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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

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The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is 2.5k of absolute tooth rotting fluff that was inspired by the Golden music video and the ultra talented @theharriediaries!! Thank you to Soph and Lu (@meetmymouth) for beta reading and giving me some direction when I needed it!! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would LOVE if you could give me some feedback!! My requests are also open in my ask!!

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“The Italians drink a lot over dinner,” Harry told you in an informative tone, an attempt to order yet another very expensive bottle of red. “Wine is very important in Italian culture,” he tipsily explained across the table, dimples prominent from his cheeky smile. “I learned that in my Italian classes.”

“Oh, did you?” you teased back at him, feeling a bit floaty as you finished your third glass, only for Harry to fill it right back up, emptying the bottle on the table. You laughed and shook your head as you watched him make eye contact with the waiter, motioning for him to bring another bottle over.

“Vino, vino, vino,” he hummed under his breath, playing with the empty glass in front of him that was soon filled up again with the deep red liquid that had stained his pouty lips a deep red and his tongue purple. The two of you sat in the front patio of a small restaurant down the block from your hotel, under a giant and bright moon that made his eyes sparkle even more than usual.

He had a boyish flush to his cheeks, which could have been from the wine or the remnants of a scaldingly hot day in Italy; maybe both. You could still feel the summer heat radiating back up from the pavement below you after it had baked in the sun all day. The oppressive heat still hung in the air, just enough for a light sheen of sweat to be covering you both that seemed to make Harry glow on the dimly lit patio.

You two had found yourself in Italy while Harry had some time off because he insisted he needed to go and practice his Italian. “Devo andare per la mia istruzione,” he told you one day after he got home from his class. “I have to go for my education,” he translated a moment later after being met with a blank look from you. He practiced all day every day. He struck up conversations with locals, spoke with every fan who came to say hi, and attempted to translate menus and order every meal. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but he was trying nonetheless.

Harry in Italy was a special version of himself. He was smiley and carefree and always trying to fatten you up or get you drunk. When he was here, he seemed to wholeheartedly become the H you always knew, abandoning the rockstar and becoming the mushy and emotional man that told you he loved you in every sentence and needed to be touching you at all times. His hair had lightened a tiny bit from your days outdoors, his skin had grown tan and taken on a golden tone, a side effect of him constantly ignoring when you told him to put on sunscreen.

You drank and ate and talked until the restaurant was closing down around you, a common occurrence when you two had the opportunity to slow down and just be together for a while, trying to forget that there was anything else going on in the world outside this tiny town. If he hadn’t captivated the wait staff with his broken Italian and charming smile earlier in the night, you were sure you would have been met with eyerolls from those cleaning up around you. Eventually, you two walked hand in hand out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk along the windy road, both of you full and drunk, and beginning the short walk back to your hotel.

He was smiling so wide his dimpled cheeks must have been hurting, a bright smile encouraged by the alcohol running through his system. His hair flopped over his forehead, curlier than usual because of the sea air and his lips were an even deeper purple than before. His beautiful mouth babbled, every thought in his head flowing past his lips in a slightly slurred mix of italian and english; a verbal expression of excitement and clumsiness.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight beside you, your fingers lazily interlocked with his, tugging him back when he moved too close to the street, hoping his wobbly legs wouldn’t trip on the uneven cobblestone sidewalk. You primarily didn’t want him to tear or stain his favorite light blue blazer if he took a tumble. He once told you it was his favorite because he thought the color looked like the sky on the day you had met. You remember blushing and pushing him away from you, telling him he was cheesy with a playful eye roll. “It’s my job to be cheesy!” he had defended himself. “Also, I’m not being cheesy, I’m a man in love.”

You were brought back into reality when he stopped in his tracks and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your torso. “We should dance,” he beamed, eyes wide like it was the greatest idea he had ever thought of.

“There’s no music, H,” you regrettably informed him while pushing his curls away from his forehead. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm and slightly sweaty on your lips, a salty taste invading your mouth.

“We don’t need music. All the music is up here,” he winked while tapping his temple. “We're listening to classical.”

“Oh I see, music man,” you joked, unable to contain your giggles.

“Shh,” he attempted to quell your laughter, bringing his pointer finger to your lips. “Can’t hear the music.” A sarcastic seriousness played across his face, prompting another grin to sneak onto your lips. You pressed a kiss to his finger, before giving into his demand and falling quiet.

You could never fight the spell he put you under. You lived in a cloud of Harry, an intoxicating daze that made you unable to focus on the bad of the world when he was around. He had seemed to melt down the walls you had built before you had met, a fact that made him endearingly call you his ‘Ice Queen’ every once in a while. The charm and wit he carried with him wiped away your practicality, always knowing how to convince you to play along with his antics and throw your precious caution to the wind. He was your rose colored glasses. He made your heart jump all day long and unexpected bursts of joy were felt in your chest whenever he smiled, laughed, or said your name. You were enamored by him, an all consuming love you couldn’t escape from.

“What are you thinking about, pet?” he asked softly, breaking through your loving haze. “You have your thinking face on.” A light smile continued to play on his lips but it was softer now, taking on a gentle questioning quality.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” you confessed.

His eyebrows perked up and so did the corners of his mouth into a delightful smirk. “I mean, who doesn’t?” His smart ass comment earned himself a playful slap to his chest, but your attempt to wiggle out of his arms was thwarted when he pulled you even tighter to him. “That’s no way to treat your dance partner, my love.”

“I want a different dance partner,” you taunted, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him.

One of his hands fell from your shoulders to the small of your waist, the other found one of yours and he began to sway with care side to side. “Too bad, we’re already dancing,” he spoke softly into your ear. You two moved in an easy rhythm to a song only Harry could hear, a more caring and tender tone taking over for your previously playful one.

His cheek pressed to your temple and your bodies pressed loosely to each other. If you tried hard enough, you could hear the man’s soft hum of a melody you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your feet fell carefully, wary of the uneven pavement in your heels, but you reminded yourself even if you were to fall, the arm looped around your waist would be sure to catch you. Small kisses peppered your forehead and you were released from his grasp for only a second for him to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress splaying out around you before being enveloped in him once again.

“I love you, angel,” he murmured softly when you found yourself resting back against his chest. He had abandoned his joking tone, shifting to a gentler and more serious cadence, pouring his soul into every word that left his lips as they brushed against your forehead. “I am so happy that I get to spend my life with you.”

“I love you so much. This is a happier life than I could have ever imagined for myself,” you spoke after a thoughtful pause. You were still swaying calmly, seeming to move in time with the cool breeze settling over the two of you, but Harry’s humming had been abandoned for a reflective silence.

“What kind of house do you want us to live in one day?” he asked abruptly, choosing to move in a seemingly unrelated direction.

“It has to be big; with enough rooms to fill with lots of cats and dogs, and when the time comes, maybe a baby. And I want a big porch to sit on together and watch the world go by on.” You felt him nod thoughtfully and with a hum of agreement.

“Do you want it to be the only house we ever live in? Or do you want to try out different places to find your favorite?”

“I think I want it to be our one house. I want us to be the crazy old people who have lived in the old rickety house at the end of the block forever; the ones who always have stories to tell and grandchildren constantly coming and going.”

“Can we be the ones who brag about never having a fight?”

“Do you mean the ones who lie?” you asked with a chuckle, looking up to face him. He broke out into a high pitched giggle, your favorite laugh of his. It warmed you to your core knowing that you were the only one who could make him laugh like that.

“Exactly,” he nodded in confirmation, still chuckling to himself.

“We can lie and say we’ve never had a fight as long as we never stop getting wine drunk and slow dancing to no music on random streets while on vacation,” you quipped.

“Sounds like a plan, my love.”

“I know we’ve talked about doing it, but when do you want to get married? I don’t want to inconvenience either of our careers with wedding planning or anything like that. I don’t really care as long as we get to spend our lives together.” The words fell freely from your mouth, the wine still running through your veins blocking the inhibition that probably should have kept the words inside your head.

“Getting married to you wouldn’t be an inconvenience, darling.”

“I know. Wrong words,” you chuckled. “Well, I guess I should have asked when you want to get engaged,” you corrected yourself. “I suppose we have to do that first.”

“Why not now?” he asked, with a mischievous twang in his voice. You felt one of his arms slip from around you and start rummaging in his jacket pocket.

“What?”

“I said,” he began again, “why not now?” His hand emerged from his pocket, presenting you with a tiny red velvet ring box.

Your mind went blank. Your usually rapid and incessant thoughts seemed to stop altogether in a mix of shock and awe. You knew this day, or night, would come eventually. You two had discussed a future together extensively and had agreed you didn’t want to spend your lives with anyone else, but you had never imagined the moment he asked you to be his forever. You had never imagined this moment.

His eyebrows slicked up, lips curled in a devilish smile, and he sank down onto one knee before you. Your hands flew up to your face and the wetness on your fingertips alerted you to the tears that had begun to fall down your cheeks, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

“My dear,” Harry began as he settled onto the sidewalk, balancing carefully on the cobblestone ground. “I have been in love with you since the very first day I met you and that adorable little snort slipped out when you laughed at one of my bad jokes. You have been the first thought I have in the morning and the last thought I have before I fall asleep for longer than you know. You are kind and smart and funny and you light up every room you walk into. I do not want to spend another second of my life without knowing you’ll be by my side for the rest of it. Will you marry me?”

He looked up at you with hopeful eyes and you looked down at him through tearful ones. You began a furious nod, before choking out the only word he wanted to hear. “Yes,” you sobbed, holding out a shaky hand for him to slide the ring onto.

The ring was beautiful; dazzling under the light of the full moon and the dim street lights above you. It slid onto your ring finger with ease, sitting snugly like the ring was made just for you. It was simple, which Harry knew was your style and it held one (large) diamond in a simple silver setting, no bells or whistles needed.

Harry grabbed you by the waist as soon as the ring was secure and picked you up in his arms and spun, twirling you around like the two of you had just slipped out of a rom-com. Delighted giggles fell from both of your lips before he finally stopped, your laughter pausing when your lips found his.

It was a salty kiss, due to the sheen of sweat still sitting on Harry’s skin and the tears that were still streaming down your own, but it just felt so right. He was warm and smiling, lips still tasting of the pinot noir you had shared. Your lips moved together in a perfect harmony like they were meant for each other.

“Thank god you said yes,” Harry breathed when you finally separated. “I’ve been carrying that ring with me everywhere we go for two months now.”

With a playful eye roll, you pulled the curly man to you and connected your lips once again, unable to get enough of him. His intoxicating cologne filled your nostrils and you had never felt more safe or happy. The love you shared felt like when the sun warms your skin under a golden hour sunset; bright yet soft, spectacular yet easy. And you were ready for it to never end.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS ARE SUPER APPRECIATED!!

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oatmilkslytherin · 4 years ago

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not-so-opposites attract (n.longbottom)

description: a very unlikely friendship forms when slytherin!fem!reader is caught helping the hogwarts house elves in the kitchen. when you mix a kind, confident slytherin and a shy gryffindor with a heart of gold, what will be brewed? request idea by @ausblack thank you dear<33

pairing: neville longbottom x slytherin!fem!reader

warnings: none i think

requested: yes / no

taglist: @jud3cardan @dray-cookies

a/n: love this idea and lil neville warms my heart !!! also this is so long MY GOODNESS

perhaps it was her kind heart, perhaps it was her even kinder smile. whatever it was about y/n, it caused nearly her entire house to turn against her, but it also bloomed the most beautiful friendships with others.

y/n couldn’t lie; being called a ‘blood-traitor’ along with a variety of harsh names by her housemates was definitely not the most pleasant experience in the world. she wanted nothing more than to spread a little bit of light and love with everyone at hogwarts, but kindness only caused her fellow slytherins to shun her. people often questioned why she was sorted into slytherin in the first place; y/n questioned it herself.

however, after a few years of berating comments and a few paper airplanes to the back of her head, she decided it was only worth it to be her true authentic self. perhaps that’s why the majority of her nights she spent with the house elves in the kitchen when she wasn’t sneaking into her friends’ common rooms.

on this particular night when y/n found herself mindlessly wandering towards the kitchens, she couldn’t help but feel as if she was being followed by something, or someone. her head darted around her in search of any trailing professors or watchful prefects, but none came to sight. y/n shrugged the feeling off, writing it off as her own paranoia. she took one final look around the corridor before disappearing through the kitchen doors.

the kitchen was bustling with an immense amount of house elves, all chatting amongst themselves as they began preparations for tomorrow’s breakfast. their heads all snapped towards the door as y/n entered, smiles stringing along their little faces as she entered. she couldn’t help but smile back as she made her way over to them.

“oh, miss y/l/n! how lovely it is for you to be here,” one elf, winky, spoke, her smile wide as y/n walked over to her. y/n couldn’t help but smile softly but sympathetically at the house elves beaming up at her.

“please, i insist you call me y/n. miss y/l/n is much too formal,” y/n spoke. the house elves all looked at her as if she was mad, their eyes darting from her to each other.

“professor dumbledore insists we call masters as miss or mister, miss,” dobby piped up hesitantly. y/n smiled fondly at the little house elf; she always had a soft spot for dobby, he was always much too kind and wise for his own good.

“and professor dumbledore may be right, but i am not your master. i am your friend.” her words caused dobby to smile widely, his eyes near to tears as he let out some sound of excitement. y/n could only smile at them, their dispositions utterly heart-warming to the young girl. although their company was quite different from her interactions with her friends, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the house elves who only ever treated her with kindness even since her first year.

y/n followed the house elves around the kitchen as they spoke brightly about their breakfast plans for the following morning. their spirits seemed to peak with the young girl in the room. as the only company they ever had was each other and the occasional professor, they all took a liking to one of the only students who managed to learn all of their names and treat them with nothing but kindness.

as y/n listened intently as one of the house elves taught her how they make the morning bread, a small voice spoke up from behind her.

“quite nice, aren’t they?” the voice piped, making y/n spin around. her eyes met those of neville longbottom, someone who she had only had a few interactions with in their past few years at hogwarts. neville looked as sheepish as ever as he stood behind her, a small grin peaking from the corners of his lips as house elves greeted him softly.

y/n couldn’t help but smile at neville. she had always taken a liking to his kind hearted disposition, even if he was incredibly shy. neville, much like her, felt as if he was sorted into the wrong house, never feeling as if he displayed the qualities of a typical gryffindor. unlike y/n, however, neville didn’t have to deal with the cold remarks of his demeanor from his fellow housemates. still, y/n couldn’t help but feel drawn to the young boy, and found his bashfulness quite cute.

“they are. i thought i was the only one who came down here,” y/n spoke truthfully.

“i come down here when i can. i like their company,” neville stated, his cheeks growing a slight shade of pink. y/n smiled brightly at the boy who appeared to have the same interests as her. she turned back towards the house elf, asking if she could continue to show her and neville how the bread was made. neville hesitantly stepped next to y/n, his shoulders slightly tense from nervousness, but he was still as happy as ever.

after that night in the kitchens, neville and y/n spent much of their time with one another. they attempted to make their trips to the kitchen twice a week to talk to the house elves, but outside of the basement, y/n and neville were often found in the greenhouse or the library.

as their friendship grew, y/n couldn’t help but notice more things about neville that she found absolutely captivating. most times when they were in the greenhouse, y/n would let neville talk for hours about the history of herbology and the properties of every plant he laid his eyes on. other nights, neville would watch in awe as y/n rambled about a variety of magical creatures that she took care of beside hagrid.

neville couldn’t lie; the more time he spent with y/n, the more enamored he became by her. he loved the way she actually sat and listened to his rambling, and even encouraged him to tell her more when he apologized for talking for so long. he was absolutely infatuated with her kindness and intellect, and even grew the courage to ask her for help in his classes. not that he didn’t excel in his classes, but neville really looked for any reason to spend more time with her.

in the same way, y/n found neville absolutely captivating. the more he opened up to her, the more she took a liking to him. he was quite funny when he was comfortable with someone, feeling as if he could actually joke around and even throw slightly sarcastic comments towards y/n. many things about neville took y/n by surprise, and the more she learned of his quirks and habits, the more her feelings developed.

she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that, however. although she wasn’t of the same mindset and attitude as other slytherins, she still knew that she was sorted amongst them. despite how close her and neville became, she couldn’t help but doubt the idea of their friendship turning into anything more. y/n figured that neville wouldn’t want to romantically pursue anything with a slytherin, after all.

or, so she thought.

y/n wandered around the corridors during her free period, her destination intent on being the library. as she turned the corner, her body collided suddenly with another, causing y/n to drop the books in her arms and let out an audible grunt as she smacked into the opposing body.

y/n bent down to pick up her books, her mouth already spilling profuse apologies as she kept her eyes trained on the books spread across her feet.

“watch where you’re going blood traitor,” the voice spat down at y/n, causing her to tense up immediately. of course, the one person she had to run into was someone from her own house. just my luck, she thought.

y/n scrambled to gather the remainder of her books, her eyes still trained on the space between them as a hue of embarrassment spread across her features.

“sorry, marcus,” y/n mumbled, ready to rush past him and towards the library before he scoffed audibly, gripping onto y/n’s passing arm and spinning her to face him. y/n grimaced at the feeling of his hand on her arm, attempting to pry herself out of his grip, but he was persistent.

