#really it was a gathering of people who had spent the last few months locked in working on their graduation film and seeing noone

[tinyfishtits]

Need a Haircut, doll?

Micah Bell / Gender Neutral Reader

Photo by @red-dead-simp

Summary: Reader notices Micah's had a rough time since returning to camp and decides to pamper him with a haircut.

Word Count: 3,203 Rating: Teen and Up ~ for foul language Author's Note: Fluff and Flirting! I just want to pamper my boy 🥺

★ Read on AO3 ★ ☆ Masterlist ☆

It had only been a few days up at Clemons Point, but I already found myself falling in love with the place. The heartlands had their own charm, sure, but it was hard to beat the picturesque serenity of being by the water. Night was quickly approaching as I lounged on the shore, aimlessly sketching the pillowy clouds that reflected in the expansive mirror of water before me. The graphite lines didn’t do the sunset justice. 

The gravely earth at my back crunched with approaching steps and I turned to see who they belonged to. Micah Bell walked over to a tree a few yards away and leaned against it with a deep drawn out sigh. I’d only interacted with him a few times since he showed up at camp after the move, and even though the majority of the camp seemed to despise him… I kind of pitied him. 

He was obviously an outsider. Even though he played it off like he was a lone wolf I could tell he craved connection. Always provoking people, trying to get reactions out of those that would otherwise ignore him… I could only guess the kind of upbringing he had to have him put up so many defensive walls to keep people out.

Either unaware or just indifferent to my presence, he started grumbling about Mary Beth. I’d noticed her shoot him down on a few occasions, just like every other woman he flirted with. But today she’d really got to him. He was mumbling about her ‘damn smarmy romance books’ giving her all types of unattainable expectations. Upon further eavesdropping, I deduced that he had asked her to dance and been rejected. 

He reached for a stick at his feet and unsheathed his knife to start whittling away at it, still mumbling under his breath. The sun had dipped below the horizon at this point, bringing an end to my doodling. With the darkness came the cold. I hadn’t brought a jacket and the chilled breeze that wafted up from the water was already making me shiver. I wanted to head back to camp but, glancing over at Micah, I wondered if he’d be upset at me for eavesdropping on him… 

“Are you okay?” I broke the silence, which got a startled grunt from Micah as his head whipped around to me, still sitting on the ground, partially concealed by the large rock I leaned against. He gathered his composure quickly and hit me with one of his usual sleazy retorts. 

“Why darlin’? You wanna come over here and make me feel good ?” His southern drawl dragged on the last word. 

“Not as lewdly as you’re implyin'.” I said, getting up and walking over to him. From what I’d heard from the others, he’d been locked away awaiting the noose up in Strawberry until Arthur broke him out. Spent a month camping up in the mountains before showing his face back here earlier this week. All that time out in the wilderness was obvious on his appearance. His hair had grown out past his shoulders, the stubble on his chin threatened to turn his mustache into a full on beard, and his entire body was caked in layers of dirt and dust. Micah let out a low hum as he watched me inspect him. 

“I have somethin’ in mind” I finally said, to which his brows raised. His light blue eyes peeked out from the brim of his hat and I reached out to tip it up, revealing more of his face. He seemed wary at first, his body stiffening as I got closer to him, but he didn’t stop me. 

“Oh yeah?” He said, his tone attempting to reach its typical tinge of cockyness, but it came out a bit too breathy to accomplish it. After a hard swallow, he continued, “What did you have in mind, doll?”  I ran my fingers through a lock of hair that cascaded over his jaw and down to his collarbone. His eyes followed the movement and I could hear his breath hitch at the unexpected contact as my fingers brushed against the exposed skin on his chest.   

“That I could cut your hair.” I said, tugging lightly on the strand I was playing with. A laugh burst out of him and he seemed to regain his normal air of arrogance. 

“What makes you think I’d trust you with a blade by my neck?” He said, a grin plastered on his face. His stick and blade were forgotten at his side now and I took advantage of his distraction to slip the knife out of his hand and throw it quickly at the tree beside us. The blade landed snuggly, smack in the middle of the trunk with a satisfying ‘thud’. 

“Cause doll” I said, taking his hat off and placing it on my head, “If I wanted to kill ya, I would have done it already.” The corner of his mouth twitched up at that, and before he could come up with a retort I started off back to camp. “Meet me by the fire when you’re done strokin’ your stick!” I yelled back to him. A low chuckle rang out behind me as I walked away. 

I had always loved doing things for people. It was a gift and a curse. The feeling of helping somebody with a task big or small, taking a weight off their shoulders, surprising them with something they needed - that feeling was close to the best in the world. But it also meant I often found myself putting other people's needs and wants before my own. I would work myself into the ground if it meant someone else got to take a break, go above and beyond for the simplest tasks… and that’s how I found myself boiling water at the scout fire with the hope of giving a disgruntled outcast the best goddamn haircut he's ever had. 

“All this for me?” He said, sauntering over to the log I sat on and eying the various supplies I’d gathered for the task at hand; scissors, comb, powdered shampoo, towel and a pot of water. 

“Mmhm.” I hummed, starting to feel a bit embarrassed about all the effort I was going to. I kept my eyes on the fire as he sat beside me, holding the glass of shampoo in his hand. 

“You gonna give me a bath?” He asked. I could feel my cheeks flush at the implication and hoped the heat of the fire camouflaged it enough that he wouldn’t notice. 

“I was rather hopin’ you’d keep your clothes on for this.” I said, removing the small pot of water from the fire as the first bubbles started to spring to the surface. I dumped it into the larger pot of cool lake water I'd collected and dipped my hand in to test the temperature. It was warm enough that my skin reddened at the touch, but not too hot. “Perfect.” I continued, collecting the supplies in my arms and nodding at the pot of water, “Grab that and follow me.” 

I led him back down to the lake and had him set the water beside the large boulder I had rested against earlier. He waited patiently for me to set up my supplies. When I was ready, I patted the flat top of the boulder and motioned him over. “Okay, lie down.” I ordered. He glanced between me and the rock skeptically, but relented with a grunt and came over to sit on it. 

Standing behind him, I pulled him down by the shoulders to lay flush against the rock. “Scoot toward me so your head hangs off the edge a bit.” I said, tugging at his shoulders until he obeyed. 

“You sure are a bossy one ain't ya?” He said, to which I gave him a soft laugh in acknowledgement. With his head resting in my hands, I knelt down beside him, the vat of water nestled between my legs. Taking cup-fulls of the warm water, I began pouring them over his hair. I could feel him relax into my hand as I went. “Damn that feels good.” He admitted with a whistle. I laughed, he was so easily pleased. 

“Ain’t even got to the good part yet.” I said, sprinkling some powdered shampoo in his hair. It was my own stash, something I was gifted by an herbalist out in Cumberland Forest after I’d helped him find some sage, which is what the shampoo smelt of. I personally loved the scent, it wasn’t too floral or perfumy, it had a nice earthy musk about it that just felt so natural. 

The moment my fingers started massaging into his scalp he let out a gravely moan, followed by a string of expletives as my hands continued to travel around his head, kneading out the tension at the base of his skull. “ Fuck darlin’.” His voice came out in a whisper. I gave him a generous head massage, lathering his long hair far more than was really necessary. But the poor man seemed so peaceful for once, I wanted to make it last. 

I dipped a hand in the water between my legs, checking it hadn't gone cold before I rinsed his hair. Luckily it was still lukewarm. I slowly began washing the suds out of his hair, and with it an obscene amount of grime. Did this man sleep in the dirt? Once his hair was clean I bundled it up in my towel and gently wrung it out. Micah didn’t move a muscle or make a sound while I worked. 

Seeing as he was being so cooperative I decided to go ahead and comb through his hair before having him get up. Working as gently as possible with his - not so surprisingly -  tangled mess of hair, it took a good half hour to get it all smoothed out. He let out a few soft grunts during the process but was otherwise quiet. When I was finally done, I patted him on the shoulder and stood up. My legs tingled a bit having kneeled in an awkward position for almost an hour, but with a few testing stretches they calmed. 

I expected Micah to get up or at the very least say something, but he was completely still. I leaned over him and noticed he was dead asleep. His mouth hung crookedly agape and his eyes fluttered under his lids. I almost didn’t want to wake him, but I knew sleeping strewn out on a rock with his neck hung over the edge would be a bitch of a position to wake up in come morning. Still, I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it. 

It hit me then that I'd never actually seen him asleep before. I hadn’t seen him much anyway, sure, but the few days he’d been at camp I couldn’t recall one moment he had so much as shut his eyes. He was always moving, pacing around, polishing his guns, going off to smoke or widdle… but never sleep. He was the last one at the fire before I went to bed and the first up in the morning making coffee.

Without thinking, my hand reached out and lightly caressed his sleeping face. His skin was surprisingly smooth for how rough he appeared. My fingers traced along his thick blond facial hair, brushing down to the scar on his chin, just barely visible beneath the stubble. He looked so peaceful. His hand shot up suddenly and grabbed my wrist, holding it in place at his jaw. I let out a gasp at the quick movement. My eyes met his and he seemed to relax, realizing where he was, but he still kept a hold of me. 

“Sorry doll.” He said, his voice heavy with sleep. “Didn’t mean to startle ya.” The hand that gripped my wrist slid down into my palm and bought my knuckles up to meet his lips. He gave my hand a soft, scratchy kiss before sitting up with a groan and jumping off the rock to stretch his limbs.  I was taken back by how beautiful he was in the moonlight. 

His normally golden blonde hair was darkened with moisture, falling over his broad shoulders in shiny wisps. He was a nicely built man, the perfect inbetween of muscle and thickness. I could tell he was strong and sturdy, but soft as well. Not like Arthur or Charels who were mountains of men and muscle that towered above you and seemed like they could kill someone with a single punch. Michas strength was more subtle. Someone at first glance you’d think you could pretty easily take in a fight, but his quickness and dexterity would soon prove you wrong. 

“Are ya tired? I can cut your hair tomorrow if you’d rather go to bed.” I said, trying to shield the blush burning on my cheeks under the brim of his hat. He was silent for a moment before closing the distance between us and pushing the hat up with his thumb. 

“You offering to go to bed with me?” He smirked. My cheeks were on fire now and I was sure he could tell, as his smirk grew into a full on beaming smile. He let out a chuckle and tapped the brim of the hat so it sunk back down over my face. “I’m just messin with ya darlin’. Like seein ya get all red.” A part of me hoped he wasn't jokin’ around. The kiss he’d given my hand still tingled, and mixed with his flirtatious words I felt a warm churning in the pit of my stomach. 

I let out a sigh, trying to exhale the tension that was building up under my skin to no avail. “Sit down, would ya?” I gestured back to the rock beside us and he did as I asked. I brushed through his hair once more, evening it out. “How short ya want it?” I asked, taking the long strands that framed his face in my fingers. 

He hummed, his lids drooping the more I touched his hair. I took the ends of one strand between two fingers and held it up to him, about two inches of hair poking out at the ends. “That okay?” 

“As long as ya don't go cuttin’ all my hair off darlin’, it’s okay.” He said, closing his eyes and letting me work. I started snipping away at his hair, trimming it just enough that it still grazed his shoulders. The long look really fit him, though his features were sharp and strong enough I was sure he’d look just as good with a really short cut. 

“Have you always had long hair?” I asked. He hummed in thought for a moment. 

“No.” Was all he said, short and firm, like the topic wasn’t something he wanted to dip into. 

“Hm.” I said, and decided to push my luck. “Is this the longest your hair’s ever been?” He started to turn his head to look at me but I put a firm palm on his scalp and kept him in place. “Don’t move.” 

“Why so many questions?” He grunted. I didn’t answer at first, letting the silence around us fill with the rhythmic snipping of hair. 

“I’m just curious about ya is all. Seems the only thing anyone here knows about you is that you're an ass.” I admitted. 

“You been askin’ about me darlin’?” I could feel a grin stretch across his cheeks and circled around to face him. His smile softened as I got closer, my eyes flickering back and forth across his face as I lined up each side of his hair with my fingers to make sure they were even. I was so close to him I could feel his warm breath brush across my lips. 

“I- Um, I think that’s good.” I said, a little flustered by how close we were, my hands lingering in the hair on either side of his face. He reached up and took my wrists in his grasp, holding them in place. 

“Why you bein’ so nice to me?” He asked, his brow furrowing a bit as his steely blue eyes bored into mine. 

“Look who’s got all the questions now.” I said, trying to mask the breathlessness in my voice. He didn’t move, waiting for a genuine answer. “I- I’m nice to everyone, Micah. Why would I treat you any different?” This answer seemed to suffice and he let go of my wrists, standing up with a huff. Not that he’d ever admit it, but I got the feeling that he wanted me to be treating him different from the rest of the gang. 

The moon was a halo behind him as he stood an arms length away. He wasn’t as tall as the other men in camp, but he still had a few inches on me. He was dusted in loose strands of hair and I reached out tentatively to brush them off, approaching him more slowly than normal as he seemed to have a habit of gripping my wrists in reflex to any sudden movement. 

He let me approach, brushing my hands over his shoulders and chest to rid him of the scratchy remnants of hair. I circled him, making sure to get the hair that coated the back of his shirt. My hands lingered a bit as I brushed over the muscles on his back, feeling the dip between his shoulder blades and the tension so evident in the long muscles that stretched down from his neck. 

“You know, I’ve never seen ya sleep before today” I said, resting my hands on his back and feeling the deep breath he took. His body moved under my palms as he turned to face me, my hands now on his bare chest, unwilling to move away from his warmth. He locked eyes with me for a long moment, searching for words. I’d heard him say something along the lines of ‘sleep is for the weak’ before, and wondered if he would give me the same retort. 

“If ya keep touchin’ me like this, it may not be the last time.” He said, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. I smiled back at him, giving the furry skin of his chest a squeeze before I reached up and removed his hat from my head. I placed it onto his hair, cleaner now than I'm sure it’d ever been. Another breeze wafted up from the water and brushed through his hair, carrying the scent of sage to my nose. Having my smell on him sent its own chill down my spine, erupting in a burst of electricity between my legs. 

My mind went hazy with warmth as his eyes continued to burrow into my own. Not knowing what to say, I simply leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. I could feel his skin burn under my lips. “Night Micah.” Was all I said as I gathered my things and started off back to camp, leaving him blushing and still as a statue on the shore.

★ Read Chapter 2

[eastwindmlk]

For this month's @jilychallenge I have been partnered with @elliemarchetti with the prompt Person A is looking forward to an ice cream and person B takes the last one.

Did I stretch the prompt a little? Yes, but you will just need to squint to find it! This month also features Chaotic Sirius. 1804 words under the cut!

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Mary complained as Lily dragged her feet to the ‘guard station’ at the gate of the newest event that she’d dragged Mary to. 

Rolling her eyes, Lily stood in front of the temporary wooden structure and humoured her friend by posing for a picture that she would more than likely be flooded with somewhere in the coming week with copious attempts to cajole her into posting them. 

Which was something she was not quite comfortable with yet. Most of the people she worked with still had no idea this was how the star student spent her weekends. The few people who did find out had spotted her in photos posted by the events. 

It also turned out that one or two had actually seen her at the event itself, which made for good lunch break conversations. She’d learned a lot about historical costuming, and her watch and reading lists had grown exponentially. 

All things considered, she was quite happy with the way things had turned out. They were even going to meet a few of them on the grounds as soon as they had done the rounds and likely bought more than either of them intended to. 

“Are you disappointed there are no knights this time round?” Mary asked, while they strode down the path, locked arm in arm. Dodging sword handles and sweeping tails. The dusty palace paths were lined on one side by white canvas tents that held the shopkeepers, the other side with flower beds. 

Despite there being plenty of open space on the other side of those flowers, it felt more cramped than the other events they’d been to. 

The sun was burning far too hot for the early spring, but when she mentioned it to Mary, the weather gods decided to mock her. A sudden splash of rain instantly made everything mucky and humid. A photographer had cornered them, and she watched a Disney princess steal away the hand-bound diary she’d had her eye on in the meantime. It was when she was quite unceremoniously shoved aside by one of the Schuyler sisters while trying to buy another trinket for her dress that Lily decided she had enough. 

“Let’s go find the food,” she suggested in a tired tone, fanning herself as they tried to manoeuvre out of the tent. Wedged somewhere between drinking horns and bonnets made from scrap fabric while people perused the wears, all of them too absorbed in the to buy or not to buy to notice two women trying to get out. 

They followed the path to one of the paths, now a lot less dusty than before, down to one of the central hubs. Where they’d set up large tents with rows of tables and benches reminiscent of the mess hall at boarding school. 

Here the people that came to drink and be merry would gather almost as soon as the event opened. Now, you could see cliques of similarly dressed people raising horns and tankards with ale. Wave around large meat skewers and smell the wood-smoked salmon that Lily had looked forward to. 

