Tumgik
#i should be by tomorrow or sumthin
boowhumps · 6 months
Text
Whumpril 2024
Day 6 - Dizziness
⚠TW⚠
- Swearing
- Mentions of Alcohol
- Mentions of Drugs
- Mentions of SA
- Mentions of Prostitution (kinda ig)
Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~
The streets were bustling with life, bright lights flashing as the city refused to sleep.
In the midst of it all, there was them, hidden amongst the plain folk. Blending in so perfectly that you would even spare a second glance at them.
They weren't on any important mission at the moment, more like just looking for a place to have some fun and kill time.
The group of seven individuals walked together, fake ID's ready to help them blend in.
In the back of the group, Amne and Silas walked side by side. Occasionally, their arms would rub up against each other, but neither said anything.
They never did. Amne and Silas would die before admitting that there was something between them. Most people wrote it down to them being friend with benefits, but it was clear that the 'friends' bit wasn't there.
Passing by the local businesses, Amne's eyes wandered. She couldn't help but be amazed at how similar everything still looked. It felt as if she had been gone from the overworld for years, but since time went faster in Celestial, she couldn't be sure how long it had actually been.
Regardless, she kept her head down. She didn't want to risk another incident. She had already been recognized once, an issue that was now solved, but she couldn't risk it again.
The situation left her in a panic, which then turned to a daze. She wanted nothing more than to drown her sorrows in a bottle of tequila, but she had to convince Silas first.
He hadn't left her side since the encounter. If Amne had to guess, he was probably freaked out by her sudden panic attack, considering that she had to explain to him how to calm her down while trying to calm herself down, but now she had him stuck to her like a leech.
A cute leech, but a leech nonetheless.
As the group was about to pass by another bar, Amne tugged on Silas' arm to get his attention.
He immediately perks up. "Yeah.?" He asks.
Amne points to the bar. "I need a drink, you up for it?"
Silas frowns. "You never told me you were a drinker.."
"Must have not come up in conversation then." Amne says. "C'mon, it'll be quick."
Silas looks over to the rest of the group, who seem to have finally agreed on a place to hang out at.
"Should we let them know.?" Silas asks.
Amne shrugs. "Your call, I'll be at the bar." She says before walking away.
Deep inside, a part of her feels like shit for being so dull, but the encounter left her feeling drained.. numb even..
She didn't like feeling numb, it was too harsh of a reminder of who she once was..
However, no numbness can't be fixed with a strong drink, so Amne goes off into the busy-ish bar. She won't drink too much, just enough to get a bit buzzed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Silas walks up to the group, shuffling awkwardly.
"Hey uh, Lua.?" Silas mumbles.
Lua turns. "What's up?"
Silas rubs the back of his neck. "Amne kinda.. ditched and went into a bar.. said she-"
"-needs a drink? Yeah, I figured she would." Lua says, annoyed. "Did you want to join her?"
"I mean, yeah, not to drink, just to keep an eye on her." Silas states clearly.
Lua hums. "Then go on, just don't get into trouble and keep a low profile."
Silas nods. "Right, I'll let Amne know." He replies before walking off to join Amne.
Lua sighs as Freyja shuffles next to her.
"Amne is not.. OK.?" She asks, looking uncertain.
Lua looks over to her. "I never know with her.."
~~~~~~~~~~
The bar is lively, just about as much as Silas expected. Friday nights were expected to be crazy, but Silas imagined that people had other things to do than go drinking at almost midnight.
His eyes scanned the room, locating Amne sitting at the bar. He quickly made his way over to her, taking a seat as Amne started on her first drink.
"Anything I can get for you, sir?" The bartender asks suddenly.
Silas is about to answer when Amne perks up.
"He doesn't drink." She responds.
The bartender nods, and goes to serve other people.
Silas sighs. "..so.. you okay.?"
Amne looks over to him, confused. "Why wouldn't I be.?"
"I mean, you've been.. odd since the incident." Silas mumbles. "Like.. blank."
Amne looks down at her drink. "Is it freaking you out.?"
Silas shakes his head quickly. "No, of course not, I'm just-.." He stops. "Worried, just.. worried."
Amne hums. "Well don't be, I'll be fine after a couple drinks."
Silas frowns. "This isn't healthy, you know?"
"I'm well aware." Amne mumbles.
Silas looks away. "Is this really how you cope?"
"Do you have any better suggestions?" Amne asks coldly.
"I mean.. you could.. talk to me about it?" Silas suggests.
Amne looks at him, then sighs. "I wouldn't want to burden you.."
"You wouldn't be! Trust me, it.. might help a bit.." Silas replies with a soft smile.
Amne starts on her second drink. "Well.. where do I start..?"
"Maybe with, what happened earlier.?" Silas suggests.
Amne nods. "Right, well.."
~~~~~~~~~~
A few words and rounds of drinks later, Amne was wasted. Even with all the things she finally spilled, things even Silas never expected, she was now acting like everything was fine, whether that be by choice or not.
It was now almost 2 am, and Amne showed zero signs of exhaustion, as well as zero signs that she was done drinking.
Silas ended up ordering her water, hoping to sober her up enough so they could get out of here without making a scene, but Amne was so.. cheerful that it wasn't going to be so easy.
"Silas~" Amne laughs, throwing her arms around him. "C'mon, just a few more drinks!"
Silas hums. "At this rate, your heart will stop if I let you drink more."
"And would that be so bad~?" Amne hums, her face getting closer to his.
"Yes, it would." Silas says. "I want to keep you around, believe it or not."
"For what purpose.?" Amne asks. "For my body~?"
Silas gives her a look. "What are you rambling around?"
"You wouldn't be the first guy to pay me for.. services~" Amne purrs. "Nor the last.."
Silas sighs. "Yeah no, it's time to go."
Amne pouts. "No, let's have fun!"
"Amne, you are so wasted that you seem genuinely happy, it's time to head home." Silas says sternly, pushing Amne towards the exit.
Amne tries to push against him "Don't be a party pooper, just let me go!"
Silas rolls his eyes as he guides Amne home, trying to avoid the stares she's getting.
~~~~~~~~~~
Silas falls back onto the couch next to Lua, exhaustion finally hitting him like a ton of bricks.
Lua glances over at him from their phone. "Is the psycho finally out?"
Silas groans. "Firstly, enough with that nickname, and secondly, yes, she is."
Lua hums. "It's surprising how giddy she is when she's drunk, I wonder if that moment of happiness is worth the hell of a hangover she's gonna have tomorrow."
Silas rubs the tiredness from his eyes. "Hopefully she's fine tomorrow.." He then sighs. "..Something happened at the bar."
Lua turns off their phone, turning to face Silas. "What do you mean?"
Silas breathes deeply. "I shouldn't tell you this.. but it's important."
Lua gives him a look. "Then spill it."
"It's about Silva.. the possession.. all of that." He says.
"There can't be more to what we already know, Silas." Lua mumbles.
Silas crosses his arms. "I thought so too, but.. she told me something.."
Lua hums, waiting for Silas to continue.
"Amne.. or, Karyme.." Silas starts. "Fuck, Lua.."
"She wasn't ever not possessed."
~~~~~~~~~~
2 notes · View notes
chrissdollie · 4 months
Note
Chris would totally not being to kiss ur neck without leaving hickeys. Like imagine how tht would go down
“Chris! You gave me so many hickeys I have a meeting tomorrow “
୨୧。‧˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚‧。♡₊˚
sweet innocent gentle kisses turn into him sloppily sucking dark bites into your flesh. he licks the bruises after his teeth dig into your skin, but you don't make any move to push him away-- even though you should. "baby.. i have to go to a meeting t'morrow.." you breathe out, combing your fingers thru his hair. he mumbles against your throat, "cover 'em up with makeup or sumthin.." while you feel his words vibrate against your neck, tickling you just slightly. you give in, leaving it alone, pushing his face further onto you.
151 notes · View notes
another-identityofmine · 10 months
Text
•Perfect American Family•
Tumblr media
Summary: The Colonel tries to host a family friendly interview, wanting to capture the Presleys as the “Perfect American Family.” It becomes utter chaos, from boyish ugly shorts, to a broken little piggy toe.
Major notes: Reader and Elvis have made a family of 3. Children of the dear couple are Aaron Jesse, Rosemary, and Jackson (pronounced “jag-sin” tho) Aaron is 15, Rosemary is 13, and Jackson’s 11
Warnings: the colonel, ugly clothes, stereotypical American family through the colonel’s eyes, yelling, throwing things, running amok, and injury to a baby toe.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“What’s wrong with our image now?” Y/N raised her brows and look up at the colonel, back at Elvis.
“Oh nothing, nothing, nothing! It’s absolutely extravagant! But I just want America to see how extravagant your family is. Mr Presley?” Colonel puffed his words out in a quick, puff of smoke, then turning to Elvis for a little help.
Elvis nods and glances over at Y/N, “Yeah hun, we just sit on down, talk a little, and show how wonderful You, the babes, and I are. It’s all there is.” He smiles a warm reassuring one and walks over to the colonel, squeezing his shoulder.
“Exactly, all that America needs to know is that you are a perfect, normal, human family.” The colonel nods, waving his fat hand about, that wedges a thick cigarette between.
Elvis laughs and nods over to him, putting up his hands reassuringly, “trust me, we are a perfectly normal family. What else would we be.” He snickers and looks over at me, and I just shrug and hum, “mhm.”
“Oh, and they’ll be coming over here.” Th e colonel perks up over his shoulder. I raise a brow and clear my throat. “Oh? A-and what should we wear?” I ask in genuine curiosity and confusion.
The colonel nods and pats Elvis’ shoulder, “my boy, tell your woman there is nothing to hover over about. I have that all planned out. Just be ready for tomorrow. I’ll take care of everything.” With that, the colonel disappears into thin air just as the vampire he is.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Before you know it, you are all propped onto the living room couch with sour faces that cannot be mistaken. Youre standing behind the couch with Elvis, with Aaron and Rosemary sitting on top of. Everyone all seems pissed, waiting and steaming. You’re wearing a tacky pink skirt that goes to your ankles, and a white apron tied tightly behind, with your hair pinned up, also being assigned to hold a spatula. Aaron huffs in his red jersey and game uniform, holding a foot ball in his arms with his hair slicked back too neatly for his own damn liking, looking like some know-it-all-jock. Rosemary, seems pretty flattered, wearing a blue dress with white gloves and her hair in her shoulders, curled neatly. Let’s not forget Mr. Presley behind you, huffing and puffing with the ridiculous outfit chosen out. He stands besides you wearing a black suit, his hair tucked tightly and neatly under a dressy hat. But then again, where’s Jackson?
Finally the camera people walk in, along with the colonel. While the interviewers seat themselves and prop up their equipment, Colonel walks over with a huge and impressed smile, holding his arms out. “My, my, I couldn’t even recognize any of you. ‘Specially Aaron.” Colonel grins, and Aaron frowns up.
“Colonel, My damn family and I don’t wear this on a daily basis. What are you tryna put us up for? A-a damn doll set or sumthin? It looks like I’m going to a funeral while my family looks like they’re dolls to a toy set!” Elvis huffs out, and you and the kids know definitely to set back.
“Elvis, calm down. I am only trying to promote the “Presleys” as America’s idol family is all” The colonel speaks out in a rush. Elvis snaps back and shakes his head, “we look like crackies off the damn streets!-“ The colonel immediately claps his hands and ignores Elvis’ complaints, finding a new subject to escape to. “Uh, Where’s your boy Jackson? The camera’s are to roll, and if I recall correctly, I remember you had two sons.” The colonel tries to laugh off, but closes his lips and looks to the camera people.
“Aaron, grab your brother please. It is not time for any nonsense.” You whisper down to your eldest son who immediately gets up and runs upstairs to grab him. While that, the interview starts. A couple hello’s and small basic questions pass, Elvis answering with a frustrated and embarrassed tone but keeping piloted.
Then you hear the rumbling and tumbling, Elvis pays no mind, just wanting to get this over with while Rosemary and you look to the stairs. Jackson running around, shrieking while Aaron tries to catch up.
“Mama! Daddy! Look at these shorts! I am not wearing this!” Jackson screams about, Aaron rolls his eyes and seats back with us. While Rosemary and I shake our heads and whisper yell, “Jackson, sit your behind down!”
“No! Look at this!” Jackson makes a mess anywhere he goes, then running in front of the cameras. Elvis takes action and yells, “Jackson sit your ass down!” Elvis and Jackson then go about, taking turns complaining about their clothes and screaming at eachother. The cameras only watch with smirks and snickers, while Rosemary rushes to yours side and tries to smile and save the day.
“How about let’s make some all American-pie?” She smiles a crooked-smile, and I nod along. Then Jackson steps on a reporter’s baby toe, gasps and screams only adding to the chaos and noise. The colonel only watches with wide eyes and fleets the scene, his cane wobbly in hand.
You groan and hug Rosemary to your side, watching Elvis tug at his suit and scold at Jackson, while Aaron stomps and throws a near tantrum like a little boy.
This will be a huge mess to clean
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Author’s note: Imma be honest, this was rushed…and I’m not proud. It looked way better in my head (like most of my works do) oh goodness. But I just wanted to get this blurb out. I’m trying to clean my drafts before Christmas 💀
31 notes · View notes
huitzilinthebudgie3 · 2 years
Text
I like when it Rains
Rating : Mature
Pairing : Khonshu x Reader , Jake x Reader
Summary : Khonshu is an ass but , he finally meets his match with Stevens neighbor . Y/n also meets her neighbor and his ghost .
Note : Merry Late Christmas !! And Happy New Year !! Sorry for the Hiatus guys with Unrequited Love . Aside from Personal reasons , It will probably be put hiatus for a while . I'll be trying some other stories as well as posting a few drafts for a few fandoms that i love and What i have of The New Chapter (Unrequited Love) as a Half Chapter before the end . This one has been in the drafts for a while , so enjoy some Khonshu and Reader sass lol . And like always let me know if you like it 😊
Tumblr media
The pure shock of the moment hits , the anxiety of this very second . The emotions that shoot through your mind like lightning as it raced down the nape of your next to the very tips of your toes . As it spurred a surge of pure dread and  resentment through your heart . 
Y/n was in that very position as she glared at her exam that read 5% on a quiz , she'd studied night , day and now rain for . Her chest squeezed painfully tight as she fought the slew of tears pricking her eyes . However she'd yet to see the being that was disturbed by such a loud and careless flair of emotion being shared emphatically .
------------------------------------
It jumped in surprise before appearing beside this human , it seemed to be in despair as it sobbed silently.  It thought silently to itself as the human panicked so drastically.  Before he poked his beak in its direction before noting it tensed briefly before grunting .
Wiping at its tears from its sad little face , reminded him of the mannerisms a mouse would  use to groom itself.  He moved closer intrigued by the creature , observing the intricate tattoo that spanned from their elbow to their collar and then their shoulder blade under their clothing . The woman however stood up suddenly and trudged toward their mattress. Unlike the worm's intricate sleep ritual , she only stared up at the moon offering a sad smile "I tried , I gave it my all . Why does it feel so…" her voice cracked and tears gathered in their eyes as she rubbed them roughly.  
He observed her eyes as they stared silently at the moon "You always see me at my worst moon . Must be bad luck , hmm ? Always heard the moon was bad luck" she said under her breath before he decided to let her have the pleasure of seeing her easily''The moon isn't as bad as you think, mouse !" The human turned to him and peered into his gaze as he squirmed at another being staring and trying to gauge his own reaction "Fuck , i need some sleep ! You're gonna tell me that I'm special and some bullshit and try to get my soul or sumthin' ?" The skeletal bird glared indignantly …. well as much as a skeletal bird could "How dare you-" he started "-Listen , Skeletor . I don't know you and could give a shit . Go back to wherever you spawned from "  she sighed tiredly before turning over and promptly passing out .
Note : Should have chapter 1 up later or tomorrow.
138 notes · View notes
nicomundthered · 1 year
Text
A Tale of Two Animals
pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
warnings: quarantining, tooth rotting fluff at least by my standards.
summary: from the prompt- Modern au, where Arthur and reader are self quarantining with each other, and reader catches Arthur playing on her animal crossing island.
word count: 1,899
a/n: I've never played AC. I know nothing, repost from ao3.
Masterlist 
Admittedly, self quarantining hadn't been that bad of an experience for you. In fact, it made you feel more than a little guilty. That while you were cooking meals, binging Netflix, and cuddling with the love of your life. People were sick, losing their jobs, and even dying.
But the way the two of you were living, It was your idea of paradise...that was until the both of you cleared out your Netflix queue.
Then things got a little rough. Arthur was a man of action, and not having anything to do had made him stir crazy. He was quicker to argue, and sometimes he’d say things without fully thinking them through.
He would always apologize profusely, even when it wasn’t necessary. You knew him, and knew that this was really hard on him. Besides, he never hurt you the way he always assumed he did. He was too hard on himself.
One time it was a little argument over a mug you loved. He had put in the dishwasher, when you’d always carefully hand wash the item.
He’d called it a ‘stupid mug’, and you, being locked up and slightly stir crazy yourself, started to tear up. He apologized on and off for the next hour, and promised to do the dishes for the next month.
A promise that so far he’d fulfilled.
Then you made the grave mistake, one that you’d regret for the next TEN days, you turned it to a local PBS station and got Arthur obsessed with a damn ten-part horse documentary.
They were an hour and forty five minutes a piece. And it wasn’t really that the footage was so boring, it was the narration. The man’s voice was calming, almost too calming, and would put you to sleep within minutes. You’d awake to the sound of the man's voice only to find Arthur still enthralled.
Which, all of this didn’t sound like a big deal, but it threw off your sleep schedule. And when you're stuck inside, with nothing to watch, sleep becomes something you really looked forward to.
And so, it became his nightly ritual to eat his dinner, wash all the dishes, put on his oversized comfy lounge pants, and sprawl out on the couch to watch another episode of the documentary.
On the fourth night of the documentary you had reached your limit. You just could not take one more second of his old monotone voice, and you searched the internet for something to entertain you...or rather something that you could buy, you should say.
It was then you came upon the new Animal Crossing game. You had played it when you were younger and really enjoyed it, so without overthinking it you added it to your cart, paid a little extra for overnight shipping (you desperately needed it before tomorrow night), and purchased it.
After making sure you received your email receipt, you stood from the couch, stretched a little, and kissed Arthur on the top of his head.
He tore his eyes from the television and looked up at you. “You goin’ to bed so early?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling a little tired.”