“where do you think you’re going, y/l/n? off to see your boyfriend, longbottom?” marcus asked, his smirk dark and taunting. y/n gulped in nervousness, finally ripping her arm out of his tight grasp.

“he’s not my boyfriend, flint. besides, what’s it to you?” y/n asked, growing incredibly angered at flint’s taunting. she wasn’t a stranger to the loathsome things the slytherins said about neville; she found it absolutely repulsive, really. while no one had ever said anything to her about her friendship with neville, the word around the castle made her stomach twist in frustration.

“just thought you couldn’t stoop any lower. guess i was wrong,” marcus egged her on, his wicked smirk still splaying across his face. y/n’s brows furrowed towards him, her grip around the binding of her books tightening intensely as marcus spoke.

“enough, flint. fix your teeth before you try speaking badly upon others.” y/n didn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came from to speak out against her housemates, but the bottled-up anger became too much for her to suppress. while she could normally handle the harsh commentary about her own disposition, she wasn’t one to let others speak badly upon her friends’ names.

marcus, however, was not a fan of her words. the smirk dropped from his face, anger washing over his features as he took a step closer to y/n.

“watch your mouth, y/l/n. don’t forget i know where you sleep at night,” flint threatened. normally, y/n would immediately cower away, making him believe he won. but right now, years of suppressed anger was threatening to bubble from her lips; she wasn’t going to back down now.

“you’re pathetic to sit here and berate a girl who has been nothing but kind to you for the past five years. maybe if you put the same passion for me into your team, you guys could actually win a match,” y/n retorted, a fake pout stringing across her face to mock him. marcus seemed to boil at this comment, his fists tightening at his sides. y/n swore that she could nearly see the steam coming out of his ears.

“i’ll make you regret those words, blood-traitor. how about you go run off to your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend? salazar knows what you see in him; he resembles the toad he lost first ye-”

marcus’ words were caught off abruptly by y/n’s hand sharply connecting with his cheek, the palm of her hand leaving a stinging red mark on his skin. y/n’s eyes widened suddenly when the pulsing redness settled into her hand and she stared at marcus who was doubled-over slightly to the side, caressing his cheek in his hand.

“you aren’t a quarter of the man neville is. any girl would be lucky to be with him. now piss off, flint,” y/n spat viciously.

she expected the worst. she expected a ferocious stinging slap of her own to reside on her cheek, any long-term hex settling into her skin, or merlin forbid, even an unforgivable curse to be thrown haphazardly at her. she winced slightly, tensing her shoulders to prepare for marcus’ next move.

instead, though, he stalked off. turning on his heel abruptly, he strode tensely down the corridor, muttering something unintelligible as he rounded the corner. y/n let out a shaky breath as he disappeared from her line of sight, her shoulders relaxing into her stance.

“y/n!” y/n spun around suddenly, her eyes immediately meeting neville’s who was rounding the nearest corner. she looked rather sheepish as she stood in front of him, her palm still tender and her face still slightly flushed from the argument that ensued not even five minutes prior.

before y/n could even properly greet him, he spoke again. “i heard what you said... to marcus, i mean.”

her eyes widened at his words, an even deeper shade of red settling into her skin. she opened her mouth to speak, stumbling over how to start her sentence as thoughts filled her mind.

“i-i mean it’s true. i meant every... every single word,” y/n finally tut out, a small smile spreading across her cheeks. she couldn’t deny any longer that she fancied neville; perhaps it was her ambition that finally pushed her to act on her feelings.

a wide smile spread across neville’s face as his eyes darted around y/n’s frame, becoming increasingly more flustered from her kind words and even kinder smile.

“neville, i fancy you. and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay but i needed to-”

y/n was suddenly engulfed in neville’s embrace, his warmth enveloping her in his arms as he wrapped himself entirely around her. y/n was slightly caught off-guard, but quickly softened at his touch, melting in his embrace and wrapping her arms around his torso.

“of course i fancy you too, y/n. i’d be crazy not to,” neville spoke, laughing lightly in between a few of his words. y/n smiled widely with her face buried in his chest, her heart fluttering with excitement at his words.

she looked up at neville as their arms were still wrapped around each other. smiles tugged at the corners of their lips, hearts beating rapidly out of their chests as they stared at each other in awe.

“can i kiss you?” neville asked timidly, making y/n smile even wider at his constant need to be a gentleman. it was just one of the many things she absolutely adored about him.

“i’d thought you’d never ask.”

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

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autumn and honeysuckle.

pairing: han x (fem) reader.

genre: marriage au ; fluff. (can you see how enamored I am for marriage aus-)

⇥ warnings: none, just an autumn date with hannie 🥺 slight kissing here and there but not suggestive at all.

wc: 1.06 K (why do i never write blurbs ; - ;)

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Han Jisung, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @hanniiesuckle17 (requests for this are closed now!)

credit: this idea was inspired by this prompt list! 🥰

↯ note: I was literally so dumb™ I didn’t know honeysuckle was a fucking plant. 😭 I thought it was a part of a beehive or something how stupid of me I’ll go boo at myself. 😔 But !!!!! Hope I could fulfill my duty to the queen herself, and thank you for requesting! Happy reading. <3 Also where I live we don’t have autumn as a season, so please be mindful that this is completely based on my rusty knowledge from movies. ⇥ dawn.☀️

Autumn, in all honesty, was one of your favorite seasons. The fresh smell of maple and pinecone wafting through the air, drinking spiced lattes and munching on apple pie, drowning in oversized sweaters — admittedly, it was all too joyous for you. Anticipation ran through you once the month of September rolled around, and dried, orange leaves adorned the roads, crunching under your feet when you strolled around.

And your husband loved it all too equally. After all, you’d met Jisung in the lovely season of autumn. If you were to look back, you had no idea that the boy curled up under a tree with a book in his hand and headphones covering his ears would end up being your lover — but hey, you weren’t complaining. If anything, autumn held more significance because of that.

And autumn wreaths were a timely tradition for you. You admittedly loved decorating your house with pretty ornaments when any occasion rolled by — be it thanksgiving, Halloween, or Christmas. and decorating the house often lead to “expeditions” — which really meant just you and Jisung walking hand in hand through a park, stealing occasional kisses and giggles from each other.

So, when you snuck out of Jisung’s embrace (despite his infinite whines and protests), threw him a shirt to wear and pulled him along with you to the park, Jisung wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Your husband could do nothing but scramble behind you, watching you chatter away about how you’d planned to design the autumn wreaths with a loving gaze. You looked so pretty under the rustic orange of the park — the maple trees and pine cones were pretty, but you underneath them were incomparable.

The thing that you found the most adorable was that Jisung brought his trusty pillow along with him and almost fell asleep on your shoulder as you were searching for a good spot to make the wreath because according to him, you’d quote unquote “disturbed his sleep by not allowing him his fair dose of cuddles.” So clingy, Jisung was so clingy. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t love it when Jisung got clingy.

“Okay, you go collect the flowers— Jisung, gooo!” You giggled when your husband pulled you into his embrace. You’d found a spot under a tall, fairly shady tree and were about to search for flowers and dried leaves— if your husband hadn’t immediately pulled you into his embrace and nuzzled into your neck, murmuring something incoherently that kinda sounded like “But this is so comfy I don’t wanna leave.”

“One second, I need to have my daily dose of wifey Y/N before I leave her.” Jisung whined, almost sleepily.

“Oh gosh,” You scoffed playfully. “You’re not leaving me you oaf! Go!” Jisung pulled away but didn’t release his hold on you, pouting like an absolute child as he looked at you with sleepy eyes. “No.”

You knew what he wanted — you knew him like the back of your own hand, after all. If there was one thing that got Jisung to fly on top of the clouds, you were the one who knew it. Being married to him for three years had made you learn enough about him,t he same vice versa.

And so, you leaned in, stealing a tiny kiss from him before letting him linger over your lips for a second.

“Now go!!”

You quickly pushed Jisung with a hearty laugh before spreading a sheet onto the leafy floor of the park relishing the way the leaves crunched under each step. Taking out the flexible yet sturdy wires you’d neatly rolled up to shape a wreath, you started picking out leaves from around you, using golden rope to tie it all together. You’d also brought along some beads to decorate it with along with tiny maple syrup bottle shaped charms, but the wreath somehow seemed to be devoid of something you couldn’t quite place.

It had been about ten minutes later that Jisung returned, his hair mussed up because he’d used his beanie to carry the flowers he’d picked from what seemed like the other side of the garden. You almost cooed over how cute he looked — disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, pouty lips and his caramel skin almost complimenting the orangey tone surrounding him.

“What did you bring?” You sat on your knees as Jisung sat cross legged beside you, placing the beanie in front of you both before picking out a single flower from the bunch. The flower he held didn’t have any vibrant colored petals, but it exuded an immense fragrance, once that captivated you in an instant.

A little smile creaked as your husband’s lips as he said. “A hanniesuckle.” He laid special stress on the first part.

You narrowed your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to prevent yourself from laughing (or groaning) at the obvious pun he’d tried to intend. Staying silent. Jisung started to fumble for an explanation.

“Get it? Because Hannie and honeysuckle makes-”

You decided to free him from the embarrassment of having to explain the stupidly adorable pun he’d just made, leaning in to place a gentle kiss over the tip of his nose, cupping his cheeks and kissing his lips soon after. Jisung sighed, pecking you once, twice, thrice before pulling away to look at you, and the blush that had made an appearance on his cheeks made you melt over and over again — you couldn’t quite get over how cute your husband was.

“I get it, and you need to stop being so cute, ‘hanniesuckle’“ You used air quotations at the pun. “You’re dangerous for my heart.” Huffing, you pinched his cheeks where he’s blushed like the sunset.

“Hey, you know you signed up for it when you said yes.” Your husband intertwined your fingers with his own, placing a peck on the back of your hand.

“Oh that wasn’t a complaint, Mr. Han. Now you wanna help me knit these ‘hanniesuckles’ into the wreath?”

Jisung grew flustered yet again, mumbling a small “Of course, Mrs. Han” before he started handing you the flowers, gazing at your concentrated eyes as you stitched the fragrant flowers them in.

Neither to say, the wreath looked very pretty when you hung it on the front door, but then again — you were incomparable.

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

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toorusbaby · 4 years ago

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second choice, pt. 1

hi guys (: this is my very first piece of writing that i’m publishing and i’m so nervous excited to share this with whoever’s reading. thank you for giving this a chance, ily reader. i put my heart and soul into this (literally, it took me ages) and i didn’t think i’d ever share it with anybody else, but here i am at 11:56 p.m lol. there are six parts in total, some longer than the rest. i hope you enjoy <3

summary: being in love with hajime iwaizumi is like riding a rollercoaster of emotions. it’s thrilling as it is exciting, but you feel a little lightheaded... because he doesn’t know how you feel. the worst part? he thinks you’re in love with his best friend.

warnings: just pure fluff, oikawa cockblocks, slow burn, slight angst if you squint real hard

word count: 2,924

part two here

Iwaizumi silently watched from the exit of the ramen shop as Oikawa eagerly helped you gather your belongings at the table the three of you just finished using. Despite the indistinct conversation you and his team captain were sharing, Iwaizumi didn’t fail to notice your small giggles that were probably in response to one of Oikawa’s many attempts at flirting with you. Who in their right mind wouldn’t flirt with you? You were a sight to behold, at least in Iwaizumi’s eyes... and every other male’s at Aoba Johsai, including none other than Oikawa.

It was no secret, not even to you, that you were attractive. With curves in all of the right places, glowing skin, and bright doe eyes framed by long, curled lashes, you were everything females wanted to look like and what every man dreamed of calling theirs.

Even though he knew you were physically gorgeous, Iwaizumi was more drawn to the beauty of your soul. Your alluring intelligence intrigued him the very moment he first heard you speak your mind without hesitation in class on the first day of school when you were both first years. When you became an assistant manager for the Aoba Johsai volleyball club during your second year, your kindness enthralled him when he discovered that you voluntarily stayed up all night on multiple occasions to devise game plans for every Seijoh volleyball match.

By your current third year of high school, Iwaizumi found himself utterly captivated by your empathy when he saw you through his silent tears, embracing a sobbing Kindaichi away from peering eyes, whispering words of comfort despite your own sobbing, shaking frame as a result of Seijoh’s lost chance of attending Nationals. Back at Seijoh later that day, Iwaizumi overheard Kunimi thanking you for comforting Kindaichi when he couldn’t do so himself. When he saw you smile, gently place a hand on the second year’s shoulder, and reassure him that you would do absolutely anything for ‘your boys’, he was enamored.

It was safe to say that Hajime Iwaizumi had fallen in love with you.

“Y/N, let me walk you home. It’s already dark out. Can’t stand the thought of my pretty girl getting into danger, you know?” Oikawa’s flirtatious words brought Iwaizumi’s attention back to reality. The green eyed boy’s gaze landed on your approaching frame and he couldn’t help but grin when you rolled your eyes in mock annoyance.

“The sun isn’t setting for another hour, Oikawa. I’m sure I’ll be fine,” You reassured, giving Iwaizumi a smile of gratitude when he opened the door for you. Oikawa’s quick stumbling after you however, completely destroyed the butterflies that fluttered in Iwaizumi’s stomach, causing the annoyed ace to huff.

The three of you made your way to the corner of the street but not before Oikawa could stop whining. “Y/N, you can’t possibly leave me with Iwa-chan!” The setter complained with a pout and sagged shoulders but you paid him no mind.

“Oi,” Iwaizumi grumbled, harshly elbowing his best friend’s chest, emitting a yelp from the pretty setter. “What’s that supposed to mean, dumbass?”

You glanced at the red crosslight before facing the two volleyball players with a grin. “Don’t be ridiculous, ‘Kawa. Iwa gives the best company. Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” You turned to Iwaizumi with a toothy smile, a small giggle leaving your lips when the spiky haired boy pouted. Hajime’s cheeks flushed not only because of how cute you looked craning your neck to look up at him, but also because of your usage of his cursed but infamous nickname.

Maybe that stupid nickname isn’t so bad, Iwaizumi quickly thought. Thanks, Oikawa.

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Oikawa cut him off.

“Lying isn’t good, little manager. But if you give me a hug, I won’t complain for the rest of today… maybe.” The setter smirked and opened his arms in your direction.

I take my ‘thanks’ back, you sly fucker, Iwaizumi thought begrudgingly.

Once again, the ace felt as if he had been punched in the gut. When Iwaizumi saw you chuckle and embrace his cocky best friend, who was more than happy to tightly wrap his arms around your body, jealousy filled the boy to the brink. The hug you gave Oikawa was a hug he desperately wanted for himself instead. Sure, friends hugged each other all the time; Iwaizumi could simply ask you for one and call it a day.

Would Y/N even be comfortable with that?

It was that specific question that constantly lingered in the back of his mind. The fact that he had the biggest crush in the world on you however, prevented Iwaizumi from even wanting to ask you for one in the first place.

It was simple, really; the only thing that scared Iwaizumi more than asking you for a hug, was simply being rejected by you under any circumstance.

On the other hand, you always questioned why Iwaizumi never seemed to want to have any physical contact with you. You were comfortable with all of the boys on the volleyball team; even Kyoutani, of all people, allowed you to give him small side hugs. The only times you and Hajime ever made physical contact were through quick high-fives on the court when he scored points during games. Other than that, everything between the two of you was verbal. Hugging him was definitely out of the question. Perhaps Iwaizumi liked having physical boundaries set in place? Or maybe because you were a girl and he was hesitant? You weren’t sure, but you could understand. After all, the ace did have his shy moments despite his aggression towards Oikawa.

You never admitted it to anybody, not even to yourself, but Iwaizumi’s physical distance made you feel insecure. You thought you were fairly attractive and friendly enough; you felt confident most of the time. Did something about you disgust him? Did you talk too much to the point where you annoyed him? Did he lie about viewing you as a friend only to preserve peace within the volleyball team?

The idea of Hajime disliking anything about you caused your stomach to twist and turn. After all, it was only natural since you’ve had such strong feelings for Aoba Johsai’s beloved ace for quite a while.

Your troubled thoughts clouded your mind and you instinctively clung onto Oikawa a bit tighter. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Iwaizumi, who was surprised to feel his fingernails carving crescent shaped marks into his right palm. He immediately released his grip and clenched his jaw. Even if the ace decided to turn his gaze away from the sight of his crush and best friend hugging, it definitely didn’t help when Oikawa grinned and began to make flirty comments about how perfectly you fit in his arms.

It definitely struck a nerve, but the pain was overshadowed by jealousy and annoyance.

Iwaizumi had never experienced relief the way he did when he saw the crosslight finally signal for pedestrians to cross the street. With a quick sigh, the boy called out to you and Oikawa. “Shittykawa, you can let her go now. She has to cross,” he said and gestured to the crosswalk. It had taken all of Hajime’s willpower to steady his voice and keep the venom out of his voice.

At the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice, you immediately let go of Oikawa, ignoring the captain’s small whimpers and claims of ‘missing you already.’ Instead, you made your way to the edge of the curb instead. You thanked the spiky haired boy with a bright smile which he returned, but something about it was strained. Even if your heart ached at his weak expression, you found yourself quickly adjusting Iwaizumi’s unfolded collar, an odd habit you developed as the team manager, before stepping onto the pavement.