“So, where do we start?” Mary asked, surveying the options, her hands at her sides and clearly far more ready to attack than the redhead. 

Lily pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, checking her coin purse, and wrinkled her nose in annoyance. “The coin place. I need to trade some money.” 

“You didn’t get any at the gate? Why?” Mary groaned, throwing her head back dramatically as she pulled her along to the little caravan. Or rather, the endless line of people who’d made the same mistake as Lily had. 

Huffing and puffing, the pair slowly made their way to the front, where she exchanged her very real pounds for carnival tokens. The whole while, the pair of them discussed where their journey of snacking should be starting. 

Only to throw the entire plan out of the window when they finally had said coins. They were both hot and grumpy, and there was only one thing that was going to fix this. 

Ice cream. 

It was hard to miss the fake pirate ship waving a flag with a cartoon ice cream cone in a pirate hat. So that was where they were heading. 

“I don’t know if the Jolly in Jolly Rodger meant chuffed, but I have decided that it does now,” Lily remarked, practically skipping to their net and jute awning to read the menu of The Skull and Cones Sundae shop. Both of them giggled at an impressive list of punny names and delicious-sounding specials. 

Watching a few people leave with a fish-shaped cone that was richly filled, they decided that was precisely what she wanted. “I don’t know what that is called, but I want one,” Mary decided with a nod as they joined the slow-moving line. 

One by one, they watched as the stack of fish-shaped cones disappeared. Much to their disappointment, they realized that they would likely only be able to get one once they would finally make it to the front of the line. 

This led to a disappointing bout of boulder, parchment, sheers, and then the pair of them decided to share the one they would get, and then they would let the person scooping pick a second for them. This way, both of them were happy and neither of them needed to decide. 

Both Lily and Mary too fixated on staring at the cone, believing, or rather hoping, that if they kept staring at it, the person in front of them would not do the unthinkable and snatch the last one away under their noses. 

So, naturally, that is just what happened. The person in front of them dressed in a green cape, a leather strappy contraption and, most bravely of all in this heat, a red scarf ordered and the last cone was carried away. 

Devastated, Lily’s eyes followed it to where a surprisingly familiar-looking brunette was working on constructing the intricate frozen treat. She blinked a couple of times and then she heard it. 

“Lily?” 

And immediately her head snapped to find the sound of her name. For a moment, her despair about being unable to have the treat she’d been hoping for melted away. “Hi,” she greeted him, breathless as usual. 

Honestly, it was just unfair at this point. For all intents and purposes, James should have looked ridiculous in his cartoonish get-up. She would not be surprised if it included the red and black striped trousers that seemed to come with every cheap Halloween version of a pirate. 

“I like your bandana,” she chuckled, watching him flick the shiny polyester cap with a wonky skull and crossbones printed on it. Unable to stop beaming while he flicked one of the tails dramatically, winking at Lily. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mary roll her eyes at the pair of them. “You work here now?” she asked, equal parts amused and impatient. 

“No, I am just wearing this because it looked fun,” James shot back without missing a beat, taking a deep breath. “How about I get you two something cold and then you can sneak around back in time for me to take a break? Saying the last bit a little louder, summoning Sirius from behind the curtain, wearing something even more outlandish. 

Something in the back of her mind told her that he was supposed to be a pirate called Patchy, not that she could quite remember why or where she might know the costume from. 

He sauntered up to the counter, pushing James away from the counter, and flashed a charming smile at them, fake gold tooth included. Somehow still looks beautiful under all that ridiculousness. “Arr, what can I do you lassies for?” Sirius asked, and both of them had to stifle a fit of giggles.

“Well, we wanted one of those shark cones, but you seem to be out,” Lily sighed as she fanned herself, looking at the menu just past him. “So, I suppose I’ll settle for whatever you recommend and how you went from knights to… This.” She motioned at their outfits. 

Rubbing their lips together, both James and Sirius peered around. Just double-checking that they really were out of the cones she mentioned. Frowning as they reached the same conclusions as they did. 

It was then that Sirius darted away, snatching the cone they’d watched being made for the lady in front of them, away just as Remus was handing it over. “So, sorry,” he told the very surprised woman. “Unfortunately, the Shark Attack Scooper is sold out. Can I offer you an alternative?”

Everyone blinked, looking intently at the cone in his hand and at the uncomprehending look on the woman’s face. “B-but you’re holding it,” she stammered, confused, and started reaching out for it only to have Sirius hold it away further from her and hand it to James, who stood behind him.

“My deepest apologies, ma’am, but I must insist that you select something else,” he pressed. His tone was polite, but it absolutely suggested that there was no room for discussion. 

The only thing that was keeping this from turning into a ping-pong of yesses and nos was that Sirius was keeping up an impressive display of firm, but polite hospitality. Which was more impressive, considering he did just steal her order away from right under her nose.

Before they could get too engrossed, James snapped them out of the near childish back and forth. “Come on,” he said, nodding his head towards the back. The mysterious behind-the-scenes Lily had been dying to see. 

They manoeuvred through the guy lines of the awning, dodging miscellaneous parts of a pirate ship and skipped over a pair of crates to where James was waiting for them. Holding his hand out to help Lily over.

Both were a little too distracted with each other to notice that Mary was still struggling to get to meet them. He pulled her closer, already leaning down to claim the kiss that had become the way they greeted each other. Every one of them is better than the first one. 

Lily couldn’t help but wonder when the unwillingness to part after the hunger for another kiss would turn to a hunger for more. Or rather, when this hunger would finally consume her. The heat from the early afternoon sun rivalled by the heat his touch ignited in her. 

When their greeting was interrupted by Mary taking the cone from his hand and sneaking past them. “Don’t mind me, I am just taking this before it melts like Lily’s dignity,” she stage-whispered, shooting her friend a wink. 

And just like that, Lily still missed out on her ice cream. 

[sleepsucks]

[meg-moira]

The Witch Who Spoke to the Wind

Sequel to Eindred and the Witch

In which Severin, the golden eyed witch, learns that his greatest enemy and truest love is fated to kill him.

-

-

Dealing in prophecies is a dubious work. Anyone who knows anything will tell you as much.

“Think of all of time as a grand tapestry,” his great-grandmother had said, elbow deep in scalding water. Her hands were tomato red, and Severin watched with wide golden eyes as she kneaded and stretched pale curds in the basin. “You might be so privileged to understand a single weave, but unless you go following all surrounding threads, and the threads around those threads, and so on - which, mind you, no human can do - you’ll never understand the picture.”

Severin, who was ten years old and had never seen a grand tapestry, looked at the cheese in the basin and asked if his great-grandmother could make the analogy about that instead.

“No,” she replied. “Time is a tapestry. Cheese is just cheese.”

And that was that.

By fifteen, Severin who was all arms, legs, and untamable black hair, decided he hated prophecies more than anything in the world. He occupied himself instead with long walks atop the white bluffs well beyond his family’s home. Outside, he could look at birds, and talk to the wind, and not think about the terrible prophecy which followed him like a shadow.

His second eldest sister had revealed it - accidentally, of course. Severin lived in a warm and bustling house with his great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, two aunts, and three sisters. All of whom were generously gifted in the art of foretelling (a messy business, each would say if asked), and every one of them had seen Severin’s same bleak thread.

He would die. Willingly stabbed through the heart by his greatest enemy and truest love.

Willingly. That was the worst part, he thought.

Severin, who had no talent in the way of prophecies, but plenty of talent in the realm of wind and sky, marched along the well-worn trail, static sparking around his fingertips as the brackish sea breeze nipped consolingly at his face and hair.

I will protect you if you ask me to, it blustered, and Severin was comforted.

He didn’t care who this foretold stranger was. When this enemy-lover appeared, Severin would ask the wind to pick them up and take them far, far away. Far enough that they could never harm him. The wind whistled in agreement. And so it was settled.

At seventeen, he was still all arms and legs, though his eldest sister had managed to tame his hair with a respectably sharp pair of shears. The wind, who had delighted in playing with his wild, tangled locks, did not thank her for it. Severin did thank her; in fact, he’d asked her to do it. He was of the opinion that his newly shorn hair made him look older - more sophisticated. And he left his family home with a new cloak draping his shoulders and a knotted wooden walking stick in hand, thinking himself very nearly a man. He was far from it, of course. But there was no telling him that.

He set out on a clear, cool morning to find his own way in the world, and was prepared to thoroughly deal with anyone who so much as dared to act ever so slightly in the manner of enemy or lover.

He discovered, soon enough, that this was not a practical attitude to take when venturing into the world. Severin spent his first months away from home making little in the way of friends and plenty in the way of thoroughly baffled enemies.

When you meet his gaze, you’ll know, the wind chided as it whisked in and out of his hood.

“His?” Severin said aloud, lifting a single dark brow. “Do you know something I don’t?”

The wind whistled noncommittally in answer.

The wind did know something, as it turned out. At twenty, Severin stood on the warm, sun-loved planks of a dock. As gulls cried overhead, he pressed his fingers to his lips. The young sailor had touched his lips to Severin’s in a swift, carefree kiss before departing on the sea. And though the feeling was pleasant enough, Severin knew that his enemy-lover was not on the great ship cleaving a path through the cerulean waves.

“When I meet his gaze, I’ll know,” Severin said, golden eyes sweeping the horizon. The seaward breeze blustered in such agreement that the gulls overhead cried out in alarm.

What will you do? The wind asked, delighting in whipping the gulls into a proper frenzy.

“Get rid of him, of course,” Severin replied.

What if you don’t want to?

Severin thought that was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “He’s going to stab me through the heart. Why in the world wouldn’t I want to get rid of him?”

People are foolish, the wind answered, shrugging the nearby sails.

“Not me.” Severin leaned on his stick and looked out at the sea. “I won’t let anyone get away with stabbing my heart.”

When he was twenty-two, Severin knelt at the bedside of a withered, wilting woman. She was a stranger, but the town’s herb witch was away, and Severin happened to be passing through. Though his true strength would always remain with the wind and the sky, the youngest of Severin’s two aunts had a special way with plants, and she’d taught him a fair bit about the many healing properties of the region’s hardy, windblown flora.

He boiled water, adding the few herbs he carried to make a rejuvenating tea. He helped the woman drink, his hand supporting her head and fingers tangling in her sweat drenched hair. After, he pressed a cool cloth to her head, and in the half dark room, she murmured, sharing delirious fears that she would accidentally speak cruel dying words and lay a curse upon him.

Kindly stroking her forehead, Severin assured her that he was not afraid of curses. Even uttered by the dying, a true curse was rarer than the superstitious soldier’s and barbarians liked to believe. Besides, she wasn’t going to die. Severin, who’d seen just enough of the world to have a taste of wisdom, was certain he could save her.

She died within the day.

Whether her condition had been beyond help, or Severin lacked the skills to twist the herbs to his bidding, he would never know. The wind rustled reassurances through the sparsely-leaved trees, but Severin was beyond consolation. Clouds gathered on the horizon, and by nightfall, great branches of lightning crackled across the sky.

He spent the next year and a half in the wilds. Beneath the jubilant light of the sun, he collected plants, acquainting himself with the earth. And beneath the soft, watchful light of the moon, he whispered to the wind and dared to wonder at the shape of his enemy-lover’s face. He could never seem to summon the slightest picture in his mind. Though it really didn’t matter, he supposed. Their eyes would meet, and Severin would know. And then he’d use all of the power at his disposal to send his enemy-lover away.

During this time, Severin sometimes saw bands of barbaric warriors crossing the plains. He kept his distance, but he doubted any of them were interested in either recruiting or killing a scrawny young man in a worn woolen cloak. Few he encountered ever suspected he had any great abilities, and Severin certainly didn’t go out of his way to advertise the fact that he could command the wind and sky when he wished. The barbaric companies had their eyes on more obviously lucrative targets, anyway. A handful of city states which spread across the great peninsula were openly at war with the barbaric tribes from the north.

It was when Severin was returning from his self-imposed isolation that he had his first real encounter with war. He held his sturdy walking stick in hand and carried a bursting bag of herbs, poultices, and leather-bound journals over his shoulder. Severin was so surprised by the sudden, brutal clash of metal and the primal cries that erupted nearby that he halted where he stood. His curiosity both outweighed and outlasted his fear, and after a minute or two of tense consideration, he pressed cautiously onward in the direction of the noise.

By the time he arrived, the battle was done.

It had surely been an ugly, bloody affair, if the splayed out bodies of the city soldiers and barbaric warriors were anything to judge it by. Holding a hand over his mouth, Severin gingerly navigated the carnage and valiantly resisted the impulse to be sick right there in the field. He was nearly on the other side of it when movement caught his eye. Squinting, almost afraid to look, he glanced from the corners of his eyes, sure that it was some grotesque remnant of warfare which awaited him.

Instead, it was a man.

Just a man.

The movement Severin had spotted was the rise and fall of his chest.

Only after turning a careful look around the terrible and silent battlefield did Severin approach the fallen man.

The barbarian’s eyes were closed and his pale brows drew together, as if reflecting pain. His face would probably have been handsome in a rough, simple sort of way if it weren’t smeared in dirt and blood. His light hair, braided and pulled away from his face, was bloodied as well, and Severin frowned at the sorry state of him. After a second wary look around, he knelt with a sigh.

The barbarian’s leather vest was cut, and his thick, scarred arms had earned several new slices as well. Severin, who had more than enough herbs and poultices on hand, reluctantly tore his only spare shirt into bandages. Within the hour the stranger was fully bandaged and muttering in fever addled sleep.

“Don’t worry,” Severin murmured, knotting the last makeshift bandage. “I’ve learned enough from the plants and trees to save you from both fever and infection.”

Behind closed lids, the barbarian’s eyes flitted anxiously to and fro and he mumbled something that sounded like no. Nose wrinkling, Severin leaned in. He heard the sleeping barbarian say, his voice low and cracking, “The curses will take me.”

Severin frowned down at him, unimpressed. “No they won’t,” he snapped, and yanked the bandage tighter.

The barbarian silenced then, and Severin stared at him a moment longer, pursing his lips in consternation. It wasn’t that he minded using his supplies to heal a stranger. But a part of him worried that healing a warrior made Severin responsible for whatever slaughter he resumed when he rose.

Severin abhorred warfare. It was such a terrible waste. But he supposed there was no helping what he’d already done. The barbarian was already on his way to recovery, and Severin certainly wasn’t going to murder him in his sleep. He reached out, intending to test the temperature at the man’s temple, but no sooner had Severin’s fingers touched his overheated skin than the world bled around him. In its place: a vision.

Shock echoed through him, because he was not like the women in his family, able to see phantoms in time. He’d always simply played with the air. The vision dancing before his gaze, however, didn’t seem to care.

Like droplets of ink spreading in water, a prism of colors twisted, threading together into nearly tangible shapes. From the chaos, rose a blond child holding a knit sheep. He was ruddy cheeked and pouting up at his mother. Then ink and water swirled and the images collapsed and shifted. Hulking shadows loomed over the child. The mother wailed her grief. The formless ink shivered, morphing from one scene to the next, nearly too quickly to follow, and Severin was swallowed up in it, overrun and overwhelmed by violence, blood, and pain. Beneath his fingers, Severin felt the movement of shifting, slipping thread.

Just as abruptly as it had started, the vision ceased. Severin’s knees ached where they pressed against the dirt and the barbarian’s skin beneath his hand was no longer overheated. How long had he been within the vision’s grasp, he wondered?

As Severin shifted back, the barbarian groaned. Severin watched as the man’s eyelids fluttered - and at once, the air turned heavy, as if the wind had drawn and held an anticipatory breath.

Dread flooded Severin and he rushed to stand. The barbarian had not yet opened his eyes, and Severin knew with a terrible nameless certainty that he must not be here when this man awoke. Severin could still feel those elusive, unknowable threads beneath his fingers, and his hands shook as he rose. Awakened by his urgency, the wind roared, lending him speed as he fled the clearing.

By the time the barbarian cracked open a single, world weary eye, Severin was long gone, heart still safely beating in his chest.

Severin endeavored to forget about the barbarian. He convinced himself that the vision had been the hallucination of an overexerted body, and that the sensation of inexorably moving threads beneath his fingers was nothing more than a flight of fancy. Severin did not think about how the threads had felt - certain and unyielding - beneath his fragile, very mortal hands. If he did, he feared he might ask the wind to whisk him away from the world altogether, and that, surely, was no way to live.

In a deep, secret place, however, Severin suspected the reason he was granted such a vision was because the stranger’s thread was woven perilously close to his own. Because of this, he set upon an easterly road, endeavoring to put a healthy distance between himself and the pale barbarian.

After nearly a month of travel, he arrived in a small village which sat nestled in foothills, tucked beneath the shadows of great mountains which stood like sentinels above. Severin hadn’t intended to stay, but when it was discovered he had some skill with plants and medicine, the villagers eagerly led him to a hut some distance from the village. It was empty, they explained, and had been for some years. A healing woman had occupied it, some years back, before she’d passed on. The villagers had been saving it, hoping the space would be enough to entice a new healer to make their isolated village a home.