He moved to stand but you gently pushed him back down. “Finish your show.” You bent down and kissed him lovingly on the mouth.
“I can pause it and save it for tomorrow.” His eyes twinkled with mischief and any other night you would have pulled him to the bedroom, but you were NOT prolonging your torture for another night.
“No! I mean no, I don’t really feel well. Kinda got a headache.”
He frowned and reached up to feel your forehead. “You need me to run to the store to get ya sumthin’?”
You smiled. “No, I’m fine, really just need some sleep.” You yawned trying to convince him.
You were apparently an ok actor. “Well alright. You let me know if ain’t feelin’ good sweetheart.”
“I will, I promise.”
When he nodded satisfied with your answer, and pressed play, you almost ran to your bedroom.
The next day you spent not so patiently waiting for your package. Just after you put away the sandwich stuff that you used to prepare lunch, you got the notification that it was delivered.
You ran to the door almost dropping your phone, and retrieved your small box. You ripped through the packaging and waited for it to load on your switch.
And just as Timmy and Tommy were welcoming you to the game, Arthur walked in hair wet and slicked back, wearing nothing but a towel. He smelled fresh and amazing, just as he always did.
“I thought I heard the door slam.”
“You did, it’s fine. I just got a package.” You didn’t look up as you were reading the instructions on the small screen. To be honest you didn’t want to get distracted, and before you was one hell of one.
He frightened you a little as he bent over you curious as to what you were doing.
“It’s just a little game that I wanted to play. Figured it would be a great time since I’m stuck here.”
Taking one look at the graphics you could tell he wanted to make fun of you by the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times.
You decided to stop him short, not wanting another stupid argument. “I played it when I was a kid. It's super nostalgic for me.”
His nod was one of understanding and thanks, glad that he didn’t start something from nothing.
And that’s the last you really paid attention to anything for hours, until he brought you a plate of hot tacos.
You looked up red eyed and confused. “What time is it?” You looked around for your phone.
He handed it to you and chuckled. “Goin’ on eight. Thought you might be hungry.”
You gave a playful pout as your stomach growled smelling the delicious looking food.
“Game must be really good.”
You nodded with a mouthful of taco. A little embarrassed that you ate half of it in one bite. But happy that he knew exactly how you liked yours prepared.
“What’s it about?”
You swallowed. “Eh, nothing really. You just kind of build things and help friends out”.
“Oh well, I’m glad you're having fun.” He said without any malice.
“Gosh Arthur these tacos are amazing.” You took another large bite.
He chuckled lightly “It’s like you say, things always taste better when you don’t make them.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t help. I know it’s been our thing since...”
He raised his hand in dismissal. “You cook all the time for me. It is the least I could do for you. ‘Sides you looked like you were really having a good time.”
Your face flushed slightly. Had he been watching you? You knew you did that thing where you bit your bottom lip when you concentrated. It made you a little self conscious, but he would have none of that.
“You sure are beautiful, you know that?” He gently moved a piece of hair from your forehead.
“Arthur…”
“I mean it. You’re absolutely perfect. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.” He shook his head in amazement.
You were at a loss for words so you replied with the only thing you knew he needed to hear. “I love you so much Arthur.”
He reached down and kissed you hard. Sometimes words weren’t enough for him. He was after all, a man of action.
Things were getting heated, your tacos forgotten, when an alarm started blaring.
You looked at him in a daze and giggled softly. “It’s time for your program.”
He slowly opened his eyes and sighed. “Yep.”
He stared at you looking drugged by your beauty.
You smacked his arm playfully. “Watch your ponies.”
That sobbered him up. “They ain’t ‘ponies’ they are stallions and mustangs, and..”
“I’m joking.” You cut him short saving his lecture for later you were sure. “Hurry you're going to miss some of it.”
He turned the TV on, and you excitedly picked your game back up. So focused on it, you never heard a word the boring old man said.
It was late. Real late. You hadn’t played a game through the night since you were in high school. But as you admired your island, you felt that it was worth it.
You looked to the otherside of the couch and saw that Arthur hadn’t wanted to leave you. He was sprawled out breathing heavily, obviously deep in sleep.
The sun was rising and you thought it a better idea just to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyhow. You plugged your game in to charge and went to get a couple hours of sleep.
It was around lunch time when you awoke. You hated sleeping in but then again, where did you have to be?
After showering, and brushing your hair and teeth, you groggily made your way to make some coffee.
When you entered the hallway you heard your game. Worried that you had left it on you hurriedly entered the room, and to your surprise, were met with the sight of Arthur, brows furrowed, deep in concentration playing your game.
You smiled wickedly at the sight and cleared your throat loudly.
He jumped like he had just been shot and placed your game quickly on the coffee table. “Oh god! You scared me.” He placed his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.
You walked over to him slowly, hands on your hips, and tried your best to look angry. “Now what were you just doin’?”
“I, I…”
“You what?”
“I was just curious is all.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair.
“Curious?”
“Well, yeah. You were havin’ so much fun, I just wanted to see what it was about. Ya know?”
His voice sounded so innocent and his eyes looked so wide from shock. Arthur Morgan wasn't used to getting caught.
You really shouldn't do it but you couldn't help it, you started laughing. So hard that you actually had to bend over.
He stood up placing his hands on his hips. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up from all angles, and he actually attempted to look at you seriously.
Which, of course, made you laugh harder. So hard that tears started streaming down your face. There was something about this large, handsome, intimidating man, sneaking your switch and waiting until you were asleep to play Animal Crossing. And then getting caught all while being extremely embarrassed about it.
Either he finally started to see the humor in it, or perhaps he got joy out of seeing you so happy, he too started to laugh.
He walked to you and hugged you tightly, then playfully threw you onto the couch. Neither of you stopped laughing for a while, not until your sides were splitting and you could take no more.
He nuzzled your neck. “I’m real sorry I played your game without permission.”
You briefly chuckled while stroking his muscular arm. “No you're not.” You whispered back.
“Alright, I’m sorry that I got caught.”
You both kept laughing until, still tired from the previous night, you fell asleep in each other's arms.
A loud alarm woke you both. You snatched his phone from the side table mercifully stopping the noise.
He mumbled. “Don’t worry it's recording.”
You sighed heavily.
--------------
49 notes · View notes
bunnywand · 1 year
Text
complete(?) gorillaz phase 1 rarities, remixes and unreleased songs
i've been a massive fan of gorillaz ever since i was like, 8, and i've always been especially interested in their rarer songs.. but information about them can be kind of difficult to come by 😔
gorillaz for beginners is an Excellent website, and where i got a lot of this info from.. but it also doesn't include some of their more obscure songs. the gorillaz fandom wiki includes a lot more of their niche stuff.. but it's also a nightmare to navigate, and some of the pages are kind of poorly written 😅
so i thought i'd take it upon myself to compile a list of every rare phase 1 song i'm aware of, in chronological order where possible, and including the releases they originally came from!!
i've excluded songs that were released on their debut album, g sides, laika come home, and in the 20th anniversary super deluxe box, so this should be a round-up of everything not on those.. but be warned, even without the songs released on those, it's still a Very long list.. 😳
latin simone (english version): first off, an english version of "latin simone (¿que pasa contigo?)" from gorillaz' debut album sung by damon albarn, that appeared on the original "tomorrow comes today" ep. released november 2000.
clint eastwood (single version): a version of "clint eastwood" with a slightly extended outro, from the "clint eastwood" single. released march 2001.
slow country (curtis lynch jr. remix) / tomorrow comes today (carl h. remix) [aka "middle row remix"]: remixes of "slow country" and "tomorrow comes today" released on a promotional "clint eastwood" 12". presumably released around march 2001.
dub dumb: a track featuring sweetie irie from the ps2 game "mtv music generator 2." the game was released in may 2001, but the song has never been released outside of it.
let's get dirty (i can't get in da club) [gorillaz remix]: a remix by gorillaz of a song by redman, released both as a b-side to redman's "smash sumthin'" single and by itself as a promotion release. these releases also have extended and instrumental versions. released june 2001.
19-2000 (the wiseguys house of wisdom remix): a "19-2000" remix released as a b-side to the "19-2000" single, it was also released on the original versions of the us and brazilian "g sides" albums. released june 2001.
clint eastwood (ed case & sweetie irie refix alternate version): an alternate, sped-up version of ed case's "clint eastwood" refix, found only on his "sound of the pirates 2" mixtape. released july/august 2001.
l’amour est un oiseau rebelle (gorillaz remix): a remix of a song from the opera "carmen" made for a contest that was part of mtv's 2001 video music awards. released on mtv's website in september 2001.
the sounder: the full version of "the sounder" from "g sides," only released on certain editions of the "rock the house" single and a french sampler for gorillaz debut album. released october 2001.
911: a track featuring terry hall and D12, recorded the day after the 9/11 attacks and released as a single. the single also included clean and shortened clean versions. released december 2001 - a live version from february 2002 was also released on spotify in november 2011.
don quixote's christmas bonanza: a track recorded for a compilation album, "kevin & bean present swallow my eggnog." there also exists a slightly longer version of the track, from a different compilation album released around the same time, "air futures (modern rock december 2001)." released december 2001.
latin simone (vivir mata soundtrack version): an extended version of "latin simone" featuring both damon's english vocals and ibrahim ferrer's spanish vocals, from the soundtrack of the film "vivir mata." released january 2002.
19-2000 (ben brown's ukfunk.com remix): a remix of "19-2000" from the compilation album "the remiXFM." released february 2002.
film music / tomorrow dub / film music (mode remix): b-sides from the 2002 re-release of the "tomorrow comes today" single. "tomorrow dub" is actually an early version of "bañana baby" from spacemonkeyz' "laika come home" remix album. released february 2002.
19-2000 (darren mix) [aka "spacemonkeyz mix"]: an early version of "jungle fresh" from spacemonkeyz' "laika come home" remix album, released on gorillaz website and as a limited promotion acetate. i'm not sure when this was actually released, but seeing as it's supposed to be the 2nd gorillaz remix spacemonkeyz did, it must have been sometime after "tomorrow dub" was released, but before "laika come home" came out.
gorillaz on my mind: a remix of "19-2000" featuring redman, from the "blade ii" soundtrack. released march 2002.
lil' dub chefin' (radio edit) / spacemonkeyz theme: songs from spacemonkeyz' "lil' dub chefin'" single. released july 2002.
small time shot away: a massive attack song featuring damon albarn doing vocals credited as "2-D." released february 2003 on massive attack's album, "100th window."
FM: a nathan haines song also featuring damon albarn providing vocals as "2-D." released september 2003 on nathan haines' album, "squire for hire."
clint eastwood (live): a live version of "clint eastwood" from gorillaz' 2002 us tour, featuring the last emperor. not released until october 2009, when it was released on the last emperor's mixtape "science team... go!"
starshine (phi life cypher version): the original version of "starshine" from gorillaz' debut album, featuring phi life cypher. presumably recorded in 2000 with the rest of the album, it was not released until march 2011, when phi life cypher released it on their bandcamp page.
so as far as i know, that's it for songs that have been officially released in one way or another at some point!! but there are also several songs that still haven't seen an actual release in any form, starting with tracks that were found on gorillaz phase 1 website:
a1m1 (ruff mix): an early, instrumental version of "m1 a1"
exhumation vox: short track of noodle's isolated vocals from "left hand suzuki method" - "exhumation" was an early title for the track
faust vox: similarly, a track of just the vocals from "rock the house" b-side, "faust"
gor beaten: a short, instrumental song that could be compiled by finding the stems for it on each of the gorillaz' character's computers
punk jam: an slightly different, instrumental version of "punk"
rock the house (beat box bandit remix): a remix of "rock the house"
sound check (acoustic): an acoustic snippet of "sound check (gravity)"
and aside from those, there are also several other unreleased songs too:
celebrity take down theme: atmospheric, instrumental music from the opening sequence of the "celebrity take down" dvd. the track on the dvd is overlayed with sound effects, and i'm not sure the music on it's own has ever surfaced.
g-bitez theme: the theme from the animated "g-bitez" shorts, that has never been released outside of them.
lonely man (kid koala remix) [aka "gorillaz routine"]: one of the most infamous unreleased gorillaz songs, it's actually a remix by kid koala of an unreleased dan the automator track, featuring gorillaz. from what i can gather, the original dan the automator track was supposed to be released in 2002 on his album "omakase" ..but the album never came to be, and as of 2023, the album and any version of this song still remain officially unreleased.
and as far as i'm aware at the moment, that's every song from gorillaz phase 1 that isn't featured on any of their main releases!! some of these i've known about for years, and some i only found out about recently, so there's a chance there's still stuff i've missed 😅
but hopefully this is at the very least an almost complete list of rare phase 1 songs, so i hope someone can find this helpful, or at least interesting to read!! ☺️
3 notes · View notes
2-cute-4-school · 4 years
Text
𝚗𝚌𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚜
requested by anonie:  hi if you’re taking requests could you do an NCT Dream reaction to you crying while studying for exams because you’re stressed? thank you !
Tumblr media
Mark Lee
my boi understands the STRESS
he debuted like 6 times and he has more comebacks and schedules than he can count bby is so overworked sometimes  °(ಗдಗ。)
i think you’re probably each other’s safe places
whenever mark catches sight of you he just buries himself in your arms and all his stress and worries melt away as he breathes in your familiar scent (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.
your hugs? his best medicine
so when he finds you trying to muffle your cries in your hands, hunched over open textbooks, a mess of pens and littered papers around you
his heart breaks just a lil (*>_<*)
why didn’t you come to him?? or at least call him??? don’t you trust him?? is he part of the reason of your tears???? what if-
“mark?” ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶
but as your meek voice calls for him he decides that questions can wait
you are his one and only priority
he dashes to your side and engulfs you in his arms─=≡Σ(づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
“it’s okay baby, you’ll be fine, i’m here, i’m with you”
you just hide your face in his chest and allow yourself to break into sobs that wrench mark’s poor lil heart while mark caresses your back and head
“just let it all out baby, i’m right here, i’ll always be here”(๑´•д • `๑)
he keeps murmuring comforting words as you slowly run out of tears
once you calm down enough to explain the reason of your breakdown to him, he just presses a kiss to your forehead ლ(´﹏`ლ)
“how about you take a rest for tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow and i’ll find a way to help you through this, hm? does that sound good?”
you make him promise he’ll stay with you for this night he has no objections (ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡
he ends up playing his guitar for you with your head on his lap asfdsfksf until you fall asleep and then spoons you after tucking you in
his softness for you doesn’t prevent him from having a serious discussion with you to make sure you know you can always come to him for anything and then ends up helping you study might end up asking for help as well _(T-T*)
Huang Renjun
this boi seems really chill while at home
so i’d say that he mostly minds his business if you’re busy with school work like he’s probably in a corner painting or sumthin’ the lil artsy fairy that he is (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*
he does check up on you from time to time to make sure that you’re... you know... alive and breathing?? lol fun times huh
but still, silent comfort IS your love language ∩(︶▽︶)∩
so he kinda assumes that you ALREADY know he’s there for you at any time anywhere in any way you may ever need him
so when he hears a muffled sob from behind the door you’re studying in?
his heart BREAKS ꒰๑˃͈꒳˂͈๑꒱ノ*゙̥
but he also doesn’t want to stress you out even more or scare you so he slowly enters the room to find you hunched over your desk
he hesitates for a moment as his chest just clenches in hurt while he watches your shoulders shake with muffled whimpers ˓˓(ᑊᘩᑊ⁎)
so he walks up to you and lays a gentle hand on your shoulder
he waited for a moment to make sure that you’re comfortable with his presence in such vulnerable moments
and the he just ENGULFS you in a firm embrace and you FINALLY get the chance to ground yourself as you let out all of the pent up frustration in the arms of the person you trust the most (๑◕︵◕๑)
he just pats your head and you bury your face in his chest and you just ✨melt✨ into each other
i don’t think he’d say much tbh (´°ω°`)
there’s a silent mutual understanding that all you need right now is someone- him to lean on when you’re too tired to hold yourself upright
as you start calming down he presses a kiss to your head before speaking softly but firmly
“you’re taking a break, come on let’s eat and then we can have a lazy evening for once” ε-(‘ヘ´○)┓
“but-”
“oh we can finally try out the fluffy blanket we bought together last week”
he AIN’T TAKING NO FOR ANSWER!!! ( ̄ω ̄)
you spend the evening wrapped up in each other under your blanket with a forgotten movie playing in the background while renjun hums a lullaby’s tune in your ear
Lee Jeno
he has a sixth sense for you
you can’t get away WITH ANYTHING ¯\_༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽_/¯
you stub a toe: aw frick-
jeno, thousands of km away in the middle of rolling his hips into another dimension during practice: something’s wrong ಠ_ಠ
so i think he might notice even before you that you’re kinda breaching your limit
but ba(r)bie isn’t sure how to approach you without offending you since you’re kinda irritable because of the stress ofc he doesn’t blame you
so if he fails to stop you before your breakdown he’s gonna blame himself for sure tho so make sure to reassure him once you’re stable he’s gonna keep a VERY watchful eye over you ( ◉  〜 ◉ ) 
he’s 100% READY to be there for you!!!!!
he has fluffy blankets, your favourite sweets and snacks, your preferred take out place on speed dial in case you’re hungry AND your comfort show prepared  (•̀o•́)ง
what he isn’t prepared tho?