Iwaizumi was caught off guard by your sudden action but kept his composure regardless. Clearing his throat, he lifted his hand to offer you a small wave. “Be safe, Y/N. Text one of us when you get home, yeah? And don’t stay up too late studying for tomorrow’s exam,” the ace chided. “You seriously need to get more sleep.”

Your smile widened at Iwaizumi’s protective words, even though you’ve heard them on multiple occasions. I’d get more sleep if you didn’t occupy my every thought at two in the morning, you thought before stepping onto the pavement. When Oikawa’s pleas for you to text him instead of Iwaizumi interrupted your thoughts, you teasingly rolled your eyes at the setter, but nodded at the shorter boy beside him.

“I’ll text, don’t worry. As for getting more sleep, I can’t make any promises... but I’ll see you two tomorrow. Be a good boy, Toru!” You joked and gave Oikawa, whose cheeks were crimson from the cold and your usage of his first name, a pointed stare before making your way home. The setter chuckled to himself and shoved his hands into his pockets, moving to stand beside his best friend who silently watched you walk down the street.

When you were a safe distance away, Oikawa opened his mouth to speak. The setter’s words were so sudden, Iwaizumi had to steady himself; otherwise, he would have stumbled off the sidewalk and into the now moving traffic.

“You like her, don’t you?” The taller brunette noted, his eyes unwavering from your shrinking figure the farther you walked away. It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement that needed confirmation before anything else could be said. Oikawa’s tone wasn’t the usual, cheerful one that Iwaizumi was familiar with. Instead, it was serious. The team captain didn’t have to look at Iwaizumi to know that the green eyed boy was far too stunned and flustered to come up with words of denial.

The deep shade of red that tinged Iwaizumi’s ears and cheeks, along with widened eyes was enough to confirm Oikawa’s assumption. With a click of his tongue, the team captain chuckled under his breath, his lips molding into a small smile. Iwaizumi didn’t have any words; he didn’t know what to say. What could he say? How do you tell your best friend that you’ve been in love with the girl that he’s currently interested in? What kind of best friend does that?

Maybe Iwaizumi wasn’t the ‘best’ friend after all.

The small nudge of Oikawa’s elbow to Iwaizumi’s arm caused the flustered boy to shove both hands into his pockets. Together, the duo silently made their way onto another familiar street in order to get home. No words were spoken until the ramen shop was out of sight; only the shuffling of shoes against the ground could be heard. With his hands folded behind his neck and head leaned back to admire the clouds, Oikawa was the first to break the silence.

“You know you can tell me anything, Iwa,” Oikawa adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag, turning his head to glance at his friend. “It’s okay if you like Y/N.”

With a swallow of his throat and a heavy sigh, Hajime focused the path ahead of him before responding. “Look, Oikawa. I’m sorry. Really. I know you told me you were into her, but I’ve liked her since our first year. I tried to stop when you told me you were interested,” Iwaizumi’s fists clenched in the pockets of his jacket and his eyebrows furrowed. “But I just...” he began to twirl a loose piece of thread from his jacket between his fingers, a nervous habit of his. “I couldn’t. I can’t. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.“ He cut himself off.

Since I think she likes you too, was what Iwaizumi was going to finish off with, but it would make his heart ache even more than it already was. As much of a pain Oikawa was, Iwaizumi knew his best friend didn’t deserve to be the target of his demise. It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault, not at all; it was his own for liking you as much as he did.

Especially because he knew that he could never compete with his best friend.

It was no secret that between the duo, Toru Oikawa was always the preferred choice. The first choice, in fact. He was as attractive as he was charismatic; who in their right mind wouldn’t be interested in Oikawa? He was six feet tall and the oh-so very talented captain of the volleyball team, not to mention the fact that the setter received at least two love confessions a day from swooning fangirls.

What special qualities did Iwaizumi possess that could even compare to his best friend’s many accomplishments? Sure, he was the team’s ace. After his failed stunt against Karasuno’s team at qualifiers however, Iwaizumi now believed he wasn’t worthy of such a title. On a better note, the green eyed boy came to realize that he was in fact good-looking, having received a number of love confessions himself. Even if he had a serious, stoic expression most of the time, girls seemed to take interest in it. Gentle green eyes and soft, but spiky hair that gave his appearance a bit of an edge, what wasn’t to like about Iwaizumi? Nothing, really. But in comparison to Oikawa? Everything.

Even with attractive physical traits, Hajime Iwaizumi wasn’t Toru Oikawa. In fact, he would never be on Toru Oikawa’s level.

Hajime Iwaizumi was simply destined to be the runner-up. The second choice. Nothing more, nothing less.

Oikawa let out a quiet hum, but kept his eyes up ahead when Iwaizumi glanced at him. “Nothing to apologize for, Iwa-chan. But cut the shit. It does matter. Y/N is a great girl... like, seriously. Nobody intimidates Kyoutani the way she does, not even you. She doesn’t even have to try,” Oikawa let out a loud laugh and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle himself.

“I do like her, don’t get me wrong,” the setter sighed, but the smile on his face never wavered. “But I think you love her.” Oikawa’s smile, now a smirk, widened when he noticed Iwaizumi’s ears beam pink with embarrassment. The taller boy reached out to poke one, but his hand was quickly swatted away by the blushing wing spiker.

“You little shit, I-I’m just cold!” Iwaizumi grumbled and raised his scarf to cover a part of his red nose to avoid his best friend’s teasing gaze. He let out a stubborn sigh.

“Who’s the little shit? I’m not the one who’s under six feet, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa snickered mockingly. The death glare Iwaizumi sent Oikawa’s direction was enough to silence the captain’s laughter. “Whatever. But I’m still gonna back off regardless.” Oikawa’s words only confused Iwaizumi, who questioned the taller boy.

“But why? You like—“

“I like her, yeah. But it’s nothing serious, I’ll get over it in a few days,” Oikawa’s word choice immediately caused the ace’s eyes to narrow, but the setter held both hands up to his chest in surrender. “Don’t take it the wrong way! No, it’s not like that, I’m not an ass. I just really want to focus on volleyball for now, that’s all.” He reassured and grinned at his friend’s eyeroll.

“Besides,” Oikawa added. “You two really would make a cute couple.”

A cute couple?

Iwaizumi let his friend’s words float in the air as they turned the corner to near his house that was further down the block, before allowing them to sink in. A comfortable silence was shared between the two until they finally made their way in front of the Iwaizumi household. The older of the two was at a loss for words, still too flustered and embarrassed from being read so easily, especially by Oikawa of all people.

The fucking nerve. Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek.

Nonetheless, he turned to face Oikawa, whose face showed genuine joy; joy for his best friend who finally developed interest in a person after avoiding romance for years up until now. Truthfully, Iwaizumi couldn’t be annoyed with that. He sheepishly placed his left hand behind his neck and took a breath before speaking.

“Um. Thanks... for hearing me out. For understanding, too. I’m still really sorry though.” Iwaizumi’s sincere words were met with Oikawa’s annoyed groan.

“Jesus, would you stop apologizing? Apologize one more time and I swear I’ll actually steal Y/N from— ow, I was just kidding!” Oikawa lifted his hand to rub the side of his left arm that Iwaizumi had punched with a frown on his face. The ace then made his way up his porch steps before turning over his shoulder to glance at his friend whose pain subsided, the boy now waving goodbye to Iwaizumi.

“Make sure to tell me if Y/N texts you that she’s home, yeah?” Iwaizumi called out and opened his front door.

“You got it, Iwa-chan! She’ll probably text you instead though.”

“We’ll see. I doubt it though.”

When he entered his house, Iwaizumi quickly greeted his mother with a kiss on top of her head before making a beeline to his room. As soon as Iwaizumi put his belongings down on his desk, he heard his phone’s text tone go off in his pocket.

Guess she texted Oikawa already, he thought and pulled out the device.

When Iwaizumi’s eyes landed on his screen, he couldn’t stop his face from burning when he read the text notification. Without realizing it, he was smiling from ear to ear.

Y/N: ‘Got home safe, like I promised I would. See you tomorrow, Iwa (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)’

#haikyuu #iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi #haikyu x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #haikyuu fluff #friends to lovers #aoba johsai #seijoh

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concealeddarkness13 · 4 years ago

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WHG 15 Post-Games Imposter Syndrome Part 19

Here’s the first time Triel gets on TV! Warning: still has kissing. Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Conor!), @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler!

The Capitol finally decided to have us show up on TV, so I had to live up to my promise. I already had some idea of what it could be about, since the Capitol was planning on pretending that Conor and I were a couple. So, this would be an…interesting interview.

When I walked into my stylist’s room, she had already set out an outfit. My stylist was still Priscilla Cristal, so at least I kind of liked her. But as I looked over the outfit, it seemed a little different from what she would choose.

I looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

She pursed her lips. “It’s what you’re required to wear. Let’s get this on before I start ranting again.”

I just stayed silent as she got me changed. It wasn’t like it was awful. Actually, it was pretty, and it was a pirate theme. But, I could see the Capitol touches. I had on a loose, white shirt that had a plunging neckline; skin-tight black pants; black, high-heeled boots that went up to my knees; a long, black coat with a big star on it; and a wide, black hat that also had a big star on it. She then applied my makeup, which was all gold (not gaudy, just hints of gold except for the lipstick, which was all gold), and then she applied gold glitter over my exposed skin. Shit. That would be hell to wash off.

Priscilla Cristal looked me up and down, frowning. “I don’t even know why there are stars on your coat and hat. Pirates didn’t usually wear stars. But…it’s not my place to argue. At least that’s what the Capitol thinks. I’m not the one who picked this out. Your boyfriend thinks he’s a stylist.”

Oh. This made much more sense now. I snorted. “Not with the outfit he wore to District 9’s reaping, he’s not.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips before she shook her head. “It’s the best I can do. Now, off with you.”

I nodded and left the stylist room, just to run into the aforementioned boyfriend himself. I smirked. He was wearing a pirate outfit as well. And eyeliner. Not a bad look on him.

I gestured at my own outfit, since he was the one who picked it out. “Do you find this to your tastes?”

He quirked an eyebrow and looked me up and down. “I must admit to enjoying the touches of gold and seeing you in my signature stars again, yes. And me, am I to your tastes?” He spread his arms with a slight flourish, and he smirked.

I had to admit yes, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. “You make a convincing pirate. I wouldn’t be embarrassed to see you on my ship.” I crossed my arms. So, what the hell was he planning now? “So, how do you want to play this for the cameras?”

“Too much to ask to play the loving and doting, starstruck couple?”

He wouldn’t have agreed to pretending to be my boyfriend if he didn’t have some kind of ulterior motive. He didn’t seem to be the kind of person to just bow to the Capitol. And why would the Capitol choose him anyway if he hadn’t suggested it? “Just wanting to know exactly what you’d desire from my performance.”

“You to be your usual absolutely charming self, my little thief. You are the star of this show after all and I’d hate for anything less than that.” He offered me his arm.

So, he was insisting I was the star when he was inserting himself into the story. Wouldn’t that make him the star? Or at least distract the audience from the star? What the hell did he want? I took his arm, slightly tense. I didn’t trust him. “I think they might be more enamored about how you ‘saved’ me by pleading with the Capitol to spare me. I’m sure they’ll make it as dramatic as possible.”

“You can relax, I’m still your Bystander right now just with a closer seat to watch. At least for the moment as the show has only just started really.” Huh. So, what was he planning for later then? “Besides, all eyes will be on you, one of the few survivors of the Games, dressed like this, who can answer all their questions? And you were special enough to be saved in the first place. Truly far more interesting than a dime-a-dozen Capitol Escort who blends into their crowd easily.”

Shit. He had a point there. “A dime-a-dozen escort the Capitol actually listened to. Not so common then.” I paused. Not much to argue with though. Damn. “But I suppose that’s a good argument. Even though, dressed like that, not just a few heads will turn for you as well.” I eyed him to see how he’d react.

“My, do I dare say that’s a compliment, little thief?”

I smirked. “Me, I think the outfit’s 6/10.”

The interview before mine was finished, so it was about time for us to go on stage. He smirked and whispered back. “High praise indeed given the way you scored our kiss.”

I had to suppress a laugh. Damn it. We walked on the stage, and Caesar was standing up, getting the crowd hyped. He turned to us with a laugh. “Triel Reeves, the saved tribute from District 10! And the one who helped save her!” He turned back to the crowd. “This truly is a starcrossed couple, and I hope you’re as excited as I am to hear more about it!”

Oh boy. He gestured for us to sit down, and I just then noticed that there was only one chair for us. They certainly wanted push this, didn’t they? Conor sat down first, and I tried to squeeze in beside him, but there wasn’t enough room, so he subtly pushed me onto his lap. I smiled out at the crowd as I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and leaned into him. He smiled out at the crowd as well, with his eyes closed and his head tilted slightly, before turning his attention back to me. I could feel his eyes burning into me. Ugh.

Caesar sat down, and the crowd finally quieted down. He turned to us. “So, I think everyone has been dying to know. When did this first start? Triel kept it so hidden during the pre-Games. Is that when you met, or was it before then?”

I laughed lightly, glancing over at Conor before turning to Caesar. I had been told the supposed story before the interview. “Oh, we met in the Capitol. Before the Games. I couldn’t sleep, and he held me as I poured my heart out. And then he gave me his gloves for courage during the interview.” I looked back over at Conor, forcing a radiant smile and holding him closer. It was odd being so close to him. He just felt so…normal. But there was something that kept me on edge besides his words in the past few days. Something I couldn’t quite describe.

He smiled fondly at me. “I just couldn’t help but fall for her, her wit, charm, and smile? Who wouldn’t after how she is and everything she’s done? At a guess she’s captivated the entire Capitol and I just happened to be there at the right time and place.”

He was talking only about me, not even really how he felt. So, he wanted to be unremarkable. Caesar winked, and I made sure to focus. “So, where did the gloves go? We haven’t seen them since.”

Oh shit, what do I say about that? I kept the smile on my face as I took Conor’s hand and kissed the top of it. “They’re safe in my room. We’d rather have the least amount of barriers between us.” Ugh. Cheesy excuse.

He subtly quirked an eyebrow as he kept looking at me, still smiling. “They are a very special memento now, we wouldn’t want any harm to come to them.”

The audience sighed, and Caesar waited for them to quiet down again. “So then, Conor first. Please describe what you were feeling, seeing Triel in the Hunger Games, and what you did.” He turned to the audience and winked. “I’ve only heard part of the story, and it’s a tearjerker.”

So, what would he say? I had only been told my part of it. “Horror of course,” Bullshit, “that this fascinating person was in that situation and could easily be taken away oh so easily. And pride and hope watching her survive in them through her own intelligence and resourcefulness, she made it so far in them after all. Truly it was amazing watching her get through all of that, I’m sure you can all agree?”

He smiled wider when the audience applauded, but then he turned back to me with exaggerated concern. I tensed slightly when his eyes fell back on me. It felt kind of like what I would imagine prey would feel when a predator found them. He kept talking. “But the possibility of losing her was just too much to take, ask anyone I was around at the time there was just so much worry and uncertainty in the air, and was I to do? Stand by and watch? You’ll forgive my, shall we say, pride if I don’t confess the full story, you see there was a lot of begging and tears and strings pulled. Nevertheless,” he turned back to Caesar with a wide, sharp smile, his eyes flashing. “Here we are with her as safe as anyone can be in the Capitol now a days. There’s still a lot that has to be done to make up for disrupting the Games of course, and for that I do apologize, but I’m sure you can forgive me for not wanting to miss the chance to have someone this incredible in my life?” He turned back to me with a fond smile and lightly kissed my cheek.

Interesting how gentle he could be. I wouldn’t have thought that of him. But wow, look at all the bullshit being spun into a story. I fake giggled and nuzzled my face into his neck. He did smell nice. But I couldn’t get distracted. I brought up my lips to his ear to whisper. “Begging and crying, now that’s a pretty tale. But I’d be interested to actually see it.” Would that hurt his pride? Get any kind of reaction out of him at all?

He actually looked serious when he looked over at me. “I’d be careful what you wish for little thief,” he whispered, “considering I didn’t lie or say who.” Ah. That made more sense. He turned back to the audience with a smile. “But again here we are, and I can honestly say I am thrilled with how things are playing out!”

I just kept smirking. At least I had gotten some kind of reaction out of him. Caesar turned to me. “And, Triel! How did you feel, going into the Games after such a wonderful relationship was started? Knowing you probably wouldn’t see him again?”

I turned to the audience, mustering up my best fake tears, which I dabbed out of my eyes, and my best voice wavers. I held Conor’s hand, as if I didn’t want to ever be separated from him again. “I was just so—so scared. But I knew I had to survive. For him. I…I thought that was it when Delexus found me, but the Capitol, in their infinite mercy, allowed us to stay together, and I couldn’t be happier.” I leaned back against him and nuzzled into his neck to kiss there.

He whispered so only I could hear. “Your acting is improving, maybe a 5/10 as you said?”

I laughed. “How rude. I’m an 8/10 at least.”

“Then put on a good show and prove it.” He laughed.