Severin had nowhere else to go, and he supposed a distant, mountain village was as good a place as any to avoid a blade to the heart.

Two years passed, and Severin settled into his little hut. He spent his mornings taking long walks around the surrounding lands, collecting herbs and specimens. Returning home, he’d throw open the windows to allow his friend the wind a brief but wild rampage through the hut. With the air freshened, Severin spread plants across his square dining table and sorted them into jars to be sealed, dried, or preserved in vinegar. His neighbors in the village visited frequently, just as often for his company as for his medicines, and Severin delighted in visiting the town on market days and making the streamers dance in the wind for the children. Evenings were spent in his rocking chair, with a book in his lap and his feet pressed near to the low fire in the hearth.

He was happy, and hardly thought of the barbarian he’d found bleeding in the dirt. That is, until fate caught up with him.

One day, when he was foraging for moss on the hillside behind his hut, Severin felt the whisper-soft touch of thread against his palm. He sat upright at once, and turning and craning his neck, he absently rubbed his palms against his robes.

A company marched into the village. From up on Severin’s hill, they appeared a swarm of ants overtaking the miniature thatched roof homes. The slipping, shivering feeling beneath Severin’s palm intensified, and he stood. His heart drummed a frantic beat against his ribs, and Severin felt with a terrible certainty that fate, like a hunting hound on the scent, had sniffed him out at last.

When Severin called out, begging the wind’s help, it rushed to him, howling atop the hill.

I am here. I am here.

Cradled in the gale, he begged the wind to take him and hide him away, so that the tapestry’s relentless threads might cease dragging him toward the one he never wished to meet.

So be it, the wind said. If that is truly what you wish, I will take you and hide you away forever.

In that moment, nearly caught as he was, Severin was willing to do anything to avoid meeting this man who would kill him - until the screams rose from the pastures in the valley beneath his hut. Severin’s heartbeat was in his throat, on his very tongue, as he held up a hand to stay the wind.

“Just a moment,” he murmured, and turned bright, pained eyes toward the village. The terrified screams of his neighbors pierced him as surely as any blade, and with a mournful twist of his fingers, he bade the wind disperse.

By the time he reached in the pastures, the shepherd, the blacksmith, and Helvia’s two sons lay dead. At the sight of his friend’s bodies, grief and rage stirred within Severin, and the wind, always nearby to him, trembled in sympathy. Gaze sweeping the warriors, he marked the five whose weapons were stained red. Severin was not violent by nature, but if he was to die this day, he resolved to remove from the earth at least these five men, who with bloodied blades, uncaringly spoke of feasting upon the village’s few precious sheep.

When the warriors turned and finally noticed Severin, he lifted his chin and prayed his voice did not betray his fear. “These are simple people. They have little in way of money or goods. It wasn’t for nothing that the shepherd, blacksmith, and teenagers died. They need these sheep. And I cannot allow you to take them.”

The men glanced at one another, eyes filling with a cruel sort of mirth. They laughed at him, and Severin steeled himself for what must come next. He was friends with the wind, but to call down the heavens was an entirely more serious matter. And he’d never done it. At least, not like this.

Severin turned his palms up and glared at the heavens, daring them to refuse him now when he needed them most.

For a long, terrible moment, nothing happened.

And then, the skies erupted.

He had never felt pure, visceral power in such a way, and as it whined and crackled, Severin, with splayed fingers, used all of his strength to tear the lightning from its home in the sky. It rained upon the warriors, screaming in wild, untamable fury. Severin watched the men cry out in agony, and he felt horror and satisfaction in equal measure.

When a single figure broke from the group, agile enough to evade the lightning and charge across the field, Severin could only look on in exhausted realization. It was the pale barbarian. The man from the battlefield. The child in the vision.

The barbarian charged like a beast, his thickly braided hair bouncing. His brows were drawn down in focus and his lips poised on the precipice of a snarl. It was with a hopeless sense of finality that Severin met the stranger’s gaze.

He met eyes of icy gray, the color of hazy, snow capped mountains in winter, and Severin knew, he knew with a certainty that was sunken into his bones and twisted in his marrow, that this barbarian was the shadow which had haunted him. And he knew, more than anything, the crude blade in the man’s scarred-knuckle hand was fate’s exclamation point at the end of Severin’s ephemeral existence.

Watching as the barbarian pivoted, drawing back his blade, Severin only wished he understood why the women in his family had persisted in calling this man Severin’s truest love. If this was love, the man had a spectacularly terrible way of showing it.

Time slowed to a crawl, and sunlight flashed, reflecting off the blade. As the jagged edge touched the fabric of Severin’s robe, the wind whispered at his ear. Let me show you a piece of the picture.

The wind around him froze, and so too did the world.

Look up, said the wind, a rustle within his ear.

Severin did.

The complexly woven image was shaped by currents in the air - all but invisible to any whose eyes are untrained to look for them. But Severin had a born understanding of the wind and sky, and when he looked up, he saw bits and pieces of an impossibly complex tapestry.

He saw scarred knuckles gently shaping wood. A small child that sat upon broad shoulders. Rocking chairs placed side by side before a glowing fire. Warm hands enveloping his own. Safety. Home.

It was...everything, and Severin’s heart ached with a strange and complex longing for a future that surely could never be.

It’s not impossible, the wind whispered. But the threads will have to tangle and untangle just perfectly so.

“How?” Severin asked, and wondered if he was a fool to feel so desperate a pull towards this life glimpsed in impressions and half images.

The warrior must weep and repent. And a curse must come to fruition.

“And if these things do not happen?”

Then your soul will fade from the earth.

Severin felt torn in two.

The blade has not yet struck your heart, the wind murmured, kind and conspiratorial. There is time still for me to secret you away. I could pull your thread from the tapestry altogether.

“But there would be no hope for that life,” Severin said with a last wistful glance at the scattered mosaic above.

No, none, the wind agreed.

“Okay,” Severin whispered, “okay.” And it felt terrifyingly like surrender.

The wind stirred, and a breeze like a kiss tousled his dark hair.

The blade struck.

It was an intense pressure and then swift, vibrantly blooming pain. Severin wavered on his feet, and looked up. For the second time, he met the warrior’s gaze. And Severin saw and understood that there was no malice in those wintry eyes. Not even frustration or anger. But, instead, an exhaustion deeper than Severin could conceive.

When Severin toppled backward, it was concerning to realize he could no longer feel the grass beneath his body. The man knelt down, and Severin blinked tiredly up at him.

It seemed as though the man were waiting for something. Severin’s slipping mind struggled to think of what - until he recalled the dying woman and her talk of curses. And hadn’t the barbarian said something about curses when he was fever addled and hurt? What had the wind said? Severin was struggling to remember. As his life trickled away in red rivulets which stained the grass and soil, he thought of the boy in the vision - lost and afraid. And he thought of the man he’d become, kneeling stonily over him.

And Severin knew exactly which words should be his last.

Swallowing, he mustered the strength to whisper, “-my hut…it’s just past…the next hill over. In it, I keep medicines and herbs. For the villagers. And travelers who pass.”

For the barbarian would have to stay if he were ever to show remorse. He couldn’t very well continue going about fighting and murdering his way across the peninsula. Which brought Severin to his final words. It took all of his remaining strength to lift his hand. When he reached out, the barbarian startled, as though he expected more lightning to spring forth from Severin’s fingers. But Severin merely tapped his chest and smiled. “May you live a life of safety and peace.”

It was a fitting curse, he thought, feeling particularly clever. And there, on the field, surrounded by sheep, Severin’s heart stuttered and stopped.

It was an abrupt, slipping sensation, like losing your footing on iced over earth. Raw existence rushed around Severin, and he was battered and blown about, like a banner torn loose in the storm. This continued for a dizzying moment, or perhaps a dizzying eternity - Severin really had no way of knowing which. But it stopped when a familiar presence surged around him, blowing and blustering until the wild chaos of existence was forced to let him be.

The wind could not protect him forever, Severin knew, and so he focused his energies until, like a wind sprite, he swirled about the hillside. Below him, he saw the barbarian, his great head bent. Severin, as incorporeal as a breeze, could not resist blustering over the barbarian’s shoulder and observing himself, limp and pitiful in death. Whipping around, he beheld the barbarian - because surely this sight would bring him at least to the verge of tears.

The barbarian frowned down at Severin’s body and rubbed a scarred hand over the patches of stubble on his chin. And then he rose with a great sigh and set off down the hillside, away from Severin and the village.

Severin, who was nothing more than wind and spirit, watched him and despaired. He could do nothing more than whip and howl through the hills as his murderer left him without a backward glance.

Months passed.

Severin did not follow after the barbarian. What good would it do? In this form, it wasn’t as though Severin could speak to him. And if he was doomed to fade and dissolve from existence, he would much rather do so here in the hills he loved than in some strange land trailing after an even stranger man. The wind kept him company, at least, and Severin spent his days whistling through the black, porous stones at the base of the mountains and blowing bits of dandelions across wild tufts of grass.

One day, long after Severin had begun to feel more spread out and thin than was entirely comfortable, the wind rushed to him, carrying with it the scent of dust and dirt and faraway lands.

The barbarian had returned.

Severin was an icy breeze that whipped around the edges of town, and he watched with cool distrust as the man trudged through the streets. His shoulders were slumped and his blond head was turned down. He looked utterly defeated, and any sympathy Severin might have felt was eclipsed by petty spite. He didn’t hold any of the pettiness against himself, though. He was dead, and therefore felt he’d earned at least a little pettiness.

When the barbarian crossed the field, stopping to stand before the place where Severin had fallen, Severin swirled around him, newly curious. The man didn’t look grief stricken, but his face was difficult to read. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and lines of exhaustion around his mouth. Mostly, Severin thought he just looked tired.

When the man approached Severin’s home after having ignored the invitation for months, Severin had a second moment of pettiness and whipped the wind up on the other side of the door, sealing it closed as the barbarian tried to open it. Only when the man shoved it with his great, muscled shoulder did Severin retreat, allowing the door to swing open.

It was with a strange sort of melancholy that he watched the barbarian’s silver gaze sweep over the room. The man looked first at the damp, unkempt hearth before slowly making his way across the room. He glanced from Severin’s well-loved walking stick to the bookshelf built into the wall. He fumblingly ran the backs of his fingers along the spines of the books, as if he was unlearned in the ways of a gentle touch.

Severin was still very much put out about the whole being dead business, but as he watched the barbarian’s almost reverent inspection, he unthinkingly twisted the air in the room, drawing out the cold and pulling in a bit of sun warmed breeze.

By the second day, the man was sitting in Severin’s chair. Severin stewed, swatting at floating dust by the window as his killer rocked to and fro in Severin’s favorite seat. Later, the barbarian stood, stretching his strong arms overhead and twisted his back experimentally. Brows lifting in pleasant surprise, he gave the chair an appreciative pat.

By the third day, Severin had no more dust to swat about. The barbarian had rolled up his ragged sleeves and set about scrubbing every inch of Severin’s little hut. When the hulking man worked open the stiff windows, the wind rushed in, delighting in whipping about the space once more.

He’s done a better job of cleaning than you ever did, the wind sang, slipping once more outside.

He was dead and that meant the wind had to be nice, and Severin told it as much. It’s reply was a soft rustling of chimes that hung from the house’s eaves, and the sound was almost like laughter.

Days passed, and the man began reading Severin’s books. This was probably the most surprising development yet, in Severin’s opinion. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought the large, scarred warrior capable of reading, just - well, he hadn’t thought the large, scarred warrior capable of reading particularly well. But the man seemed to be doing just fine, and sat in Severin’s rocking chair, putting a far greater strain on the sturdy wood than Severin ever had, as he thumbed carefully through the book’s smooth pages.

When little Mykela took ill, Severin knew it well before anyone else. He’d taken a spin through town and as he rode the wintry wind past where she played in the yard, he’d felt the rattle of air in her lungs. But at this point, Severin was little more than a memory on the breeze, and though his worry was agony, he could do absolutely nothing. He spent the rest of the day roaring about the mountain peaks, sending snow flurries spilling down the far side of the cliffs.

Two days later, Severin was idly observing the barbarian, watching the crease between his brows twitch as he slept, when a great pounding broke out against the door. The barbarian rose at once, and Severin watched him cast a brief glance at the walking stick before turning instead to the candle on a nearby shelf. With warm light cupped in his palm, the barbarian approached the door.

When Dormund, Mykela’s father, entered the hut, carrying a limp mound of blankets, Severin felt a spike of icy terror. As the barbarian poked and prodded the fire, Severin carefully stirred the wind to better feed the flames. Severin would have shouted instructions, had he lungs to shout, but the barbarian already had two jars in hand. He held them up, looking a little lost, before he hurried to the bookshelf and selected a thick book. Muttering under his breath, he flipped hurriedly through pages until he found what he was looking for. And then he was kneeling before the pot of water he’d set over the fire, and Severin watched as he scooped careful measurements of Severin’s dried herbs into the roiling water.

Mykela was saved, and as the barbarian sent the girl and her father off with a bag of herbs, it occurred to Severin that he wished to know the barbarian’s name. He wouldn’t learn it until two days later, when Old Cara arrived at the hut, seeking the barbarian’s help for her arthritic knee. After supplying her with the appropriate poultice, the barbarian helped her to the door, and looking up, she patted his shoulder and asked him his name.

Eindred, was his answer.

Eindred.

Severin wished he had lips to test the shape of the name.

Months passed, and was easier now to watch Eindred move about Severin’s hut. In fact, Severin had even begun to enjoy riding the soft breeze from the windows as it wafted around Eindred’s shoulders, curiously observing whatever small thing he happened to, at any given time, be doing with his hands. One day, Severin was surprised to find Eindred’s hands at work, deliberately whittling the curved back of a rocking chair. When the chair was done, Eindred set it carefully, almost reverently beside the first. At the sight, Severin had a bright, nearly overwhelming flash of recognition, and he thought of the image the wind had shown him - of the rocking chairs before a warm, crackling fire.

Severin was fading, he could feel it. To hope was to court a greater disappointment than Severin could rightly comprehend, and yet - he watched Eindred set out with Severin’s walking stick to join the festival, and saw when Mykela took his hand. The barbarian’s stony expression softened, then melted as the girl tugged him after her.

It was the strangest of sensations, because while Severin didn’t strictly have a heart these days, watching the great Eindred meekly follow little Mykela made something in Severin’s incorporeal being ache with unexpected warmth.

Whatsmore, Eindred had been reading Severin’s journals and he would sometimes stop and stare about the hut, as if trying to picture the ghost of Severin’s life there. Once, Eindred draped a thick blanket over the back of one of the rocking chairs and ran his rough hands over it as he frowned contemplatively into the fire.

Summer had come and gone and Severin feared that parts of his soul had already begun to slip into that other-place. And so, with a tender sort of weariness, he drifted on the sunbeams cutting through the clean window glass, and watched with only mild annoyance as Eindred carefully tore a blank page from one of Severin’s journals.

Lips pressing together in focus, Eindred wrote in with small, precise letters, what appeared to be a list.

Confused, Severin drifted closer.

May your every loved one die screaming in pain.

I hope you die with your eyes stabbed out and your heart in your hands.

You will never know happiness.

Your existence will be suffering.

It was a list of curses, Severin realized. Morbid curses, by the looks of it. The last two, however, caught his attention.

May your greatest enemy rise from the grave and never leave you alone.

And,

May you live a life of safety and peace.

And Severin understood.

When Eindred set out from the hut, looking drawn but resolved, Severin began at once to gather his energy. It had been nearly a year since his death, and he feared that there might not be enough of him left to make a return. The second to last curse would help things along, but Severin knew it would be a mistake to rely on it.

And so, as Eindred entered the village, Severin stretched upward and out, calling wind and storm clouds with reckless, hopeful abandon. For his entire life, Severin had lived, certain in the knowledge that love and happiness were not meant for one such as he. How could they be? When a blade was foretold to make a home in his heart?

But Eindred had changed. And the patchwork pieces of tapestry were there, a life Severin had never dared to dream of, right there - if he could only summon the strength to reach out and grasp it.

Below, Eindred bowed his head before the townsfolk, confessing his part in the tragedy which played out on their soil. Above, Severin swallowed the skies and became the storm.

Severin felt it, distantly below, when the people in the village forgave Eindred. And he felt when Eindred’s bittersweet tears tickled the earth. He felt Eindred return to the hut, and then after pacing restlessly about, return at last to the pastures where it had all begun.

And then came Eindred’s pained voice, calling out from the fields below. “Severin!”

Eindred had never said his name before, and Severin, who was the clouds and the wind and the rain and the sky, rumbled his joy at the sound of it.