his OWN heart cracking at the sight of your pain and exhaustion (ಗдಗ) 
he LITERALLY CAN’T stop the small whine building up in his chest as he strides over to your side for support
so when you wrap yourself around him like a lil koala, trembling in his hold and muttering through tears that it’s just too much-
his ULTIMATE protectiveness kicks in FULL MODE (ಢ⊱ಢ 。)
he just scoops you up and burrito wraps you into the gigantic mound of blankets already prepared for you while pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead i promised i’d make it his trademark so here ;)
he *dashes* to bring over all of the snacks AND is already on the phone if you decided you wanted something to eat
basically bf jeno didn’t come to play ║ * ರ Ĺ̯ ರ * ║
spends the rest of the night literally PAMPERING you in anything you need
and most importantly... LOTS OF KITHES AND CUDDLES!!!!( *¯ ³¯*)♡
his baby deserves a chill and lovely night and he’s gonna provide exactly that and the absolute best for you :<
also jeno will gather all of his remaining braincells to help you the next of the day he really seems a smart kid in my opinion
Lee Donghyuck
hyuck is a LOVELY person don’t get me wrong (๑♡⌓♡๑)
but he’s also a tease so he might unintentionally push you to your limits with a few remarks
poor babe really didn’t realize you were going through it
so just imagine his panic once you just burst into tears after what should have been a harmless teasing from him (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)
“ba-babe? what happened, did i go too far?? i’m so sorry my love, i just-”
he keeps on rambling and you just cry even harder cuz come on hyuck is just such a thoughtful boyfriend
“i’m really sorry y/n, please don’t cry, i’ll do ANYTHING-” ٩(´Д` ;)۶
you try to explain to him that he’s not at fault for your breakdown
obviously it’s not really comprehensible but it’s enough for hyuck to understand once he hears the words ‘stress’ and ‘exhausted’
he simply embraces you as tight as he can and reassures you that humans have their own limits (っ⇀⑃↼)っ
and that taking a break doesn’t invalidate your hard work and dedication
he understands how overworking can affect a person so he knows how to handle the situation
he proposes taking a hot bath once you’ve calmed down and he adds extra bubbles and a really nice smelling body wash (╯✧∇✧)╯
and after that- YOU’RE ON BED REST!! no excuses
if you protest? you wouldn’t dare
stops you with kisses all over your face before fully shutting you up with a soft but firm kiss on your lips o┤*`3´*├o
you spend the entire rest of the day restrained in his hugs
you really scared him so he became a lil lot clingy 
need to go to the bathroom? he INSISTS to piggyback you there since ‘you need all the rest you can possibly get’ (∪。∪)。。。
but i reckon you can’t complain since you have the chance to spend some quality time with your also busy boyfriend
my boy will also go to the ends of the world in order to help you the next day to study whether that means burning his own brain or gathering half of nct and his manager to get everything done in time (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و
Na Jaemin
it’s literally NO SURPRISE when i say that he’s PROTECTIVEx1000000 of his loved ones (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
so why would you even bother to hide anything from him??
it’s LITERALLY no use
he’s a very very doting person and he keeps tabs on you no matter what, sometimes even uncounciously
and if he’s not there physically? NO PROBLEM!!
texts and calls between he two of you are a very common occurence bubs just wants to make sure you’re well and happy (˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
so unless you’re a top class at acting, good luck in trying to play off your stress and tiredness
but let’s say that due to busy schedules and different timetables it somehow gets past him
babe will be so heartbroken (๑´•д • `๑)
his worry topples over as he freezes in your doorway for a moment at the sight of your defeated form and tear-stained papers
BUT he does a good job in keeping his composure because he can’t risk letting his emotions get the best of him when you need him ( •̀ω•́ )
so he just trudges up to you and SMOTHERS you in the tightest hug possible, tucking your head in his shoulder so you could cry freely hidden away from the rest of the world
he coos a few words here and there, encouragements, compliments, reassurement that ‘you’re more than enough, you just need to take a moment to relax and breathe’ ✧˖°ˈ·*ε-(๑˃́ε˂̀๑ )
otherwise, he’ll leave the talk for the next day when you’re rested both physically AND mentally 
after you calm down he helps you put away all your school work you wouldn’t dare oppose him on this for the rest of the day
we all know what’s coming up i’m sorry
COMFORT FOOD!!!! (ノ^ヮ^)ノ*:・゚✧
he seats you on a kitchen stool while he cooks whatever you need at the moment, anything his baby wants
honestly he just adapts to whatever you need atm
cuddles in silence? works for him!! wanna ramble? there to listen!! want netflix and chill??? absolutely!!!!
Zhong Chenle
sooo from what i’ve gathered he’s not exactly emotional???
but also have you seen this absolute cutie when jisung was crying at the dream show?? babe was trying so hard to comfort his bff but he also seemed uh.. a bit awkward a bit? in a cute way tho!! (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)
but i do think he’ll falter once he catches sight of your state!!!!
so many mental debates too!! (๑′°︿°๑)
‘they’re hunched over, did they fall asleep? wait shaking?? is it cold in here????... fuck no was that a sob?? do i... do i go over to comfort them? but how like do i hug or do i talk or..? what if they break up with me??? shit what have i done recently?? i washed the dishes, i cleaned the dog poop, i took out the trash.. it can’t be this’
my boy is going through THE CRISIS OF HIS LIFE (≖ლ≖๑ )
so he reluctantly walks up to you determined to help
but when he reaches you? *brain fart*
ends up patting your head and rubbing your back, but his touch manages to ground you without overwhelming you even further (っ⇀⑃↼)っ
if you end up pulling him into a hug tho, he won’t hesitate to hold you
while comforting you he finally notices your open notebooks filled with messy writing
he feels weirdly relieved that you’re not breaking up with him and neither is it something *tragic*  •(◐﹏◐)•
he’ll let you cry it out before he asks if you’d like some help with your school work he asked fans to send their maths homework so he must be a nerd enough to be able to help you too
but you’re probably too drained(×ω×)  to do anything so you two just settle for a cuddle session under a mountain of blankets
and daegal therapy!!!!!O(≧∇≦)O who probably loves you more than chenle and he ends up whining jokingly about it
chenle will probably focus on lifting up your mood with jokes and stories and he’d do anything to cheer you up
he might try to spoil you too 
and he’s not letting you refuse the ton of food he orders since ‘you deserve to fill up your batteries’ ~~旦_(-ω-`。)
i’m sorry for your tummies after the ammount of sweets you shared
Park Jisung
ah nct’s certified crybaby(lovingly)
might just start crying with you because if you cry he cries too 
i honestly see him a bit panicky in a delicate situation like this once where he has to deal with *emotions* (。´>д<)っ彡☆
so he watches from a safe distance at first
literally jisung.exe has shut down
but then poor kid starts feeling guilty about just watching you suffer without helping and comforting you but he’s kinda scared that he’s only gonna make it worse (●’Д’●)
‘come on park jisung think!!! what would-... what WOULD JAEMIN DO!!’
*cue lighbulb going off above his head*
cue calling jaemin and getting scolded for being on the phone with him instead of being by your side but still giving his precious baby advice
jisung probably comes up with a speech before approaching you he’s nervous okay? ┌༼ σ ‸ σ ༽┐
he lays a hand on your head, gently caressing you and just as he takes a breath to start his speech, you just look up to him with THE kicked puppy eyes ༼ つ ◕ ‸ ◕ ༽つ and jisung is A GONER꒰ლ✘ㅿ✘ლ꒱ 
he MELTS into a puddle of uwus and just leans into you, opting for silent comfort and that’s how he found out that cuddles>>>>>>words
he kinda babbles a little while holding you words are hard ya know
he kinda rambles after you calm down too so now you have to calm him down you’re both messes but you’re cute so
so what is the most efficient way to shut him up? peck his lips!!!!
and as he melts into your hold he remembers that ‘wait!! i’m the one supposed to comfort them!!!!’ (•̀o•́)ง
so he throws his nerves out the window for a moment and just cups his entire world your face in his hands and pecks your all over your face
you end up watching some compilations with kitties or something on both your phones untill your batteries die so then you switch to another device gen z behaviour 
he also probably gets a call from jaemin too and you figure out that your puss of a boyfriend had to call his friend in order to help you
so you give him that look <(`^´)>
let’s say he’s taking you out for brunch the next day AND helping you with your school work 
706 notes · View notes
oogaboogasphincter · 3 years
Text
The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)
Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break. 
Word Count: 2.7k+
Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao
Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇
Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting​ and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic​. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜
Tumblr media
gif by @thernandalorian​
The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.
It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.
However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.
You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.
Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?
Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?” 
His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”
Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being. 
You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.
Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.” 
The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”
“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.” 
You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”
Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies. 
35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”
You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”
He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”
He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.” 
He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.
Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you. 
Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study. 
“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”
Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”
He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”
You turn to face him, “I think so too.”
He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.
Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”
Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”
He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.
He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”
He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”
He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”
Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced. 
When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”
Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left. 
Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”
Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”
Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”
He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”
The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts. 
Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt. 
You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out. 
Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.” 
He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.
Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.
Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester. 
💘taglist: @pascalpanic​, @mellowswriting​
116 notes · View notes
cedricslover · 3 years
Text
Troubled (final)
Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 
Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…
Chapter Summary: Death is inevitable 
Note: there is no specific house:))) I would like to thank everyone that kept waiting and was patient enough, I started this series around March and now it is May. This is my very first series and I hope you all liked it! Again thank you so much❤❤
Warnings: angst, death, little bit of violence
Word Count: 4.2k
Tumblr media
You stopped in front of a headstone. Your hair brushing your cheeks as the wind blew it. "Hey" you started talking, through the years the big lump in your throat slowly fades whenever you visit. "It must be nice there" you smiled and placed the flowers that you were holding down to the ground. 
You breathed in the familiar smell of the field. The smell of the countryside was really different from London. Closing your eyes, memories of the past came flooding in. 
[5 years ago]
"WHAT?" Phoebe, one of your roommates looked at you with shock, "what?" You chuckled as you ate a chocolate frog. 
"What do you mean "what"? So we're just going to act like we didn't see Diggory in front of our dorm earlier" Alice rolls her eyes as she brushes her blond hair, "Oh yeah we got back together" you shrugged and sat on your bed. 
"You really won't tell us what happened that broke the two of you?" Phoebe's voice became wary, she was trying not to say something bad. You shake your head and smile apologetically. "I'm sorry girls" you felt bad. You wanted to tell them of course, but even your best friends since first year don't even know. And surprisingly didn't even nag you about it. 
"It's alright doll, we understand. Besides, Diggory is a great guy, you two are both smart enough to know what is right and wrong" Alice looks at you, there is always comfort in her eyes. Like she always knows what is going on even if you don't talk. She was the perfect example of the person that you can vent to and she will just listen. 
"How about you girls, anything going on with your lives? Why is it always mine?" You laid down and stared at the ceiling. Silence filled the room. For about 10 minutes only the brushing of the tip of the quill to a parchment, breathing, and the noise from the common room are the only sounds you heard.
"Nothing much" you heard a bed squeaked, it was probably Phoebe's. "My life is the most boring one yet" Alice mutters and sighed,  you can see her sitting on her bed. "I don't think so. Each of our lives have different stories. I don't think that's boring" you replied before you pulled your blanket and be completely eaten up by darkness. 
Weeks have passed, it seemed to be doing great. Everything was falling back to pieces. After the school found out that you and Cedric got back together, George and the Beauxbaton girl also publicized their relationship, both of them explained that it really wasn't you in the photograph-which you completely didn't want them to do because you didn't owe anyone any explanation- but they still did. 
Fred and Angelina seemed to be also doing great, well, especially how Fred is under Angelina. 
Of course Barty Jr.-that's disguising as Professor Moody was always giving you 'the look'. Everytime and everywhere, even at class, even your classmates find it strange why Professor Moody always calls you, and then gets mad. They feel bad but you just let it all go, because you knew what his true colors are. 
"Fred" she warns
"Frederick Gideon" with her scary tone
"Frederick Gideon Weasley" that's when you all know Fred was in trouble. 
"Hello darling" you smiled and kissed Cedric's lips before you sat beside him at the library. You both have free time, especially him, tomorrow was the final task, he was trying to study spells that he might use.   
"Hey" he stops reading and wraps his arms around your waist, "Tired" he murmurs while he buries his head on your neck. "You want to eat sumthin'?" You asked while playing with his fluffy hair, running your fingers through his scalp. "No" you can feel his breathing on your neck, it sends shivers down your spine. 
After a while of complete silence, Cedric's breathing seemed to follow a pattern, that's when you knew he was asleep, in your arms. 
You started humming a song that your mum used to sing you to sleep. You can't see his face, but felt it instead, his nose, his lips, his forehead, it felt peace. It felt like home. 
And later on, you also found yourself getting sleepy, your eyelids drooping down. And before you give up on the warmth, your eyes found the book-or more like a magazine that Cedric was reading earlier, you didn't notice it earlier until now. You let out a smile before you closed your eyes.
'Real Estate Magazine, Countryside Edition'
You woke up early, dressed up early, showered early, and went to get breakfast early, and you didn't expect that a lot of students were up early too. Earlier than usual.
"Y/N!" You turned your head while you chewed a toast. It was the trio. "Hey" you greeted them as they sat in front of you. "You alright?" You looked at them while your forehead creased, "yeah" they all answered in unison, that caught them off guard. 
"Harry's going to be fine don't worry" you shake your head and smile as you reach for another toast. "It's just that-" Harry stopped and his hand went to his forehead, where the scar is. 
"His scar's been hurting ever since he woke up" Ron told you, his face was screaming with worry, just the same as Hermione. 
"You should take a rest Harry. You still have til before dusk. I think that would be enough time to prepare and rest" you said, trying to cover the worry in your voice, and of course the fear. 
You four continued to eat, the Great Hall was starting to get more crowded, noise, banners, cheers, they were all anticipating who will win the triwizard tournament. Although you should be joining this crowd, wearing shirts with the one they support, cheering, waving the banners at 8 am. You can't. You were filled with worry, Harry's scar was hurting, and it seemed strange that the Dark Lord wasn't doing anything the whole year. 
And as you walked by Moody's office, it seemed like your suspicions were answered. 
"I already handled it, Dark Lord. Yes, yes, but how about the girl?" You heard Moody, he was rather loud, obviously he used the opportunity as most of the students would be either outside or the Great Hall.
"She wouldn't be a nuisance, we have his brother. She will be extremely useful for the next few years. She has much more potential than her parents. Let her bloom Barty" a faint voice answered him, that was the reason Harry's scar was hurting since this morning. Mere communication can still cause it, you knew he couldn't possibly be physically here. 
"What if Harry wouldn't be the one touching the cup?" Moody's voice was filled with excitement but at the same time, fear. 
"I'll kill them. And you next. Better do your job Barty." The voice disappeared. Your eyes widened as you heard footsteps slowly approaching the door. You ran to the closest hiding spot and peeked. 
"Better handle that girl then" Moody looked around before he drank again from his flask. "Polyjuice Potion" you whispered as you observed him. 
He walked away, to the direction you came from, you waited until you made sure he was gone. 
"Mad-Eye Moody!" You started banging the trunk where Moody was prisoned, your hands shaking as you got the key from one of the drawers. 
"Moody!" You banged again, panting, your sweat started dripping. Your heart was beating fast, you have to do something. You sure don't know anything, but Moody surely does. 
You finally opened the last layer of it and saw that he was there, peering back at you, he was thinner than the last time you saw him. And he lost a lot of hair too. 
He seemed mad, of course, you were the only person inside the castle that knew the Professor Moody that was going around the school the whole year was an imposter, well aside from Cedric who was suspicious.
You started explaining to him, now this was the person that deserved your explanation, not the gossip people. 
It took a while before he finally understood. He must be thirsty and hungry, but you didn't bring any food but only your wand. You looked for any container and luckily you saw a flask, it must have been a spare Polyjuice Potion, you threw the insides away.
"Aguamenti" you chanted and the flask started to be filled with clean water. You cleaned the mess you made and returned it from what it was when you entered before you slowly dropped the flask to Moody who was now drinking it like he hadn't drank any water for a whole week.
"I cannot hear clearly, but I heard Little Hangleton. You know that right?" You nodded at his question. "I don't know what and how, but they would try to bring the Dark Lord back. In power" he looks directly at your eyes, his gaze was piercing, he was expecting you to do something. And you will. 
"I'll be back" the last words you said to him before you slowly closed the trunk, he nods slightly for a response, there was also something in his look, the same look you saw with your parents when they were about to die, the same look you saw with the people of the Order, it was a look of hope and pride. 
"Hey hey" you stopped on your tracks and it snapped you back into reality, you didn't know what to do, "Y/N?" Cedric cupped your face, you looked at his eyes, his questioning eyes. "What's wrong, love?" He tucked strands of hair from your face to behind your ear. Your breathing started to calm down. 
"They're moving Ced, I have to do something" you admitted, there was no point in keeping it a secret to him. His jaw dropped, he was now looking everywhere, trying to be cautious. 
"What can I do to help?" He asks, you felt bad, and it seemed like he noticed it. "Don't feel bad, Y/N. You already carried too much burden, at least let me help you carry it" his mouth curves as he assures you. "It will all be okay" he whispers, still not letting go of your face.
You were still doubting, but he was persistent. "Protect Harry. Help me protect Harry, Ced" your eyes darted to him, both of you knew this was a life and death situation. This wasn't just those silly games you played before, you both only had one chance to save a life, and this was it. 
"I will" he nods, there was more than just the tournament in his mind now. And that is to protect Harry. At all costs.
You observed Harry the whole time before the task, ofcourse, not being so obvious. You would join the three of them at some point, or drag Harry with you and the twins as they show the fireworks that they made and plan to light up when he wins or Cedric. 
It was a win-win, Harry forgets that bloody scar while you keep an eye on him. 
And now, it was Cedric's turn. 
He kissed your forehead and gave you a little smile. "You did well. Let me take over" he said before he turned his back and let go of your hand. Amos waited for him and waved in your direction. The corners of your mouth turned up, trying to be nice to him, despite how you somehow despised because of how he always pressures his son, he always has to do this, reach this, be like this. It was not healthy. 
You knew he was trying to be a good parent, but you wished he had taken lessons from your father before he died. Thankfully Mrs. Diggory was nice enough to appreciate Cedric's achievements, small or big. 
"You alright?" Alice asked you as you sat at the bleachers. "Quite" you smiled at her and returned your gaze to the champions. You were with Alice now, well long story short, the twins were with their girlfriends, even Phoebe, and Alice invited you to join her so here you are now. You know Alice is beautiful, she is also great in academics, even she and Luna Lovegood could really pass as siblings, they have the same interest in things that were believed to be not there, and even their way of clothing were the same. But they both confirmed that they were not related. Still, you were still quite confused as to why she was not out there, having a partner. 
"You know that guy?" She pointed to Gregory Goyle's older brother. "Yeah?" There were lines forming between your eyebrows. "He asked me out" she giggled and covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders started shaking, you also laughed. "What really?" You asked in disbelief, you tried your best not to laugh out loud.
You hated Goyle, he always bullies the ones that he believed was weaker, even Alice. He always made fun of Alice and how she always tries to get people's attention. Now look how the tables have turned.
"He asked me out with those cheesy pick up lines, doll. I tried my best not to laugh and just rejected him immediately" you were both still laughing. She stated some of the pick up lines that made you laugh so much but you still tried not to be loud so in the end, you choked on your own saliva while she stifled a laugh as she pats your back.
The laughter seemed to be a curse, bad luck, or just joy before a disaster. Because right after that you all saw a yellow light sparked to the sky, it was from someone in the maze. 
You were the only one who was not confused, because as that yellow spark flashed, it was a message for you.