Oh hell yes I would. I would put on the best damn performance. The crowd was staring at us like we were the most interesting thing in the world, and Caesar winked over at us. “Want to let us in on what you’re whispering about?”

And I would start by making a very convincing (but certainly fake) blush and burying my face into Conor’s shirt so he would have to answer that question. So there. He answered very graciously. “Inside joke, you see she has a habit of somehow ending up in an outfit similar to this no matter the situation, isn’t that right my Pirate?” Shit. My thoughts flashed to Reine again. “So I wanted to make her laugh and commented on what it might take to get to see yourself, Caesar in such an outfit, a party perhaps? But that might be a conversation for another time.”

Caesar laughed. “Oh I couldn’t pull it off as well as you two. But let’s continue so you two lovebirds can have some privacy soon.” Oh joy. He winked again. “So, at the end of the Games, when both of your dreams came true. Could you tell us a little about the reunion?”

I looked back up, still fake blushing. I giggled nervously (also fake). “It was like a dream. I still can’t imagine someone could love me with such passion and intensity and—” I cut myself off with another giggle.

Which he chose to pick up. “Absolute adoration that you’re here now and eager to learn more and more about you.”

Caesar eyed us with a smirk, which didn’t bode well. “But I think we all want to see. You’re so in love. So, how about a kiss?” The audience immediately screamed and chanted for a kiss.

Shit. I didn’t need that right now. I looked over at him. The Capitol was certainly hungry for a romance, and well… “I guess we can’t say no.”

“Seems we can’t,” he leaned forward and whispered, “if I may?” Again, so gentle sounding.

But not the kiss. He closed the distance, and it was the same as last time. Intense, not enough time for me to breathe. All my questions, all my suspicions jumbled and faded away with my other thoughts. He held me close and slipped both hands under my shirt, brushing his fingertips over my skin, as if no one was watching us. And when I broke off to gasp in some breaths, the crowd roared. Shit. I had to hurry up and get my thoughts back in order. But the smell of his cologne was in my nose, and his hands were still touching my skin, and I was too caught up in all of that. Shit.

“Sorry.” Conor turned to Caesar with a smile, sounding a little breathless. “I might have gotten carried away there.”

It took a while for the audience to calm down, so I had enough time to at least form a coherent thought. That he was dangerous. Which wasn’t a really intelligent thought. I had already known that.

Caesar laughed. “Sorry! Just one more question. What are your plans, Triel, now that the Capitol has given you a second chance at life?”

I felt so sluggish now. Luckily, the Capitol had actually given me a script for this question. I laughed. “Oh, the people of the Capitol have been so hospitable. I would love to work for one of the Capitol buildings, but I just don’t know which yet! I’m so glad they have given me a while to choose, so you might be seeing me around the Capitol in the next few weeks, checking everything out.” I winked and turned back to Conor. “But I’m most looking forward to spending time with you.”

He smiled and ducked his head slightly. “Yes, I rather hope we will have much time together.”

Oh joy. Caesar sighed with the rest of the audience and stood up. “The starcrossed lovers of this year’s Hunger Games! Brought back together by fate!” He ushered us off stage.

When we were out of sight of the cameras, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. Shit. I was still light-headed from the kiss. He said something I couldn’t catch. So, I spoke. “Okay. I must admit. 7/10.”

“Such high praise, you’ll make me blush. Truly amazing how easily they ate all of that up, really spin a little tale and they’re all tripping over themselves for more.”

That jerk didn’t even look affected by the kiss. Shit. I had to put my thoughts together, but I couldn’t yet, so blunt it was. “It’s easy to get caught up in it when a little bit of truth is sprinkled in. I’m curious how much was in your little tale.”

“I could tell you right out, but then where’s my fun? I will admit that I lied to Caesar about what we whispered about,” Wow, he truly admitted a huge secret, “but as for the rest, well,” he spread his arms slightly, “I like to play with words, my little thief, far more fun than an outright lie.”

Of course. Which made it a lot harder to figure him out. “I truly haven’t mastered that ability yet. Lies are too easy to tell. Like about Reine.” I paused. He had made me think about her again, so I was going to get some information if I could. “I know all of the tributes who wanted to escape were captured. It’s my fault. So, why would you pretend like she’s not?”

“Hmm.” He started to pace slightly. “Here’s an interesting dilemma that I cannot figure out a way to solve, though perhaps I do not wish to? You distrust myself, and you distrust those who are holding you, though I suppose we appear one and the same to you. Yet you take the words of one at face value and not the words of the other. If I were to tell you I was telling the truth and they were lying, I would not bet on you believing me. Though, maybe you have found it curious after all, that the others are not in the same apartments as you?”

No, because Churi had already clearly stated what was going on there. I crossed my arms. “Churi planted the other tributes easy for me to find. He did it on purpose and then flaunted that in my face. I fucked up enough to make it harder for the rest of them to escape. It’s not improbable that the Capitol took them too. Why would they show their complete hand to me?” Why the hell was I saying all this? But I couldn’t stop. “And I know their intentions. I don’t know yours.” No matter what he had told me.

“And that right there is why I did not bet. I concede your point, as I myself would the first to tell you not to trust anyone or anything they say, especially without a shred of proof for their words. Except perhaps, yourself. Still, I do hope you find it curious to even a marginal degree at worst, considering I doubt that you outright told anyone where Reine’s hiding spot and escape route were? So how else would they actually capture them if they were busy with you lot?” Easy. We could have missed one camera that showed where they were. The Capitol had plenty of Peacekeepers. “If I was to bet on anyone having given that up it would be the assas-forgive me, you know her as Avery? She’s already been in their pocket. But even so, I will tell you only once more that the situation is not how you have been told.”

That last sentence was potentially true, but I bristled. How dare he try to accuse one of my fellow tributes? I would trust them any time over him. I smiled, but I couldn’t promise it wasn’t a snarl. “For all I know, Peacekeepers could have raided the camp to get everyone. I don’t know how the others were captured. And here you tell me not to trust anyone and then make a farfetched claim about a tribute who already was screwed over by the Capitol telling them about her best means of escaping. And then getting screwed over some more. How clever. Forgive me for not believing you.” Shit. I had to gain control again and pretend like nothing was bothering me. I had to think clearly.

His lip quirked in slightly. Well, at least I got a reaction. “Farfetched says the girl who can turn water into, crystal was it? And who shouldn’t exist from all that I’ve read. Nevertheless,” he bowed slightly, and an accent that seemed familiar became more prominent, “I concede the point. I’d ask what it would take for you to believe me, but yet, even I have my limits. All I can do is reiterate the point about looking carefully at the situations around you. And people, though your words on Miss Avery are not far off from what I have witnessed about feeling, uh, screwed over by the ever present Capitol.”

All right. Subject change. I wouldn’t get anything from him, and I would just stay pissed off. Better to try something else. I smiled, and it was a better smile than last time. “We should probably move away from such upsetting topics, though. We are supposed to be celebrating becoming an official Capitol couple, after all. As such, I think it’s only fair that we learn more about each other. I’ll go first. Your star. Reine. How are you connected? I suppose she doesn’t particularly like you from how she’s talked about you to me.”

He smiled. “She saved my life, so so long ago, and I was part of her crew for a time. Her ire is rather amusing, considering she was the one that simply disappeared one day with Alley Cat. Spend enough time around though, and we bump into each other quite often still.” He was still smiling. “Why a pirate? Was it the need for adventure and the call of the sea, or hopes for legends to be told about you and ideas of power? Or simply all you’ve ever known?” He offered his arm so we could keep walking.

Interesting. But what was truth and what was a carefully worded tale? I took it gracefully. I wouldn’t be completely honest. “I grew up on a ship and heard fantastic tales of pirates. When I volunteered, I decided on a whim to take the last name Reeves after a famous pirate I heard stories of.”

“Hmm, stories of course are always very influential. And your next question in our game of tit for tat?”

Shit. My thoughts had been wandering again after I smelled his cologne. I shook my head to try to clear it. “So, it’s completely accidental that you keep running into Reine? You do seem keen on getting her attention.”

“I assure you, she has found me when it is, less than ideal, more than I have sought her out. But the tiniest bit of hero worship does often lead us to try and grab the spotlight more often than is probably healthy. So was training required for all those powers and skills and charms? Or were you just naturally gifted?”

So, he was keeping it vague on purpose. Of course. I smirked and spoke in an exaggerated voice. “It took years of blood, sweat, and tears. I almost died.” My voice became more serious. “I’m certainly not naturally gifted. So, what did you mean by being around for quite a long time? Surely, you can’t mean you’re an old, crotchety man.”

“Your hard work and ability to survive and adapt truly is admirable then. I have been around longer than you would probably expect, based off of my appearance and mor—normal understanding, though I am still younger than Rainbow.” Interesting, if true. There was a flash of pain across his face. Unsure if it was real. “Truthfully, I don’t remember my age, the other two would have a better number for you.” He smiled over at me, with no sign of the previous emotion. “What is your favorite color? It would not do for me to unintentionally offend you with an ill-suited gift in future appearances.”

Now, what the hell was he planning with that question? And what the hell was my favorite color? I had to think for a minute. “A wine red. I’ve especially appreciated it ever since all the Capitol idiots wear bright, flashy colors.” I paused and eyed him. I probably wouldn’t get a good response, but I had to ask. “So, any perks with that unnaturally long life? Magic perhaps?”

“A lovely color. As for perks, there is the obvious of course, of getting to experience as much of the world as possible and watching all of the clever ways it changes, gain a better insight into people, but as for your true interests, yes, there is something like what you would call magic that comes with it.” His eyes flashed. What did that mean? “Though sense, or power might be a better way of defining it, and it presents differently for everyone. I, myself, hear more than others, though I doubt that is as exciting as what you considered.”

The way he said it, I would agree, but I didn’t trust him at all, so it was probably more interesting than he made it sound. I nodded, but he didn’t ask another question. I smirked over at him. “Have I just lost your interest so thoroughly that you don’t have any questions for me?”

“Oh of course not, I was just curious as to your reaction to the confirmation that I am more than meets the eye, however much or little that is. But if you insist, I have another question.” He turned fully to me with a mischievous expression. “Can I steal another kiss before we depart?”

I smirked back. I had to try to get used to his kisses anyway. I’d have to be around him a lot anyway. And maybe I could have some control over this one. “Such a gentleman, asking to steal. Me, I just take without asking permission.”

Before he could react, I smashed my lips to his and pushed him up against the wall. Control. I had to have control. It would probably be the only way I wouldn’t get caught up in the moment. It seemed to be going great. My thoughts were clear as we kissed, but then he grabbed my wrists just a little too tight and flipped so that I was against the wall and he leaned over me, holding my arms above me (even though he wasn’t that much taller than me, the jerk). He kissed me more intensely, and I couldn’t breathe and I was feeling a little dizzy and he let go of my arms and his fingertips brushed along my exposed skin and I was doing the same and shit I was getting caught up in the moment and…

After what seemed like forever, he broke away, and I could breathe. I just leaned against the wall trying to catch my breath. Shit. I had to figure out how to keep my thoughts from being muddled, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to. But I had to admit, he wasn’t bad at that. I certainly didn’t hate it, even though, a more realistic part of my brain said I should never let that happen again.

As he moved back a little, he smirked at me. Shit. “I’m excited to see how your plans pan out, my little thief. If you have any, that is.”

I instinctively smirked, even as my thoughts still weren’t working. “You’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m counting on it.” And with that, he left. He seemed to always be one step ahead of me. Would I be able to catch up?

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years ago

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for the ask meme: 9, 32 & 49 please!

It’s only been 10 days... It’s only a guess which ask game you sent this for...! ^^; (I am basing it on the fact I read the questions and mused about them for this whole time so I am probably right about the game.) @nossbean

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

Oh no. Oh no. I could and should write POSTS upon POSTS about this.

But I haven’t, because I don’t have the energy to. So you get a cheat version of some of my random favorites from my last pages of my AO3 history. And few special shout outs.

@angel-deux-writes Worth is a wholeass gem and I haven’t commented yet, but I binged it basically today (with exception of first chapter) and I can’t stop yelling about it internally, because the way she says things!! She always has some of my favorite Brienne characterization I get so envious over. There is strength and pride in it, and vulnerability and fear and the acknowledgment that her self-loathing is unfounded yet how hard it is to defend yourself, even knowing all that. I could write essays about it and Angel’s stories in general. Anything by her is a treasure trove, truly.

@samirant Rush Me All Night Long is a fascinating concept, so very well executed and absolutely captivating. Makes me go slack-jawed with awe with how seamless it is. And beyond the craftsmanship of the story form itself, the contents are absolutely epic, too. Intrigue, growth of relationship, dash of humor that is right up my alley, lot of good other characters with their wonderful insights... Nothing to add or take away. Just great. And you KNOW you should check rest of her writing out, too. You won’t regret it.

@ajoblotofjunk is back with another subtly, but powerfully in-depth world story with Baby I Will. How many professions has she gotten degree in already? Because the way she weaves art of playing in bars is so organic. And oh, the connection between Jaime and Brienne... Electrifying, a storm that starts as static sparks as they brush past each other. And I can’t wait to watch it grow. (Also shout out to her absolutely beyond epic gift to me, Petrichor. Which is mindblowingly great and written at haste I cannot comprehend. It couldn’t be more tailored to me and I tear up just thinking about it.)

LadyRhiyana’s Stray Sparks II is the perfect example why I tell someone at least once a week “I wish I could LadyRhiyana this”. Her absolutely amazing skill to capture a whole setting, a whole world of emotions in sometimes as few as 5 to 10 sentences (and not the 30 word sort!) is just... Mesmerizing. I admire it so much and am typically absolutely enamored by her stories. Crossover is also in my history and I am absolutely head-over-heels for it.

@kurikaesu-haru Thirsty is the most endearing, captivating way to combine the two meanings of the word and I adore it to pieces. It’s fun and emotional and hot, and everything it could possibly need to be and then some, in best way possible. And her works contain more and more of gold mines, truly.

@firesign23 is a treasure, to this fandom and to me in particular, for many reasons. But her skill to devastate me with short stories is truly something else. Odd Socks (link to one of my favorite of the lot, but do give them all a read if you haven’t!) is what I have in my history, but I rec her as a writer 1000%. Her prompt fills are always poignant and not shy of ache and I can only marvel at them all. But also how could I miss out on mentioning her two breathtaking recent stories for fic exchange? Hold Steady is a Journey without ever leaving Winterfell, but the miles traveled by weary, worried, longing hearts in it... Oof. And, of course, I have to mention by hearts and hands made fast because it’s for me and it made me cry real tears more than once (!) and actually yell in real life, like no other story. Real and complicated as the characters deserve to be told, painful and comforting, absolutely breathtaking in the prose... I could rant for days, truly. And truly, wherever you look at her work, you’ll find more of it.

@aviss Skin Deep is just gem, gem, gem. Am I biased because she wrote for me, in a sense? Maybe. But she ACED it in ways I can barely comprehend. Everything I could wish for in the concept is there and more. Sweet pining, absolute besottery and realistic realizations and then hot, earnest resolutions... What a gem. As is rest of her works, really!

32. Past or present tense?

I used to be such a past tense snob. Nothing else for me, no sir. But now I write almost exclusively in present tense. I can’t tell when the shift happened, I think when I was 20 or few years older than that, and I don’t know why, I think I read a good fic, like really good one, and also was trying to bypass my writer’s block by switching it up. And I found a certain freedom in it. A sense that it makes sense for me to go deeper, to be in present turmoil and wax poetics about it for few paragraphs. Because it’s currently happening, instead of retelling if something that has been. It freed me more in past tense, too, though.

It’s odd I don’t remember how and why the shift happened, almost makes me feel sad.

Nowadays I mostly write in past tense because I get too caught up in flashback sort of sequences and can’t make it grammatically correct anymore so I switch everything to past tense. Tomorrow (with you) is prime example.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Anything. The other day, I was bitterly laughing with a friend I could write a piece about stain on floor, create whole 1-3k word story about someone thinking about the stain, etc. Doesn’t matter if it has funny shape or not, known origin or not.

Most often, though, it’s prompts, it’s song lyrics, it’s some kind of thought/belief I have for character that I want to express/see them through some kind of event in way I think they would. Sometimes, it’s specific setting or watching something. Like, there was one (1) almost head-kiss in a kdrama with secret identities and I created a whole 10k word worth story idea off of it... Sometimes, it’s honestly even just a dumb, dumb post. But yes, music/feelings/prompts, I’d say are the main thing.

And as for inspiration drawn for writing itself... That’s a difficult question for me, right now. In kindest, non-rambly way I’d probably say what other people have lived and written.

Send me fanfic question?<3

#braime #braime ff rec #ask games answered #trying to remember what my rec tag was and failing...#nossbean #sent on a cloud

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docholligay · 5 years ago

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A THING YOU MUST AT SOME POINT DO: Michiru and Zoisite encountering each other in high society.

There was something rather annoying in the fact that the bulk of her class was exactly as oblivious as she had ever assumed. Play the correct notes, in a semblance of order, and above all else, assure that one is properly dressed for the stage, and not a one among them questions the instrument.

To know that those who shared genetic material could fall for such a farce was all at once appalling and completely expected.