“It was my hand which ended your life,” Eindred continued. His deep voice was shaking. “And with your dying breath you gifted what I thought was a nightmare. Did you know that it would turn out to be a dream? I think you did.”

Just wait, Severin wanted to tell him, because he’d seen a future better still. The only question that remained was whether he had strength enough to reach it.

Rugged face upturned, Eindred called to Severin and the sky, which were one and the same. “Though it’s a dream, I’ll never know peace. How can I? When I live in the home of the one I so coldly murdered? I would leave, but the villagers have my heart - as they had yours. In this state, I don’t think I’ll ever truly know true rest or true peace - despite the great power of your curse.”

You will, Severin said, and lightning streaked across the sky. I will.

“Even now,” Eindred said, through wind and rain, “I’m not sure if you are my greatest enemy or ally.”

There it was.

His greatest enemy.

Severin, with every ounce of power he possessed, claimed the title. For he was the greatest enemy the old Eindred, warrior and killer, had faced. With his parting curse, Severin had forced the old Eindred to do the one thing he’d feared most of all: to live and face all he’d done.

Severin felt a rushing, coursing energy thrumming within and without and he knew that he must catch it and hold it, though he wasn’t sure how.

The tapestry threads, the wind whispered. Severin had spread so thin, his old friend was nearly a part of him now.

Severin listened, and felt for that thread which had teased and tickled his palm. And when he was sure he felt it, he wrapped himself around it and pulled. The sky around him screamed as he dragged himself forward toward something - something -

White light was all around him, and then it wasn’t. The air was cool and damp, and the evening sang with the wind’s gleeful gusts and the soft patter of rain on grass. Severin lifted a hand, and looked it over in tentatively blooming relief. Pressing the hand over his heart which beat with a strong, steady rhythm, Severin breathed a relieved, ragged sigh.

Eindred stood in the field, turned away from him. Drawing in a breath, Severin delighted in the sound of his own voice. “May your greatest enemy rise from the grave, Eindred, and never leave you alone.” He smiled as he spoke, and very nearly pressed his fingers to his lips to feel the shape they took when saying Eindred’s name.

Eindred turned. “So you are my greatest enemy then?” He sounded wary.

“I don’t think it’s so simple as that. Do you?”

Eindred’s expression shifted and he shook his head. When he next spoke, it was soft and fumbling, as if he still hadn’t fully adjusted to a world which was kind. “I made a chair,” he blurted out. “A few actually,” he added, rubbing a hand over the back of his head.

Severin wanted to say, I know. I saw. But that would require more explanation than he cared to give at the moment, so instead, he replied, “Do I get the new rocking chair or my old one?”

“Any,” Eindred stammered, “Either. Both?” He looked at Severin, and the earnest weight of his gaze held the promise of all the chairs Severin could want and anything else Eindred could possibly make with his scarred hands.

The fondness that bubbled up within Severin was so abrupt and filled him so thoroughly that he wanted to laugh with it. “Lucky for you, I only need one chair. You can keep the old one if you like it. I trust your craftsmanship.”

Severin turned then, because it was cold and every part of him felt so entirely bright and buoyant that he thought he might die if he didn’t move. However, when he realized Eindred was not following, he stopped. “Well? Are you coming?”

Eindred looked up, as if he’d been startled. “Where?” he called.

Standing there, sodden in the field, Eindred looked after Severin, as if he was afraid to hope - as Severin once had been afraid to do. And it occurred to Severin that Eindred would need to hear it said aloud.

“Home, of course. Where else?”

“Home,” Eindred repeated, as if confirming it to himself.

And when Severin turned again towards home, Eindred followed.

By the time they reached the hut, both were shivering from the cold, and as they crossed the threshold into the warm space, Severin swayed on his feet. He’d almost forgotten the immense power he’d used, and now the harsh ringing in his ears was a stark reminder. Warm, rough hands steadied him and when Severin tilted his head up, he saw that Eindred wore an expression of poorly concealed terror.

“I’m not going to die all over again,” Severin assured him. “I just used a lot of magic.” As he said it, he swayed once more, this time falling forward.

Eindred caught Severin again, one arm wrapped around his back and his other hand braced against his chest. Beneath where Eindred’s palm pressed, Severin’s heart thrummed. And Severin watched, curious, as Eindred’s expression twisted. He no longer claimed the title of warrior, Severin knew, but it was nonetheless with a warrior’s gravity that Eindred met Severin’s gaze.

“These hands will never again harm you. I swear it.”

“I know,” Severin replied, and pressed a hand over the back of Eindred’s rough knuckles. “Help me to a chair?”

Eindred did, and helped to remove Severin’s thick outer robe before Severin sank gratefully in front of the fire. Eindred left him a moment, and Severin closed his eyes. 

He intended to just rest them for a second - maybe two, but when Severin next opened his eyes, the room was darker and he was draped and bundled in blankets, softer and thicker than any he recalled owning. The fire was still crackling, and the warm light made soothing shadows dance across the hut’s wooden floor. The other chair was occupied, Severin realized, and he watched as the hearth’s orange light played across Eindred’s sleeping features. Compared to Severin’s mountain of blankets, he had just one draped over his lap, though he didn’t seem cold. Nonetheless, Severin shifted a bit, and peeled a soft fleece blanket off his own pile to toss it onto him. The blanket fell short, and with a quick whispered word, the wind slipped under the door and flipped the offending blanket up onto Eindred’s chest.

“That’s better,” Severin said.

The wind played a little with the fire before tousling Severin’s hair and departing with a sibilant, save your strength foolish human. You’re still recovering, and slipped out the way it had come.

When Severin turned back to Eindred, he saw the large man was sitting up and his eyes were now open. Blinking, Eindred rubbed a hand over his face and then, stiffening in sudden shock, he whipped to look at Severin. Heaving a great sigh, he rocked back in the chair. “Still breathing,” he said.

“I don’t plan on stopping.”

Something almost like a smile twitched at Eindred’s lips and Severin was enchanted by it.

“You were dead and now you’re alive. Forgive me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“You’re the one who believes in silly curses.”

Eindred’s brows rose. “Silly? Says the one who was brought back from the dead by one.”

Severin waved a dismissive hand. “The curse might have set the stage, but I was director, crew, and cast.”

And there was another smile, like a glimpse of sun between clouds. Severin was beginning to fear there might be no practical limit to the lengths he’d be willing to go to see another smile.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Eindred replied. “I get the feeling you know a great deal more about the world and magics than I.”

“Well Eindred,” Severin said, scooting his chair a little closer to both Eindred and the fire. “What do you know of grand tapestries?”

Eindred, looking more than a little lost, shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one.”

“Well,” Severin said, and grinned. “What do you know of cheese?”

.

.

EDIT: A novel based on Eindred and the Witch and The Witch Who Spoke to the Wind is in progress! I will post news about it on my Tumblr and my Patreon as news becomes available :)

[clairecrive]

hiii! um i had a request if that’s alright? umm a darkling x tidemaker!reader where the reader slowly grows more and more jealous of alina until she finally snaps and tries to leave with another tidemaker to train with master tidemakers for the kings army but then darkling stops her. with a happy ending please 🥺🥺

Where your heart is

A/n; this took a life of its own but I'm still not too sure about it even though I had lots of fun writing it. Hope you'll like it, 🌻x

Word count: 2.4K +

Warnings: angst, darklina, jelousy

Tags: @blackst0nes7077 , @thefictionalgemini , @louweasleymalfoy , @jupiterandbutterflies , @for-bebbanburg , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx , @kaqua , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @deardiarystuff, @emmaev , @aleksanderwh0r3 , @hazelrose14, @crowssixof , @qhbr2013 , @odetostep , @strawb3rrydr3ss , @lizzie-he4rts , @korol-lantsov , @shadow4ndbone, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @mriddlemethis , @secretsthathauntus , @carnationworld (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

He was her mentor. He was the only one who could help her through the discovery and understanding of her powers. That's why he was spending so much time with her. No other reason.

At least that's what you've been telling yourself over and over in hope that you'd start believing it. So far, you had no success. And this had been going on since the day Alina had arrived at the Little Palace a month ago so you didn't harbour any hopes that it'll start working.

But what could you do?

He was spending every waking moment between his War room and the training grounds with Alina. You could see the allure that she had to have in his eyes.

He had been waiting for her for a long time, after all. You couldn't even be mad at him for investing his energies to help her harness her powers since she was the key to Ravka freedom. And, to be fair, Alina wasn't that bad.

Sure, you had to get through many layers of snarky remarks and dry humour that most of the times felt a lot like rudeness rather than humour. But she wasn't that bad. Not when there were people like Zoya walking around.

But the days without seeing him, with just a passing glance or a touch of his hand on your back were taking their toll on you. You missed him.

You had gone from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all.

You had tried to talk to him about it but he.was.always.busy. Or with Alina. You weren't proud to admit it, and you probably never will out loud, but a certain green monster had taken residence on your shoulders.

You were taking your usual stroll around the gardens when you spotted him outside the Palace's main entrance. Hurrying your steps, you called his name to catch his attention.

"Aleksander!"

Fortunately, he heard you and turned to see who was calling him. There were few people who knew his name and there was no chance in hell it would be Baghra. His lips morphed in a small smile as he watched you approaching with a sprint in your steps.

"Hey, I'm so glad I've caught you, it's been ages since I've-" you stopped when you saw Alina's approaching figure. Your eyes darted from her to Aleksander in front of you and you've finally noticed the two horses.

He wasn't wearing his cloak and of course, where Alina was Aleksander followed. Your lips thinned in a line as you rolled your shoulders back. You knew that Aleksander had noticed your expression change but you hadn't had centuries of practice to scholar your features into betraying nothing. But you forced yourself to at least keep up the appearances with Alina.

You gave her a smile when she stood before you complimenting her hair.

"Genya's handiwork," she simply said as it was enough to explain everything.

"Well, I'm going to leave you to your outing," you said hoping they couldn't notice the strain in your smile. Turning around, you retraced your steps to where you had been standing before and where you should have stayed all this time.

It was clear now- what other signs did he need to give you? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to not let the tears fall. You could feel his eyes on you until the sounds of hooves hitting the gravel told you that they were gone.

However much it hurt you to see again and again the proof that you were losing him, there was still a part of you that told you that this was just a phase. A temporary arrangement, given Aleksander's plans for Ravka. You just had to bite the bullet until it was all over.

And so, with renowned hope, you decided that you were going to talk to him. Even if you had to wait for him for hours or meet him at the brink of dawn, you had to do it. You needed to know where his heart was and from that, you could decide where to go.

However, to your luck, today was the day of the Winter Fete. Everyone, including you, was going to be super busy with finalizing the last minute details and rehearsals. Every Grisha had a role in tonight demonstration even though the star of the whole night was, of course, the Sun Summoner.

Since you were a tidemaker, your manifestation was scheduled before Alina's grand entrance. You and the other tidemakers had prepared a light show, along with Alina, to use water to reflect and amplify Alina's light so as to create a beautiful play of light.

The whole ordeal ended in time for Alina to get back inside the Palace and get on stage and for everyone else to get inside too to witness her exhibition. You followed along with everyone else but alas, you really wished you hadn't.

Aleksander had eyes only for Alina, he never looked away from her even when the light got blinding for everyone else in the room. And you couldn't blame him- Alina was literally glowing. She looked amazing in that black kefta and the symbolism of the colour wasn't lost on you.

You had been a fool, that's what you were. It was painfully obvious how whipped Aleksander was for Alina. Each of those signs was a painful blow to your heart and faith in him. His outings with her, her black kefta, the smile she sent his way and how enthralled he was by her.

Shaking your head, you fought to keep your composure. You had lost him, you realized. You had to accept the fact that it was over. Whatever you had, it had come to an end. The moment it did, was lost on you but you knew it had to coincide with the moment he had met Alina.

As if to confirm your inward musings, Alina and Aleksander walked out of the room, her under his arm.

Well, it was settled then. You couldn't stay here anymore. It was one thing to break up and grow apart but it was a whole other thing to watch him being in love with someone else.

You had to go. That was certain.

Nodding to yourself, you took your final decision just as they walked past you. Aleksander's eyes met yours briefly, just long enough for you to send him a teary glare.

This was the last time you were going to see him and as much as you could feel your heart breaking, you knew that it was something you had to do. They walked out of the room and you wasted no time in leaving as well.

However, before going to your room to pack the few belongings you had, there was somewhere else you needed to go first.

The wind blew harshly on your face, the salt of the sea breeze mixing with that of your tears. Alone on the dock, you allowed yourself to cry. To finally let out everything you had been keeping under lock and key for so very long.

You tried to comfort yourself by reassuring yourself that this was the right choice. The best choice. To stay in a place where you had never truly felt at home, where every nook and cranny reminded you of what you had and what you had lost- of the fact that you hadn't been enough. That your love hadn't been enough for him to stick around, to choose you over a girl he had known for about a day. Everything you had shared, the months spent together in intimacy under his sheets or under the comfort of your favourite tree.

Vanished. Erased. Worthless.

You allowed yourself to feel every ounce of pain his dismissing behaviour had caused you because as soon as you boarded, you were going to leave all of this behind. You were sailing towards your future, towards a new land full of opportunities and new people. Somewhere where you could start fresh.

You heard someone shout the name of the ship you had to be on and knew that the moment had come. Here you were about to step into your new life.

Heaving a sigh, you threw a last look in the Little Palace direction, at what-or rather- who you were leaving behind. Turning around, you gathered your kefta closer to your body to shield you from the harsh weather. As you were about to move, a hand clamping on your back, stopped you.

You winced, not expecting the contact since you thought you were the only one on the dock. Turning around, you were met with a familiar pair of onyx eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked, an edge on his voice that you couldn't figure out if it was surprise, betrayal or boredom.

"I could ask you the same thing, General." Taking a step back, his hand fell from your shoulder as you put some distance between you. Standing so close to him just as you were about to bid him goodbye forever felt like a cruel joke on destiny's part.

"So this is what you do? Leave in the middle of the night without telling anyone?"

"Those who needed to be, have been rightly notified of my departure. I don't see how this concerns you, though."

"You don't see-" he huffed out, a humourless laugh leaving him," how, in the name of all saints, don't you see how this concerns me?"

"This is the first time you've spoken to me in months, Aleksander so please spare me this bullshit. I've got it, alright?" Raising your hands you took yet another step away from him. "There's no need for you to be here and pretend anymore. Go back to your party and your Grisha and your girl."

"You're my girl," he stated somehow still calmly.

"No, I'm not," you scoffed, "and you've done a fine job proving that these past few months."

"I know I've been neglecting you, but what's a few months when we have a lifetime together in front of us?" he conceded taking a step towards you as his arms widened as if to show you the length of time you'd be spending together.

"It's everything, Aleks," you snapped as your emotions got the best of you, "seeing you getting cosy with Alina every day realising that the more time passed the less you were mine was excruciating and I'm done. I'm going away and I'm leaving all of this behind."

"You can't go."

"Watch me," you quipped as you turned around. Challenging you was not the best way for him to go about this. He knew better than anyone who proudful you could be.

"You cannot go," he... begged? the tone of his voice was so weird coming from him that had you pivot immediately. "You cannot leave. You cannot leave me."

You stood there, hair blowing everywhere for the harsh wind, just staring at him. You'd never seen him so emotional. Yes, you'd shared some intimate moments but he'd never been quite this open about his feelings. The sight of his teary eyes was so unfamiliar that made your brain short-circuiting.

Taking a shaky breath, Aleksander took a step in your direction, getting closer to you but still not close yet.

"Everything that I've ever done has been for a sole purpose, y/n, you know it. And you have to believe me, Alina plays a role in this as well."

"I know she does, it's obvious to everyone. It just has become painfully obvious to me tonight just how important she's come to mean to you." You shrugged as you looked away. Admitting this while also looking him in the eyes was an impossible feat.

"She may as well be the Sun Summoner, but you're my solnishko, y/n." He murmured softly as he took another step, this time getting close enough to you to reach for your hands.

"Sweet talking isn't going to change anything, Aleksander. I saw how you looked at her, I saw her wearing your colours. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Of course not," he disagreed vehemently, "but it's as I've told you, my dear, please believe me. Every action had its purpose which was not hurting you or expressing my love for Alina." He insisted, his hands squeezing yours. His eyes flickered between you and you spotted hopefulness as well as sincerity in them. Which made you hesitate.

Could it be...?

"But why didn't you tell me so, then? Why cutting me out dry without a word?" you uttered, afraid to believe him, afraid to let your heart hope again.

"It has been a play, solnishko. Ever since Alina has stepped foot inside the Little Palace, all eyes have been on us. I had a part to play and so did she. Unfortunately, I couldn't risk it." He explained, his eyes taking in your features, noting how hesitant you still were.