'He is safe. Cedric's with him' 
Red sparks were seen earlier, it must have been a marker for the injured ones, but the Yellow ones, the audience and judges didn't know what it meant, only you.
You started praying to the higher ups, if they were ever there, listening to you. You prayed that they would be fine. Only a few scratches, but still good. After just a few minutes another yellow spark was seen, the people decided to shrug it off, but you, you were beyond happy and relieved. The second spark should mean that they got to the cup. They should be arriving any second now. 
You anxiously waited for them, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, and then a minute and they weren't still here. 
'Little Hangleton' 'Back in power' ‘Dark Lord’ 'Coming Back' 'Do your job' 'Kill' 
Voices started to cloud in your mind, Moody, Barty Jr., Voldemort, memories, you patched up the information you got. 
And without even thinking twice you disapparated, thankful that Dumbledore lifted the anti-disapparition charm because there were a lot of outsiders anticipating the third task.
You grunted as you stumbled, you hated how apparition makes your insides like they were being squeezed. It was convenient of course, but you didn't like it. 
"Kill the spare"  you heard, your vision was still dizzy, but you knew that voice. Your vision was blurry, the world was spinning and it felt like your intestines were spinning too. It was the after effect of apparating. 
You stood up, still feeling nauseous, “NOOO!” you shouted as you ran, there were figures and you knew who they were. “Avada Kedavra!” it was definitely Pettigrew, no, not Cedric, not me, not Harry, don’t kill us, please, the words repeated in your mind. The few steps felt like a hundred, you wanted to stop time, and as you rushed towards the figures your vision was slowly being clear. And by the time you can entirely see clearly, you wished, you hoped, that someone blinded you, you wished that this was a dream, hallucination, but as you collapsed on your knees, as the rough ground kissed your legs, it was all real.
“Alice...” tears started to fall from your face as you looked at her face. Her reddish cheeks was now white, her lively eyes was now soulless, her warmth, 
It’s gone, she’s gone. 
“YOU!” You stood up, picking up your wand, Cedric stood beside you, “Free Harry” You commanded him, your nose was now flaring, glaring at the two figures in front of you, Peter Pettigrew carrying the weak Voldemort. 
“Expulso!” you incant, in a snap, Voldemort was now dropped to the ground while Pettigrew was far away, “I’ve had enough of you. You and your values” you stared at Voldemort who was now crawling away, he was so weak, and this was the only time you could do it. The only time you could take revenge from all the lives he took.
“You’re so weak, and you should stay weak” You stepped on his thin legs, he screeched like a creature tortured, “You deserve, every, single, pain” now you stomped on his hand, you felt the bone touch the sole of your feet despite wearing shoes. 
“Sectumsempra!” you cried at his pleading face, you thanked that potions book you saw in the classroom. You watched as so blood just came out from the child like figure in front of you, for a second you thought you were doing something beyond your morals, but you remembered, the images of people that this person-no- monster killed, the mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, and friends, he took away so many lives, he made the world like his playground, killing whoever he felt to kill, and that justified what you did. Regret was not even near. 
“Incarcerous” Cedric’s voice echoed, the tense was back again, Pettigrew was still here, “We’ll take care of him” he told you, giving a second to glance at the lifeless Voldemort that was on the ground, curled, you nodded as an approval. 
And like a vase dropped, or someone threw a big stone to your head, you remember Alice's bleeding body, her opened eyes but why? Why is there a ghost of a smile plastered on that doll-like face?
You slowly walked to her lying body, you never expected that this would happen, that she, she would do something like this. Did she just suddenly hold your arm as you disapparated? Is that why she splinched, her arms, even her legs were bleeding. 
“Dumbass, did you even know where I was going.” you kneeled, reached for her face and removed the strands of hair that were blocking her face. “You’re so dumb. Who’s going to call me doll anymore” you blinked and a tear fell straight to her cheek, you blinked again, another tear fell, you blinked, again and again, and at the same time, tears fell on her pale face, you cried, wailed, even shouted while hugging her body. 
She was there when you needed her, she was there to understand you. She was there when you cried, laughed, even if you were sick, she was there. 
“Doll, come here.” Alice called you while you were packing your things, you were a mess, you just heard that your mother was ill, you have to go home. You sighed and let go of the clothes and walked towards her, she tapped the seat in front of the mirror. 
“You know, you should always look tough in front of the people you have to protect. That’s what my parents told me before. The people that saved them from the Death Eaters, they were tough, I told you about that right?” she started brushing your hair, you examined your reflection, your eyebags were visible, you were also definitely thinner than usual, you felt drained. 
“Before my ma died, she told me information about those who saved them. My ma and pa owe their life to them.” even if you didn’t look at her face, you know she was smiling. “She told me that when they were being saved, the woman was pregnant” you can feel the gentleness from her touch. 
“And?” you asked, she was now tying your hair, “and she told me to protect that child, a token of gratitude for giving my ma and pa another tomorrow” she placed the flower accessories in your hair. 
“Did you protect the child?” you turned to her and saw her eyes twinkled, “I still am doll” she replied to you before she handed your bag. Alice used magic to help you pack, you laughed and hugged her, “Thank you” your mouth curved into a smile. “Aww it’s nothing” she waves her hand and rolls her eyes, acting shy. “Shut up” you chuckle before you turn your back and step outside. 
“You impulsive lady, how about that child you should protect. How can you protect them if you’re dead” You were still crying, thinking about all the memories you had with her, and how you would tell Phoebe, she would be heartbroken. 
Was it really necessary? Are sacrifices really necessary? You just wanted to stop a war, a cycle, you wanted to follow the path your parents took, are deaths really necessary? In exchange for peace, a life should be taken. A meaningful life, someone's daughter, friend, and stranger. 
[present]
“Y/N!” a woman’s voice called you, you turned your head and saw a woman, her hair was now just above her shoulder, brown curls jumping as she walked the hill. “Phoebe” you greeted and opened your arms, she sprinted and hugged you. 
“Oop, be careful with the tummy” you grinned and touched your tummy, there was already a big bump, you were pregnant. “Hello there little one” she lowered herself and talked to your bump. 
“It’s her death anniversary isn’t it” she straightened herself and was now staring at the headstone. 
     Alice Constance O’Brien
March 12, 1978 - June 24, 1995
“Hmm” you answered, peace and silence enveloped the both of you. “It was Alice all along.” sadness took over your face as you remembered what Alice has done for you. 
  Loving daughter and friend
                A hero 
“Ced that night when you saw me following the man. Why were you still roaming?” you asked Cedric as he sat at the library.
“I haven’t told you yet? It was the Head Boy, well technically it was Alice actually, she told me that the head boy couldn’t find me so he asked her to tell me. My schedule changed that time” he muttered as he chewed a pumpkin pasty. Your eyebrows shot up and just shrugged. You owe Alice an acid pop at Hogsmeade.
“She was the one who told me about your situation. She must have known about the dark mark but never told us. She wanted to help you, but in the shadows.” Remus admitted as you talked to him about Alice’s death. He was shocked, the whole society members actually. They are now taking care of his subjects that were lurking around. 
“Hello ladies!” George and Fred suddenly appeared, both of them wrapped their arms around each of your shoulders. “Fred. I prefer women, thank you” Phoebe removed Fred’s arm and even tried to dust it off, “Rude” Fred squinted his eyes at her while she just smirked and flipped her hair.
“Where’s your husband and brother?” George asked and also placed flowers at the ground. Now there were a lot of flowers for Alice. “You’re liking that aren’t you?” you talked to the headstone, you were all just silent. Even the loud twins fell in silence, they liked Alice, not romantically, they admired her, how she was unique, always had a voice, and how she stood up for herself. 
“I love it doll” you heard a whisper as the breeze came by, you knew it was her, it had always been her. She was still there, watching. 
“Oh Alice” Phoebe started crying, the twins tried to offer her a hug but she went to you instead, you sniggered as you saw their offended face. 
They all felt her. 
“Hey!” two voices called all of your attention and there it was, Cedric your husband, and your eight year old brother. Theodore hurried to the twins that immediately picked him up, he liked them. “We bought snacks.” Cedric raised a basket and spreaded out a cloth to the grass. 
“Are you crying?” Cedric inspected Phoebe who still has her nose red from crying. “Yes. What about it” she rolled her eyes and got bread from the basket while Cedric was still arranging the cloth. “I’m just asking.” Cedric chuckled and shook his head. 
You observed each and one of them, they all changed, with their own careers and life, of course they will change. Cedric was now working at the ministry, he did once think about being a professional quidditch player, but he felt like a work at the ministry would be better, and he liked it. The twins and their joke shop was still going, stronger as it was before, they’ve built quite the reputation, and Phoebe, she was now a Herbologist, she always had an interest in plants. 
And you, you also built your career, with your dream job. 
Are you seeing this Alice? I made it. We made it. 
You carefully sat at the cloth and they all asked you what you would name the child inside of you. Your eyes gleamed, you always knew that if you had a chance to name your child it would be…
“Alice”
58 notes · View notes
aleksadnezz · 3 years
Text
Sweet Night 5
Jae x Reader
“I’m sorry.” I said while still damping the tissue on his wet hoodie.
“It’s okay. What were you saying again?” He took the tissue from me and he do it on his own.
“Oh I was just gonna ask if you are?” I raised my lanyard to show the keychain to him. His small eyes widen when he saw it.
“How did you now?” He asked. So it’s true??? OMG!!!! My lips formed a big smile. I can’t believe, I’m going to tell it to Ara she would be excited.
“I saw your stuff animals’ collection.” I said cheerfully and pointed his shelves.
He looked at It and returned his eyes on me. He still looked confused so I tried to explain what I mean.
“I actually have a friend, she gave me this and she told me it’s a merch from a kpop group, you have the same so I assumed that you are..” He looked at me waiting me to continue speaking. I can clearly see the nervousness from his eyes. He might think that I’ll tell to other people what I know.
“You are a fan too.”
“Please don’t tell it to other people-“
We spoke at the same time but I heard what he said. He softly laughed and scratched the back of his nape.
“Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m a fan too.” He shyly said.
“Don’t worry I won’t say it.” I said, now I’m hesitating if I’m gonna share this to Ara. I bet she would be happy if I told her that I have a fanboy friend. It’s still weird for me to have a neighbor that is my friend too because I’m not that friendly. What in a bigbang theory is this, except that we’re both introverts and he don’t have a Sheldon.
“Uh have you seen or heard anything about that group?” He suddenly asked. I shook my head.
“Nah. I only know that they’re one of the kpop groups.” I said. I heard him laughed so I looked at him. “Why?”did I said something wrong?
“Nothing. I think they’re more of a kband than a kpop but that’s okay.” He explained. I know nothing about any of that but I like bands for sure I would like them. I almost forgot about the group that Ara said to me earlier, I’ll try to listen to them maybe I would like them too, the thing is I forgot their group name, I’ll just ask Jae if he knows it.
“By the way you know a kpop group that has kids in their name?”
“Stray Kids?”
“Yeah! that’s right, Stray Kids.”
“You like them?”
“Not really I’ll just start listening to them actually.” He nodded. “My friend will bring me to their concert so..”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“You can come too. I will tell to my friend.” I suggest. Since he’s a fan too might as well invite him to their concert. “Have you attended a concert before? Because I haven’t” I laughed.
“Yeah I’ve been into some concerts, I perform there.” He said the last words under his breath so I didn’t hear it clearly.
“Ha?” I asked but he only shook his head and smiled at me.
“I’ll try to join you with your friend in the concert.”
“Cool!! I’d let you know..” I said. I wonder if he has other socials, but I still don’t know how his name spelled so it’s hard to find him. “Anyway, I think my job here is done so I’m now gonna head out. I have to feed the cat.”
We walked over his opened door. Before I turn and bid him goodbye he spoke.
“How’s Minnie by the way. I haven’t seen her.” He said. Of course you haven’t, you didn’t leave your room for a week.
“She eats a lot and whines a lot. So if you heard her in the middle of the night please don’t knock on my door.” He let out a smiley laugh where I can see his pearly white teeth and the disappearance of his eyes.
“It’s a cute cat. I won’t get mad.” He assures.
“I’ll keep that in my mind.” I raised my finger and pointed my head. I glance at his stretched lips, and that smile. what? I didn’t say that.
Today is Friday and I got off from work extra early. When this happens usually Ara and I would go to mall to window shop or I just accompany her but today she told me that she has something to go to. Also, I didn’t tell Ara about Jae yet, maybe soon if he agrees to come with us to the concert.
I went straight home after my shift so I can go to market. Minnie is running out of cat food supply and I’m running out of food too. I also want to have a chill night where I’d lay on my bed while I watch sum movies. I quickly changed my polo into a shirt and sweats. I wore the glasses that I only wear when I use my computer or phone. I went in front of my mirror to check myself. I stared at my reflection for a long time trying to examine what seems weird. Was it my face? I don’t have dirt on my face and I don’t look tired either. It’s the clothes. I look like Jae. Sweats and glasses, I look comfy as heck.
I don’t want to spend time just to change so I’ll just ignore that I accidentally dressed up as my neighbor, as if that I would bump into him today, I barely see that guy. I carry my tote bag with my phone and wallet in it, and I wore my slides. I left my apartment and locked it.
“You’re going out too?”
I jolted when I heard a voice. Speaking of my neighbor, in fact I don’t even have to turn around just to know who it is. Still, I turned around to face him.
“Yeah, just grocery and you?” Thank g he’s wearing a black hoodie while mine’s gray.
“I need to pick up something.” He said while he’s locking his door.
“Where do you grocery shop?” He asked. I waited him so we can walk together.
“Emart.”
“My way is also there; do you want a ride? I already booked a grab.” He showed me his phone with the said grab. I mean free ride? Of course I do.
“Sure.” The lift opens so we enter. From 15 floor going to ground floor is a long ride so I made myself busy by observing every single thing that I see here inside the lift. When we entered there are already sum people inside, 2 guys and a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I’m judging them, but from what I can see, what they’re doing considered PDA already. Hugging, laughing and teasing like there’s no tomorrow.
I don’t know if those guys are annoyed too and just trying to ignore them or maybe it’s just only me. I glanced to Jae to see what he’s doing, looks like he’s not bothered at all. His left hand slipped inside the pocket of his pants; other hand is on his phone.
Another person entered the lift. I moved backwards so she can have space. The couple moves backwards too so they’re now standing beside me, I can even feel her bag nudging my arm but I tried to ignore it. Within a hot minute her arm hit my side causing me to bumped Jae. I looked at the couple as calm as I can possibly can.
“I’m sorry miss.” “sorry miss.” They both said in union.
“It’s okay.” I said calmy and showed my nicest smile. I want my afternoon to be chill and stress free plus I may see them again I want to protect my pure reputation as a good neighbor. Suddenly I felt a hand on my elbow that slowly pulled me closer to him. I felt an electric shock that send shivers all over my body. I stood frozen next to him because of how close we are. I can even smell his perfume, it’s like a mixture of fresh fruity and baby powder. I wonder where he bought it.
He let go of my arm when we reached the ground floor. We walked towards the entrance of the building but I stayed walking behind him. He looked back at me and stopped walking so I can catch up with him. When we got out the building, we can see that there’s a car already waiting. Jae made me get on first and I thought that he would sit beside the driver but he sat next to me.
It’s rush hour already and we we’re caught by traffic. I stared outside the car window like I always do when I commute. There’s time where I’m channeling my main character vibes when I look outside the window. None of us is taking and the sound from the cardio radio playing sum R&B soul songs was the only noise. Jae was busy scrolling through his phone, though I don’t want to bother him but I feel like I should speak.
“So where are you heading to?” I blurted out. I tried not to look at him directly so I stared at the driver’s seat.
“Somewhere near the TBD Company”
“Isn’t that where most celebrity’s hangout or sumthin?” I’ve never been into that area and I know that, that place is one of the richest districts.
“Well not all because I go there all the time.” He said before he turned off his phone and looked at me.
“Have you ever bumped to a celebrity?” I asked. For sure he had at least once, especially when he said that he have been there a lot.
“Just some of them. I’ve always seen Mark Tuan in a coffee shop that I go to, you know him?” Is he kidding? I think he’s the only famous person that I could remember that Ara ever told me. She showed me a video clip of him dancing and I think I forgot to breathe for a sec, plus he got the cutest smile. I must admit that prolly have a thing for people’s smile.
“You mean the very good-looking guy?” I said in awe and he laughed at my reaction. Well, I only said what know is true.
“Yeah, that very good-looking guy.” He said casually as if that he knows him but he’s still laughing. Wait if he seen some celeb then he might have seen his Kpop Idols.
“How about your favorite Kband? Day6?” I’m honestly just guessing, but I believe most of the company’s are located there so assume that they work there. Instead of answering me he let out a fake cough.
I immediately understood what he’s trying to say so I leaned to him and whispered. “Okay I won’t mention in public that you’re a Kpop fan.”I assure him. I find it funny that he’s getting conscious and shy about other people knowing that he’s a fanboy.
“No actually.. yeah alright, I’ll just take that.” Yeah, whatever Jae. I looked outside and saw that we’re almost near the market, I turned to Jae and poked him.
“You can drop me off here.” He nodded.
“Mr. can you pull over to the next street.” Jae said.
“Thank you for the ride Jae.”
“No worries, what time you will be done?”
“I don’t know I may take a while.” I may take a while since I don’t have a grocery list so I’ll prolly have to go to every aisle to remember all the stuff that I needed, a life hack that I learned when I started living on my own.
The driver pulled the car off the road. I turned to Jae before I opened the door.
“Thank you again.” I said and he smiled. I opened the door and got off the car. I waited for them to leave before I enter the market.
1 2 3 4 5
23 notes · View notes
metallic-sevenfold · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
(For now on, when I post Ducktales characters or Roni, ima make a side note or a short/long story :)) )
Fenton and Roni: *is fixing the Gizmoduck suit*
Louie: *kicks open the doors* HELLO PEOPLE!!
Fenton: Oh! Hello there, Louie!
Roni: H-Huh? Oh, H-Hi- *gets electric shocked* AH-!! B-BLATHERING BLATHERSKITES- *slips on some papers* UWAHH-!! *falls down very hard*
Fenton: R-Roni-!!
Webby: *whispers* Louiee, get your phoneee!!
Louie: *takes his phone out* Okay? *starts recording*
Fenton: Roni! Are you okay?!
Roni: Agh...I-I’m fine! *gets back up and smiles*
Fenton: You know, this is my first hearing you say Blathering Blatherskite- wait oh no- *get the whole armor back on him* Ah jeez-!