“Zoi, such an unusual name, do you not find?” She pointedly looked across the small limousine at her siblings.

Ryuji looked up at her and arched an eyebrow in a way that resembled Michiru’s own so closely it turned her stomach.

“Our second names are unusual in Tokyo.” he looked back down at his notepad, “Kaioh Michiru Adrienne du Cayard.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “and for all the use it gets outside of a French government form, it is allowed to be so, Ryuji Léonard du Cayard Kaioh.”

“I think Zoi is Greek!” Naoko leaned forward, ever attempted to play peacemaker between the two of them, with nothing more than a pair of sneers to show for it.

“There you are Michiru, you should know this, being so enamored of the continent.” Ryuji chuckled.

“Well, we cannot both be the self-styled emperor of Japan, and I am afraid I must take the world that is left to me.” She turned to Naoko, “In any case, Zoi is a Greek girl’s name, you silly thing. And additionally, Zoi Sato, to have such an unusual name against such a plain one?”

Ryuji sighed. “To what point and purpose is this line of inquiry, my darling sister?”

“I was only considering, my dearest brother, that perhaps we are greater fools all to question nothing about his sudden appearance and seeming generosity.” She inclined her head, “A man comes out of nowhere, has seemingly endless resources and yet, it seems, little free cash, knows the finer points and graces of our class, but has no pedigree we can name. The man is a parvenu at best.” She gave a chuckle. “It seems I am the only proper aristocrat in Tokyo.”

Ryuji considered a moment. He and his youngest sister thought little of each other, but there was a shrewdness in her that he was careful never to deny or discount.

“It is odd that we do not know his people, I suppose.” The car stopped. “Michiru, I leave you to your suspicions, but I will also leave Sato Zoi to his affairs as well.”

“Michiru,” Naoko asked cautiously as Ryuji straightened his suit and went to the door, “What do you think Mr. Sato wants?”

“Of this I have no earthly idea,” she took the hand of the driver and delicately stepped out, “But I shall make it my business to discover it.”

The gala was richly decorated, and it might have been impressive to Michiru if she had not lived all her life in such a gilded cage. Crystal chandeliers sparkled, the finest array of hors d'oeuvres from both Japan and the larger world were served from waiters bearing silver trays, champagne flowed into cut and polished glassware. None of this so much as piqued the interest or impress of Michiru Kaioh, whose eyes swept around the room looking for someone in particular.

It was blessing, then, that Haruka had been unable to attend. She was eager and loving and so very brave, but one this Haruka was not, was canny. She had been built for many things, and absolutely none of the were subterfuge. If she had let spill her suspicions about Zoi to Haruka, Haruka would have him cornered in an instant, interrogated hi8m, and been swiftly thrown out of the gala altogether, while learning nothing and giving up her advantage.

Later, Rei would say something along the lines of sensing an evil energy coming from Zoi, and perhaps that would be true, but Michiru had not needed any sort of Sight to tell that the man was up to no good. It was true, perhaps, that the Sight later tipped her to the idea that it could be Usagi he was after, but on the other hand, Michiru might reason there was no other cause to speak to Mamoru Chiba.

But Zoi was, of course. Mamoru had been in his sights for the last few gatherings, a man with more money than sense. The only saving grace that might be have been given to him was that the majority of his money was held in trust, still, and Mamoru would not gain access to it until he graduated college. Michiru had always wondered how long the Chiba money would hold out, after that occasion. It was perhaps ungenerous to blame Mamoru’s parents for dying, leaving him with no one who seemed to teach the boy a good bit of sense or how best to manage his investments, and so he had grown into an awkward thing, accepted mostly on the quality of his name and the shine of his coin, but Michiru blamed them nonetheless. It seemed careless.

“Chiba,” she gave a delicate bow, “How lovely to see you, as always.”

He responded immediately, and it gave Michiru a slight thrill of pleasure to see his own bow was deeper than her own. He knew his place, at the least. Michiru was imposing, she admitted, in her way, a queenly bearing her mother had taught her from birth. She could bow and look as if she had the upper hand, and the draped-back gown in green satin only accentuated the nobility of her.

“An honor to have you, grace us, Michiru.” Mamoru had never quite figured out the line between his role as Sailor Moon’s paramour and Mamoru Chiba. In a Moon sense, he outranked Michiru or was at least her equal. In a life sense, he would never dare. “Kaioh Michiru, may I please present Mr. Sato.”

“Zoi to you, I would hope, madame.” He bowed and kissed her hand. ‘Or mademoiselle, if I should be so hopeful?”

“Do you often hope of mademoiselles? I had not considered it your manner, but I often find that life is all the more exciting for the things upon which my intuition misleads me.”

He raised and smiled coyly, still holding on to her hand. “I hope of nothing but a rich life and a happy ending.”

“It was been my experience that people often mistake that for a life with riches in it, leading their end to be the happiest for others most of all.”

They stood there a moment, simply looking at each other. Something passed between them in that moment, something Michiru experienced little in her life, and last remembered the first time she met Minako Aino. There is an electricity, when one finds a rival whose skill meets one’s own.

“You are clever.” He laughed, finally “Not the first to say so, I’m certain.”

“Michiru is known for her wit, in these circles.” Mamoru nodded, too deeply. He was making himself look obsequious, and Michiru refused to pity him with a glance.

“Razor sharp, I am sure.” His eyes still locked hers.

“Careful my dagger, Zoi,” she smiled her small smile, “for it may yet kill again.”

“Oh! Michiru!”

It was, there turned out, a worse companion than Haruka in this effort, and Mcihiru could hear her voice echoing off the stone, the click of her too-anxious heels on the marble, the woosh of her dress selected for the way it made her feel a princess and not its seasonable fashion. Michiru clenched her teeth beneath her smile.

“You look so beautiful!!” Usagi was next to her in an instant, a giggling cream puff swatched in an off the shoulder pink gown with too large a skirt and too many ruffles. “But you always look beautiful, of course, is Haruka here? I have extra snacks! I bet she looks beautiful too. ”

Usagi offered the plate, containing an indelicate amount of blinis with caviar and lobster toasts.

“I’m afraid she is not, Usagi, but she will be so pleased to know you asked after her.” She looked to the two of them, “Perhaps you and Mamoru should dance, I know not how long the music will going. The night is waning fast.”

“Oh, but we’ve only just begun!” Zoi stepped forward, a look in his eyes lean and hungry as he looked to Usagi. “And who might this captivating woman be?”

At that moment, Michiru could not have told you that Zoi was going to attempt to take Usagi’s silver crystal. She might have felt a prickling of his malice toward the senshi, if she had concentrated, but in this moment she had not. Michiru did not know that there would be quite the battle between ehr and Zoi, in the end.

But what she did know, was that he sensed something in Usagi, and that he desired her not in the way a man desires a woman, but in the way a starved dog desires a steak. He would consume her bones and all, and she knew that intensely in this moment.

“This is my...my significant other,” Mamoru tripped, “Tsukino Usagi.”

“Hi!!” Usagi gave a graceless bow, still smiling brightly, “I see you met Michiru! She’s like a real princess, I think, but she’s nice too!”

Michiru nearly laughed. She had never been nice a day in her life. Pleasant perhaps, and cordial most certainly, but it was an overabundance of grace in Usagi’s own nature that would cause her to ever call Michiru nice. Chiba was either a perfect idiot or a perfect weakling, and Michiru was not certain wich answer she wished to supply. How could he fail to see the way he looked at her? He was a wolf to a lamb, and he was none the wiser.

It was another facet of Michiru’s personal tragedy, that she had clever foes and foolish allies.

“Oh,” Zoi lowered his voice, “But look at you, so like a princess. A perfect mouthful of cotton candy. Don’t you simply melt with sweetness?”

“Usagi,” Michiru grasped her hand, “I am missing Haruka terribly, and I am so very fond of this piece. WOuld you be so kind as to dance with me? It is a waltz, and very simple, I assure you, so there is no need for shyness.”

Zoi glared at her. “I was hoping--”

“Yes,” she looked at him. “You were.”

She swept Usagi off to the dance floor, putting herself in the perfect position, soldier leading her queen. It was very nearly pointless to warn Usagi off of someone she thought to be kind, and to be flirtatious. She would assume only the best of him, and she would witness the gold of his tongue, the jewels of his cleverness, and never suspect them to be so much gilt and paste. It was foolishness, to attempt to warn her.

But, as she took Usagi into the dance, she knew she had to try.

#drabbles #1800 words #I have no idea what any writing tag I have ever made actually is #If I could fix ONE THING about myself #it would be tagging my writing #at least work-wise #I don't normally bother with name order #as I am a westerner writing to a western audience and like #WE ALL KNOW #but I'm trying to make a point about Michiru and Ryuji's allegiances so #there we be #keyofjetwolf

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 5 years ago

Note

Okay first; I absolutely ADORE your fics. That being said I had a very weird (possibly prophetic?) dream about basically a Pirates of the Caribbean x Witcher crossover that was pretty bonkers, but thought it would be super cool to do a Jaskier x Reader fic where the reader is a pirate / captain / outlaw of some kind (because let's be real, that boy has a TYPE and that type is danger). Thank you, I love you okaybye

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 845 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock @kemmastan @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @amirahiddleston @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: I love me a pirate story. Hope you enjoy! loveyoutookbye

The sea was a harsh mistress but then again, so were you.

You’d learned to be tough growing up on a pirate ship. Some girls with captains for fathers stayed home and learned to sew but yours had been determined that you learn how to take his place. He had no desire for further children, you doubted very much that he’d really wanted you, but loved you and his legacy was passed on after his death. His crew had become your crew and though some rankled at being told what to do by a woman they’d once burped and fed, you had their respect. You didn’t dare ask for love, not from them or any other, but you had to admit it sometimes looked nice when you got glimpses of other couples. Or when you heard it in songs, like the one being performed right now.

The bard who sang it was pretty. You didn’t often see “pretty” men, many handsome or rugged or aesthetically appealing in other ways, but with his strong but soothing voice and the way he lightly moved around the room, you were captivated and confused. How could a man, any person for that matter, have eyes such a delicate, pale blue that you found yourself gazing into them like you sometimes did the sea? You spent each some looking as closely as you could at every feature, trying to reason out how it all came together to make someone like him. Someone who looked soft but held some contradictions like the visible thatch of chest hair that didn’t look like it belonged on someone so dapper. Or the rippling of muscles you saw beneath the thin chemise when he took off his doublet after his performance, too warm to wear it any longer. Or the look he gave you when he caught your eye, wolfish and predatory as if you weren’t someone to fear. Most men averted their eyes when you walked in but this bard was not like most men. He took a chair from a table near yours and flipped it around, straddling it before leaning his chin on the edge of its back, gazing at you so openly and adoringly that you nearly blushed. Nearly.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you bit out. He didn’t so much as flinch. If anything, he seemed all the more enamored.

“I was trying to decide how best to proceed,” he replied.

“Proceed with what?” you asked cautiously.

“Wooing you,” he answered simply. You barked out a mocking laugh but he just kept staring. It was innerving being gazed at so intently by eyes so blue.

“I’m not the wilting flower you’re looking for, bard,” you snapped, “Get yourself another girl.”

“I don’t want another girl, I want the woman before me,” he argued.

“What if she doesn’t want you back?” you countered.

“Then I would leave,” he answered quickly, “I would not pressure her. But I also wager that I would not need to.”

“That is a wager you’d lose.”

“Care to make it, then?”

His eyes twinkled, daring you to accept, and a part of you that you thought long dead sparked to life at the challenge.

“Sure,” you said with a sly smile before standing up, “But you’d better hope you can swim.”

You walked out of the tavern without a backward glance.

He ran after you, doublet swung over his shoulder and lute in hand. It was easy for him to catch up quickly with his long legs though he was a little out of breath.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“To my ship,” you answered.

“Oh yes, the perfect spot for a romantic rendezvous,” he crooned.

“The perfect spot to get sailing. We ship off as soon as I get onboard,” you said, sending him a smug side-glance. You expected him to blanche or find an excuse or simply stop walking. His face lit up with excitement.

“Brilliant! A sea adventure! Oh that is just the thing I’ve been missing,” he insisted. You stopped walking and turned to face him, exasperation plain on your face.

“Are you daft? You’re really going to follow a strange Captain you don’t know onto a voyage despite having no idea where it’s going or what will happen to you once aboard? A pirate ship, no less?” you asked incredulously.

“I believe there was talk of a wager,” he replied, “I am a man of my word. So I will board this ship with you and I will sail with you and I will win this wager with your heart and all else you’re willing to give and I will do it while penning songs so beautiful it would make a kraken weep. So, what do you have to say to that?”

He stuck out his chin defiantly, hands on his hips as he waited for your response. You took a beat to think and then you nodded and fixed him with an expression that was just as defiant, just as stubborn.

“I say welcome aboard Roach’s Revenge.”

#Anonymous #Jaskier x Reader #Jaskier imagines #Jaskier fluff #reader request

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viva-la-sterek · 6 years ago

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Happy new year, Sterek Fandom! Here is a list of some greatly enjoyable fics created in the fandom this past year! It’s amazing to see Sterek still going strong with events like @sterekweek-2018, @sterek-smooch, @sterekreversebang, @stereksecretsanta, and many more! Thank you so much to the many writers, fanartists, graphic makers and everyone that contributes to fandom! x3

They Say It's Mighty Fine by @the-apocrypha (1/1 | 23,234 | Gen.)

"Hello. This is Alpha Vernon Boyd, calling from Camp Remus about—"

"Derek?" Talia asks, confused. "You're calling about Derek? Is he okay? What happened?"

"Oh, boy." Melissa blows out a breath. "All right. Is he hurt?"

"He's been there for two hours, what could he possibly have—" John pauses. "Hang on, Camp Remus? Like the werewolf camp?"

Where You Still Remember Dreaming by @yodas-yo-yo (15/15 | 95,612 | Explicit)

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Balto.”

“What’s yours?”

“Stiles.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. That isn’t his real name. There’s no way. But now he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of someone, probably Uncle Peter, telling him that with the fae, names have power. “I’m Miguel,” he says.

“Lie.”

“Are you trying to tell me your real name is Stiles?”

Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth and considers Derek carefully. “Fair enough,” he says, “Miguel it is.”

Grabbing his groceries and pocketing the change, Derek turns to leave; he’s nearly at the door when Stiles calls out, “By the way, Miguel, if you’re interested, it’s two for one on bags of kibble at the pet store down the street.”

Derek doesn’t look back, doesn’t hesitate, just raises a hand and flips him off on the way out.

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants / @pantstomatch (1/1 | 17,936 | Teen)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

Or-

The a/b/o bakery au with feelings

Scrubbing Bubbles by MargaretKire (8/8 | 46,063 | Explicit)

Stiles thought it would be easy doing janitorial work for an office. At first, it really was. The job only took a few hours in the evenings and it helped pay for rent and college. Sure, Hale Industries took up an entire floor in one of the downtown financial buildings, but the place was new and easy to care for. He didn’t even have to spend much time cleaning the huge corner office, because the trash was nearly always empty and the office itself was spotless, like no one used it.

It was basically the perfect college job. At least, until the boss started staying late.

Give you that thing you can't even imagine by LunaCanisLupus_22 (1/1 | 10,982 | Explicit)

the one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he's about to find out he's very, very wrong.

That Frothing Knob by Pride_of_Six (4/4 | 14,598 | Explicit)

Stiles was wiping down the spout of a machine with a cloth, and Derek almost popped a stiffy right there in the café. It was completely embarrassing that after so many years of control over both his human and wolf side Derek would find himself so… enamoured by this random. Regardless, the wolf wants what the wolf wants, and Derek found himself trying his darnedest to get some sort of a rise out of Stiles, “You sure know how to handle that frothing knob.”

Needless to say, Derek got to see that beautiful blush colouring the barista’s face once again.

hey asshole by @everchanginginks (1/1 | 15,631 | Mature)

The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend's big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.

lube and determination by @bleep0bleep (2/2 | 4,873 | Explicit)

It's a holiday classic: homesick boy wants to make a pumpkin pie while studying abroad, boy realizes the only place to find vegetable shortening is a sex shop, and boy makes fool of himself in front of other boy.

The Quickest Way to a Man’s Heart (is Through His Bottomless Pit) by @isthatbloodonhisshirt (1/1 | 54,167 | Explicit)

Pulling open his apartment door, he let out an involuntary shout when something was quite literally thrust into his chest hard enough to have him almost tip backwards. He managed to right himself while keeping hold of what had been shoved at him and looked up in time to see his neighbour striding back towards his apartment.

“You’re going to fucking kill yourself.”

His door slammed.

Stiles blinked at the other man’s door, utterly confused, and looked down at what he was holding.

It was a plastic bag, full of what felt like tupperware, which made no sense to Stiles because when had his neighbour broken into his house to steal his tupperware?

Sharing Food by @aussiebee (2/2 | 9,564 | Explicit)

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? by @sophisticatedyet (1/1 | 8776 | Explicit)

Stiles gets a wrong number call from an old man who can't install his antivirus software. He feels like doing a good deed, so he decides to walk him through it.