"I swear, my love, you should hear her. The only thing she can talk about it's her childhood best friend who seems so boring, I can't see what she sees in him." He added smiling hoping to lighten the mood. And as a matter of fact, he was rewarded with your giggles.

"Really?"

"I'd never lie to you," he murmured solemnly, his head tilting down toward yours. You met him halfway, your nose bumping softly with his.

"You better never start, Sasha," you warned lightly as he gave you an Eskimo kiss, his hands reaching up to hold your cheeks.

"Never," he promised on your lips. His trailed over yours softly before tilting his head to the side and letting them finally touch.

It has been so long since you've last shared a kiss that you'd almost forgotten how it felt like. How soft his lips were, how voracious he could be, how he always tasted of something sweet.

You gasped as his tongue trailed over your lower lip giving him the desired opportunity to sneak in and meet your tongue. Moaning, you moved your lips with his, hands sneaking through his hair to hold him close. The kiss came to a stop when you both were out of breath. He didn't get far away though as he rested his forehead on yours.

"The captain is going to be really mad at me." You murmured as you heard another shout coming from the end of the dock.

"Let me deal with him," he reassured you before giving you another small kiss. With that, he stepped away and headed over to where your ship was anchored.

You stood there, your fingers touching your lips, still in trance after what happened. So, you had never lost him. He had always been yours.

The realisation made you smile and as you watched his cape blowing in the wind you felt reassured. You knew he had plans but those were never the problem. You could bear seeing him with Alina if you knew that you were the only one in his heart and bed. And it seemed that you weren't the only one who wanted to keep it this way.

[limitlessgojo]

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.

[page150]

Not A Friend - (Sister to Oscar "Spooky" and César Díaz)

Request: "i was wondering if u could do a fic where oscar and cesar have a teen sister and she’s sexually assaulted and tells oscar??"

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3181

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Guns, Cursing

A/N: I usually don't do a author's note before the imagine, but this is a sensitive topic so if this might be triggering please click away.

Y/N - Your Name f/c - favorite color

Y/N sat quietly in her room, reading a book, illuminated by a white lamp sitting on her dresser.

Outside her brother, Oscar laughed with some men and her other brother, César had left a while ago on another adventure with his friends, leaving Y/N by herself in her room. Placing the book down, she moved the curtains away from her window. She looked at the gathering of Santos socializing in the backyard. Red solo cups in hand, dancing and eating. She remembered how Oscar had let her help decorate the backyard for the party only to be later excluded from it. Looking at him laughing with a with his arm around someone she betted that he had forgotten that she was inside.

She had gotten used to being forgotten and treated differently by people. Ever since she was born her brothers didn’t know what to do with her. Oscar had never expected to have to raise a brother by himself and especially not a sister. Even though she was only a year younger than César, Oscar's idea of keeping her safe was keeping her hidden.

She was only allowed to go straight to school then straight home, never alone either. If César or Monse weren’t going to a place neither was Y/N and that’s how it always was. She was especially not allowed to hang out with any of Oscar's friends, making life extremely lonely.

Glancing at a photo that was taped next to the window, she smiled at herself situated between Jasmine and Monse with Jamal, Ruby and César in the back. César’s friends were nice, but they were his friends not hers. He was the one invited to all their parties. He was the one they had tried to save, not her.

This left school to be the only place Y/N could socialize, but no one wanted to be friends with a girl from a gang. She was labeled dangerous before anything else, leaving her by herself. Always forgotten, and always alone.

That night she went to sleep feeling sorry for herself and woke up the same way. It continued the next few days until one day when while sitting in her algebra class, a new student was introduced. He was placed next to her and, ignoring the strange looks the class gave to him, he introduced himself.

“I’m Luke. Can I sit here?”

Y/N looked up at the blond haired boy. Her table partner had moved schools a few months ago and no one bothered to sit with her since. He looked nice, he had a nice smile and it made her want to lower her guard slightly, “Yeah, you can sit here.”

Luke sat next to her and immediately tried to start a conversation. He talked about how he moved from Florida. She noticed, as they talked more, how similar they were. They both had interesting families. He had two brothers, she had two brothers and they both lived near each other.

Y/N found herself laughing more than usual at his jokes. This led to the teacher having to stop class multiple times to scold them. Y/N never had a connection to someone like this, especially not on the first day. At lunch Luke went to sit with with her and -

“Who’s this?” César asked, suddenly sitting down at the lunch table next to his sister and wrapping an arm around her. Jamal, Ruby, and Monse also sat down. The table that previously consisted of two people quickly turned to six. Other kids nearby, eyed the two “dangerous” siblings sitting together.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the unexpected attention that was now forming. “This is Luke, he’s new.”

“Lukeee,” César trailed, “I’m Y/N’s older brother-”

“By a few months,” Y/N butted in.

“Whatever, I’m César, these are my friends Jamal, Ruby and my girl Monse.”

Monse laughed, “I’m not your girl.”

“Not yet,” César winked.

Y/N sighed and threw César’s arm off her. She turned to Elliot and apologized.

“Sorry for them.”

“No they’re cool,” Luke grinned. “Any friend of mine is my friend as well.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, “We’re friends now? It’s only been a day.”

“Of course, you’re cool.”

With the compliment Y/N cheeks turned red. As childish as it was, having an established friendship with someone made her feel nice.

“This must be how César and Oscar feel all the time.” She thought.

“I don’t know if Oscar will like you having a friend that is a boy.” Ruby remarked. “No offense, Luke.”

“None taken.”

“Oscar doesn’t like anyone anyways.” Monse muttered, taking a bite into her sandwich.

“Don’t worry” Luke smiled, “I’m one of the good guys.”

“That’s what they all say,” Jamal said suspiciously. He leaned in close to Luke’s face and gave him some crazy faces.

“Okay, great talk guys,” Y/N said sarcastically, “I would love to chat with you more but lunch is about to end and I have to show Luke where his next class is. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah I have to go, but it was nice meeting you guys.” Luke stated, before he was dragged away by Y/N.

The next few weeks Y/N spent all her time with Luke. He sat next to her in the classes they shared, they talked at lunch and while walking home after school. They even stayed up at night so they could talk on the phone. She found herself smiling every time he talked to her. Every time he offered to carry her books. He was just so nice.

One Friday afternoon, Luke came running up to Y/N, putting her items in her backpack after her last class. He put his hands around her eyes, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Guess who?”

“Mrs. Kurt, I told you we can't see each other here.” Y/N whispered.

Luke removed his hands and his face went white. Y/N turned around and started crying with laughter. She had to sit down, her face turning bright red as she continued to laugh, gasping for air.

“I don’t even want to think about you dating my mom.” He trembled, before returning to his cheerful self. “Stop laughing, I have important news. There’s a party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

Y/N stopped laughing and thought about it before responding. “I don’t know. I don’t think Oscar would want me to. You know how he is about stuff like that.”

Luke smiled and picked her backpack off the floor. He then put out his hand and helped Y/N to her feet.

“Which is why César and his friends already said they are coming too. Oscar doesn’t have to know you're going as my date.”

“Your date?”

“If you want to be. I want you to be my date.”

Y/N smiled, a pink blush covering her cheeks. “I can be your date.”

“Great,” He took her hand and began to lead her out of the classroom. “It’s going to be amazing, don't worry.”

That night Y/N drank water out of a red solo cup, while sitting on the couch of a kid she had never met before. This time she was the one laughing and partying. Colors flashed around the room as more and more kids came into the house. The air was foggy with smoke and smelt like a mash of perfumes and colognes. Y/N nodded her head to the music enjoying the energy in the room.

To her surprise Luke pulled her up to dance with him. She giggled feeling his hands go around her waist. She put her arms around his neck just like she saw in the movies. Rap was blasting out of speakers placed on the ground. Somewhere someone joked about getting a noise compliment to which the crowd began shouting the rap lyrics louder. Taunting the idea, almost hoping for it so the party could gain extra excitement. Y/N shouted along with them in bliss. Ignoring the past fear she had felt once she noticed César had left. Ignoring the looks she had gotten when she first walked in the party. Ignoring how Luke had moved his hands past the dip in her back...

When she felt his hands squeeze her butt she whispered for him to stop which he did, but she still felt weird. A sinking feeling sat in her gut that this was a mistake. Suddenly the small action made the party feel like too much now. She could smell the stink of alcohol on Luke’s breath and weirdly on herself as well. How did she get drunk?

Y/N moved from Luke to where she had placed her cup. Now she could see scribbled on with a black sharpie, someone else’s name. She must have grabbed the wrong cup sometime during the party. Swaying slightly, she moved back toward Luke.

“I need to go home,” She hiccuped. “I drank someone's drink.”

In the darkness she didn’t see Luke’s small smile. “Wow, I’m sorry. Let’s get you home.”

The two exited the party and began to walk home. Y/N felt more tipsy as she walked, eventually having to lean on the blond boy. She didn’t feel really drunk, she could still tell what was happening, it was just her body felt a little out of balance. Luke seemed the same way, but before they reached Y/N house he grabbed her hips. The sudden movement left her in shock.

“You looked really nice tonight, babe.” He said, pulling her into a kiss as he ran his hands on her back, slowly moving lower onto her butt, then up to her breasts.

Immediately Y/N pushed Luke off of her, moving to wrap her arms around herself. “What the hell? I’m a Santo, pull that shit again and it's over” She yelled, backing away from Luke.

“Like you would, I’m the only one who cares enough to pay attention to you. Do you really think anyone else wants to be around you? I’ll do whatever I want. You would be an idiot to lose me.” He fumed.

Y/N froze. Luke had never acted like that before. He couldn’t truly mean what he was saying. She ran into her house and locked the door behind her. She waited a few minutes to check that he had left, which he did.

After her shower she convinced herself that Luke must have been really drunk. That’s why he acted that way, but on Monday he proved that that was not the case.

At the beginning of algebra it started off okay. Luke kept his eyes on the board and focused on his work. It was okay up to the point where he started rubbing on Y/N's leg. She told him to stop but he ignored her. First rubbing small circles on her knee. Then moving up to her thigh moving closer and closer upwards. No matter how many times she moved his hand he kept putting it back. Eventually she had to stay quiet out of fear of distracting the class, but he kept going. She begged silently for it to stop. Suddenly feeling powerless as he continued to do as he pleased for more days.

At lunch even though Luke continued to joke with César she started to go silent. It was a constant internal battle. If she pushed Luke away more, it would cause her to lose her only friend. If she didn’t she would continue to feel uncomfortable. She told herself it would stop eventually, that things would go back to normal, but they didn’t.

As more days went by Luke tried to do more things. The more he tried to do the quieter Y/N got. But luckily César began to notice. He noticed that Y/N wanted him to sit between her and Luke more. How she stopped laughing at his jokes and how Luke changed his tone when talking to her. It wasn’t always playful like it used to be.

Even though César wasn’t really close to his sister he acknowledged that they had to look out for each other. Y/N had been the one to get Oscar to let him back in the house many times. She looked out for him, and he had to look out for her.

Which is why when César and Monse accidentally walked in on Luke kissing her in an empty classroom while she tried to push him off, he freaked out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He shouted, pulling Luke off of her and close to his face by the collar of his shirt. “I'm Lil’ Spooky I’ll have your face in the dirt if you do that shit again.”

“César, stop what are you doing here. You’re going to hurt him.” Y/N yelled. Monse gently pulled her away from Luke, but she pushed Monse back.

César punched Luke in the eye and he fell down, crumbling into a fetal position. César continued to kick him in the stomach until Y/N pulled him away.

“You’re hurting him! You can’t do this here! César stop please!”

César turned and grabbed Y/N's arm. He led her out of the classroom and out of the school with Monse trailing after them. Y/N’s items in hand.

“I can’t believe he was on you like that. Shit, Y/N. Wait, don't cry, don’t cry, it's okay.”

Y/N hadn’t realized she was crying until he said that. Tears were falling rapidly down her cheeks. She choked back sobs, trying to keep herself somewhat together.

She was thankful for César stopping it, but afraid for what would happen next. Once they reached their house César guided her up the stairs and inside where Oscar was smoking a cigarette at the dinner table. Hearing the door burst open and crying he instantly got up. He reached for his gun, but seeing that it was his siblings he stopped.

“Shit, what the hell happened César. Why is she crying?”

“Tell him,” César said softly. Monse ran in and went to Y/N’s side pulling her into a hug.

“Tell me what. Why are you crying?”

“He 's not mad at you hermana. Él va a ayudar.”

Y/N sniffled and buried herself into Monse’s shoulder. Trying to hide her embarrassment she whispered, “My friend at school was touching me in a weird way, Oscar. He wouldn’t stop. I told him to stop, though. I did. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

“We’re not mad at you and he’s not a friend anymore, Y/N. That should’ve never happened to you.” Monse murmured.

The room went silent. Monse still slowly rubbed Y/N’s back and César stood tense. Oscar looked from César to Y/N.

“César, do you think he left school yet?”

“Uh yeah, school ended right after I pulled her out.”

“Come on,” Oscar grabbed his gun and began to walk out the door, César following after. Y/N ran after Oscar begging for him to stop.

“Don’t Oscar, don’t hurt hm. He’s my only friend. He’s a kid, it was just a mistake.”

“No no!” He shouted. Oscar turned and placed his hands on Y/N’s shoulder’s. Looking into her teary eyes.

“It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault hermana. My job is to keep you safe. I've failed at a lot of things, but I refuse to fail at that again. Get in the house and rest. He just needs to be taught a lesson. Stay with Monse. Te amo como una hija bebé espeluznante.”

He left with César, leaving Y/N on the lawn. Monse guided her back into the house. She remembered what her dad did whenever she was going through a lot. She treated Y/N the same way. Reassuring her that it will be okay. That it wasn’t her fault.

César and Oscar didn’t come back until later that night.

“We got you this,” Oscar muttered, walking into the house and tossing a stuffed bear to Y/N. “We saw the idea online.” It was a f/c bear with a heart on it that said ‘Te Quiero’ with little messages César and Oscar wrote on the back. There weren't a lot, but the few ones there were were heartfelt.

“Thank you, I love it” Y/N smiled, holding the bear close. Her eyes were still slightly red from crying.

“And pizza,” César quietly cheered. On his face was a bandage, but he moved his face so Y/N couldn’t see it. “Monse do you want to spend the night?”

Monse looked at Y/N, “Yeah I already have clothes here so I’ll stay,”

She picked up a slice of pizza. “Soo, what did you guys do?”

“We took care of it,” Oscar said, sitting on the couch next to Y/N. “He won’t mess with you again. If I didn’t have a reputation I would’ve reported it.” He lowered his voice. “You can always go to us Y/N, we’re going to protect you. If that cabrón messes with you again I’m coming for him. ”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled. “I just wanted a friend, how dumb is that.”

“You can always hang out with us,” Monse added, “We’re your friends. We love having you around.”

Y/N sighed, “I mean my own friend. I love you guys too, but it gets so lonely. No one at school wants to be near me. Soy un marginado.”

The room went silent again. Before Monse spoke up, “You know you’re really smart Y/N. There’s a school in BrentWood that might offer you a scholarship to go there. I know you could pass the entrance exam. ”

“I could get a job for the tuition,” César added, rising from his seat at the dinner table. “Oscar what do you think? You’ve been making more money lately. It would keep her safe. She is really smart.”

Oscar looked at the ceiling, a good sign that he was thinking about the idea. Y/N kept her mouth shut, trying not to get too excited.

“How would she get there?”

“It’s a long bus ride,” Monse remarked, “But it’s safe. Only a bunch of rich kids. Most of them will be nice to you, Y/N. You’re smart, you’re funny, and you’re strong. Not a lot of them are like that there. No one will know who you're related to. I can get my mom to help get you in.”

César, Monse, and Y/N looked at Oscar. He took a deep breath and released it. Pulling a cigarette out his pocket, he lit it. Breathing deep he puffed out the smoke.

“I failed you today as a hermano, if I can keep you safe I will. I’ll work on getting you there.”

Y/N smiled and hugged Oscar, feeling César join as well.

“Thank you Oscar. Thank you Cesar. Thank you Monse. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah” Oscar grinned. “Get off me I’m going to bed. I think I’ll go to the beach tomorrow. Want to come?”

“Yes!”

Author's Note: My DMs are always open to anyone who needs it. I am also on twitter to anyone who wants to talk @/thepage150. Requests are open. You are important. You are valued. You are loved. Have a wonderful day ~c'k

[crazyotakugal]

Soaring Hearts

Hawks/Keigo Tamaki x Reader Fluff Lemon

Authors Notes:

Thank y’all so much for all the support!! I’m so glad you enjoyed the story and like I said, here’s part Two!! I hope y’all enjoy!!

It’s been almost a month since your “encounter” with the Number Two Hero. You’ve been catching up with your family, seeing the sights, and wondering about your meet up with Hawks. Of course, you haven’t told anyone about meeting Hawks and the events that followed. However, there’s always the unexpected…

Part Two:

CHANCE ENCOUNTERS

“ Come on, y/n! You gotta check out this place next!” Your cousin, Fuyumi, waved you over to yet another sweets shop.