Roni: *giggles alot* Wow! My k-knight and shining armor is he-here! *claps for him*
Fenton: *smiles* Well, I am here to save your butt from falling! *wink*
Roni: *frowns a bit and blushes* (Her mind: I should really need to be careful with this dude next time..) *looks at her watch* Oh goodness! I g-gotta go! See ya tomorrow F-Fenton-! *writes something and runs off*
Fenton: Oh! B-Bye!! Hmh.. *looks at the paper* Oh! What’s this?? *picks it up*
Webby: OHHH!! WHAT’S THE NOTE?!
Fenton: *opens the note*
“Heyo! Sorry for loosing the track of time but we can meet up at my place to continue fixing your suit! It can be like a scientist date or sumthin, anyways, meet ya there at 5 pm! - Roni”
Webby: ITS A DATE, YAHOOOOO-!!!!!
Fenton: *blushes* Holy ducks!! (His mind: Finally! This is like my next move until asking her to be my girl!)
—————
(Tadaaa! Anyways side note! Roni is actually stuttering, not because she’s shy, well, she is shy but she’ll sometimes say like “bleh, cant talk anymore” or “ahhh jeez” just little mistakes will kinda stress her out a bit, even during important presentation)
7 notes · View notes
vanchlo · 4 years
Text
Gatsby (Green Eyes / 3)
Tumblr media
Read the first part, here, and the second part, here! :-)
Blurb Synopsis: With a few months of teaching under your belt, at times you find yourself struggling. Luckily, your boyfriend and teaching colleague, Harry, is there to help you by offering advice or a comforting kiss. Although you’ve only been dating for a few months, you find that there's something special about this man.
Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, and romance.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 10.4k words, whoops 
Pairing: Harry x Reader
Music Inspo: Happy Together by The Turtles (click to listen) 
Your mind is muddled with thoughts. Remember to send this email today. Make sure to put this in so-and-so’s mailbox. Don’t forget to send that birthday card in the mail. Can’t misplace that sheet you have to make copies of tomorrow for an assignment. Enter those grades. Grade those tests, and those papers. They weren’t wrong, you think, when they said the work of a teacher never ends. As you sit at your desk, the world war two novel you’ve been trying to read lately stares back at you from the sidelines, adding another stick to your pile. A rather massive pile, at that. You knead your temple as the blinking cursor awaits your words on the lit screen. Words that you don’t have yet, and aren’t sure when you will. You’ve found it more and more difficult to send the hard emails home to parents, and even after three and a half months under your belt of teaching, it hasn’t gotten any easier. 
“What’d I say ‘bout bitin’ yer nails?” 
Breaking your stare off with your computer, your eyes jump to your door where you find Harry standing there. 
Placing your chin in your propped hand, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”
“Here, ya look like ya need sumthin’ else t’ chew on,” he murmurs, taking a step into your classroom. Something leaves his hand to fly into the air, skidding to a stop in front of you on your desk. At the sight of the shiny gold wrapper marked by the words, Twix, you return to his eyes with a smile. “Now, wha’s got ya so nervous, bird?”
“I’m trying to write an email home, and not a happy one.”
“Ah, I hate havin’ t’ write t’ose meself, they’re neva easy. Can I help?” he inquires, taking slow steps into your classroom. When your laptop sounds with a chime!, the alert for a new email, your eyes leave his tall figure. 
His question goes unanswered on accident with the appearance of the email loading before your eyes. The words start to trickle into your mind, and with their absorption, the heaviness felt in your heart grows. 
“Hullo? Anybody home in there?” Harry laughs, his feet stopping in front of your desk. You don’t answer, and you barely see him lean to the side to look at you. “Hey, wha’s tha matta?” he questions, his tone suddenly changing. Gulping, no words come to you as the ones on your screen shoot icy fear into your veins. Your name falls from his mouth as he walks over to you, stopping behind you. 
“I have to be observed,” you groan, your face falling into your hands. “Later this week,” you finish with a whimper, your shoulders sagging. 
“Oh it’ll be okay, love. We all have it done once a year, ‘s only t’ benefit ya. ‘s fer feedback. Ya don’t gotta worry. Principal’s observation ‘s at tha end o’ tha year,” he tells you, his soothing voice turning irritating at the last part. You respond with a whine, but you find that you can’t remain upset with him when his arms come around you. “Ya’ll do great, bird. Don’t fret. I know things have been stressful lately fer ya, so try not t’ let it botha you.”
“But it does. I already feel like I’m not doing a good enough job, and then somebody has to observe me, ugh. I’m going to be so nervous that I’ll probably screw up even more,” you exhale, hiding away from your fears, but soon you feel your chair spin around. Tearing your hands away from your face, you open them to find Harry squatting in front of you. 
The mere sight of the dimples in his cheeks and the glint in his eye eases the tension felt throughout your body. A second later, you’re unsure of that when your sight graces the ebony dress shirt rolled up his taut arms, and the mustard slacks hugging his thighs. Yeah, there are a whole lot of reasons to make you feel tense around this man, and on the other hand he makes you feel at ease. Talk about confusing, when one thing has both effects on you. Ugh. 
“Yer too hard on yerself, birdy. Ya gotta stop it, I don’t like seein’ me girl feel so down,” he hums, his thumb painted in cracking hot pink nail polish tapping your nose. Even just the thought of how he’ll let you paint his nails the next time he comes over to your house makes you feel better. By now, he doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him, and by the look of his battered nails, anticipation grows inside of you at the thought. “Now, why don’t ya try t’ forget ‘bout tha observation, and lemme help ya write tha email t’ tha parent? Then we can leave and ya can come ova t’ mine, and I can cook ya a nice dinna.” 
His lips split into a smile in front of you, sparking one on your own. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend in the world?”
“Hmmm, I dunno, maybe. I can’t recall, but I wouldn’t complain t’ hear dat a few more times,” Harry smiles, leaning forward to surround your lips with his. Yours curl into a smile as his fingers dance across your cheek and into your hair. 
“Harry, the email,” you begin after breaking the kiss. 
“Shh, lemme have a kiss first. ‘s been too long,” he almost laughs, pressing his lips back to yours.
“I saw you in sixth hour in the copier room and you got one then,” you interrupt, knowing that you’re getting on his nerves. 
“Too long,” is all he says impatiently, replacing his lips on top of yours. 
Relaxing, you move yours together with his and soon find your hands running along his cheeks prickly with facial hair. They run down the expanse of his warm neck, his tamed beard soon fading away. Pads of your fingers collide with the chain of his necklace hidden under his shirt, signaling you’re almost there. You let a grin slip, impeding the kiss, when you can feel his taut chest under his button up. Finally.
“Like what yer findin’?” he asks, laughing against your mouth. 
“Mmmhmm,” you answer slyly, peeking open your eyes to find his on yours, mere inches away. “Maybe we should write dat email now. Don’t wantcha gettin’ too carried away now,” Harry hums pulling away, much to your disappointment. “No, yer not gonna get me with tha pout again, so dontcha try it now.” He wags a finger at you as his words play on his face. Feeling risky, you reach forward and bite at the tip of it, smelling the cinnamon lotion he has a bottle of on his desk. 
“Ya betta watch it, bird!” Harry chuckles, the smile taking grasp of him now, as well as the laugh that sings to your ears. 
“Or else what?” you reply, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 
“Open yer email befo’ ya convince me with that adorable face o’ yers.”
You ignore him and continue to stare at him, happiness and longing showing in your eyes. You’re certain that he sees it too, you’re just not sure what he’s going to decide to do with it. His bottom lip comes between his teeth as his green eyes stare into yours, him standing only a step away from you. Although it’s the slightest movement, his hands starts to trail from the back of your chair. 
“Birdy,” he begins with a warning, shaking his head at you, that song leaving his strawberry lips again. Suddenly, you wish he was wearing a tie today so you could grab a hold of it and pull him in by it, but alas he’s without one today. “Don’ test me.”
His words are hypocritical, meaning one thing as his face tells you another story entirely. Somehow, they have the opposite effect on you, egging you to go further with the teasing. You enjoy pushing his buttons, another thing that he knows far too well by now. Your fingers sitting limp on your legs itch to touch him, and roam his body. Those curls, his bearded cheeks, that muscular chest, or those thick arms. Maybe even all of him. 
“We can have a good snog at me house tha sooner we get dis done,” Harry cautions, only worsening the pout forming on your lips. He reacts to it promptly, with that lip-biting returning, and his fist coming to his mouth. As if he has to refrain from saying, or doing, something. 
“Why can’t I just have one more now? It won’t hurt,” you plead, letting your chin fall a tad, allowing you to look up at him through your lashes. 
“‘m in real trouble with ya, aren’t I, birdy? Go’mme wrapped ‘round yer li’l finga like there’s no t’morrow, dontcha?” Harry teases, slowly leaning in, his arms bending at his wrists where they lay planted to your chair’s armrests. 
“Yeah, just the way you like it,” you note aloud, the anticipation buzzing in your gut as he draws near. 
“Yer right ‘bout dat, darlin’. Couldn’t say no t’ ya if I tried, thinkin’ that might ge’mme in trouble one o’ these days,” Harry finishes with a snicker before the taste of oranges meets your lips, and his beard is tickling your skin. Just the way you like it. 
“Ravioli or pasta?” you hear float from the kitchen. 
It’s a wonder you hear him as your thoughts are consumed by his bookshelves. Although you’ve been to his place several times now, you’re still enamored by trying to familiarize yourself with the items he chose to live with him. 
The acoustic Taylor sitting in the corner on a stand. The Monet prints dotting his walls, along with those of The Stones, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, and Pink Floyd. The pink ukulele hung on his wall that he made you laugh with while playing a rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow the first time you came over. You swear that his blankets are the coziest and warmest. He also makes the best fires in the fireplace, even making s’mores for dessert the first time you came over, making quite the impression. The last time, you had devoured his record collection, flipping through it and playing the few that interested you at the time. You even like the silly napkins with sayings on them that he has in the kitchen. Now, you’ve returned to his book collection that seems to grow by a few each time you’re here. 
“Why do you have Shel Silverstein here, but not at school?” you call out to him, feeling the change in texture of the book spines, the tip of your finger ghosting over them. 
“‘Coz tha’s a copy from when I was li’l. Now, ya didn’t answer me question. Which d’ya want me t’ make, bird?” he replies gently, his deep voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen. 
Once again, his words drift by unnoticed as you carefully remove a copy of a novel that catches your eye, The House on Mango Street. You’ve found it before on his shelves at school, and the cover has always enraptured you, but you’ve never found the time to pick it up. Turning it over, your eyes flit over the description on the back of the thin book. 
“Hey, ‘m talkin’ t’ ya, birdy,” a voice murmurs, their words dancing across your neck with a tickle. “Tryin’ t’ figure out what t’ make us fer dinna.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just looking at this book. I’ve always meant to see what it’s about,” you comment, turning your head back ever so slightly, but you don’t need to do that to know he’s there. His arms have surrounded your waist and his beard tickles against your temple, lips soon dotting kisses along that space. 
“‘s okay. Ah, so this ‘s where yer always runnin’ off t’ when ya come ova. Got meself a book worm fer a girlfriend, I like it. Findin’ anythin’ good? Ya know ya can borrow whateva ya want, love. I know ya’ll take good care o’ it,” Harry coos in between feathery pecks he plants down the side of your face. “‘s a good one too, bird. I teach it every year. Tha students enjoy it too. Ya might come t’ teach it too, I think, since we’re both teachin’ American Lit. this semester,” Harry comments, soon his nose making an appearance tickling your cheek. The words on the back of the book were beginning to blur before your eyes, but they’re forgotten altogether when his fingers brush against your belly, clasping together there. 
“Thank you. I suppose I should read it already then.”
“Yeah, ‘m surprised ya haven’t already. Borrow it and take yer time with it, ya’ll enjoy it. ‘s a bit sad tho’ from what I rememba. Now, ravioli or pasta? Was thinkin’ a salad on tha side, marinated chicken, and sum berries,” he finishes, the safety his arms provide you with soon fleeting. Looking over your shoulder, he walks away and back to the kitchen, noting that he needs to get the pasta water boiling. 
As your eyes trail to his bum round in his gray jogging shorts, a cheeky answer begs at your lips instead. He pipes up again with an inquisitive ‘well’ and your response falls from your lips, “Ravioli, please.”
He hums a confirmation from his new perch down the hall, the sounds of cupboards opening and things being jostled around soon following. The rest of the book’s summary passes your eyes before you set it down on the arm of the brown sofa, forgotten as soon as he had walked in. Passing Harry’s favorite reading chair in the corner accompanied by a tall lamp, you tiptoe through the narrow hallway marked by framed pictures on the walls. You hear his soft singing as you round the corner, happening upon his towering figure to your left, standing at the stove. Taking a page from his book, you slide across the wooden floor in your socks, quickly capturing him with your arms. 
“Boo!” you whisper into his ear, feeling him jump in your arms. 
“Don’t scare me like that, coulda burned me hand,” he warns, but when you chance a look at the pot of water below him, you find him to be a fibber. 
“You don’t even have the gas on yet, silly,” you murmur in argument, dragging your nose along his freckled neck, paler from the winter months. 
“So? ‘m tryin’ t’ cook here,” he argues, although terribly, because a giggle escapes his candy-like lips. Ones you very much would like to kiss right now, and perhaps taste, and nibble. Nodding into his shoulder, your hands unravel to explore the toned expanse of his stomach under his shirt. “Bird,” he says firmly, the cracking sound of the salt grinder following his words. 
“I’m just helping you cook,” you explain feebly, brushing the pad of your thumb against his wispy happy trail. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember from the times at the beach where his tattoos are, because they don’t feel any different to the rest of his skin. The fern leaves, the butterfly, and then the swallows below his collarbone. 
“Yer pushin’ me buttons again. Ya know I don’ like it,” Harry grumbles, trapped within your grasp when he turns to grab the package of refrigerated ravioli from the counter. 
“I’m sorry, can’t I just hug my boyfriend?” you whine, feeling your voice catch at that last word, even after two months. 
“Don’t play that game with me, go read yer book or sumthin’. Catch up on sum gradin’, you’ll thank yerself later fer doin’ so, and me.”
“You’re no fun,” you whimper, hands stilling amongst his toned abdomen and soon returning to your body. Cheekily, you give in to your temptations and pinch his bum hastily, running off with a giggle. 
“Birdy!” Harry calls after you, trying to hide the laugh in his voice, but you’re doing enough laughing for the both of you. You don’t hear the sound of his booming footsteps following you, and so you plop onto his sofa with a relieving sigh. “Remind me not t’ give ya more than two glasses o’ wine, ya get all weird afta two.” 
“I do not!” you exclaim, pressing the power button on the remote for his tv. 
“Ya do too! Grabbin’ me bum and gettin’ all handsy unda me shirt,” he contends with a scoff that dissolves into a titter. You respond with a ‘hmmph’ loud enough for him to hear as your head hits the velvet pillow at one end of the sofa, body splaying out to cover the rest. 
“I’ll say it again, you’re no fun!”
“Oh, give it a rest!” is all Harry says disbelievingly, meanwhile you pout as you try to immerse yourself in an episode of The Simpsons. 
It’s one of those Halloween specials, you’re not sure which one as there were several, even though Halloween was very nearly two months ago. Turning up the volume, you try to drown out the sound of pots banging together, and packages crinkling. You even attempt to mask the sound of his voice, the wine buzz securing you in your own little bubble, and a lonely one at that. 
“Babeeee,” you finally hear, along with the soft padding of his slippers nearing you. “Don’ be a crab, y’know I don’ like bein’ botha’d when ‘m cookin’ sumthin’ hot. Don’ want t’ get eitha o’ us burnt. I’d do tha same if I had kids and they were ‘round,” he mumbles, his footsteps coming to a pause, and so does your heart at the sound of his words. 
“Me li’l birdy,” Harry coos in a sing-song voice, the whine of the ancient wood floors marking his arrival. His calloused fingertips along your forehead and through your hair are difficult to ignore, as are his sweet lips smelling of Roscato against your skin. “Don’ be upset with me please, ya know I can’t handle it. Ya wanna come help me cook? You can chop up tha salad if ya’d like, well as long as yer hands are okay afta those glasses o’ wine.”
“Nah-ah,” you deny, rubbing your face with your hand, growing sleepy from the alcohol. “You don’t want my help, and I’m all dizzy.”
“I do want yer help, that’s why I asked. Hmm, dizzy, are you?” he queries, drawing your attention upwards to where he kneels beside the sofa, head hanging over yours. “Does this make ya dizzy too?” he grins upside down for you, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. A smile hints at yours after the kiss ends, him raising an eyebrow. 
You shake your head ‘no’ and he clucks his tongue, dipping in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. You’d choose to grow dizzy from his intoxicating lips over anything else, again and again. The bite of the alcohol follows the sweetness of the white wine he had poured you both glasses of, his still being nursed in the kitchen. The chill to his pillowy lips is shocking against your warm lips, but it’s forgotten when your fingers drift to his hair. You’ve only gotten a taste of his scrumptious top lip before he pulls away, having kissed you in an odd way, upside down. 
“Ya still upset with me?” he breathes against your lips, rubbing his nose against yours ever so slightly, a smirk edging at his lips. 
“I won’t be after one more kiss, and a cuddle,” you insist, testing your limits, but by now you’re fairly certain what you can get away with. Sometimes it surprises you how much, from stealing his favorite pen from his desk, grabbing his butt in the breakroom, knicking a sweater from his closet the last time you were over, or spamming him with texts of songs he wouldn’t ever listen to but he still does, for you. 
  “Alrighty then, c’mere, birdy,” he smiles before he melts against you in a kiss, once again. 
Soon, he’s scooping his arms under your legs and settling you on his lap, sinking into the sofa. Your head finds a home below his collarbone, legs draped across his lap and your bum hanging off the side of it. 
“I forgot ya get all tired on me afta alcohol. I gotta rememba t’ only dole it out when tha sun ‘s still up,” he giggles, the sound reverberating around in his broad chest under his Paul McCartney & Wings shirt. His fingers surround one of your hands, holding it to his chest as his other cups your waist where he holds you against him. 
“Yeah,” you mumble softly, trying to focus on the tv show, but it’s a lost cause. 
With his refreshing citrus smell enveloping you, the notes of the tangy orange he eats by sections every day clings to his skin somehow. Dreamily, you admire his neat beard for the hundredth time, smiling adoringly at the little patches he hates that don’t grow in all of the way. For some reason, you love them even more, wondering what his cheeks look like underneath all of the dark brunette hair. 