Derek is not an old man, just a technologically incompetent twenty-six year old TA who has made enemies of the entire UCLA IT department. The helpful stranger he has just accidentally called is about to become Derek's go-to computer guy.

Bittersweet and Strange, Finding You Can Change (Learning You Were Wrong) by WithMyTeeth (8/8 | 49,983 | Explicit)

When perpetual loner and failwolf extraordinaire Derek Hale finally loses patience with his meddling family, he grabs a confused Stiles Stilinski, unsuspecting diner patron and herbal medicine student, off the street to pose as his new boyfriend. Hijinks ensue.

Companionship by exclamation / @jessicameats (42/42 | 85,697 | Explicit)

Companions are elite pleasure slaves, trained in music, dance, poetry, and, especially, sex. Stiles is the worst student in the history of the companion school, so his teachers decide to get rid of him by claiming he is interested in bondage and selling him to someone who'll keep him restrained and gagged.

Derek Hale is lonely and interested in BDSM. Buying a companion with an interest in submission seemed like a good idea at the time, but it turns out Stiles is not what was advertised. Not only does Stiles hate the thought of BDSM, he also has very strong opinions on what constitutes consent, or lack thereof. But keeping Stiles seems a better option than sending him back to the school, so somehow they will have to work this out between them.

Do Not Go Gentle by @mojoflower (51/51 | 195,878 | Explicit)

Derek Hale, Beacon Hills Alpha and Dom, wakes up in a dark cell already housing another captive – a mute, traumatized sub with a cruel collar around his neck. His only goal is to get them both free of their brutal circumstances; but even as he tries to get his young companion home, a bond between them grows. Nothing comes easily: danger and harrowing echoes of their ordeal shadow every step they take.

too long to the weekend by @dizzy-redhead (1/1 | 5,261 | Explicit)

When Derek agreed to show Stiles around Berkeley, he was thinking of Stiles at fifteen, his childhood friend, the son of his mother's best friend.

He was not prepared for Stiles, all grown up.

Married at First Glance by WonderWolf (14/14 | 63,558 | Explicit)

Married at First Glance gives its participants seven weeks. Seven weeks, starting when they meet and marry their “perfect match”, to decide if they want to stay married or divorce.

For Stiles and Derek though, the challenge lies within trying to pretend that they don’t absolutely hate each other’s guts. When you’re married to a werewolf who dislikes humans, however, this can get a little tricky.

But the sweet, sweet cash reward at the end will be worth it. Right?

(A Married at First Sight AU)

Show Me Your Igloo and I'll Show You Mine by @thisdiscontentedwinter (1/1 | 4,943 | Explicit)

Stiles is finally going to meet the online friend he's had for years.

Instead, the hottest guy in the world walks in.

Broken Car, Lemon Bar by inhystereks / @bibliophile246 (6/6 | 27,884 | Mature)

Stiles got out of his car so whoever was coming wouldn't think he was just being an asshole and stopped in the middle of the road on purpose. He almost laughed when he caught sight of the approaching car. A black Camaro. Which meant Derek Hale was the one slowing down to pull up behind him. The town mechanic and also the scariest fucker around.

Oh, sweet irony.

He was exactly the person Stiles desperately needed and was also terrified of.

Perfect.

The Courting Dilemmas of a Spark and a Werewolf Prince by green-leaf (2/2 | 11,472 | Teen)

Talia smiled calmly. “I am well aware that you are not a werewolf, my darling, but I thought this would be the best reading material for you to use as reference. After all, how would you know how to act during a courting ritual if you do not study it?”

“But I don’t... I’m not…” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you setting me up with someone?”

Talia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be obtuse, my darling. Why would I set you up with someone –”

“Oh, well, that’s good, because–”

“–when I have a son who is already perfectly enamored with you?”

The Accused by @drgrlfriend (1/1 | 5,764 | Mature)

“Remember when I thought I was in love with Kate, and she turned out to be a murderous hunter who killed most of my family and blinded me in the process?”

Erica’s voice was cautious. “Derek — what the fuck — of course I remember, how could you even ask? —”

“Well, my mate is worse,” Derek said flatly.

A Little Less Conversation by Lissadiane (1/1 | 5,626 | Gen.)

Derek has learned to be a good Alpha in most of the ways that count. The problem is, now that he's well-adjusted, safe, and happy, it's time to turn his attention to the one thing he's always sucked at: finding a nice, sweet Omega mate.

Lucky for him, Erica and Stiles have ideas on how to make that as painless as possible.

In which Derek Hale is a failwolf and somehow, ends up going speed dating.

Cheers to more Sterek in 2019!!

#eternalsterek #tag: 2018 #tag: year end round up

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musicalmukebox · 6 years ago

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Let’s Get (Back) Together | l.h. (16)

Ctto of the gif!

AU: Parent Trap Dad!Luke

Summary: A strong love which led to a strong marriage and twin daughters. Yet in the end, it didn’t turn out so well. You strongly refuse to encounter him ever again. But what happens when both of you coincidentally send your twin daughters to the same summer camp in Florida after 10 years?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of cheating

A/N: I’M SO SORRY I DISAPPEARED AGAIN!! Anyways, I am back and I’ll make sure to be more consistent especially that we are near the end! Damn, if you think I’ll let you breathe after all the drama happening, well think again! Hope you enjoy this mix of fluff and angst! I love you all!

I don’t own Parent Trap and its ideas. It’s only used as inspiration.

Masterlist

Main Series Playlist

Feedback/Questions/Others? Here.

2023, Los Angeles

Beads of sweat from your forehead did not cease to stream down continuously while you were leaning forward on the hospital bed, having one hand toughly gripping on one side handle of hospital bed while the other one was clutched on Luke’s arm. Red nail marks trademarked his skin, wincing at every tense squeeze from you, though he couldn’t blame you at all.

“I hate you, Luke Hemmings! So much!”

Not entirely true, you screeched at the discomfort at your lower abdomen. How was your mother capable of this? How did Eleanor do it? They struggled with delivering one child in one go, but how about two in your case? Torture.

“You’re doing well, (Y/N). I can see the head of the first twin!” Dr. Kate praised, viewing your core in its entirety. Your body was growing too exhausted by the intensity and closeness of every contraction that was hitting, and your breaths grew shorter as you pushed. Yet it was like nothing was changing.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this!” You cried out, stopping your motions to pant out all that forced effort and lying back in bed to catch your breath. “You did this to me, Luke! Fuck!”

Luke knew you didn’t mean it, and Lord knew he hated watching you in agony because he contributed half of your current state, fearing whether any complications through the delivery process would erupt. He just wanted everything to be safe and pain-free, until you chose to deliver naturally without any anesthetic. Quite a risk, but you are not bringing your twins through the usage of any drugs.

You were on the verge of giving up at the moment, craving rest before trying again. But the contractions were too strong for you to doze off, which only prolongs the physical agony. Damn, once you see your mother later, you are going to spill out words of praise for being able to handle this. Through your weakest moment, Luke took this opportunity to kiss your hand, and tell you motivating words because he knew you were much stronger than the contractions.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m so proud of you. You got this, okay? Bean 1 is almost here.”

As simple as they were, it mustered up a few more bits of courage and strength for you to channel. Rising back up from your discomforting position, you signaled Dr. Kate that you were ready to go at it. “You sure, (Y/N)? You drained yourself in that last round, and you have another child to deliver.”

Gazing up to meet Luke’s eyes, who has not leaving yours, he held on to your sweaty palm with a hopeful look. “Absolutely.”

Two more tear-jerking pushes alongside a few screams and bean number one was out. Grunting out a heavy breath, your body sunk back at the bed in exhaustion though there was a slight decrease in pressure at your lower region. As you tried to catch your breath, loud wailing surfaced within the hustling of the nurses cleaning off the firstborn. Your droopy eyes got a look of the child, and in awe is the best way to describe this moment.

“It’s a baby girl, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congratulations.”

Luke couldn’t stray away from the little babe getting cleaned up by one of the nurses, already impatient to carry her in his arms. Most first-time fathers would be fearful with carrying their newborns, yet Luke felt otherwise. He’s waited so long for a child of his own, though having two at the same time isn’t any different.

Though before you would formally meet her, there was still another one who is dying to be delivered and eager to meet its parents. Yes, it. Luke and you chose to find out the gender of the twins on the delivery day. Luckily, bean number two was kind enough to be less painful than its older sister and slid out so easily after three pushes.

At long last, full relief has washed over you with heavy fatigue after almost 20 hours of labor. Slowly resting back on the bed, bean number two screamed its lungs out to alarm of its beginning of life, and only there, tears came running down after everything that has just happened.

“Another baby girl only 10 minutes apart, Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings. Congrats again.”

It’s finally official, you are both parents.

When baby number two was quickly cleaned off the fluids that stuck to her body, she and her other sister were carried by two young nurses and handed one each to you and Luke. They were already sleeping peacefully, fidgeting a bit to find that comfortable position to continue their slumber. The younger one was with you, sporting a knitted purple beanie which you’ve received as a gift from Eleanor on your baby shower. Her cheeks were irresistible not to caress with your index finger up and down, gaining a tiny smirk that softened your heart. “Hi, baby. It’s your mom. Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

Admiring her quietly and even nuzzling your face on her fragrant figure with the famous ‘baby smell’. Dr. Kate’s voice pulled you out of your daze just for a few seconds with a question. “Have you thought of a name, (Y/N)?”

“Yes.” You beamed with pride.

“What would it be then?” Dr. Kate inquired, clicking her black pen down to release the tip as she prepares to write.

“Rebecca Audrey Hemmings.” You catapulted back up to your upright position, acting more proper. Well, tried because Rebecca’s tiny nose was worth a boop or two. “Rebecca because as the youngest, she binds our family together, then Audrey from one of my favorite and classiest actresses of all time, Audrey Hepburn.”

When Dr. Kate got the necessary details, she excused herself with another round of congratulations to share. Now you are left with little Rebecca, you watched her as she abruptly woke up and whimpered because the noises from Dr. Kate woke up.

“Oh, no no. Please don’t cry.” Your whispers negotiated, which worked for a bit until she whimpered again. Rocking her back and forth didn’t work as you wanted, then a different approach came across your mind. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of your night gown that you changed to after the delivery, your free and swollen breast was in contact with the small lips of Rebecca, coming closer when she found the nipple. Thank goodness she suckled on it sweetly than roughly, but at least she was satisfying her hunger.

“Aren’t you a hungry one? Definitely like your mother over here.”

In fact, this simple moment bonded you closer to her, letting yourselves become transparent and vulnerable to each other. You being fatigued and her being new to the world. Side by side, the possibilities of future is endless, and you’ll make sure that you’ll bless her with a great one.

Meanwhile, Luke was tied down on his older daughter by the window, rocking her back in forth with the view of the night sky. Her tiny pupils opened a tiny bit, revealing an identical blue color to her father’s. They were doe-like, full of innocence and unaware of the big world she has joined.

“Would you look at that? We have matching blue eyes.”

Obviously, the newborn could do nothing but stare back at the adult who was in utter captivation by her, his lips parting. Luke trailed a finger on her soft rosy cheeks, which was met by a tight grip of tiny fingers around it. It made him more enamored towards her, and by instinct pecked her bare forehead. Those young eyes of hers which haven’t left his view shined even more from the bright night sky, emphasizing the ocean blues. Luke took a second to look away to glimpse that surreal lighting from the vast night space, finding numerous constellations aligning for everyone to watch.

“Wow, the night sky is just gorgeous, my dear. Come take a look.”

He shifted a bit to his right so his daughter’s view may lean towards the sky than his face momentarily. It worked, and she couldn’t look away up until her eyes were gradually closing. Back to sleep she was. Luke continued to rock her back and forth, humming a familiar tune to soothe her more.

“….I guess I was running from something, I was running back to you….”

“Mr. Luke Hemmings?” A young female voice disrupts his serenading, holding a clipboard with a pen. She was one of the nurses from a while ago based on her scrubs that still have some stains.

“That’s me. Yes?”

“Do you have a name for the little bean you’ve got bundled over there?” She perked up excitedly. Probably a fan from the past trying to hold in her emotions and still act professional. Luke wasn’t too transparent to not notice, but he could care less.

“Yes, I do.” Before he says his answer, he took another admirable look at that same night sky, eyeing on every constellation brightly shining and loving every one of them. It was like fate said that the birth of his daughters is a celebration for the night sky, so they must put on a great show. Having one of his twin daughters in his arms without any anxiety was a stellar scene, one he wishes that would last forever.

“Stella Charlotte Hemmings.” He proclaims with delight with a story as to why that was the chosen combination. “Stella because I know she’ll be shining like a star one day, and Charlotte from the band name of one of my great friends aka. shining legends, Good Charlotte.”

“That is a beautiful backstory.” She swooned as her right hand writes away the details. “You’ve always been very creative with your works, Mr. Hemmings.”

“Wow, witty of you. – And I prefer Luke, by the way.” He chuckled softly, trying not to wake little Stella up because he didn’t want to deal any crying before both of you arrived back home.

“Luke!” You’ve called out, envious of how much time he’s spending with your other child because you wouldn’t want her to think that favoritism is a thing as early as birth. Besides, as her mother, you craved physical contact with her. Luke ended his small talk with the nurse and came to your aid, sitting at the chair by your bedside with a little bundle sleeping serenely in his arms. It was worth a photo, but just moving another limb is tiring enough.

“What did you and that young nurse talk about?”

“Oh, she asked for our little bundle’s name and shared how she was a huge fan back in the day. Autographed her phone before she left.” He responds casually, his eyes kept reverting back to little Stella.

“I’m guessing that’s little Stella.” He nods, standing back up to trade her with the other twin, sleeping away too so she can spend time with you. Now with Rebecca in his arms, he was just as smitten and pecked her forehead too because he couldn’t resist.

“Aww, Rebecca has your nose.” He pointed out, cooing and poking her nose like you did earlier.

“That’s what I thought as well.” You giggled, your finger latched on the miniature hand of Stella.

This moment was too perfect, and nothing can beat it. Now, your wedding has been overthrown as the best milestones in your lives. Despite the pain, it was all worth it.

“Thank you for them, love. I’m sorry I contributed in the pain though.” Luke shyly apologizes, earning a feeble chuckle.

“Don’t be. After all, nothing in life comes easy.”

2034, Sydney

Last night’s dinner, kudos to Luke, was pretty exceptional. He was never the one to cook up a meal because back in the day, he almost burned down your old house! At this point, he suggested to hire a butler to serve you when your jobs get too hectic, when you had no more downtime or when you weren’t home when he was. This lead to hiring Mark, which became much less of a burden and a huge help when your pregnancy limited your actions at home.

Starting out as a mom was quite a struggle in the beginning, most especially when you were handling two children. There were time Luke was out working late, and you still had to email back some producers and other important people for your side projects during your maternity leave. When it was about to end, Eleanor actually came across the idea of hiring a nanny when she visited you with young Alex. It was because it would be much less distracting and inconvenient rather than bringing the girls to work. Foreshadowing, this nanny turned out to be Felicia, who was in her mid-twenties then. She was also an excellent chef, a definite plus!

Being at the Café Sweetener is something you want to back out because it felt like a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t. You agreed to it because it’s about time to let out some transparency. Even though you’re the victim, your mercy on him remained dominant.

Now seated across him in the café, there was killer silence because you both equally feared of saying the wrong things and set the wrong mood. Well, he brought this on you, but still. As much as possible, this must be handled mutually and figure out where both of you stand in this relationship. Or whether there will still be one after. Paps caught the both of you entering the café individually, assuming that it was a romantic date of sorts. But the pictures they’ve been trying to take, all they got were frowns and weren’t pleased, so they passed on the opportunity.

Both of you were situated on a private area of the café so no one inside could eavesdrop on your agenda, shyly ordering drinks and pastries before discussing everything. Once you received them, here’s where business is done and over with. He must have places to be, and you have a family back at Luke’s waiting for you to spend time with. So where exactly now do you stand?

“I thought you were over her.” You spilled out as you stirred your hot tea and looked at him straight in the eyes. Though his eyes couldn’t even look straight to you due to the shame. He hid his held back emotions for too long and afraid for what you have to say, and he should be. “But you aren’t, are you?”

He felt the pain in your tone. You’ve gone through so much, and here you are facing heartbreak again. Inevitably, he came to his senses, dropping the façade he attempted to hold strongly. “I thought I was.”

“How so?” That truth hurt like a bitch, and you were trying to show in your face how deep it stung. You needed more reasons just to understand more. Although you wanted to just walk out and leave it be, you were much better than that. Ready to face this head on and no longer that naïve girl who’d run away from her problems, you followed up. “I would like to know more.”

“What?” He was surprised, almost expecting that you would slap him in the public for all the roaring paparazzi outside desiring a new talk of the town, then storm out because he knew your dealing mechanism is too space away from everything. Besides, he deserved it.

“Timmy, I’m done walking out and being fearful. Please tell me everything.” You’ve reconnected with your guidance counselor persona for him like in the past. Quite rusty, but you were all ears.

“Honestly,” He started off, his elbows on the table to get a little closer but there was still a respect of boundaries. “I was bummed as fuck when you declined to attend the afterparty, but I knew you had your reasons with your family which I fully respect. It’s just that, it was something we planned beforehand, and without you, my experience would empty. I felt threatened by Luke too, why do you think I was harsh on him?”