It was a nice day today and Fuyumi had the day off, so she decided to take your sight seeing/shopping. The district was actually really cool and had a variety of different shops, but you really didn’t have much money to spend. Since your dad ditched you, things have always been tight. If your uncle, the number one Hero, had not paid for your trip, you wouldn’t have been able to visit. However, you’d never tell your family about your financial situation.

“Oooohhh!! They have that awesome cake and milk tea!! Let’s get some!” Fuyumi grabs your hand and starts to drag you into the shop.

“Umm, Fuyumi, maybe we should slow down?” You really couldn’t afford it, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Oh no worries! Dad’s covering everything today! He insisted!” She beamed.

“Uuuuhhh…” You were at a lost for words.

You just decided to go along with it and allowed yourself to be dragged along. Despite your uncle’s attitude, he was actually a really kind person. You remember your mom calling him a monster and saying he was evil, but you just didn’t see that.

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

You and Fuyumi were sitting at a table with a neon rainbow checkerboard tablecloth and a pink vase with white daisies inside. The place was really nice for being a sweets shop. It was cutesy kind of place with different kinds of teas and sweets and the atmosphere was relaxing. You just went with whatever Fuyumi ordered. She seemed to be really happy and enjoying hanging around you. To be honest, you were really having tons of fun and you were really happy you came to Japan.

Even your encounter with Hawks.

Even if it was just a fling and as much as it made your heart ache to want to see him again, you knew your best chance was on a screen versus in person. You didn’t regret spending the night with him, but you felt bad for how it ended.

~~~ FLASHBACK ~~~

It was either really late at night or very early in the morning when you had woken up. It was really dark and you were tempted to slip back into the lull of sleep. However, you had to pee really bad. Your body felt stiff and heavy. Nature calling, you rub your thighs together, feeling a sharp pain shoot between your legs, and a stickiness there.

‘Huh? Too early for my period.’

You try to shift to get up, but something was wrapped around your waist. It didn’t feel like your covers. It was warmer and heavier. As your brain slowly started to wake up, you realized the thing around your waist was connected to something heavy pressed against your back. You try to wiggle a little bit and whatever was around your waist tighten.

You felt a lump in your throat and carefully turned your head. Holding your waist was Japan’s number two pro hero! His gold locks even messier then normal and he looked absolutely breath taking asleep. You very carefully slide away from Hawks without disturbing him, gather your scattered clothing, and tippy toe into the bathroom.

After a few minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, fully clothed. You glance over at Hawks sleeping form, feeling regret for leaving like this bubbling inside you. However, you weren’t going to put yourself through that. Even though what you two had shared was amazing, you weren’t going to kid yourself into thinking that there was anything there. You wiped a few tears from your eyes and quietly left his apartment.

~~~ End F/B ~~~

“Y/n? Hey, y/n, you there?” Fuyumi is waving a hand in front of your face.

“Oh! Oh I’m sorry!” You laughed. “I guess I was spacing out.”

A waitress comes over to your table, setting down your orders and leaves with a bow. The tea smelled amazing and the cake super delicious!

“I’m sorry, Fuyumi, what were you saying?” You take a sip of the yummy tea.

She takes a bite of the cake and swallowed it, “I was saying that there’s this big charity party that dad wants us all to attend tonight and was asking you if you had a dress you could wear?!”

You choke a bit on your cake, “What?! No! Noooo! I don’t have anything to wear that fancy! I really don’t need to go, I mean I’m just his niece!”

Fuyumi makes a slight pouty face, “But you are family! It’s for the family’s of that Camino incident, so it’s for a good cause! Dad even said we could go pick out new dresses!”

You feel really uneasy about that,” That’s not necessary! Really!”

Fuyumi just smiled at you, “Really! Don’t worry about it!”

Even though you were still getting to know Fuyumi, you knew her well enough to know there was no point to arguing with her once her mind was set. You just take a bite of your cake as she beams knowing she won.

~~~~~~

After the sweets shop, you were dragged to a few clothing stores. Fuyumi found a few dresses she liked/bought, the one she finally chose for the evening was a navy blue tie back dress that had silver glitter at the hem slowly decreasing almost non existent to the waist, almost like a starburst effect. It looked amazing on her. In fact, a lot of stuff did.

You found a few things you looked for everyday wear and lingerie, which she bought you despite your protests, but nothing you felt confident in or really suited you. Finally, Fuyumi dragged you into this one store with all kinds of clothing. That’s when it caught your eye. It was an off the shoulder dress with loop sleeves, form fitting torso with lace up front. There was a satin bow at the waist, the bow resting on your hip. The skirt flared out into two layers, the top layer was sheer parted down the middle with tiny little diamonds (not real) that ruffled at the edges. The second layer was a satin material with the same diamond accents that came down to your ankles. It was your favorite color and the price wasn’t bad at all!

“Oh wow, y/n! That’s perfect! You should try it on!” Fuyumi beamed as she snatched the dress and pushed it and you towards the dressing room. A few minutes later, you came out with it on. It fit you perfectly and you couldn’t hardly believe it was you in the mirror.

“Y/n! You look beautiful!” Your cousin smiled at you, causing you to blush a little.

‘My little sparrow is so beautiful.’

You remember the last time someone called you “beautiful” and remembering that night made you turn bright red.

~~~ Later that night ~~~

Just as you thought, it was an extremely classy affair. There were ton of big time heroes there as well as a lot of influential names. You didn’t know everyone, but Fuyumi had no problem filling you in. She looked so pretty in her dress. Natsuo and Shoto of course didn’t show up. Fuyumi was squealing about all the hot and available guys at the party.

“Oh there’s dad!” Fuyumi grabs your arm and drags you over to where your uncle was.

He, of course being number one, was surrounded by a bunch of people. He looked really annoyed, but put on a front. Occasionally, shaking a hand. Once he saw Fuyumi and you heading his way, he excused himself and to meet you halfway.

“Hey, Dad! This things really great isn’t it?” Fuyumi smiles, as always, trying to be the sweet daughter.

“Fuyumi. Y/N. You’re both looking very nice this evening.” He gave a tiniest, quickest smile.

Fuyumi beamed at the compliment and gave even a little twirl. A waiter came by and offered you three a colorful drink in a tall glass with a cherry on top. Endeavor declined, but you two each took one and thanked him.

“Um, Uncle, thank you very much for the dress,” You bowed, careful not to spill your drink.

“Hey there, Number one! You sure are popular!” A familiar voice rang, making your heart stop.

You lift your head up, to see none other than Hawks standing next to your uncle, with his hand on his shoulder with his usual grin on his face. He, like the other pro heroes there, was wearing his typical attire.

“Ugh, Hawks, let me introduce you to my daughter, Fuyumi, and my niece visiting abroad, Y/N,” Endeavor holds a hand out gesturing your way causing your heart to stop.

‘Don’t be dumb, Y/N! It was a one night stand! He probably doesn’t even remember you!’

Hawks smiles at Fuyumi warmly, gently taking her hand, but there’s a split second of surprise and recognition when his eyes turn towards you. Your breath catches in your throat as he smiles, takes your hand into his, and brings it to his lips. You feel your face turn bright red.

“Nice you meet you, Y/n,” He says with a subtle hint of sarcasm. He was acting like you’d just met, but he definitely recognized you.

“Oh my God! Is that the number one and number two pro heroes together!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

Fuyumi grabbed your hand and hurried away so you two weren’t caught in the poparatzi fire. You glanced back at Hawks, who was still looking at you as you were being led away. The crowd of reporters encircled the two heroes.

~~~~~~~~~

After the craziness with the reporters, you’d lost sight of Hawks. You’d spent the rest of the evening being dragged around by your cousin, talking, eating, and drinking. It was actually lots of fun. You got to meet a lot of new people and eat a lot of delicious food.

A little tipsy, needing some air, you excused yourself from your cousin who honestly was too engrossed in talking to this guy to notice you leave. You found a quiet place in the outside garden. The cool air felt nice on your hot skin and the scent of the flowers around you was relaxing. You sat on a bench by a fountain, closed your eyes, and took a few deep breaths. As you started to cool down, the breeze was starting to make you shiver a little.

Suddenly something soft and warm is placed on your shoulders. Your eyes shoot open and you see Hawks standing there with a gentle smile on his face, he’d placed his jacket over you. Seeing him so close to you, made your heart race and you felt a ping of guilt.

“Little Sparrow a bit chilly?” He reaches and brushes a stray hair from your burning face.

Hearing him say that nickname, flustered you because images of that night came flooding back. You felt the familiar spark of desire start from just that little touch. The memory of how those hands felt touching you made you shiver slightly.

“I, um, I…” You stutter out.

He tilts his head slightly, “hmmm?”

You bow low, “I’m so sorry! About leaving like that I mean!”

Embarrassed you ramble on, “It’s just, um, I’ve never done that type of thing. Not saying I regret what happened, but…I didn’t know what to expect afterwards and panicked and…I’m so sorry I left and didn’t say anything…”

You’re afraid to look up, but a gentle hand on your chin, turned your gaze upwards to meet his. Those wonderful lips of his gently covering your own. At first it starts slow, but then gradually becomes more passionate. One hand wraps around your waist as the other cups the back of your neck, keeping you in place. His tongue sweeps over your lips and you grant him access to your mouth without hesitation. All the desire from that night reawakening as that kiss makes you melt.

When your lips finally part, both his hands cup your cheeks bringing your face forward so your forehead was resting against his. Your noses almost touching, both your eyes shut, and you both a panting for breath. Just from that kiss, you could tell that you probably were already soaked down there. Your eyes locked when you opened them. Desire burning so brightly behind his gold orbs.

You looked so beautiful to him right now. The dress you were wearing was absolutely amazing on you, your lips were red and swollen from his assault, and your cheeks were flushed. That morning, he felt sad that you had left and he hadn’t gotten your name or info. That night has been fantastic and he didn’t know what it was about you, but he just felt so drawn to you. Sure, he’d had experience with women and had some fun in his younger years. Despite the rumors about him, he didn’t go around jumping from woman to woman. That was way too risky for one, but shallow one night stands weren’t his thing.

“Y/N,” He breathed before kissing you again. His hands starting the explore your body over your dress.

“H…Hawks!” You gasp as his lips start placing kisses down your neck. Hearing your name from his lips completely overwhelmed you with need.

His arms lift you up bridal style and he flies up high onto a balcony. The door’s unlocked and Hawks carries you into the dark room. It looked like someone’s office, there were shelves with all kinds of books, a couple of couches by a fireplace, and a large wooden desk.

Hawks carries you over and gently lays you down on one of the couches, his jacket acting like a pillow, and leans over you. His lips once again taking yours captive. He uses one arm to support his weight above you as the other slides up your leg bunching the skirt of your dress higher and higher. You gasp against his mouth when you feel his fingers press against the damp cloth between your legs.

“Oh!” You toss your head back as his fingers slowly start to circle the wetness there.

“I see my lovely sparrow is still so sensitive,” he murmurs as he kisses your shoulder, his fingers dipping beyond your soaked panties.

“Keigo!” You cry out and you feel Hawks shutter above you, feeling how wet you already were for him and already crying his name.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. He gets up off of you, you hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone and the sound of rustling clothing. You give a surprise squeal as you feel your panties being pulled off you. Hawks pushes your skirt all the way up to your waist and settles himself between your legs. Before you can say anything, he sheaths himself into you with one thrust. You can feel him fill every part of you, once again stretching you.

“Ahhh!” Your body shudders as you cum just from the sensation of him utterly filling you.

“Did my sparrow just cum from me just putting it inside?” He says with a cocky tone as he starts to move, “You really are made for me! Fuck! You feel so good!”

You dig your nails into his clothed back as your rocked into ecstasy. You look up at Hawks; his face twisted with pleasure and his beautiful red wings completely spread out above the two of you. Your tangle your fingers in his blond hair and bring his lips crashing down onto yours.

The sounds of moans and slapping skin fill the room.

“You’re so hot and wet! It’s like heaven inside you!” He breaths, never halting his thrusts, “God Sparrow, you’re taking me so wonderfully. You’re just the perfect fit!”

You start to feel that wonderful familiar knot start to build again. Hawks thrusts start getting a little rougher and deeper. A film of sweat covering both your bodies. His length hitting the entrance of your womb over and over again. The pleasure is just as intense as before that you feel your mind slipping away.

“Keigo! I’m gonna…oh God! I’m gonna!” You sob out, feeling yourself about to tumble down that peak any moment.

Hawks grabs your hips in his hands and pounds into you mercilessly. He burned the vision of you in his mind. Your h/c spilled all over as your head thrashes about, you withering underneath him with absolute bliss plastered on your face, and those lovely lips of yours swollen, parted, quivering as you start to reach your peak. That lovely dress of yours bunched at your hips giving him a wonderful view of himself being swallowed by your lovely pussy.

“Y/n, cum for me! That’s it! Cum for me sparrow!” He urges, pushing his hips against that spot a few times, his cock hitting your cervix, before you finally tumble over.

“KEIGO!” You scream, tossing your head back as your orgasm hits you. You cling to the couch as it washes you over. He holds his grip on your hips as he pounds you.

Hawks loses it when he feels you clamp down onto him, cumming around his cock. Your hot fluids gushing all over him. A few sloppy thrusts later, he’s calling out your name as he fills you to the brim. Another climax hits you as feel his dick twitching and filling you. You both lay there, panting afterwards.

You both hold each other on the couch, bodies still connected. Hawks still breathless, placing occasional kisses on your shoulder. He didn’t want to leave your warmth yet. After a few more minutes of holding you, mumbling soothing words, Hawks slips from your depths. He watches as your combined fluids seep from your opening slightly and catches your soft whimper once he left you.

Hawks sits up and gathers you in his lap, holding you to his chest. You smelt amazing. Like a sweet dessert. Your h/c was soft and your skin as well. It felt so nice holding you like this. You laid your head on his chest and gave into him holding you. His fingers gently stroking your hair. You didn’t want to be parted from him yet. You wished time would freeze and you two could stay like this. He smelt like rain. His warmth radiating from his body into yours. You feel a bit of sleepiness come over you.

“We should go before someone comes in and we get in trouble for staining their expensive couch,” Hawks whispers in your ear, bringing a bright red blush to your face.

You get up on your unsteady legs and straighten yourself up. You look around, a bit panicked, for your panties that you’d been wearing, but couldn’t see where Hawks had tossed them too. Your face turned bright red thinking how horrifying it would be if someone found them.

“Looking for something?” Hawks smiles at you, holding the bunched up lace garment in his hand.

“H…hey!” You feel your face burn even hotter. “Give those back!”

You go to try to snatch your panties from his hand, but of course he’s too fast for you and easily dodges. You go to try and grab them again, but this time he catches your wrist, pulling your body against his.

He smiles down at you, giving you a playful wink,”Consider these my hostage so you don’t go disappearing on me again.”

You make a pouty face at him and playfully punch him in the chest. He simply laughs it off.

His lips brush yours as he stuffs the material into his jacket pocket and lifts you up again. He effortlessly leaps down the balcony, safely with you to the ground. He gently sets you down on your feet. You feel his hand cover yours then sliding something between your fingers. It was his card, but at the bottom was a hand written phone number. You look up at him again and he reaches to brush a hair from your face. You looked absolutely adorable at that moment, looking up at him with big, questioning eyes.

“I don’t usually give out my personal number, but I’m willing to make an exception for you my sparrow,” He grins, ” However, now that I know you’re related to the big guy, I can easily hunt you down too.”

You give him a look and mumble under your breath, “You can try.”

He’s taken aback for a moment, then bursts into laughter. You were just too cute. He couldn’t help himself, wraps an arm around your waist, and kisses you deeply before he finally steps away from you.

He flaps his wings and takes off a few feet into the air. Small red feathers raining down all around you.

“Until I see ya around, Y/N!” He grins before taking off into the air. Leaving you looking up at the night sky as he disappears.

~~~~~~~~~~

So that’s it for part two!! Thank y’all so much and I’ll be working on part three soon. :D

[majestyeverlasting]

Can you write prompt(s) 40 & 48 with Dad!Bucky x reader pls?

♡ Of course! Thanks for sending this request in! For the kids, I went ahead and used Jamie and Eden, who are in my Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader fics. There's cute and funny family ~shenanigans~ in this piece (and Eden ends up duping Bucky). I hope you like it!

♡ Prompt 40: "There it is. There's that smile."

♡ Prompt 48: "Those are my pajama pants. They're literally slipping down your waist."

♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)

No Such Thing as Winning By Default Tonight

The way Jamie and Eden greeted Bucky at the door always gave him something to look forward to, to cherish. They were bouncing on the balls of their feet as if it had been ages since they last saw him. In reality, it had only been a span of hours since he’d left that morning. And with sparkling eyes, they waited for him to take off his backpack and shrug off the leather jacket. You’d spent the day out with them, and they were ready to tell their father about everything. From checking out new books at the library, going to the park, and even getting snow cones.

As soon as Bucky finished putting his things in the closet, he scooped Eden up and kissed her cheek. And he pulled Jamie into a hug after giving him a fist bump—the gesture was something the boy insisted they started doing everyday because it was ‘cool.’ It was important not to forget the explosion fingers right after, because that’s what made fist bumps even cooler.

The kids talked a mile a minute as they told Bucky about their day—as if their lives depended on it. Hundreds of people had told him hundreds of things over the years and, yet, listening to their words—and yours—added a value to his life that he hadn't, or couldn’t find anywhere else in the world. A smile stretched across your face when he entered the living room with Jamie and Eden on either side of him. You were sitting on the couch with the laundry basket on the floor in front of you. Folding clothes that, admittedly, should’ve already been taken care of.

Bucky shot you a wink when your eyes met his, and you felt the smallest flutter in your stomach. After spending the day with children, you were glad to have some adult company again. It helped that he was particularly attractive in his unshaven state. “Hey, stranger,” you teased, affectionately. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad,” he said, draping his arms over the kids’ shoulders. “From what these two were telling me, it sounds like you guys went around the world while I was gone.”

That earned a laugh from you. “It feels like we did. I’m not moving for the next week.”

Jamie snorted. “But don’t you have to move? You can’t just stay still,” he said. “You’re moving right now to fold the clothes.”

You gave him a flat look, narrowing your eyes. Everyone else laughed. “Well, in that case, mister, how about you three come do it for me so I don’t have to move?” Your tone was playful.

“Uhhh... Dad can do it. I forgot how to fold,” he lied.

“‘Dad can do it?’” Bucky repeated, looking down at him in feigned disagreement. If you truly needed a break, or wanted any sort of additional help, he’d step in a heartbeat—he always did.

“Wait, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Eden spoke up, leaving her father’s side to plop beside you. “Do you want me to help, Mommy?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked out one of her shirts from the basket.

It was then that Jamie decided he was going to assist too. Instead of joining the two of you on the couch, however, he sat crossed-legged on the floor, and dug to the bottom of the basket in search of his favorite race car graphic tee. The way their brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. And because they were no longer glued to Bucky, he was able to lean down and press a kiss to your temple, hands bracing on the plush arm of the couch. Before he could pull too far away, you cupped his chin and directed his lips to yours in a brief kiss, sighing through your nose. You felt him smile upon hearing the kids’ quiet giggles.

Eden’s voice soon arose. “Hey, Mommy, look. Is this good enough?” Bucky pulled away and straightened back to his full height, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

On Eden’s lap was a white shirt printed with pink flowers that she had folded. “It looks great, E. Put it on the stack of your other stuff.” You pointed to the clothes of hers that you had already folded.

What you ended up finding later that evening was that one of the kids had accidentally placed Bucky’s navy blue pajama pants in your sleepwear drawer. Considering he was off in the playroom with them, you decided to put them on to go get a reaction out of him. You paired them with a gray V-neck.

When you walked in on him and the kids, they were winning in what appeared to be a play fight. They hovered over him as his back was against the floor. A helpless smile budded on your face as you stood watching in the doorway. He tried to prop himself up upon noticing you, but Jamie growled and pushed chest back down.

“Do you surrender?” He asked his father.

A laugh bubbled up Bucky’s throat. “Yes, I surrender.”

“I don’t believe him,” Eden told Jamie.

“I do! I promise,” Bucky said. “I just wanna talk to your mom.”

They let him sit up, and you caught the way his gaze traveled up your body. “Hey… those are my pajama pants,” he said, pushing himself from the floor to go stand in front of you. “They’re literally slipping down your waist.” To prove his point, he attempted to pull them up to a more proper resting place on your hips. But they slouched back down a bit when he let go.

“No they’re not," you challenged with a smile. "They’re mine."

“Oh, is that right?” He let his hands come to rest on your hips, and in turn you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. “They look good on you,” he said, voice low. And before you could register his intentions, he reached around you to squeeze your backside.

Bucky chuckled at your small squeak and dipped down for a kiss. He was gentle, and warm, and smelled woodsy. When he started to pull away, you thought it was way too soon. But, a second later, you realized it was because Jamie had started tugging on the back of his shirt.

You stifled a laugh at the way he rolled his eyes before turning around. “May I help you?” He asked the boy.

“Can we do one more round?” Jamie asked. “But this time you have to go harder on us.”

Eden came to stand beside her brother’s side. “Yeah! And Mommy can be on a team with me and Jamie,” she said.

Bucky looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You up for that?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Maybe I should just watch. These pants probably make me wardrobe malfunction prone.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll be fine.”

That assurance is what landed you in a four-person play fight. Per Jamie’s request, Bucky does exert a little more effort. But he was still overly mindful that nobody got hurt in any other way. For the first few moments, you drew back and let Jamie and Eden make most of the advances on their father. They practically cackled every time he pinned them.

But he eventually locked eyes with you, and you knew he wasn't going to let you remain in the background of the action anymore. All you could do was squeal when he made a very direct advancement. Because you were already kneeling, it didn’t take much for him to force you the rest of the way to the floor. It happened so swiftly that all you could do was let out a surprised huff of laughter. Somehow he managed to capture both of your wrist.

“He’s got Mommy!” You heard Eden say. Then she came to your rescue by pushing his shoulder to divert his attention.

In the sliver of time before Bucky walked on his knees to get the girl, Jamie did a discrete signal to her that she nodded to. All it was was a quick swipe of his pointer finger down his cheek. And between you and Bucky, only you caught their quick exchange. It took a second for it to click that he had told her to fake cry. Or pretend to be hurt, at least.

As soon as Bucky gathered Eden into his arms, and lowered her to the floor in the most gentle 'slam' ever, she enacted their scheme. From her lying position, she winced and released a soft whine. There was no possible way that what he did could've caused any pain, but Bucky didn't even rationalize that. The only thing that rang in his mind was that he'd just hurt his little girl.

“Shoot! I’m sorry, babydoll.” He repositioned to sit in a narrow straddle, and coaxed her up to sit on his thigh. The tenderness of his voice made you want to tell him that she was fine. "What hurts, hmm?" She just continued pouting. Jamie put a hand over his mouth to hide either a smile or shock that it actually worked.

Bucky sighed as his eyes flickered over to you. All you could do was offer an expression that was likely a mix between neutral and guilty. Then he redirected his attention back to Eden and started pressing consoling kisses to her hair. When he noticed her beginning to smile, relief flooded through him. “There it is. There’s that smile,” he said. "I really am sorry, sunshine. Didn't mean to hurt you."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "Daddy..." she said, voice tentative. "I was just kidding..."

Jamie was quick to pitch in. "I only told her to so we could win by default or something. At least she's actually okay, right?" The hopeful edge to his tone made you bite back a smile. "Mom was in on it too." Snitch.

Bucky's mouth fell slightly agape, but he let out a small laugh a second later, shaking his head. "Wow," he breathed. "'Win by default,' huh? Give me a heart attack to 'win by default.'" In all fairness, it had been a somewhat mean trick. But nothing he couldn't recover from.

"I didn't even know if you were gonna believe me!" Eden claimed. She squealed when he suddenly laid onto his back, taking her with him. The sound of their mixed laughter filled the room, and the energetic buzz returned to the atmosphere.

Then Bucky made a proposal to your team. "You guys are gonna have to come save little miss from my arms if you wanna win for real," he said. "No such thing as winning by default tonight."

-

Previously fulfilled request: Cold Little Paws.

[thatkpophoelife]

Jealousy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem. Reader (ft. Taehyung and NCT Jaehyung)

RATING: Mature 18+

GENRE: NonIdol Au. Highschool Au. Smut. Fluff 

WC: 8K

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook have been best friends since the beginning of time. You spent every waking moment together until one night your at a party and the feelings you have been trying to keep inside decide they want to erupt and make your life harder than you ever could have expected. 

WARNINGS: Swearing. under aged drinking. Big dick Jungkook. Oral (Fem. Rec.) Nipple Play. Fingering (Fem. Rec.) Multiple Orgasms. Cream Pie. Unprotected Sex. Slight Daddy Kink. Slight degradation (hardly mentioned). Thigh Ridding. 

A/N: I’m so happy I’m finally done with it. I am so happy with the result. I have been working hard for the last few days getting this ready to post so sorry if anything is spelt wrong or doesn’t make sense. ENJOY! 

You and Jungkook have been best friends since the first grade. It all started when you fell off the monkey bars during recess. Your palms and knees were bloody and scraped. The cement was rough against your skin and you could see those small little rocks in the small cuts on your hands. As a little kid they seemed way worse than they really were. You were scared you would need to go to the doctors for stiches and then they would need to give you a shot. You were like 7, things like that terrified you.

When you looked up through your watery eyes, you could see a little boy with cute cheeks, deep brown eyes, and bangs. You looked back down at the ground and wiped off your cheeks and nose. When you looked back up you saw the same boy but with his hand out for you to grab. You reached out to grab it and he pulled you up with a huge grin and a huff.

“I’m Jungkook but my friends call me Kookie.”

“I'm Y/N. Thanks for helping me up Jungkook.” You though it had a nice ring to it.

“No problem. I have a band aid in my pocket, you can have it”

“Really? Thanks.” When he handed you the band aid you couldn’t help but notice it had a small picture of Woody from Toy Story on it.

In the days that went by, you two hung out nonstop. He told you almost everything that you could learn about a 7-year-old. You learned his birthday was September 1st, he has an older brother named SeokJin that everyone calls Jin, he likes pizza, and loves soccer. You knew other things of course, but those were just some of the basics.

You became best friends extremely fast and spent most of your summer together. You went to the beach more than once a week. Your parents became friends with his parents and there was no going back on this friendship now. You did develop a teensy tiny basically non-existent crush on Jin but it quickly went away when Jungkook called you out on it and asked you to never see his brother in that light again. You agreed because even though you were only now 8, you still had your priorities and Jungkook was in the top 3.  

By the time second grade came around he asked you, aka forced you, into joining his soccer team so you could “spend more time together.” You whined for the entire first practice. Since your mom was excited to finally see you doing a sport, she put your hair up in pigtails and bought you neon pink knee socks with a just as neon yellow visor. You were not happy. When you got to the field you felt out of place and like everyone was laughing at you. Those worries effected how you played. Just because you never played the sport before doesn’t mean you weren’t somewhat decent at it.

You knew how to dribble kind of well and you had decent aim when trying to make the ball in the net. But your real strong suit was goalie. You were never afraid of the ball or of getting hurt. If you needed to you would gladly dive for the ball if that’s what your team needed to win a game. You were never a girly girl so getting dirt on your knees never bothered you.

Despite all of this you still didn’t want to try out. Your mom was loud and never stopped cheering your name, no matter where you were. You had no other siblings so it’s not like she had anywhere else to be. She had her own small company that way she could create her own schedule and get to go to anything you wanted her to and as far as she knew that was everything. All of your class field trips, sport games, school plays, everything. You were too nervous to tell her otherwise because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You know that she only went overboard because she loves you so much but sometimes you wished she loved you a little less. And your dad was always busy with his 9-5 job so he never went to any of your things.

You never stopped playing though. You ended up enjoying the sport more than you could have expected. It was even more enjoyable since you were actually good at it, you always got to be goalie in all of your games. You and Jungkook were actually the star players on your co-ed team. And whenever Jungkook would ask you about why you still played even though you “didn’t like it that much” you always said you liked it enough to continue playing and that you had nothing better to do. You knew deep down that he knew you enjoyed the sport just as much as him, but you also knew he would never call you out on it.  

You won almost all of your games, and you and Jungkook always fought over who deserved the trophy’s. Your argument was that the goalie was a key role to stop the other team from scoring. Jungkook’s was that he made most of the goals to keep your teams score up too high for the other team to ever catch up. It always came to a vote among your teammates, Jungkook always won and you knew it was because most of the girls had a crush on him and wanted him to like them back.

Besides that, nothing exciting happend in your friendship for a while. You spent a lot of time playing soccor in parks and when it was soccor season. You spent all of your summers together and both you’re your guys’ parent let you two get a golden retriever to take care of named Olive the summer before 6th grade. She was staying at Jungkook’s though because it was his idea in the first place. It didn’t mean you never go to see her there. You spent half of your summer there so you saw her a lot.

In your summer of 7th grade Olive got hit by a truck. You were both devasted and Jungkook spent a week at your house. All because Jin forgot to let Olive in at night so she decided to run. Jungkook didn’t talk to Jin for almost a month.

Then in 8th grade a boy named Park Jimin decided to throw a “End of the Summer Almost Freshmen in High-School” party. In reality it was more like ten people that were all in some way shape or form a part of his friend circle. You were invited because they needed another girl to come and Jungkook talked you up so much Jimin had no choice.

The night was all fun and games until his parents went to bed. He quickly grabbed an empty 16-liter Coca-Cola bottle and sat it in the middle of the floor and had everyone gather around in a circle. You were beyond nervous considering you hardly knew any of the boys that were playing and you have never had you first kiss.

A few rounds went by and nothing particularly interesting happened. Jimin kissed some girl named Emily that you didn’t like that much anyways. Then it was Jungkook’s turn. He spun it and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It felt as if the bottle was spinning non-stop. Past Emily, past Nichole, past Maddison, past Jimin, past everyone else. Then it stopped, and pointed at you.

You felt your heart speed up. You couldn’t kiss your best friend. It was wrong in so many ways. But the chanting of your names in the background couldn’t go unnoticed. You had no choice but to kiss him. Well, you kind of did but you were hoping that by doing something like this people will start to like you more and not look at you as Jungkook’s best friend. You both sat up and looked each other in the eyes.

Slowly the rest of the world started to silently drift away. You don’t know if it was because everyone around you stopped talking to watch the kiss or because you were to focused on Jungkook and nothing else. His right hand slowly went to up to your caress your cheek while his left hand was on the floor keeping him balanced. You couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. The way they traveled from your pupils, to the tip of your nose, and finally landing on your lips. The way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your cheek leaving a burning sensation wherever it touched. The way he locked eyes with you one last time to make sure he had your permission first.

You noticed that the second you nodded your head giving him permission; he didn’t waste a second to kiss you. The kiss was soft but urgent. Like you both have been waiting for this very moment for so long. Once he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and gave you a look you would never forget. He smirked.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in absolute confusion and utter disbelief. Did he want that kiss to happen? Did he do that because the guys were watching? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew, was that you’ve had a huge crush on your best friend since the very beginning.

Ever since that day he helped you up from the dirty ground when your hands and knees you scraped and bloody. Ever since he told you it was a good idea to co-own a puppy. Ever since the last day of middle school when you took a selfie jumping with glee. These feelings had been hiding ever since the beginning, and Jungkook’s lips was the only thing to break down the barriers and release those feelings.

You didn’t bother to sit back down in the circle. You wanted to go home, needed to go home. You didn’t want to wake up your parents and ask them to pick you up. You also didn’t want to walk through the door and have them ask why you came home. You knew exactly what to do.

Call Jin.

He answered on about the fourth ring. “Hello?” said the course and tired voice from the other line. You felt bad the second you heard him speak because you knew you woke him up.

“Hey Jin. Umm I was wondering if you could pick me up from the party?” You were prepared to literally beg him to come pick you up.

“Whatever. It’s the same house Kookie’s at, right?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t even need to ask twice.

“That is very correct. I will be ready and waiting outside for you to pull up.”

“Loser. I will be there in 10, don’t make me wait.” You couldn’t help but smile widely while you were getting you stuff together and putting your shoes on.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You have got to be kidding.

“Hey Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here. I was invited” You can see it written all over his cute little bunny face that he was so confused.

“I- I'm just not feeling too well, I'm going home” You couldn’t help the painfully obvious stutter as you lied to your best friend’s face.

“How, it’s a sleep over? Your mom won’t be thrilled if you called her at 1 o’clock in the morning.”

“I already called someone, and they should be here any minute now so you can go back and enjoy kissing those other girls.” What did you just say? You couldn’t stop the words before they came out. Would that be how he found out you liked him? Is that the sentence that would ruin your friendship? Sometimes you felt so very stupid.

“Okay I will.” With that he walked back to continue the game of spin the bottle with a huge smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but stare, eyes wide and mouth agape. You couldn’t help but wonder if that kiss meant nothing to him. As far as you knew that was his first kiss, and it was most defiantly yours.

As you were lost in your dark cloud of thoughts, your phone dinged making you jump a little. It was Jin texting you that he was already there to pick you up. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting him to be here this fast.