The show is forgotten at the recesses of your mind, and instead, your attention revolves around Harry, much to your surprise. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. The scattering of ink covering both arms, top to bottom. The dark curly hair donning his chest if you nudge the collar of his shirt down far enough. Even the steady beating of his heart grabs your focus, leading you to the slight pause and wake of it at the corner of his neck. Perhaps your most favorite of all is a hard tie between watching the execution of his facial features, or playing with his hands. One he minds quite more than the other, but you think he’s starting to get used to it. 
Your fingers that look puny in contrast to his run over the minuscule hairs peppered across his knuckles, yet another trait of his you adore. It’s rare there’s one you’ve found of his that you don’t enjoy immensely. They fall against his, feeling the lukewarm metal decorating his fingers, and he doesn’t even pause. Scooting your eyes away from his hands quickly, you try to forget the inviting veins bulging from his skin you so often like to get lost tracing. They flit now to the almost indiscernible dimples caving into his hairy cheeks, eyes gleaming as he titters at something on the tv. It all ends much too soon and you’re caught in the act, his gaze falling to yours. 
“Whatcha lookin’ at me fer?” he wonders aloud, the space between his brow creasing. You resist rubbing it free, finding you don’t have the time to when his lips press a kiss to your nose. “Water’s boilin’, I should go start tha chicken. Ya can help if ya want, but ya don’t hafta, love. Don’ want ya cuttin’ those pretty li’l fingas o’ yers.”
A nod suffices for your imaginary words, and so does the curling of your lips that part, “I like you,” you mumble, eyes glued to him, much like a puppy dog. 
“I like ya too, birdy. Quite arguably tha best thing that’s happened t’ me in a while, you are,” he rasps, voice dripping of honey at the arrival of his words. The look painting his face tells you that he knows it too, and you can taste the honey when he pecks you. “Like ya so much I can’t believe it sumtimes.” 
*
You both knew within the first week of school that having your prep hour during the same time in fifth hour, although coincidental, was perhaps not a good idea. It was uncertain whether the demons of the world or the angels of it had arranged this, seeing as you soon distracted each other from getting much prep done for that day’s lessons, grading, what have it. The both of you got on each other’s nerves regarding it at times, him more so than you, but you’re rest assured you both were grateful for it. 
Like today, you can’t stop jiggling your knee as you listen to Chopin while grading papers on the interpretable meanings of the scarlet A from The Scarlet Letter. Harry had gotten quickly upset with you yesterday when you had hogged too much of his prep hour with kissing and talking, noting that he had already been interrupted by another colleague. Today, you’re trying to give him his space to get his work done, but you find it exhausting staying away from him, much like you always do, and have to already. The temptation is even worse when he’s less than fifty steps away, and with those lips that should be downright illegal. His snap at you still stung, if only a little, and you can’t find your focus seeing that you’ve hardly seen him around today. 
Sometimes you feel pathetic and he’ll joke that you are too, melting into a puddle like The Wicked Witch of the West from not having seen him enough. You know that you are, but the realization doesn’t make you feel any better. Neither do you when a second later, speak of the devil, you hear his voice outside your ajar door. It mingles with another, and this one mentions your name, you’re rather sure. Harry shushes the other person with a laugh, and when the voices have paused, you return your gaze to the marked-up paper you’re grading. Turning up the music on your desktop, you sigh as you start reading the sentence over again, for the third time. 
*
Relief buds at the tips of your limbs as you gather your things from your desk around quarter to four, positive Harry’s after-school Poetry Club should be over by now. It’s stolen away as your fingers dangle on the handle of the door, his door closed with his nifty store-like sign turned to CLOSED. Sighing, your face creases into a messy line at the sight of it, your fingers soon composing a text to him that goes unanswered. 
Looking both ways down the hall, when the coast is clear, your heels click across the hall to place you at his door. Again, it’s unlocked to allow the custodial staff to come and clean soon. Bingo! Blanketed in darkness, few streams of light make their way in past the new snow blanketing the campus grounds. You don’t need much light anyways, and after setting your things down on a desk, you settle in his chair. The squeaks are almost all the way out of it, you notice, as you pull on the chain to the vintage green lamp at the corner of his desk. A new addition. Albeit a few scattered pens and lists, it looks much the same since the last time you were in his classroom. You quickly find a pad of Post-Its, green this time, and a pen that’s a fun color. Licking your lips with an excited smile, the sadness of missing Harry is abated by getting the chance to sneak a note onto his desk, which you’ve found is far harder to do these days. You leave with a smirk donning your lips, and a few Bit-O-Honeys to tide you over until the next time.
Harry,
Do you have any plans this Saturday? I might know a certain girl who is planning on making homemade pizza, and who thought you might enjoy it. If you’d like to, I can let her know and pass your name along. I’ve heard she’s a rather good chef, just don’t get too many glasses of wine into her, or else she turns into a real fruit loop. 
P.S. I wish there were words for how I feel about you, but being the English nerds we are, I think that gives you a little advantage to understand once I find those words. Have a great day, my love.
Your Birdy 
xoxoxo
*
Huffing, you stab at the button again, but you still receive the same error message from the copying machine. Forgetting it, you log out before turning around, which wasn’t a great idea either, you find. A quiet squeal leaves your lips when you find Harry standing in front of you, grinning at his success from scaring you. 
“A li’l jumpy this mornin’, are we?” he smirks, sliding his covered arms into the pockets of his gray slacks. 
“Yeah, you could say that, and the copier hates me this week,” you return, walking past him and over to the shelf of supplies in containers. 
“Oh, ya can use me code if that helps. Maybe it senses ya hate it,” he giggles, now behind you. Your nod suffices for a response as you drag your fingers through the sea of pens, searching for one color. 
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Ugh, there’s never any red pens when I need one,” you sigh, annoyed. 
“Ya know ya can take one from me stash anytime ya need,” he insists, humming a tune as he taps his foot. You mumble another small ‘thanks’ before moving onto another container. 
“Hey, why ya bein’ all shy?” he inquires, his gentle fingers soon encircling your wrist, turning you to face him. Again, you wonder how he can look more handsome every day, even in a dorky gray pull over vest with a cream button up underneath. 
“You said we can’t do PDA in school.”
“‘s tha copier room and nobody else ‘s here, bird. ‘s fine, y’know that by now,” he argues, pulling you into his arms easily, manipulating you like soft clay. Trying and failing to hide a frown, his brow knits together in confusion. “Why ya bein’ all weird, hmm? Gonna tell me?”
“You don’t let me come and bother you during our preps anymore. You got all mad at me,” you confess blearily, letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. Hastily, you remove it and leave his arms, sure somebody will walk in the door at the least convenient second. 
A laugh sings from his lips as he follows you, winding an arm around your waist. His lips are soft against your cheek, the stubble framing it becoming normal to you by now, although a scratchy nuisance. Now, he’s made his way to stand in front of you, blocking you from the packs of Crayola markers you were eyeing up for a project. 
“‘m sorry I got mad, okay? Jus’ had loads o’ stuff t’ get done, knew I shouldn’t have snapped at ya, tho.’ I regret it now . . . . Will ya forgive me?” he begs, sticking out his bottom lip, making him even more irresistible and delectable. Shiny curls fall over his forehead from his mousy hair that’s shorter on the sides after his recent cut. 
After checking the door, you surprise his lips with an all-forgiving smooch, welcomed by the bitter taste of black coffee on his lips. Like always, it draws to an end far too soon, and this time by the tinny ringing of the first bell. 
“Betta get goin’, bird. Don’ wanna be late,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. A short yelp escapes your lips when his hand squeezes your ass before he saunters off after another kiss. 
“Harry,” you mutter, shaking your head, squeezing his hand briefly before you enter the halls together. 
Although you’ve become accustomed to it, it still feels strange to slide on another mask once you step into the halls. Sometimes even the school. You feel them and you know they’re there, the stares from the students. The rumors buzzed around the beginning of the year about you and Harry, but with his help, they never got to you. Neither of you have ever confirmed anything to anybody, and luckily you haven’t had to so far, even amidst the continuing rumors. 
Nonetheless, you still share with the other the stories of your students teasing the both of you about dating the other. You only fed the fire when you dressed up together for Halloween, or when your classes often combined together in the computer lab or library, or on the rare occasions, they have a large Jeopardy game or group project together. More often than you like to admit, you get carried away and entertain the freedom that would come with being able to say ‘yes’ to your students when they ask if you’re together. That would only call for one occasion, though. One that is quite far down the future road. As your eyes wander along Harry, a couple months in and you can’t deny that this isn’t just another boyfriend. No siree. 
“What d’ya got on tha agenda t’day, love? Ya startin’ anythin’ befo’ break?” he asks you, pulling you from your reverie, probably for the best. 
“No, we’re wrapping up the unit this week before testing next Monday on the last day. The Scarlet Letter, Frankenstein, Grammar Do’s and Don’ts, and the Transcendentalist Writers,” you explain, folding your hands together and letting them fall to the waist of your long wine-colored dress. Dark tights hug your legs, but the spotty heating inside of the school makes you miss the black cardigan sitting at your desk. 
“Mmm, same here. ‘s a good day t’ do it, can’t really introduce anythin’ befo’ Christmas Break. They’ll all forget it by tha time they return in two weeks. We jus’ have a chapta left in most classes: Hemingway, To Kill A Mockingbird, Huck. Finn, and Robert Frost,” he comments, hands hidden away in his slacks. Often you’re grateful for it, the removal of the temptation for you. Then again, it tempts your eyes that like to dance across the tightness of his slacks, but you quickly avert them.
“That’s good, only three more school days counting today, and one more until my observation,” you huff, finding it arduous to keep the nerves surrounding the event at bay. 
“You’ll do fine, love, I keep tellin’ ya that. Ya gotta believe me one o’ these times,” Harry coos, coming to a stop when you round the corner, your classrooms only a few steps away. To your surprise, his long fingers spread warmth across your skin with a pat to your arm, a rare one at that. “Have a good day, don’ let tha kids get t’ ya yet. Only a few days left. ‘ll talk t’ ya later.”
“Thanks, I hope you have a good day too,” you echo, containing the smile you send him halfheartedly, always careful about how you act towards each other around students. He winks at you quickly before turning away with that delightful smile playing around his lips, making you wonder how long again until you can kiss them. 
*
His luscious curls make your fingers itch to touch them, but as you linger in your doorway watching him, you know that you’ll have to wait. After biding your time for a few seconds for the students to leave him after receiving help, with a mental shrug you decide you’ll wait. Soon, you find yourself in the office. Colleagues meander around the room, the secretary speaks on the phone, and a parent or two or waits for them. After a few smiles and greetings, you arrive at your mailbox. First, you pluck the bag of Bit-O-Honeys from your pocket, sticking them in his box with a note already taped to them. After fishing out the few papers sitting in there, your hand brushes against something on the bottom, but you don’t see anything when you look again. With a quirked brow, you stand on your tippy toes, spotting a lime green Post-It note stuck to the bottom piece of wood. A smile quickly consumes your face as you pluck it from there, sticking it to the first paper on top of your pile, not wanting to raise any kind of suspicion. You and Harry do your best to be extra careful, not wanting to give anybody a reason to pry, and by now you’re both positive nobody has any true reason to doubt your story. 
Your heels dig into the sides of your feet after your long day, making you quicken your pace back to your classroom. The frown creasing your features is soon replaced with that grin from before when you turn into your classroom, finally taking a peek at the note. 
Birdy- 
You’re not very good at this whole Christmas list thing, are you? I’m still wondering what you’d like. Mind helping a silly old man out before the holiday rolls around? I hope your day is going swell. Don’t hesitate to come and say hi during prep, you know you’re always welcome. You’re the best kind of distraction, you’re just a little too good at it sometimes ;) You’re looking too gorgeous in that dress today, and so I’ll need you to stop by so I can give you a proper snog in private, pronto. 
Harry xxxx
P.S. - Homemade pizza sounds lovely, I can’t wait. You spoil me (: 
P.P.S - You have no idea how much you mean to me, bird xo
“Verdict on tha possibility o’ that snog?” somebody murmurs, their voice followed by the soft whoosh of your door closing. To no surprise, Harry leans against the door unable to hold back the happiness showing on his face. 
“I think it’s a yes,” you answer slowly, placing the stack of things on your desk, but not moving an inch. You want to toy with him and make him work for it, but as always, you can’t resist him. 
“How was yer day?” he mumbles once your arms come around his middle, brushing against the knit sweater vest. Sometimes he dresses like older colleagues and other days like his young age, but nonetheless you can’t help but think he’s the best dressed of any male teachers here at the school. He’s just too goddamn handsome that he can pull off anything.
“Good, we finished all of our readings in my classes. I get to be observed doing review tomorrow, so I hope the observer likes my Jeopardy games,” you comment, slipping your hands under the fabric, feeling the warmth projected from his body. 
“‘m sure they will, love, ‘s a good idea ya came up with. I know it took loads o’ work doin’ four o’ ‘em fer tha four different classes ya have throughout tha day. What time ‘s yer observation, ya neva said?”
“It’s during my fourth hour, before lunch,” you answer, him humming a short reply. “You really think I look that nice in this dress? I thought I looked frumpy and too tall,” you question, pursing your lips as you take a look at your long plain dress. 
“Yes, think ya look amazin’, bird. Couldn’t keep my eyes off o’ ya all day wheneva I saw ya. Yer gonna make me slip up one o’ these times, and make me blow our cover,” Harry snickers, stepping forward to sink his fingers into your hair, a thumb falling to address your cheek. A knowing smirk tempts your lips, and it only worsens when his tongue comes out to run over his. “Think ya know that already, tho’ - y’know what ya do t’ me, dontcha?” 
You silently shake your head, but the smile makes an appearance, and your lie is free to the air. His breathy laugh mingles with it before he takes them away, scooping your top lip between his. His kisses fill you with a warm giddiness, one that leads your hands to leave his strong back, and wander down him. Juice from the orange he must have just eaten trickles onto your lips, meanwhile your fingers dip into his pants, just brushing the top of his clothed bum. 
Harry breaks the kiss suddenly, but you’re already giggling. So far, all you receive is an eyebrow raise from him, but his toasty hands don’t leave your cheeks. His gleaming rose lips part, “What’d I say ‘bout those hands o’ yers? Lookie here, they’re gettin’ you in trouble ‘gain,” he tuts, your left cheek soon cold as he wags a finger at you. 
“You never said I couldn’t, and your bum just looks so nice today- well, every day,” you counter, feeling cheeky. His eyes dart from yours as blush rises to his cheeks, pulling up the corners of his mouth along with it. 
“Bird,” he giggles, eyes soon returning to yours. “I dunno what ‘m gonna do with you,” he coos gently, cupping your cheek once more with his long fingers, returning his lips to yours for a kiss. His smile is felt upon yours and you find out why when his tongue prods at your lips, begging for entrance. As your hand slides down to caress his bum, your lips part to let him in. 
Day after day, you wonder just when it was that you let him into your heart, seeing how he’s made a home in there. You just hope he’ll never want to leave. More and more often lately, you keep thinking that you’d like him to stay there, perhaps for forever. 
With chattering teeth and a frozen nose, you only start to warm up once you unlock the door to your room, grateful to get to spend the upcoming weekend inside your cozy home. Thoughts of the cute knit hats Harry wears and how he finds you adorable with your rosy cheeks and button nose pull your eyes to his door. Sighing, you unwrap your scarf, discovering he hasn’t came in yet this morning. Yet another thing to add to his list of acting odd lately at times. Even though you spoke to him through a few texts this morning, you long to hear his voice comfort you about your dreaded observation later today. Unbeknownst to you, he has this magical quality to him that never fails to calm you down, or to make things better. Yet another thing you love about him, you think with a smile, unloading your messenger bag of the materials you bring back and forth from school. 
Once that’s all unpacked and you remember to turn on the lights, as well as the blinking Christmas lights strewn around your room, you get an idea. Pushing his door open, you pull on the gold metal chain of his lamp, your hands drifting to the green Post-Its. The pen slides from your fingers when somebody surprises you with a loud ‘boo!’
“Harry, stop,” you giggle, briefly glancing to the doorway to find him in his puffy black coat. 
“Would ya look at that, I caught ya in tha act. It won’t be much o’ a surprise now,” he titters, softly closing the door behind himself, the hallways beginning to abate their previous silence. 
Shrugging, you pick the pen back up and start to scribble down a note while you still have a few precious seconds left. Smirking, you release your lip you bite on to speak, “I got here before you today, that’s a point for me. I think we’re three-two now for this week,” you tease him, listening to the slushy scuffle of his leather boots along the floor. 
“Ya, I hadda busy mornin’, had sumthin’ important t’ do. Can ya guess what it was?” he murmurs, appearing behind you suddenly, his cheek rubbing against yours softly. A long ‘sure’ falls from your lips, but it comes up short when you think about the sensation of his cheek against your face. It’s smooth and warm, and not hairy. 
“Wait a minute,” you announce, pulling away from him and turning around in his chair to look at him. Seconds after your jaw dropped to your chest, your hand flies to your mouth at the sight of him freshly shaven. “Harry, your face!” For the first time, you finally get to see his dimples on full display, collapsing into his round smiling cheeks. A long giggle escapes them as he runs a hand over them. 
“What d’ya think o’ me all clean shaven? Haven’t seen me without a beard, have ya, bird?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow as a cocky smirk creases his pink cheeks. Within seconds, you’re on your feet and feeling his satiny cheeks under your palms. 
“They’re so smooth, I like them. You look so nice, well I liked you before with a beard too. You’re so handsome either way,” you croon, leaning in to kiss him, tasting the spearmint toothpaste he uses. Your lips wander to his cupid’s bow, the slope below his bottom lip, and across the expanses of his grinning cheeks. 
“Stop,” he giggles, his hands finding a home on your waist, but he’s hard to believe as he leans into your lips. “Don’t think I look weird or less handsome without a beard, d’ya now?”
“No, you never could. Mmmm, I like kissing all over your cheeks,” you hum in between kisses, the musky smell of his shaving cream tickling at your nose. 
“Thanks, bird, ‘m glad t’ hear that. Now, lemme read dis note ya left, ‘m curious now.”
Much to your disappointment, his face soon leaves the clutches of your kisses, him trailing to his desk. Although whining at his absence, you let him, and instead you admire his adorable cheeks. It takes everything inside of you to hold yourself back from pinching them and kissing them. Hints of denial and shock come over you again, unsure of what you’re seeing at times. Never in the last seven-ish months since you truly met Harry, have you seen him without his beard. It’s kind of startling, but you know that he has you wrapped around his finger as well, because it unmistakingly makes you love him even more. Sometimes you wonder how that’s possible, even if you’ve only been official for a few months. 