“What’s there to be threatened at? Luke and I are merely and only work as the parents of Rebecca and Stella, nothing more and less.”

“Not by the way he looked at you in every picture and interview you did. Fuck, I saw both of you guys being touchy in the theater!” He counteracts, almost slamming her utensils on the table and startling you.

“Wow, can you blame that the film was a masterpiece?! Personal comfort serves a better job than tissues, and again, I’ve told you numerously he and I are trying to regain a strong family foundation so trust is needed for that?” You also weren’t having it as he tried to pin the fault on you for his actions, being the victim now.

“Fuck, now you’re defending him? I saw the way you grazed his fingers and laid your head on his shoulder, (Y/N). Being touchy is beyond the limits of personal, especially with an ex!”

“Pretty hypocritical of you now huh, Timmy?” You shouted right at his face. This was just overwhelming, and with the way you were battling, neither can win. With a minute to regain energy, you continued on with slight bitterness. “What happened after being bummed out?”

Timmy exhaled, dreading to tell but he wouldn’t feel fair. “Unexpectedly as I was about to ride the car set for the both of us, I accidentally bumped into Maika on the way. One glance of her, and somehow I felt an a unavoidable string pulling me closer to her so I invited her to the party just as a friend because we just wanted to regain that strong friendship. We sat somewhere private, ate a lot and drank a bit. Not even 2 drinks in, we just revealed everything out; all those pushed back emotions. I cried, and she did too. Drank a few more shots before she said I love you.”

“What did you say? And don’t bullshit it.” You just knew what he was going to say as he finally got the courage to look at you in the eye, but you wanted to hear it for more closure.

“That I loved her too.”

Do not cry, (Y/N). Do not dare. “Did you m-mean it? – And don’t lie either.”

“Fuck, I did, (Y/N).”

Without you realizing, your mind was stimulating your eyes to release tears from heartbreak. You just could never be lucky with romance. To conclude his confession, “It only took one glance to change everything and made me rethink that although it didn’t work out the first time, time away gives you maturity and emotional growth, also time for self-love. Things happened so fast when we were working on Hot Summer Nights and ended the same way. That one simple and accidental glance of her and I felt everything again. Only this time, they were mostly sparks of my affection for her, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.”

As painful as you felt, these life realizations he was stating really shows how much he’s learned and that he’s dealing it better than you. His pain and guilt were easily sensed by the way his eyes drooped so low that he couldn’t look you straight in the eye as he indirectly pleaded you to respond to this words. As much as this felt like a strong slap on the face, letting him go on with life where such a huge mistake like this will haunt him forever is worse than not saying anything in return, which leaves a mystery. To hold grudges is tempting, but it is also wrong.

“He cheated, (Y/N). A big red flag.”

“He said that he no longer loved her, yet he betrayed the trust.”

You were too consumed with your thoughts, not so sure how to approach it properly. As selfish as you want to be because cheating is wrong on all levels, another thought came through, but with a different intention. Something you never figured would be reasonable and still ethical.

"A soulmate is not who makes you happiest, but who makes you feel the most."

“She’s like your soulmate, huh?” By the way his voice was quivering yet stated it confidently, it was quite obvious that he was telling the truth. Yes, his actions were wrong because you were still together, but the heart wants what it wants. You are his friend first even if the trust has been tainted, though the road of closure here is maturity and acceptance. Yes as well, you were pained, but you cannot let him be pained too. You weren’t like that.

“Then go after her, Timmy.”

“Wait, what?” Timmy was already prepared for a raging outburst from you, so your recent words were uncalled for.

“Go after her, Timothee. Don’t make me say it again.” You said with dismay, concealing all the heartbreak by building more walls up your ego. “You might lose her forever if you don’t do and say anything.”

He was still in disbelief, wondering if you were messing with his mind and doing some sort of reverse psychology on him so he would stay. “(Y/N), ple-”

“Holding this against you is so tempting, Timothee. I questioned my worth because of it. Although it’s been only a few days since we’ve seen each other, I’ve come to accept that grudges are unhealthy for me. I’ve experienced all sorts of unhappiness these past years, and now I will no longer stand for it.” You tilted his chin up with your index finger so you would get a better view, caging all those pre-destined tears and praying for calmness of nerves. Timmy sucked up and captured in the view of you, heavily breathing for the tension. “If only one person between us should get their happy ending, it should be you.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N). Are you that oblivious?” Timmy grew capable to talk again, letting his instincts do the talking.

“Oblivious to what?” You peaked an interest with his question. He blinked twice, gathering his thoughts so that what he was bound to say wouldn’t come out wrong. He already messed up the first time, so he’s pressured that he shouldn’t make more faults.

“(Y/N), Luke is still so obviously and madly in love with you.”

A cat got your tongue and doesn’t intend on giving it back. Were you hoping it was true? You weren’t sure, but one thing was, and it was that he’d stop talking about it. “You have no proof, Timothee. Now please don’t make this harder for the both of us.” You rejected his allegation, praying that the attention doesn’t get to you. But you jinxed it, because Timmy didn’t stop from there.

“He looked so happy when you were taking photos in the red carpet, and those looks he gave at you? Fuck, those were the same lovingly looks he gave when you were still married. I’m not that stupid, you know.” He was very specific with his observations, and it created dead air between the both of you. Though his stare at you was raising in intensity, he was positive that he will get you to admit the actual truth because he was confident enough that you were hiding it.

But were you really hiding anything to begin with? Have your feelings towards Luke really dead? Was it really all strictly parental? Sure, he comforted you in stressful times, but was it only friendly? With this, it leads to the main question is: do you still love him? You were stressfully contemplating on all these resurfaced questions, dreading how much effort will be drained from your brain.

“I’m sure he isn’t in love with me anymore, Timothee. In fact, he’s getting married soon, and I’ve already let him go years ago because I’m just too toxic for him, and vice versa.”

Timothee was still unfazed, disagreeing with your actions. “(Y/N), you’re letting him go because you love him and want him to be happy, even Sierra is awful. How can you not see that? Also, why are you allowing him to get off with that woman?” Timmy was testing your boundaries, almost turning the situation 360 degrees, wherein you were now in question and not him. Because he’s admitted his actual feelings, he really wanted you to keep in touch with yours.

“Look, I don’t want to interfere with Luke’s personal life, Timmy. That isn’t something I would even do! One thing is for sure and it is that he deserves happiness, even if I’m no longer in the equation.”

“But I believe that you’re his true happiness, (Y/N). Sierra could never match up to you.” He insists, making your thoughts and emotions grow wild. You thought you could’ve hidden them so much more, but your mind and heart are malfunctioning due to all those recent late night signs and contemplations that are getting you to realize that they aren’t a coincidence.

Bringing Stella to Camp Wonder? There was hesitation on your behalf, but your mother asserted you to push through with it so it can teach Stella new things and make her more independent. She would’ve never met Rebecca if you let her stay with you. With Rebecca, she was living with her father.

Going to the VMAs? It was a comeback after all those years, and it made people happy. Not having done it would never let you unexpectedly encounter Luke and catch you off guard before your daughters formally did. That was a sign of awe, getting your heart racing already, but you had to shut it down first.

Looking through old things in the “Luke” box while wearing his musky sweater without hesitation after he brought you home from Delilah’s? If you didn’t do it, you would have never reminisced those happy days and open up to Luke because back then, he did make you the happiest girl alive.

Inviting him to your film premiere? It was the first time in a decade that you and he were spotted together. If you didn’t invite him, you would be a nervous wreck stuttering in every question in the interviews and an emotional one too if he didn’t sit beside you and exchanged minimal touches to calm your system.

Meeting that cab driver? He made you rethink everything and really evaluate your life with him. If he didn’t interfere, you wouldn’t have connected with your heart before you slept with your mascara-tainted face, wherein your laziness caved in.

Quite frankly, there happens to be a link with these instances, but there was one more that confirmed everything you’ve tried to deny: last night before dinner. You’ve kept a close eye on every bodily and facial feature of him and knowing its emotional equivalence when you and he talked about your days. In fact, you had racing thoughts that kept directing to the unholy side numerously and didn’t put too much effort in redirecting them back to the platonic zone. You chose to think that way because you couldn’t help yourself. Shamelessly enough, it was like you were still wrapped around his finger and never really let go. Only loosened.

And so whether or not you still love him, he was getting married already to a woman whom you’ve despised. In risking that he knows that you both hate each other, you kept your mouth shut. If this was another chance at happiness, let him be. There may be something in Sierra that he actually accepts and appreciates that you couldn’t see through, so he needs to take it.

“God, you need to rethink this through, (Y/N). All the signs are there, laid out in front of you.”

“But I already ha-”

“You’re letting a great man to marry an evil woman. It wouldn’t just be him at fault, but your daughters as well.” Timmy said monotonously as he took that last gulp of his coffee, closing his eyes as a mechanism to further enjoy its bittersweet taste because all he’s received are bitter vibes. He treasured that small percentage of the sweet, alarmed that from here on until God knows when, he would live with that mistake of betraying you.

“I need space from you, Timmy.” You’ve looked intently at him as the pressure in your system boiled up, wanting to process everything once more solo. He was correct without a doubt with what you’re doing, but he still fucked up more than you.

“I understand, (Y/N).” He got up from his seat and left the napkin from his lap on the table. Taking slow steps away, he stopped by your shoulder and put a hand on it. “I may have messed up, and I’m fucking sorry that I did what I did. But remember that you deserve happiness. I can’t force you to love him again, but at least you must do the right thing. – Goodbye for now, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Timmy.” He kissed the top of your head as he slowly distances away from you. You could’ve already turned into a crying mess because that has been so common these past days with everything that’s resurfacing and occurring, but no. Not this time.

“Do the right thing, (Y/N).”

And damn right, you will.

“Good night, girls.” Luke waves at the two, who’ve reached the top of the stairs already.

“Night, dad. Night, mom.” They said in sync before going inside Rebecca’s room, which was quite a mess since Stella hasn’t properly organized her belongings meant for her luggage. She had shirts on Beck’s bed, some sneakers under it, and even her dress from the premiere was crumpled on the mini rolling chair by Beck’s study desk.

As much as she didn’t want to pack yet, she had to, or else you would leave her behind. Although it was a good idea since she knew how to travel alone, it would be fair to you. Either way, the situation of leaving (or staying) was a lose-lose situation. She already risked so much just days ago for and with her father, and she couldn’t allow herself to get in a rough state ever again with you, who was just as broken as he is. What a heart-warming thing that she really has all this love her despite that consented lack of paternal influence for a decade, even if she had no idea about the breakup. With or without knowing, she kept an eye on you always just like you. Like mother, like daughter.

Rebecca laid back on her headboard, lowly viewing the slowness and feeling the emotional heaviness of her twin sister’s movement to load her luggage. She was just as disheartened that Stella was leaving when everything is about to get better with the family, and it worries that she didn’t have a clue when she’d see her again personally. Sure, video calls exist, but with the wide time difference? It’s too much of a sacrifice for one of them to be awake late night, while it’s day time for the other since school was about to start for them individually. They respect each other so much that they wouldn’t want to disrupt their rest and health. Regardless, she is thankful. Thankful they had time to achieve a huge chunk of their initial plan.

Throughout it, they matured so flawlessly from the different experiences that profoundly influenced their mindsets since now, it will be very important because they are almost reaching their teenage years. Also, the wise words they have received from the new people they’ve met and those whom they knew their entire lives. The main learning experience they took home for them to really cherish in the long term was that though you dream so big it hurts because you really want it to come true, you should still take things slowly because hard work and growing isn’t overnight.

A proper application of that would be their parents’ past romance.

To recap, their main mission was to set you two up again in hopes you’ll fall in love again, get married and receive the dream happy ending of having a complete family. But in time, they processed the logic that forcing that kind of commitment and rushing it all in the limited time they were given only would worsen things and crumble down. Luke indirectly revealed from the Sierra incident that he and you broke things off because there was a lack of trust and based on previous calculations from the day you met up to the day you married, it was all happening so fast. It was almost like back then, the honeymoon stage lasted for too long that when it was over, neither of you could handle the pressure.

With that in their knowledge, no same mistakes should be done twice. Surely, it gutted them harshly to accept this, but in order for this to work, it’s about time to take things slowly. Learn and relearn from each other and not to expect too. No longer was the endgame for the both of you to fall back into love, but to grow and strengthen the family for all the missed time.

“Earth to Becks. Becks to Earth.” Rebecca was removed from her thinking realm when she overheard her twin calling out her name numerously. How long has she been in her trance?

“Shit, sorry. What were you saying, Stella?” She trained her mind to focus on her twin, no more dozing off like usually what she does in her math classes.

“Well, I was saying that everything was too fast and too soon. Shucks, now the family is mending back to pieces, I’m leaving you and dad again.” She wept, the separation anxiety already kicking in her system. As much as she loved you, she disliked that your job is interfering with all these family plans, all before it was time to go home and get back to school. Times will get busier, and the future is unpredictable. What if cutting ties again will occur?

It’s a good thing she isn’t alone on this fear. “I’m on the same page too, Stella. It’s too soon yeah. But hey, at least we had some memories for keeps, right?” Rebecca attempts to remain optimistic, anxious for the unknown. Then out of the blue, her phone vibrated against her pocket, which is a signal that she got a message. As she yanked it out, it was none other than Darcy Styles. She couldn’t hold back her smile and quiet giggling when she slid on the notification, unlocking her phone.

[10:36 PM] Darcy Styles: Hey love! How was your day?

Ever since Darcy and Becks switched numbers at the movie premiere, they’ve been talking non-stop about anything, like food, TV shows, animals, the possibilities are endless! Phone calls were rare because they live on opposite sides, and there hasn’t been any down time, so texting was easily accessible.

[10:37 PM] Becks Hemmings: Pretty fun! Went around Sydney with the fam! How about you?

Yet only recently, they’ve grown even closer when Becks let herself vulnerable to her through messages when she was on the way home from the beach house post-Sierra, when the deadliest silence was driving her nuts mentally. If you think that the Sierra issue was only between your and the bands’ families, you thought wrong. Issues like that can really affect how you think, and at her young age, she needed more support. And seeking that from Darcy even she wasn’t physically there to comfort her was really helpful.

Darcy is different from all her old and new friends, like she really understood the struggles and open in giving proper advice. Becks is not one to let her guard down easily, but with Darcy, she felt secured. It’s too soon to say, but with their continuous conversation, Becks finds herself questioning more, and it hasn’t been the first time.

“Ooh who texted?” Stella cooed, zipping up her final luggage with a hint of trouble because there were too much items tightened inside. Back and forth with the zipper so it wouldn’t break, she got to close it eventually and jumped to the bed, where her twin still hasn’t answered her question. Even though she knew who it was, she wanted to hear it for herself.

“Jane, from camp. Remember her?” Becks lied, keeping her phone out from Stella’s lingering eyes. But Stella was quicker than her to glimpse at their recent messages, squealing, “Yeah right!! Totally not one of my best friends, that’s for sure.”

Rebecca got flustered, not used to having anyone to talk to about these growing feelings that she has never experienced. Freaked out was an understatement too because these kinds of feelings towards someone who is the same sex as her was still not okay in society, and she didn’t want anyone to change their view on her. Most especially her family.

“Hey, you okay? You look zonked.” Stella snapped her fingers at her, halting her racing thoughts.

“Oh y-yeah. Feeling perfect.” Another lie leaves Rebecca, only this time, Stella knew she wasn’t being honest, and that breaks an aspect of their sisterly pact. This cannot be.

“Hey.” Stella starts off, obviously seeing her sister’s fright. She felt nervous too. “You know you can tell me anything? We are family after all.”

Rebecca was ashamed to have said those lies as she recalled of their pact, but they were her shield. Though the world has progressed so much these past decades, sadly there was still a slight stigma, and she heavily reflected on that. She’s seen clips online and on the television about kids like her who were disowned and even murdered because of how they identify themselves. Also, she felt as if she was invalid because she couldn’t just choose one to fully like without others having to say that “there’s no middle ground! just choose one.”

“Rebecca? - Look, I’m not pressuring you to share me what you’re feeling, okay?”

She was called again by Stella, who stated a disclaimer, although she really wanted to understand what her twin was feeling. Rebecca trusted Stella enough to know that she has no prejudice in her heart, but she was still hesitant. Regardless, she needs to be an honest girl. She took a deep breath, praying to the heavens for the best. “You do remember Jane, right?”

“Oh yes, Jane. She “accidentally” spilled orange juice on me that one time when we were still enemies in camp during lunch time.” Stella gestured, reminiscing such an embarrassing moment. “I’m sorry, but she was kind of a little shit.”

Rebecca chuckled. “None taken.”

“What about her though?” Stella continued on, wanting to know the main point of Rebecca bringing her up.

This is where Rebecca had her nerves all over the place, trying to calm them down so she could speak more sanely and properly. She managed to get this far, so might as well open up more so she could more truthful to Stella, and most importantly, herself. It was a good first step, and Stella was all ears.

“Well, one late night in my cabin with her and Hannah way before you and I met, we were playing truth and dare. I chose truth, and Hannah asked if I’ve ever kissed a boy.”