“Why the change?” you wonder aloud, eyes glued to him as his scan over the note you didn’t get to finish. Lifting his glowing eyes to you, those greens stare back at you, and again you’re knocked off your feet by him. 
“Why not,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, holding up the note. “Ya didn’t finish, y’know. Ya started t’ declare yer love fer me and all that jazz, and it ended in tha middle o’ a sentence. Not very proper fer an English teacher, y’know,” he pouts, dragging his feet over to you after his sarcastic words. 
“Well, you didn’t let me finish,” you reply, surrounding his middle once he’s in reach. 
“D’ya care t’?” he whispers against your mouth, his lips ghosting over yours. This man really does know what he’s doing. 
“No thanks, I’m not a ‘put me on the spot’ type of gal.”
“Ah, you aren’t, are ya? Tha’s a new one,” he grins, laying kisses to your cold cheeks, spreading warmth in his trail. 
“Maybe you could tell me something, though.”
“Hmm?” he hums, the feeling of his smooth skin rubbing against yours entirely new to you, but you think you could get used to it. 
“Could you tell me that I’m worrying about my observation for nothing?”
His kisses come to an unnecessary end, but in the end you’re grateful to see his green eyes again, and all of the love they hold. 
“Ya are worryin’ ‘bout it fer nuthin’, bird. Promise ya yer gonna do great, ‘m so proud o’ you and tha great teacher ya’ve become,” he coos above you, tapping his finger to your nose. The words settle inside of you and begin to sink in. “And ‘m not jus’ sayin’ that, hope ya know how much I mean it.” 
*
You tried, and failed, to keep Harry’s words at the front of your mind throughout your day. When the worries would bubble up, you’d try to make them go away with his reassuring voice saying them. At times, it was strenuous, and quickly the idea of eating lunch after your observation seemed ridiculous. That word seemed to align with your day soon, seeing as the powerpoint for Jeopardy wouldn’t work at first, but you blamed the projector. Then as the minutes ticked by and brought you closer and closer to eleven o’clock, shakes started to radiate throughout your body. Your hands grew clammy and you wish it was over with before it even started. 
Your students for British Literature soon shuffled in, dropping backpacks on the floor with groans, itching for Christmas Break to come as well. You can’t help but agree with them, reminding them of this once they’re all seated and the last bell has rung. Inside your chest, your heart feels like it’s trying to break free from its cage as you anticipate a random colleague walking through your door. 
“Hello, everybody. We finished reading Frankenstein yesterday, and to prepare for our test on Monday, we’re going to do some review. I know you all have come to enjoy my Jeopardy games, so I made one for Frank and-,” your introduction to your class is cut off by a knock on your classroom door, making your heart jump inside your chest. “Excuse me, let me just get that first.” With a deep breath, you hurry to get the door, and that breath goes flying out the window when you see who’s on the other side. His name falls from your lips at the sight of him, a clipboard hugged to his chest. 
“Hi, ‘m here t’ observe you fer tha duration o’ yer lesson,” Harry announces, a professionalism coming over his voice, yet a cheekiness is heard at the edge of it. 
“You’re observing me?” you ask breathlessly, earning a proud nod from him. “O-okay.”
“Yer gonna do great, don’ worry ‘bout me. Jus’ ignore me sittin’ in tha back,” he whispers, his warm smile holding more words than the both of you know he can say right now. After a squeeze to your arm, he slips past you into the classroom, flared maroon pants billowing behind him. “Hullo, e’rybody. ‘m Mr. Styles from across tha hall, I also teach English here. Don’ mind me, ‘m jus’ observin’ yer lovely teacher fer a colleague review t’day. Carry on,” Harry says, addressing your class. Swallowing, the butterflies take a peek from their safety inside your chest, soon taking flight to rid you of your worries. 
“As I was saying, I made a Jeopardy game for Frank that we’ll play to review for the test on Monday,” you continue, folding your hands together to sit below your waist. You smile when the class erupts in applause, and even more so when your eyes flit to Harry whose found an empty desk at the back of the room. His head of curls lifts from being bent over the clipboard he writes on, sending you an encouraging wink. “So let’s take attendance to see how many there are of all of you, and I’ll split you up into teams. Then we can get started,” you finish, feeling his eyes on you. Although the pressure is still there, you feel at home in his presence and you don’t even mess up once during your lesson. 
Even if you had, you’re sure he could’ve fixed it with the winks, thumbs ups, and heart wrenching smiles he sends you from across the room.  
*
“So how did you manage observing me when you had a class during fourth, too? And how’d I do by the way?” you begin, wandering into Harry’s open classroom, the hallways almost empty after the end of the school day. Stopping in your tracks, confusion washes over you when the seat at his desk is empty. It would seem likely he had only stepped out, but it only gets weirder when his long coat isn’t found draped over his chair. “Okay then,” you mumble, returning to your classroom with questions blooming inside of you.
Thoughts are recalled in your mind about how odd Harry’s acted on a few occasions lately, namely his unusual disappearances after school. It’s hard to ignore as you work on the last few questions for the test for sophomore American Lit. You’re trying to think of questions from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, switching tracks after just focusing on Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self-Reliance. Although not news to you, you steal a glance across the hall at his classroom that still lays undisturbed, longing for his help with a good Whitman question. Soon, you find your phone in your hands, typing up a text to him asking him where he is, because you need his help. Before exiting your messages, the gray thought bubble appears with an ellipsis, indicating his typing. You wait for a response, but after close to a minute, you forget your phone on your desk nearby.
Giving up, your attention wanders to your staff email. You occupy your time answering a few parent emails, then some staff emails, and reading the important ones from the principal regarding Christmas Break. Your eyes grow far more tired at the sight of one from him about upcoming final exams in January, a time that seems far off from now. As a teacher now, you know that’s not true, and you always have to be ahead of the game. It’s yet another thing you want to rack Harry’s brain about, unsure of how to even create a final, and what to include on it. All you can think of is how much you despised final exams in high school and university, finding little worth in them. You know that you don’t want to be hard on your students, because a cumulative exam is difficult, and a regular exam already is as well. While your desktop plays Disney and Pixar piano instrumentals, your thoughts drift to the few teachers you had who made their final exam less intimidating. Whether it was a test on just the most recent unit you learned, the last book you read as a class, or something silly like throwing wadded up paper balls into the recycling from ten feet away. 
Quickly, they’re disturbed by the twinkling of your cell phone, buzzing along your desk. A budding warmth trickles into your limbs when you see on it the goofy picture of Harry from a day at the beach last summer. New freckles covering his tanned skin, and all pink sunglasses donning his eyes. 
“Hey, where’d you escape to?” you answer casually, dragging your mouse over to pause your music, coming across a song from the movie Up. 
“Oh erm, had t’ run a quick errand. ‘m on me way back tho’, so what’re ya doin’?” Harry replies, clearing his throat which he never does, only when he’s nervous. You try to listen into his voice closer, but you don’t hear anything else besides that, so you try to push it away. 
“Finishing up my Transcidentalism Writers test. I was wondering what would be a good question, in your opinion, from Whitman’s Song of Myself?” you pose to him, your other hand falling from your computer mouse to prop your chin up. 
“Hmmm, tha’s a good question,” he titters, another sound echoing his words, but you can’t make out what it is in the background. “Ya could do a question ‘bout tha theme o’ tha poem, examples o’ figurative language, or ya could have a short response question where they summarize tha poem in their own thoughts, I s’pose. Ya could even- Shhh,” he finishes. He only makes you grow more and more curious as to what’s going on, and why you hear a whine in response. 
“Who are you talking to?” you laugh, narrowing your eyes at the wall you stare at lazily while talking to him. 
“Oh nobody, nobody. Do those erm questions help? Ya like ‘em, bird?” he responds hastily, brushing the strange occurrence away. 
“Okay, whatever you say, and yeah they help. Thank you.”
“Welcome. ‘m almost t’ me classroom, so ‘ll see ya soon, kay?”
“Okay,” you tell him before he hangs up. 
Yawning, you turn back to your computer and quickly write down those ideas in a Notepad document before you forget them. You’re in the middle of typing up the idea for a short response question when there’s a knock at your classroom door. Turning your head, you don’t see anybody at first, so you revert your attention back to your typing. 
“Yeah, who’s there? Harry, is that you?” you reply, your fingers dancing along the keyboard swiftly. 
“No, ‘s me,” Harry’s voice replies, but it’s distorted to sound different from his. It’s more high-pitched, very near to that of a child. Giggling, you look back over to your doorway to find a surprise. “Hi, ‘m a puppy. ‘m a Golden Retriever mix. I jus’ got adopted by me new daddy, Harry.”
“Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, hands flying to your mouth at the most adorable sight indeed. Held in Harry’s two hands, a tan Golden puppy is suspended in the air in your doorway. His tiny furry body squirms in your boyfriend’s hands, a short yip leaving his little mouth. “Harry!” you cry, rooted to your spot. Another exclamation leaves your lips when a yawn leaves the little puppy’s mouth, and then again when his long wagging tail enters your view. 
“‘m only eight weeks and daddy jus’ go’mme, so I don’ have a name yet, but ‘s nice t’ meet you. Me daddy ‘s thinkin’ o’ namin’ me Gatsby afta his favourite book. Whoops, I wasn’t s’posed t’ tell ya that, daddy says ya were s’posed t’ guess that on yer own. Anyways, my daddy and I wanted t’ ask you if ya’ll be my new mummy? He was also wonderin’ if ya wanted t’ come an’ live with us, since daddy told me yer lease ‘s up soon. I dunno what dat ‘s, but what d’ya say? I know we’d have loads o’ fun togetha, and ‘m jus’ so darn cute!” Harry continues in his child-like voice, speaking for the new puppy. Tears soon blur your eyes, but you blink them away quickly so as to not lose sight of the irresistible puppy. 
“Harry!” you cry, getting to your feet and dashing in your heels to the doorway, finding him bringing the puppy to his chest. 
“Hi, birdy. I see ya’ve met me new puppy, or . . our new puppy,” he smirks before you, hitting you with another wave of emotions at his darling words. “Sorry, I didn’t tell ya ‘bout him sooner. This ‘s what’s been takin’ up all me time dis week, and it all happened so fast. Wanted t’ surprise ya, and I think ‘s safe t’ say I have,” he chuckles, removing a hand from around the puppy’s pink belly to wipe the tears from under your eyes. 
“It’s okay. Oh my goodness, look at him,” you almost whine in that voice you use around babies, bringing your hands to his fluffy fur. He turns his head towards you and his tiny black nose wiggles as he sniffs at the air around you. “Hi, little guy. Can I be your new mummy, is that okay with you?”
“‘Course it ‘s, was kinda bettin’ on it. Knew ya’d be a good mummy . . . Wish I could bring him t’ school on Monday, but my sista said she’d take him fer tha day,” Harry coos, lifting your head with his voice. One of those big crinkly-eye smiles claims his face, disappearing from view when he presses a kiss to your lips. Your lips move with his, fingers getting lost in his hair, but it’s over quickly when you start to hear barking below you. “Heeeeey, ‘s okay, li’l guy. I can kiss mummy, if I want t’. What d’ya think, Gatbsy, hmmm? Mummy said she’d make us pizzas t’morrow. Already turnin’ out t’ be a good mummy, isn’t she now?” 
Laughs coat the both of your lips as he lifts the puppy into the air for the both of you to look at. They echo throughout the room when Gatsby wiggles in his arms, moving his gangly legs wildly as if trying to swim through the air. 
“Oh, Harry,” you sigh, encircling his middle with your arms. The puppy returns to his side, and his left arm wanders to around your shoulders. His lips are cold against your forehead when they press a smooch there. You can’t help but to laugh again when the puppy inches over to you, sniffing all over you, long arms dangling over Harry’s. He reaches your face and begins to lick kisses along your cheeks, soon crawling into your arms with Harry’s help. 
“I think he likes his new mummy, I can’t blame him.”
“Oh I love him already,” you confess, losing your fingers in his long fur around his face, ears flopping all over the place. “And his daddy,” you blurt out, widening your wet eyes once the words escape your lips. Glancing over to Harry, somehow that smile has grown even larger, adorned by a fresh wash of pink along his cheeks. 
“You love me?” he murmurs slowly, hand soft against your shoulder, pressing you to his chest. You pause, unsure of how to read his reaction, but the sudden doubt falls away. You’re nodding before the words come, and you already see the effect they have on him. 
“Yeah, I know it’s only been a few months, but I do . . I love you, Harry,” you divulge, clutching the puppy to your chest who still spills kisses along your face and neck, licking up the tears that run down your cheeks. 
“I think he’s gonna hafta contain himself and gimme a turn kissing his mum . . ‘coz I love ya too, birdy, so much,” Harry hums, the smile leaking into his voice. You can even taste it on your lips when his touch yours, massaging yours gently, the smooth feeling of his skin still a surprise to you. 
“And, Harry?” you whisper, his eyes falling to yours, mumbling a question in response. “I’d love to move in with the two of you . . my boys,” you finally answer, watching the smile hike further up his cheeks. His delightful giggle surrounds you and soon a sweet yipping followed by puppy kisses to the both of your happy faces. 
Yeah, you could get used to this, all of it. 
127 notes · View notes
Note
Hey so you mentioned in a story that Dakota gets heartburn a lot 👀👀 could you please please write one more instance? Like in a birthday party or sumthin
Here you go, lovely anon! 
There’s actually no puking in this because the story went in a different direction. I know I said I was going to include emeto but....
If you do want some pukey Dakota in the future then feel free to send a request. 
--------------------------------------
The bed’s wooden framed creaked as Dakota and Blair fell onto the mattress. Well, it was more like Blair shoving her boyfriend onto the bed than anything. She crawled on top of him with a playful smile and began kissing his stubble-covered jaw. Outside the bedroom door, the heavy bass of music drowned out any sound they might make. Like a moan.
Dakota did moan beneath Blair’s lips but not for the reason you might think. The sudden experience of being pushed onto his back caused the contents of Dakota’s stomach to slosh up his esophagus. It burned for a moment before a different type of heat took over.
He kissed Blair back, enjoying the way her hands snaked under his shirt. She obviously thought his moaning was caused by something else. They never intended to do this, especially not at someone’s else house, but the empty rooms upstairs were too inviting. Both of them were drunk because it was Shawn’s birthday party after all.
Dakota should have known that tequila coupled with lime and salt shots would set off a fire in his chest. He knew that alcohol was often the culprit for his heartburn, and then sucking the acidic fruit was just asking for it. He moaned again, feeling something rise in his throat, and then broke away from the kiss. He needed to get off his back or the burning sensation would continue to crawl up higher in his chest.
Dakota let out a long exhale and sat up on the bed with Blair still in his lap. Once upright, a deep belch erupted form his mouth which he tried to blow away from Blair’s face. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his chest. The discomfort was quickly sobering him up and he didn’t like it one bit.
“You alright?” Blair asked, with her arms around his neck. “Heartburn?”
Dakota nodded while grimacing. He tried swallowing the buildup of saliva in his mouth, but it felt like there was a lump in his throat. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I need to stand up for a second.”
Blair quickly got off his lap. “Maybe some fresh air will help.”
Heeding Blair suggestion, the two of them fixed themselves before leaving the bedroom. Blair was only slightly disappointed that nothing happened, but she soon got over that upon seeing the unease in Dakota’s face. She hoped they could find Shawn or Mateo and ask for an antacid.
The bedroom door no longer muffled the sound of voices and music. They walked through the house, trying to get to the backdoor while dodging ping pong balls and drunken partiers. Shawn definitely knew how to throw a birthday celebration.
Speaking of Shawn, before the couple could make it to a less crowded area, they ran into none other than the birthday boy. He was calmer than Blair expected him to be, but the scent clinging to him soon explained why.
“Yo Kota, Blair,” Shawn greeted them. He dragged out Blair’s name and gave her a goofy smile. “Havin’ fun I hope.”
“Yeah,” Blair said, slightly distracted. “Hey, Shawn, where’s Mateo?” She wanted to ask Shawn for help, but he seemed more that slightly distracted. His drooping eyes told her that Mateo would probably be the better person to ask.
“Uhh in the kitchen maybe?” He scratched his head, pointed to the ceiling, then walked away without another word.
Dakota and Blair exchanged glances. “Okay then…” Dakota said hesitantly. “Let’s hope he’s right because it’s getting worse.”
Thankfully, Shawn’s hunch was correct because Mateo was indeed in the kitchen. He was cleaning up empty cups and discarded cans. He smiled at them when they entered. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”
“Not so great,” Blair admitted. “Please tell me you have tums or something.”
Mateo thought for a moment, checked some cupboards, then turned back to them with a pink bottle in hand. “Will Pepto do?”
Dakota nodded as enthusiastically as you’d expect for someone with acid bubbling in their belly. “I’ll take anything.”
Normally Dakota would drink it straight from the bottle. He’d gotten pretty good at judging how much he needed. In this case however, he wasn’t about to take a shot of someone’s else medication.
Ironically, after Dakota’s insistence, Mateo poured the thick pink liquid into a red solo cup, so it really was like taking a shot…if that shot took fifty years to slide to your mouth. Regardless, Dakota was glad to have something to extinguish the flames in his chest.
“I hope that helps,” Mateo said. “Now, I have to go and find my very drunk and stoned boyfriend before he hurts himself. We’ll probably be needing that Pepto tomorrow.”
Dakota and Blair thanked him. Despite the chaos in the house, Mateo seemed to be relaxed, or at least having a good time. The first time they met him, Mateo didn’t speak much, but it seemed that dating Shawn was making him more outgoing.
Blair grabbed Dakota’s hand and they went outside to the front yard where it was quieter than out back. They sat on the stone steps leading up to the door. It was a cool night, so they snuggled up next to each other.
“Is it working? Blair asked. “Are you feeling better?”
Dakota held up his finger and swallowed thickly before burping into his fist. It was a long, chesty burp, but he sighed afterwards. “Getting there.”
“Good.” She put her head on his shoulder. With her long nails, she drew circles on his leg.
The music was once again muffled to where they could barely hear it. They could however hear crickets hiding in the bushes. Dakota exhaled while looking up at the night sky. “I feel old.”
Blair actually laughed out loud. “Why?”
“Did you see Shawn back there? I miss that,” he admitted while shaking his head. “Now I can’t even have a few drinks without my stomach acting up.”
“I’ll admit, we don’t party like we used to. But he is only two years younger than us.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Besides,” Blair said with a shy smile. “I don’t mind slowing down as long as it’s with you.”  
Dakota smiled. He leaned in to kiss Blair but the moment was ruined by another belch that hit the back of his throat. “Sorry,” he said, feeling his ears go red. He let his head fall onto her shoulder and buried his face in the fabric of her shirt. “I can’t fucking win tonight.”
27 notes · View notes
Text
In the Garden - HenryCavillxReader
I was requested by a darling anon to write a little sumthin, sumthin based on that Henry video. You know the one. He’s sitting in the garden with Kal, talking about the importance of peace. He’s got this beautiful spray of bedhead and this sexy, low morning voice. 
I hope I did this request justice! Please let me know if you’ve got anything else you’d like to see from me! 
Word Count: 1,165
CW: none - literally ALL FLUFF
The sky was an incredible shade of gray with the tiniest hint of blue. You are sitting in a patio chair. Your phone is by a mug of tea on the table next to you. There is complete silence as you take a deep breath and look around. Slowly, the sky turns from gray/blue, to purple, to a pinky-orange, finally to a bright blue. You sip from your mug as you look around and evaluate all the various things happening in your life. The garden is one of your favorite places to take extended moments of rest and contemplation. The same is true for your favorite human - your husband, Henry. You can hear him moving about in the kitchen and moments later, the backdoor opens. Out he comes with his large Akita, Kal, who immediately takes off into the grass. 
“Good morning, beautiful,” Henry says to you, his voice low and gravely with sleep. You smile sleepily up at him. He leans down to kiss you. The prominent stubble around his lips scratches your skin.. 
“Good morning, husband,” you reply. He’s holding two mugs in his hands. He glances down into the one on the table, then sets one he’s holding down in front of you. “Thank you,” you murmur, picking up the new mug and taking a sip of the contents. “God, you always make the tea better than I do,” you complain, after swallowing that first sip. Henry chuckles, taking a sip from his own mug.
“That’s because I know what I’m doing,” he replies. “I’m British. We know tea,” he winks and you snort. “How long have you been awake?” he asks. You sigh and take in your husbands appearance. He’s wearing his favorite teal hoodie, dark grey sweatpants, and house shoes, with his dark curly hair falling in crazy waves around his head. It’s grown out quite a bit since the last time you saw it and so has the stubble that you felt when he kissed you. 
“Since 4:30,” you rub your eye with your knuckle. You can hear Henry take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. 
“You should have woken me up,” he states. You open your eyes and smile gently at him. 
“You looked so peaceful,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” you explain. “Besides, you’re the one that hasn’t slept in basically six months,” Henry scoffs.
“Y/n, being woken up by the most beautiful woman in the world would not be a disturbance in the slightest,” he says. You smirk at him over the rim of your mug. Kal sneezes out in the yard and both of you turn to look at him. Henry takes another deep breath in and slowly lets it out again. “How are you feeling?” he asks. Now it’s your turn to take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. 
“Tired,” you say, which is both a joke and the truth. You’ve been exhausted for a while and it’s slowly starting to take its toll on you. Henry gives you a concerned look. 
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks, but you shake your head no. 
“Unless you can find a way to spontaneously take over for me,” you reply. Your hands naturally fall down to your stomach which used to be flat and taught, but now bulges with life. You were approximately in the middle of your second trimester or, about five months pregnant. Henry’s gaze drops to your stomach as well and you see a warm smile pull at his lips. 
“When do you have to go in for reshoots?” you ask him. Slowly, he pulls his gaze up from your growing belly to your eyes and grimaces. 
“I don’t know yet,” he says with a furrowed brow. “But if they do happen, I’ll be back in Hungary,” he explains. Another sneeze from Kal makes you laugh. You look back to Henry. 
“How are you feeling?” you return the question. Henry doesn’t look directly at you for a moment, then he looks straight into your eyes. 
“Excited, nervous,” he says, a smile spreading across his face the entire time. “The happiest I think I’ve ever been in my entire life,” you feel tears forming behind your eyes. Stupid hormones. You smile warmly at him before laughing as Kal sneezes for a third time. Henry leans in his chair to check on his hound. Satisfied with what is going on, he turns his attention back to you and notices your tears. “What’s wrong?” he asks, suddenly concerned. 
“Nothing, just hormones,” you say, sniffling a little. Your hands rub your stomach gently. 
“Come here,” Henry requests. You oblige, slowly pushing yourself up from your chair and walking around the patio table to where Henry is sitting. When you’re near, he tugs gently on your hand, pulling you down onto his lap. He places one hand on the small of your back and the other gently on your belly. “What are you thinking about?” he asks you quietly. 
“I’m thinking that I really miss coffee,” you reply and your whole body shakes as Henry bellows with laughter. “What are you thinking about?” you ask in return, smiling at him. He smiles back. 
“I’m thinking that you have never looked more beautiful than you do now,” he murmurs and you snort. 
“Oh yeah, the constant burping, chronic dry skin, and systemic vomiting are super attractive,” you reply sardonically. Henry nods in agreement. 
“Incredibly attractive,” he murmurs, kissing the warm skin of your neck. His hand softly strokes your belly. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in the peaceful sounds of the morning. And Kal. He’s rummaging around the yard, huffing, sneezing, and running about. After a while, you and Henry begin to discuss plans for the day. You need to get work done on an assignment and Henry has to get ready for meetings with his publicist. Neither of you move, however. You stay sitting in your husband's lap, talking about baby names, nursery updates, work, family, and anything else you can think of. You lean your head in and press it gently against Henry’s forehead and take a deep breath in. 
“Can I just stay here forever?” you murmur and Henry chuckles. 
“I think I can arrange something,” he replies. You shift upward as he moves his legs to dig in his pocket for his phone. Finding it, he begins texting someone with the one hand. The other stays cupping your belly. Moments later, he chuckles and sets his phone down. “Well, I can’t make forever happen, but I can certainly make sure we are here until tomorrow. Is that okay?” he asks. You smile and wrap your arms around his thick shoulders. 
“24-hours of peace and quiet with my husband?” you ask rhetorically. “I can’t think of anything better,” Henry smiles as you pull him and kiss those plush lips that you love. 
78 notes · View notes
arthurmorgen · 4 years
Text
A Tale of Two Animals
Prompt: Modern au, where Arthur and reader are self quarantining with each other, and reader catches Arthur playing on her animal crossing island. - sarcasmwithasideofsass
A/N: I tried XD
Fluff
...
Admittedly, self quarantining hadn't been that bad of an experience for you. In fact, it made you feel more than a little guilty. That while you were cooking meals, binging Netflix, and cuddling with the love of your life. People were sick, losing their jobs, and even dying.
But the way the two of you were living, It was  your idea of paradise...that was until the both of you cleared out your Netflix queue.
Then things got a little rough. Arthur was a man of action, and not having anything to do had made him stir crazy. He was quicker to argue, and sometimes he’d say things without fully thinking them through.
He would always apologize profusely, even when it wasn’t necessary. You knew him, and knew that this was really hard on him. Besides, he never hurt you the way he always assumed he did. He was too hard on himself.
One time it was a little argument over a mug you loved. He had put in the dishwasher, when you’d always carefully hand wash the item.
He’d called it a ‘stupid mug’, and you, being locked up and slightly stir crazy yourself, started to tear up. He apologized on and off for the next hour, and promised to do the dishes for the next month.
A promise that so far he’d fulfilled.  
Then you made the grave mistake, one that you’d regret for the next TEN days, you turned it to a local PBS station and got Arthur obsessed with a damn ten-part horse documentary.
They were an hour and forty five minutes a piece. And it wasn’t really that the footage was so boring, it was the narration. The man’s voice was calming, almost too calming, and would put you to sleep within minutes. You’d awake to the sound of the man's voice only to find Arthur still enthralled.
Which, all of this didn’t sound like a big deal, but it threw off your sleep schedule. And when you're stuck inside, with nothing to watch, sleep becomes something you really looked forward to.
And so, it became his nightly ritual to eat his dinner, wash all the dishes, put on his oversized comfy lounge pants, and sprawl out on the couch to watch another episode of the documentary.
On the fourth night of the documentary you had reached your limit. You just could not take one more second of his old monotone voice, and you searched the internet for something to entertain you...or rather something that you could buy, you should say.
It was then you came upon the new Animal Crossing game. You had played it when you were younger and really enjoyed it, so without overthinking it you added it to your cart, paid a little extra for overnight shipping (you desperately needed it before tomorrow night), and purchased it.
After making sure you received your email receipt, you stood from the couch, stretched a little, and kissed Arthur on the top of his head.
He tore his eyes from the television and looked up at you. “You goin’ to bed so early?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling a little tired.”
He moved to stand but you gently pushed him back down. “Finish your show.” You bent down and kissed him lovingly on the mouth.
“I can pause it and save it for tomorrow.” His eyes twinkled with mischief and any other night you would have pulled him to the bedroom, but you were NOT prolonging your torture for another night.
“No! I mean no, I don’t really feel well. Kinda got a headache.”
He frowned and reached up to feel your forehead. “You need me to run to the store to get ya sumthin’?”
You smiled. “No, I’m fine, really just need some sleep.” You yawned trying to convince him.
You were apparently an ok actor. “Well alright. You let me know if you ain’t feelin’ good sweetheart.”
“I will, I promise.”
When he nodded satisfied with your answer, and pressed play,  you almost ran to your bedroom.
The next day you spent not so patiently waiting for your package. Just after you put away the sandwich stuff that you used to prepare lunch, you got the notification that it was delivered.
You ran to the door almost dropping your phone, and retrieved your small box. You ripped through the packaging and waited for it to load on your switch.
And just as Timmy and Tommy were welcoming you to the game, Arthur walked in hair wet and slicked back, wearing nothing but a towel. He smelled fresh and amazing, just as he always did.
“I thought I heard the door slam.”
“You did, it’s fine. I just got a package.” You didn’t look up as you were reading the instructions on the small screen. To be honest you didn’t want to get distracted, and before you was one hell of one.
He frightened you a little as he bent over you curious as to what you were doing.
“It’s just a little game that I wanted to play. Figured it would be a great time since I’m stuck here.”
Taking one look at the graphics you could tell he wanted to make fun of you by the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times.
You decided to stop him short, not wanting another stupid argument. “I played it when I was a kid. It's super nostalgic for me.”
His nod was one of understanding and thanks, glad that he didn’t start something from nothing.
And that’s the last you really paid attention to anything for hours, until he brought you a plate of hot tacos.
You looked up red eyed and confused. “What time is it?” You looked around for your phone.
He handed it to you and chuckled. “Goin’ on eight. Thought you might be hungry.”
You gave a playful pout as your stomach growled smelling the delicious looking food.
“Game must be really good.”
You nodded with a mouthful of taco. A little embarrassed that you ate half of it in one bite. But happy that he knew exactly how you liked yours prepared.
“What’s it about?”
You swallowed. “Eh, nothing really. You just kind of build things and help friends out”.
“Oh well, I’m glad you're having fun.” He said without any malice.
“Gosh Arthur these tacos are amazing.” You took another large bite.
He chuckled lightly “It’s like you say, things always taste better when you don’t make them.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t help. I know it’s been our thing since...”
He raised his hand in dismissal. “You cook all the time for me. It is the least I could do for you. ‘Sides you looked like you were really having a good time.”
Your face flushed slightly. Had he been watching you? You knew you did that thing where you bit your bottom lip when you concentrated. It made you a little self conscious, but he would have none of that.
“You sure are beautiful, you know that?” He gently moved a piece of hair from your forehead.
“Arthur…”
“I mean it. You’re absolutely perfect. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.” He shook his head in amazement.
You were at a loss for words so you replied with the only thing you knew he needed to hear. “I love you so much Arthur.”
He reached down and kissed you hard. Sometimes words weren’t enough for him. He was after all, a man of action.
Things were getting heated, your tacos forgotten, when an alarm started blaring.
You looked at him in a daze and giggled softly. “It’s time for your program.”
He slowly opened his eyes and sighed.  “Yep.”
He stared at you looking drugged by your beauty.
You smacked his arm playfully. “Watch your ponies.”
That sobbered him up. “They ain’t ‘ponies’ they are stallions and mustangs, and..”
“I’m joking.” You cut him short saving his lecture for later you were sure. “Hurry you're going to miss some of it.”
He turned the TV on, and you excitedly picked your game back up. So focused on it, you never heard a word the boring old man said.
It was late. Real late. You hadn’t played a game through the night since you were in high school. But as you admired your island, you felt that it was worth it.
You looked to the otherside of the couch and saw that Arthur hadn’t wanted to leave you. He was sprawled out breathing heavily, obviously deep in sleep.
The sun was rising and you thought it a better idea just to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyhow. You plugged your game in to charge and went to get a couple hours of sleep.
It was around lunch time when you awoke. You hated sleeping in but then again, where did you have to be?
After showering, and brushing your hair and teeth, you groggily made your way to make some coffee.
When you entered the hallway you heard your game. Worried that you had left it on you hurriedly entered the room, and to your surprise, were met with the sight of Arthur, brows furrowed, deep in concentration playing your game.
You smiled wickedly at the sight and cleared your throat loudly.
He jumped like he had just been shot and placed your game quickly on the coffee table. “Oh god! You scared me.” He placed his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.
You walked over to him slowly, hands on your hips, and tried your best to look angry. “Now what were you just doin’?”
“I, I…”
“You what?”
“I was just curious is all.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair.
“Curious?”
“Well, yeah. You were havin’ so much fun, I just wanted to see what it was about. Ya know?”
His voice sounded so innocent and his eyes looked so wide from shock. Arthur Morgan wasn't used to getting caught.
You really shouldn't do it but you couldn't help it, you started laughing. So hard that you actually had to bend over.
He stood up placing his hands on his hips. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up from all angles, and he actually attempted to look at you seriously.
Which, of course, made you laugh harder. So hard that tears started streaming down your face.
There was something about this large, handsome, intimidating man, sneaking your switch and waiting until you were asleep to play Animal Crossing. And then getting caught all while being extremely embarrassed about it.
Either he finally started to see the humor in it, or perhaps he got joy out of seeing you so happy, he too started to laugh.
He walked to you and hugged you tightly, then playfully threw you onto the couch. Neither of you stopped laughing for a while, not until your sides were splitting and you could take no more.
He nuzzled your neck. “I’m real sorry I played your game without permission.”
You briefly chuckled while stroking his muscular arm. “No you're not.” You whispered back.
“Alright, I’m sorry that I got caught.”
You both kept laughing until, still tired from the previous night, you fell asleep in each other's arms.
A loud alarm woke you both. You snatched his phone from the side table mercifully stopping the noise.
He mumbled. “Don’t worry it's recording.”
You sighed heavily.
21 notes · View notes
love-the-purple-cat · 4 years
Text
Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 4
He doesn’t seek her out during lunch that day.
He doesn’t see her the following day.
Nor the next.
It's as he's laying in bed, the third day of not seeing the girl quickly ticking away, the sound of Karin's footsteps as she sneaks out of the house, that he starts to wonder whether he truly hurt Cherī.
He tries to argue with himself that she doesn’t seem like the kind of girl that would easily get hurt by mere words, but then his traitorous mind brings up moments of his past and how he would get hurt by name-calling. Moments before and after his mother's death.
He turns to his side and thinks.
 -----------------
Tomorrow, Ichigo thinks to himself, the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by his sister’s footsteps, Tomorrow I will apologize.
------------------
It's only as he wakes up the following day that he remembers that it's a weekend, and he doesn’t know her phone number nor where she lives.
 -----------------
He manages to find her two days later during lunch.
He is standing near the girls’ bathroom when she exits it. She glances at his face, and whatever she sees there makes her walk past him.
“Cherī,” He calls out.
“Ya gonna apologize?”
He nods, but before he can do so, she speaks again.
“Lemme make sumthin’ clear. Ah don’t owe ya ma’ friendship, Ichigo, nor do ya owe me yers. Da other day ya really annoyed an' insulted me, an' Ah ain’t gonna pretend that that didn’t happen.”
He swallows. It was true, Cherī doesn’t owe him anything and he had accused her just because he misses his old norm.
(-The past should remain buried underneath soil and concrete-)
“I’m sorry.”
She huffs. “Ah accept yer apology, but don’t think Ah'll be forgettin' that anytime soon.” Which is fair.
“...Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”
“About what?”
“Whatever set ya off da other day, cuz Ah don’t think it was a joke.” At his silence, she continues, “Ya don’t have ta', ‘course. Ah'm just offerin' a listenin' ear fer yer problems.”
“...It's,” How could one describe what he had gone through? “...complicated.”
“Ah, ma' favourite word.” She says sarcastically. “Come on then, tell yer acquaintance Cherī what’s botherin’ ya.”
“Acquaintance? I thought we were friends?”
“Ichigo, if we count da days we’ve talked ta' each other - we've barely known each other fer a week an' yer insult certainly didn’t help matters. Ah don’t know about ya, but Ah at least wait until da first month is over ta' call someone a friend.”
He blinks at that. They certainly had different views on how long it took to become friends.
“So?” She prompts.
He leans against the wall and she mimics him. “Like I said, it's complicated.”
“Ya sure ‘bout that?” He looks at her puzzled.
“Yes.” Because what he went through was complicated, and not something he could just tell someone.
“Lemme give ya an example. A friend of mine used ta' date this guy fer, hmmm, 2 years. One day she finds out that he had been cheatin' on ‘er fer a while. An' she asks me, ‘What do Ah do?’. What do ya think?”
“I think she should have broken up with him.”
“Simple, ain’t it? Ah tell her that an' she says that she can’t ‘cuz she loved ‘im. Do ya know what word she used ta' describe her situation? Complicated. Did it sound complicated ta' ya? No. And ya know why? It's ‘cuz ya aren’t emotionally invested in da relationship. It’s ‘cuz ya aren’t da one in her place. It's ‘cuz ya had an outsider’s perspective an' could think clearly.”
The bell rings.
“Think ‘bout what Ah said. Just ‘cuz it's complicated fer ya, don’t mean it's complicated fer someone else.” She walks away.
Five steps away, she adds, “An’ sumtimes, ... Sumtimes it's easier ta' tell a stranger yer problems than yer friends ‘cuz the stranger won't gain anythin' from lyin' ta' ya.”
-The past is never dead-
(There are bodies buried underneath the soil and concrete.)
3 notes · View notes