“And then?”

“I said yes, with some boy in my Math class way before camp. His name was Noah, and he was pretty cute. Anyways, not the point. When I was done, Hannah asked Jane the same question, where Jane said dare. This is where things for me got more mind-blowing.”

“What happened, Becks? You’re scaring me.” Stella says with unease.

Rebecca prepared herself for the worse, and admitted, “Hannah dared her to kiss me. And when we did, she cringed and ran away because she was embarrassed. It’s like I’m supposed to feel the same as her and shake off the cringe, but I didn’t. I actually enjoyed it.”

Stella struggled to comprehend at first, asking “So wait, you liked the kiss from Jane in the same way you kissed Noah?”

Rebecca nodded, her voice growing shaky as she added, “To be honest with you, this hasn’t been the first time I’ve liked boys and girls in the same way. - I used to have a big crush on Nick when we were in preschool because he always gave me flowers, and Alex teased me about it a lot. It died when he began giving flowers to someone else, no hard feelings alongside. Although when I was around 7, I became attracted to Scarlett, who was around 9. She is a great singer, and really pretty, having brown curly hair with green eyes that caught me off guard. She was my first girl crush, until she called me a “little sister from another mister.” Indirectly, I was friendzoned, but I’m glad that it made me realize more things about myself.”

“Which was? Summarize everything, poppet.” Stella was still puzzled, but not as much as earlier. Rebecca was right, noticing that she had no judgmental faces to give and open to listen to her. She felt safe.

“I’ve accepted that I like boys and girls in the same romantic way. – Stella, I’m bi.” She came out, yet hid herself under a blanket like before with you, when she revealed her real self. This moment coincidentally mirrored that. This was a huge step for Rebecca in accepting a part of her identity, and she’s relieved to have done it. Still, she braced herself with her twin has to say about it. “Say something please.”

Stella was pretty stunned at first because she would’ve never figured Rebecca felt this way. However, it was not the first time to experience and meet someone who was not straight; an example already is Gina. This has already opened her mind about the various kinds of diversities in our world and increased her interest in learning these new things. She could never see herself as someone with ignorance because those types of things cannot be chosen, they just come along. And the best way to go is to accept, learn more and love equally. “Uncover yourself first, Becks.”

Stubborn at first, Rebecca came to her senses and followed the older twin, removing the thick white duvet from her face. She sat upright, her eyes were still viewing downwards to her sweaty palms. Stella sees right through her emotions, and clasps her hands on the sides of Rebecca’s hands, trapping them. Rebecca was surprised, making her look upwards to her sister, with a sensible grin. “What made you so afraid to tell me, poppet?”

She didn’t expect such an inviting tone, fearing that it could be a façade in order to make her feel better. But she had a gut feeling that Stella wouldn’t lie like she minimally did, it would worsen their sisterly pact.

“I was scared that you would look at me differently, like I’ve seen films and videos of people who came out and aren’t accepted. I just got you and mom back, and I didn’t want to lose you again.” Rebecca shed a single tear, successfully trying her best to refrain from producing another. Stella caught it, wiping it away from her face.

“You will never lose me and mom, alright? Don’t even think of that!” She reassured. Rebecca was thankful to be accepted for who she is really is, wherein no more hiding secrets between her twin. Though, there is still you and Luke to tell.

“Does dad know?” Stella added. Rebecca shook her head left and right, her thoughts redirecting now to him. Will he still love her in the same, fatherly way?

“Ooh, I see. But no rush, okay? - There is no need to feel ashamed, Rebecca. It’s part of who you are! We live in a time where topics like this aren’t as taboo as they used to be way back based on what school taught me, so you must embrace that, and if others don’t like it, then screw ‘em! Easier said than done, but this is a start. So thank you for trusting me, I fully accept and love you and nothing will ever change that.” Stella elaborated positively, then willingly offers a hug to Rebecca, who takes it. This made her heart grow 10 times bigger because she was understood properly.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Rebecca mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for Stella to hear. As they part from their intimate gesture with warm hearts, Stella brought up a previous question back. “So, who actually texted you a while ago?”

“Darcy.” Rebecca comfortably answered. “We’ve been talking since the premiere, though it’s all friendly.”

“Yeah right! Do you think I don’t see your eyes and smile beam up when she texts? You’re into her, 100 percent!”

“Am not! I may like girls, but I can still be friends with them! And hey, do you think I don’t see how much you gush around Alex recently?” Rebecca retaliated proudly, finally getting to ask that especially after she’s sneakily watched them from afar at the campfire. “You know, I saw you guys get cozy back at the beach house, specifically at the camp fire.”

“That was nothing really. We were just getting to know each other more since most of you guys left to either pee or get sodas when we weren’t up for them!” Stella defended herself with the truth. Or so she thought it was as of now. Girls can be just friends with guys, anyways.

“O-kay, whatever you say, bub.” Rebecca surrendered her arguing even though she had more receipts towards her sister and best friends getting very close. Majority of people would be disgusted if they found that their sibling is dating their best friend, but not with Stella. She’s already thinking in advance, and she’s pretty cool with it if something happens. But if any of them mess up or fool around, then damn prepare yourself.

“Let’s not think too ahead of ourselves okay? Let’s just focus on now please. – Okay, wait. I just realized something.” Stella adds on.

“What is it?”

Cue maturity development.

“Pretty tough to say, but I’m happy that there’s no more bad blood between mom and dad. Like although it’s a bonus, it doesn’t matter to me anymore if they don’t fall in love again like we wanted, but just to have this time together was much better.”

“I actually agree. We should never force them to do that because falling in love again isn’t easy, and since mom is with uncle Timmy, we should respect that. As long as the family is reunited happily and I get to see you and mom more, then I’m happy too.” They hugged once more to seal their sisterly love, before Rebecca brings up a less serious topic and gets a hold of her laptop from her study desk before lying back down.

“So, remember we asked how mom and dad met? It was through one of dad’s music videos, Valentine?”

“Yup, what about it?”

“Wanna take a look at it then? It’s just in Youtube anyways.”

“Omg yes, type away!” Stella cheered, watching her sister type the words and clicking on the first video that came up, with Luke and you on the thumbnail. As they listen to the song and view the video attentively, they adored at how little you’ve facially and physically aged.

“Wow, they look amazing.”

“Woah, mom’s kissing everyone here.”

Those were some of the many comments they gave, jamming along to the familiar song they’ve overheard playing when they were still apart. How music is truly strong in connecting people. Afterwards, Stella suggested Netflix on Rebecca’s widescreen television, which was fulfilled because the latter wanted to watch as well. As they scrolled through numerous categories of films, they settled on old family movies, ranging mostly from Disney. Nothing has yet caught their eye since they’ve watched numerous times, until they landed on unfamiliar film, of which once they’ve read a synopsis, they were hooked.

“Hmm, the Parent Trap. Looks promising.” Stella plays the mini trailer of the film, intrigued.

“When two girls who seem to be polar opposites meet at summer camp, they think they have nothing in common -- only to discover they're identical twins.” Rebecca reread, crinkling her eyes in realization. “Could relate to us, huh?”

“Probably? But we won’t find out ‘til we play the movie? Come on now!” Stella infers, impatient for her sister to press the play button.

“Jeez, chill! Pressing play.”

“(Y/N), wait!” Luke chases after you after you ran away in shock. You were in disbelief, lacking oxygen in your lungs at the bomb Luke has just dropped. Nothing could stop your pace as you dangerously leaped the slippery steps. Blasting open the door of the guest room, you loudly locked it shut before jumping on the bed with your raging emotions. Screaming against your pillow, a waterfall of tears were released. Only this time, it was the peak of your pain. You hiccuped more than usual and screamed until your throat became dry.

Not so long later, soft knocks crept in when you removed the pillow on top of your head. “(Y/N), please let’s talk.”

“Leave me alone.” You shouted back, too hurt to face him and full of anger in your heart.

“Please open the door. I’m begging you.” Luke knelt against the door, pleading to explain.

“Just go away, Luke.”

129 notes · View notes

sexvimpulse · 5 years ago

Text

Xander: [Watches her pick out costumes for your, smiling because she’s so happy but sad as they won’t be seeing each other as much] I like the boots. Very sexy. [Bites his lip as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair]

Jasmine: [Appears from behind the curtain, ignoring the mirrors as she waits for his reaction to the thigh highs, mini skirt, and intricate top that she’s wearing] What do you think? [Runs her fingers through her hair as she gazes at him, liking how his eyes drink her in] Do you? [Faces the mirror as she hums softly, playing out how she would perform in the outfit as she gets down low, purposely drawing his attention] What else do you like? [Asks lowly as she moves to him, standing between his legs as she tilts up his chin]

Xander: [Raises a brow as she puts on a show for him, loving how she performs for him] A lot of things. [Bites his lip as he looks up at her, gripping her full ass in that tiny skirt]

Jasmine: Mm, like what? [Gazes at him as if he’s a god, wanting to worship and be worshipped by him] Gimme details, baby. You know I live for that. [Has a heated look on her face as he grabs her thick ass, making her moan for him] Kiss me. [Lifts her legs as she places her heel next to him and points to her inner thigh] Here, so I can save a memory of it.

Xander: I know, baby. [Eyes her darkly as he doesn’t give in, loving to tease her. He frowns at her last words, remembering that they’ll be apart for a while. He leans in and kisses her thigh deeply, leaving a mark as he sucks on it] Mine.

Jasmine: [Narrows her eyes as he plays their little game, loving when he toys with her that way] Baby, don’t make me beg. [Purrs before angling her head to the side as she watches him between her legs] Mmm, my god. [Releases a low moan as the sensation reaches her aching core] Yours. [Tilts his chin up again, her leg remaining next to him as she leans down to lick his lips] Only yours. [Whispers as she feels that they’re connected on a deeper level, the thought makes it harder for them to be apart]

Xander: [Moans as she licks his mouth, catching her tongue as he kisses her] Better be. [Pouts as he pulls her down to straddle him] I don’t want you to go. [Wraps his arms around her and hides his face in her neck]

Jasmine: [Weakens for that pout of his as she straddles him on the couch, instantly leaning in to kiss his neck and collar bone] Come with me. [Holds him tightly as she inhales his scent, wanting to consume him in every way] I don’t want us to be apart, baby. [Gazes deeply as she shows a vulnerable side]

Xander: Mm.. [Melts at her kisses] I don’t know, baby. I’m supposed to be working on this album with Ana.. [Sighs as he rubs her back] I don’t want to be apart either.

Jasmine: [Cups his face, rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs as she has her eyes on his lips, watching his every move as if she can see the words he’s speaking] I understand.. [Trails off as a part of her knows that Ana feels a certain way about him] Please. Come with me for a little bit. [Rests her forehead against his before closing her eyes as she presses her lips to his for a slow kiss] I’m begging..

Xander: [Is so soothed by her touch as he closed his eyes] Hm.. you know I can’t resist when you beg. [frowns as he wraps his arms more tightly around her, returning her kiss] Okay.. I’ll see what I can do. [Runs the tip of his nose against hers]

Jasmine: Mmm. Yes, I do know. [Purrs against his lips before feeling whole again] You will? [Her eyes are full of excitement as she rewards him by kissing the tip of his nose] Thank you, baby. [Whispers softly as she tightens their embrace] You can FaceTime with Ana while I’m performing or something. We can try to make it work. [Feels somewhat guilty for putting his partner on hold as she knows how important his music is]

Xander: I don’t think that’s really a good idea. [Shakes his head as he knows Ana doesn’t like her much] I don’t like writing that way. I’ll try to meet up with her for sessions when I can but I’ll be writing a lot on my own.

Jasmine: [Scratches the nape of his neck as his comment only confirms what she knows about how Ana feels] Baby, your music comes first. [Stares at him deeply] If you don’t think it’s going to work out then we can just try to work through it.

Xander: [Shakes his head as he looks up at her] No, I want to be with you. [Kisses at her neck] I want to take care of you while you’re touring. [Kisses her shoulder] Hm.. I’m absolutely crazy about you. [Inhales her scent]

Jasmine: [Closes her eyes as she feels his lips trailing along her neck, making her want him] I would love that, baby. [Moans softly as she can’t help but grind on his lap] Are you sure your music will be okay? [Asks before feeling her chest pounding at his words as she feels the same way] You’re going to ruin me. I already know it. [Whispers before cupping his face as she leans in to slip her tongue into his mouth]

Xander: [Smiles softly] It’ll be okay. No pressure from the label right now. We’ve got time. [Nods as moans against her mouth] Mngh.. you’ve already ruined me. I don’t ever want to be with anyone else.

Jasmine: [Places trust in him but still feels guilty about it] The second you need to go back just tell me. [Feels her core aching as she hears his words. Her heart races as she kisses him deeply before sucking on his lower lip] My god. [Tugs his lower lip as she takes his hands, making him grip her ass] Am I your girl, baby?

Jasmine: [A sultry smile appears on her lips as he’s as devoted as she is] I want to worship you, Xander. [Whispers into his ear before sucking on his lobe]

Xander: [his eyes roll back as he hears her perfect voice in his ear] Fuck, babe. [His dick throbs as he kisses her jaw and neck] Hm.. I’m not going to see the rest of the outfits, am I?

Jasmine: [Tilts her head back as she exposes her flesh to his lips, wanting to bathe in his kisses. She laughs softly as she grips his face] Do you want to keep seeing them, baby?

Xander: [Licks his lips] I like watching you perform for me. [Tilts his head as he eyes her darkly]

Jasmine: [Licks his lips as she pulls back to make him chase after her tongue] I’ll be right back. [Disappears behind the curtain as she changed into a silk black dress that reveals her cleavage and her thigh] Thoughts, baby? [Plays some of his music, swaying her hips to it in front of the mirror, but keeps her eyes on his reflection]

Xander: [Groans as she teases him but he loves it so much] Jesus. [Bites his lip as he sees her] You look stunning.. powerful. [Knows she can see him in the mirror as his eyes devour her body all up] God, you are a fucking vision. I love you in black.

Jasmine: [Saunters to him in the outfit, loving his words and how he eyes her in such a hungered way] Since you’re coming on tour with me.. you can help me warm up before every show. [Turns around and sits on his lap, rubbing her thick ass on him] I love feeling you against me, baby. [Leans back as she tilts his chin to face her, kissing the corner of his mouth] I’m happy you’re coming with me.

Xander: [Laughs at her words as he welcomes her onto his lap] Oh baby I can’t have you damaging your voice with all that screaming now, can I? [Grins, returning her kiss] Me too. [Looks up at her] I’m excited. I’m choosing the European leg. [Chuckles] I want to see Paris with you.

Jasmine: Filthy. [Hearing him speak that way arouses her but she holds off for a bit] That’s romantic. [Gazes up at him, feeling enamored with him] We can explore places together. Just the two of us. [Whispers softly against his lips] My everything. [Makes him wrap his arms around her as she silently thinks of songs in her head]

Xander: [Beams] Your fans are gonna hate me for ruining your music. No more moody heartbreak songs.. just love songs. [Teases her as he holds her tightly] When are you going to collab with me? [Pouts]

Jasmine: [Laughs at his words, showing off a dimple that only seems to come out for him] Mm. As long as there’s some sex in the lyrics I’m sure they’ll be happy. [Grins as she nuzzles his neck before eyeing that pout of his] You’d want that with me? [Bites her lip as the idea seems special to her] What would your partner say?

Xander: [Laughs] Lots of sex songs.. I’m happy to be of assistance. [Bites his lip as he eyes her mischievously] Of course? You’re one of the greatest song writers around. [Tells her honestly] Nothing? I’ve written with others before. [Shrugs] I’ve never sung with anyone but Ana.

Jasmine: Nasty boy. [Shakes her head as she tries not to laugh, playfully spanking his thigh. She blushes as he compliments her, not at all thinking that she’s the best out there] Stop, baby. I’m not that good. [Speaks truthfully about herself before biting her lower lip] If it’s not a problem for your band, then I would love for our minds to come together. [Murmurs against his lips as she takes his hand in hers]

Xander: You are /so/ fucking good. Are you crazy? [Tilts his head as he makes her look at him. He takes her hand] I’m excited to make some music with you. My talented little goddess. [Wrinkles his nose] I was a fan a long time before I met you.

Jasmine: [Licks her lips as he showers her with compliments. She feels as if he’s the only one that can make her feel calm—as if he can see into her soul] I love it when you call me that. [Kisses his nose as she eyes him darkly] Which were you attracted to first: my music or my body? [Takes his hand and makes him grip her breast before laughing softly]

Xander: Your music. I had no idea what you looked like when I heard your first record. [Tells her, gripping her breast anyway] But when I saw you.. ugh.. I thought you were just.. enigmatic. [Shakes his head] I’m fucking captivated by you, Jas.

Jasmine: [His seductively low voice is practically hypnotizing as she listens to him. She moans as he squeezes her breast while getting lost in his words] Baby, you see me so clearly.. [Whispers lowly, straddling him again as her feelings run deep] If you go on this tour with me I don’t think I’ll be able to give you back.

Xander: [Laughs] The second leg is going to suck. I’m going to take such good care of you, baby. [Kisses her deeply]

#c: fiction #type: fluff #xander and jasmine #otp: backstage love affair

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