You quickly picked your bag off of the ground, slipped on your black and white checkered Vans, and made your way out the door. When you got to Jin’s car, you quickly threw your stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where to Y/N?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was wearing a simple grey Champion hoodie with black Nike joggers. His hair was all messy from sleeping and the moon perfectly aligned his features. You couldn’t lie, Jin was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, but you prefer guys closer to your age. Plus, you like the younger brother anyway. Hey snap out of it you need to not like your best friend.

“Um, Y/N? Where do you want me to take you because if you don’t speak up, I will take you straight home.”

“Oh, sorry. Can I just crash at your guys’ place? I know Kookie’s not there but I don’t want my parents asking questions and to yell at me for waking you up.” Yes, you were playing the, ‘please don’t rat me out’ card. But you weren’t lying to him so what’s the problem?

“Sure, just sleep in Kook’s bed. You tend to snore sometimes.” He reached over to ruffle your hair with a huge grin on his face

“Hey! I do not snore!” You felt like a 5-year-old throwing a fit with the way you pouted out your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your chest, and sank into the seat.

“Whatever dork. Why do you want to leave early anyways? Did something happen?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned, and he was crazy good at keeping secrets so what was the harm in telling him about your mild crush on his little brother.

“At the party after Jimin’s parents went to sleep we all played spin the bottle and when it was Kookie’s turn I suddenly was really really nervous it would land on one of the other girls and I didn’t know why but then it landed on me and we kissed and now I think I have a moderately huge crush on him that I never realized I had before and I'm kind of freaking out. Don’t tell anybody though please,” You finally took a breath after your long and wordy run on sentence.

“You’re just now realizing?” Jin had a huge smile on his face and was laughing but you had no idea why.

“What do you mean ‘you’re just now realizing?’” You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Y/N you and Jungkook obviously have had huge crushes on each other for like ever. He admitted his to me a while ago.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and you knew you would ask Jungkook about it the next time you saw him.

“Can you just take me to your place. It’s late and I'm tired,” After your friendly reminder Jin drove off to his house so you could sleep. He didn’t poke and prod at it any more and you were grateful. Jin was the older brother you never had and you were the little sister he always wanted.

When you woke up Jungkook was already there. You told him about how Jungkook told him that he had a crush on you. Jungkook shot you down almost immediately saying it was just a way to attempt to humiliate him. You felt hurt. Your best friend of years and your huge crush basically said it would be humiliating to have a crush on you. Lucky for you, you left very shortly after and spent your weekend preparing for your first year of high school and getting over your crush on Jungkook. Mostly.

****

Your freshman year was chaotic. You and Jungkook had only a few classes together so you almost drifted apart. It didn’t help that ever since the party Jungkook seemed to be hiding something from you. Something big. The only thing that kept you close was soccor and Jin. But after first semester Jungkook started hanging out with seniors and going to parties. You asked to go once, thinking that he would stay by your side and not let you be taken away by some guy you didn’t know. That wasn’t the case.

Once you entered through the doors Jungkook quickly left your side and got drunk. You caught him in a corner making out with a girl you had never seen before. Then you watched as he pulled her away to a room. Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed close behind. After a minute of them being alone in a room you began hearing moans. You were destroyed.

You quickly made your way to the door so you could go back home, when you ran into a very beautiful man. He couldn’t have been much older than you. He had beautiful chestnut hair and two beautiful dimples. You didn’t even bother asking for his name once you saw the mischievous glint in his eye. You let him lead you to a room, know what was going to happen.

That was how you lost your virginity. It wasn’t special liked you hoped it was going to be. You later learned his name was Jaehyun. It didn’t matter because you didn’t plan on talking to him again. Neither of you wanted anything more than sex that night.

You and Jungkook got into a fight one night. You don’t know what happened to start the fight. All you remember is that it ended with both of you in tears and him hugging you like he never wanted to let go. You made up and everything that happened before that was forgotten. Mostly.

You spent the rest of your school years studying hard and getting through all of your actual difficult classes so the only non-elective class you were taking senior year was your English class. Which you had with Jungkook, of course. You spent your summers with him and you both made it into varsity soccor. He knew the truth about your love for soccor when he heard you talking to your mom about it.

You still hadn’t had a boyfriend yet in your sophomore year. You were just too busy with school to actually try to get a dude’s attention, and you said your junior year was going to be different. You would meet a guy, get Jungkook’s approval, fall in love, have the ‘break up talk’ when you sign up for college, and most likely do just that, break up. The only key problem is that whenever you were walking in the halls and saw a cute guy Jungkook would always say he was a dick and that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You tended not to ask questions.

But now you were standing in front of your full-length body mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in your outfit and occasionally touching up your make up or hair. Your first day of senior year outfit was simple but was sure to turn heads. You opted for a tight-fitted white crop top that showed your cleavage, skinny ripped jeans that hugged your ass perfectly that also had a rip under your left ass cheek, and your black heeled Timberland’s. Your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup looked flawless. You asked Jungkook to bring one of his black leather jackets for you to wear over everything. Damn you looked good.

Just as you were shaking out any last nervous jitters you heard a honk, indicating that your best friend was here to pick you up. You quickly grabbed your bag, ran down stairs, and grabbed two slices of toast for breakfast. Saying by to your parents you turned the nob of the door handle and ran out towards Jungkook’s car. As you opened the door to his red convertible, he looked at you and his jaw dropped. You missed the way his eyes scanned your figure and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. He was eating you up in his mind, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Hey Kookie, do you have the jacket I asked for?” You handed him a piece of toast as your put on your seatbelt, shaking him out of his trance as he gave you said jacket.

“Ready for our first day? You’re going to be turning heads in that outfit,” You missed the way his eyes snuck a glance at your cleavage before driving off.

“I know right. I’ve been single all of high school so far and this year I want that to change.” You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you spoke. “I like your outfit by the way, it’s nice.” He was wearing black skinny jeans, black doc martins, a black tee, and a black faux leather jacket. And because of Jungkook’s new found passion of working out his thighs looked incredible.

“Thanks. Are we still going out to lunch so we don’t need to eat cafeteria food?”

“Duh, what else, and chew with your mouth closed you look like a 7-year-old.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook did not miss the small and simple gesture.  

“Hey! You’re the one who became friends with this 7-year-old.”

“That’s not fair you were an angel sent from heaven, my savior. Now you’re just a jack-ass.

“I know you love me.”

“Jungkook what would you know. At first you thought that 7x7 was 64.”

“Oh my god woman will you just drop that I was in 3rd grade.” You both just laughed at each other’s silly antics from when you were younger until you pulled into the school’s parking lot. The second you stood up and walked over to walk in with your best friend, every one stopped and stared. It felt like one of those dramatic movie scenes where the wind is blowing and everything turns into slow motion while you hear the main characters internal monolog.

“Why is everyone staring at us, is something in my teeth? Did my makeup smudge?” You pulled at the side of his jacket making him lean down so you could whisper in his ear. Just because you were walking in 4-inch heels did not make you as tall as him.

“No dummy. We look like the ultimate power couple right now. The hottest girl and guy in school, of course they’re staring.” You were so busy nodding your head and looking at other people that you didn’t catch the way his eyes fell to the curve of your ass.

You walked into school going to your respectable homerooms, then meeting up in the hall to go to your shared English class. You noticed that the popular girls kept trying to befriend you. You knew it was because you were now a threat and they did not want you to be prom queen. Last year you weren’t but guess who was, Emily. You still didn’t like each other. You don’t know why you didn’t get along but it’s not like you wanted to be her friend or something.

You and Jungkook sat down next to each other talking about how weird the day had been. People were still staring but who could blame them, you both had huge summer glow ups.

When you looked up at the clock hanging above the door, you notice a boy you’ve never seen before. He was incredibly attractive and had a beautiful symmetric face. You felt like you were drooling while you stared at him. Then he looked over at you and smiled. How the hell does a man’s smile look like that. You finally met the man that would actually rival Jungkook’s own good looks.

“Hey can I sit here?” You jumped when he asked the question, not expecting his voice to also sound hot.

“Yeah, Y/N by the way.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead of shaking it he placed an opened mouth kissed on your knuckles. Wow he was hot. It made your thighs clench. Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” You were so entranced by this new boy’s handsome good looks you didn’t see the terrifying daggers Jungkook was sending his way. He read him like a book. He would lead a girl on, take her innocence, and then leave her out to dry.

Jungkook didn’t just guess this either, he had Taehyung’s snapchat and snapped him one summer after he saw him at a party. Taehyung had told Jungkook his tactics, and Jungkook even went to his house where he witnessed him use those very tactics.

“There’s a party at my house Saturday night around 10 pm, if you give me your number, I can text you the details and you can come.” You turned to Jungkook giving him hopeful eyes until he sighed and nodded. After all you don’t go to a party without your best friend.

“As long as Jungkook, my best friend since 1st grade might I add, can come with.” You weren’t going without him and that was that. Taehyung agreed without hesitation and you gave him your number. You quickly regretted it though because once he opened his mouth you lost interest extremely quickly.

All he could seem to talk about was all of the girls he’s hooked up with and how he could get any girl he wanted. You knew what he was trying to get at and became bored very fast. You were actually extremely grateful when the class started.

You and Jungkook passed notes the entire time, all about the egotistical boy next to you. And even though you didn’t like him, you would go to his party because you wanted to actually live a little your senior year. But sadly, one potential future boyfriend was out the door and you were back at square one.

The rest of the week passed by fast and because you had mostly easy elective classes you had no homework over the weekend for the first time in years. Which meant you had all sorts of time to party. You texted Jungkook to pick you up at around 9 so you would have time to get ready but still be at the party in time.

****

You woke up around noon on Saturday from your alarm. You didn't wake up because you wanted to but because you didn’t want to ruin the sleep schedule you didn’t even have. Why did you wake up again? Anyways once you woke up from you slumber you texted Jungkook to clear up some last-minute details.

 Y/N

are you up yet? I just woke up. why dont I wake up like disney princesses?? I look like a monster :(

Kookie

Disney princesses are pretty thats why you don’t look like them in the morning or ever for that matter

Y/N

stfu your no prince charming either

Kookie

Really? Then why would almost every girl in our school blow me???

Y/N

If thats the case then why don’t you get some so you can stop complaining to me about how horny you always are??

Kookie

Because I have my right eye some one

Y/N

WHO?!?! and why havent I heard about this until now?? and why just your right eye??

Kookie

Because not EVERYTHING is your business smartypants and dont talk about my left eye

Y/N

whatever I will find out about this mystery girl though… MARK MY WORDS!! YOULL BE JUNGSHOOK

Kookie

Whatever you say smartypants whyd you text me anyways?

Y/N

Right! your still picking me up, RIGHT?!

Kookie

Its you’re, but yes I'm still picking you up

Y/N

Good, I will be ready in 3-4 hours :)

Kookie

You do know the party is at like 10 right

Y/N

THEN JUST PICK ME UP AT 10 GOD DAMNIT

Kookie

Not how you spell dammit but alright

Y/N

Stfu english nerd and good bye until 10

 With that your conversation with Jungkook ended and you started to binge watch Haikyu!! until around 6. Then you rolled out of bed and started getting ready. You got into the shower, shaving everything. You didn’t know what was going to happen tonight so you figured you would be extra prepared. You even used your exfoliator, if you anyone got to touch you, they would be lucky.

Then you did your hair. You curled it perfectly and then put it in a high pony tail. Perfect party hair in your opinion. Then you did your makeup making sure to keep it simple yet amazing. You opted for a winged liner, perfectly done brows, and dark red lipstick. Lastly was your outfit. Your room was a complete mess after you threw half of your closet onto the floor but your pretty sure you found a great outfit.

You put on your matching set of black lacy lingerie that made your ass look good and your boobs even better. You than grabbed a different white crop top with a dangerously low cut making your black lace peak out from the sides and small booty shorts that barely covered your ass. Then you grabbed the same leather jacket you wore on your first day of school and put on a pair of sneakers. You went to that party with Jungkook once so you knew how crazy and disgusting the ground could be.

By the time you were completely done it was already 8:47. You didn’t think it would take quite that long to get ready but at the same time you did. You were touching up your makeup when Jungkook texted you he was waiting. You didn’t tell your parents about the fact that you were going to a party and they knew that if they saw you dressed the way you were, they would flip. So like any other teen, you made plans to sneak out.

The only person you to actually worry about catching you was your dad because you knew if your mom caught you, she would laugh at you and tell you to have fun. Your dad on the other hand not so much.

Jungkook parked a block down from your house and turned off his car headlights so he wouldn’t be as noticeable. You opened your window as quietly was possible and began to scale your wall. Thankful that your bedroom window was the one closest to the gutter and that you chose sneakers as your shoes. Once you hit the ground safely, you bolted for Jungkook’s car and got in as fast as you could.

“Hey cutie,” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows. Luckily for him, his car lights were off so you didn’t catch him gaping at your breasts.

“Sup, you ready to party?” You asked as he turned on the car and started to drive where the GPS told him.

“Yes, now remember no sleeping with some random dude and no drugs”

“Same to you mister”

“Ok so if you want to stay out late text your mom and ask if you can spend the night at my house because my parents are out of town and Jin is going to this food thing with his friends for like three days.” Jungkook said as he merged into traffic.

“Good idea,” You pulled out your phone and texted your mom knowing she would understand much better than your father. “She said that’s fine”.

“Good so if you get hung over you don’t need to try and explain it to your mom,” Damn was Jungkook always this smart, and did he always look this good.

After driving the rest of the way, you pulled into Taehyung’s house and you were awestruck. It was huge and surrounded by hedges. You couldn’t see another house within a mile which was good because that means the cops won’t be called because of noise complaints.

You stepped out of Jungkook’s car and walked into Taehyung’s house immediately being greeted with the smell of alcohol and weed. You quickly got separated from Jungkook and made your way to the kitchen to fill a red solo cup half full with some beer you found and apple juice. You slammed it down, wincing as it made its way down your throat. It wasn’t the best tasting but it was better than the beer by itself.

Once you were done making yourself the same drink again, you made your way outside and found a huge pool with a jacuzzi right by it. You scanned the area, seeing a couple making out in the pool and three boys you didn’t quite recognize playing around in the pool. As you continued looking around taking another sip of your drink you noticed something strange. Standing next to the pool was Jungkook and Emily.

She was twirling her hair in her fingers and giggling while Jungkook looked her up and down smirking the entire time.

You know you’ve been telling Jungkook to get a girlfriend for years now, but you thought he knew you were just joking. For some odd reason you were upset. You didn’t know why at first. Maybe because you didn’t like Emily, maybe because you didn’t want Emily to steal him away from you. You were Jealous. You hated when it hit you like a pile of bricks. But you definitely  intended on doing something about it.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink in your red solo cup hoping it would give you more courage, and made your way over to them.

“Hey Jungkook I need to talk to y-,” You were walking towards him and before you knew it you were falling into the pool. Your first thought was that you tripped but when you resurfaced from the water you saw Emily looking at you with a sly grin. All you could do was glare.

“Oops,” Emily snickered as she grabbed out her phone and took several pictures of you. Great now your hot ass makeup and hair was completely ruined. Shit you’re wearing a WHITE shirt and BLACK bra that are now wet. You looked down to confirm it and sure enough your shirt was more than see-through. AND Jungkook’s leather jacket was ruined. At least you wore sneakers.

“What the fuck Emily,” You were startled from your stare down with the girl when you heard Jungkook’s low voice. It was loud and honestly kind of turned you on. Wait you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that. You shook the thought out of your head and looked up at Jungkook. His fists were balled up at his sides and his jaw was clenched. He looked fine as hell.

As you slowly made your way to the side of the pool, he took off his leather jacket and knelt down. Once you got to the side he reached down with both arms, inserted his hands under your armpits, and hoisted you out of the water. He then helped you take off his ruined leather jacket and threw it at Emily. “Happy now?” He then took his perfectly fine leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders instructing you to hold it closed. “Come on let’s go get you cleaned up.” He bent down and whispered it into your ear causing shivers to go down your spin. You could only nod in response.

As he led you towards the doors of the house, he yanked his jacket from Emily’s hand and gave her one of the scariest looks you’ve ever seen. All you did was smirk and stick your tongue out at her like a 5-year-old. You were very satisfied.

He led you through the crowd of people dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t in a public setting. He then led you to what you assumed was going to be a bathroom but ended up being a bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew his way around so well.

When you entered the room, you realized it was huge with a bathroom connected to it. “Why did you take me here instead of a normal bathroom?” You asked.

“Because most likely they are occupied by other people and I don’t really want to walk in on some other couple having sex. Especially when I'm with you.” What was that supposed to mean? “And before you ask how I know my way around, I used to be sort of friends with Tae. I only came here once when he tried hooking me up with some random chick and I guessed I just remembered my way around.” He was so honest so easily.

“Did you do anything with the chick?” You felt stupid the moment you asked.

“What?” You don’t know if he didn’t hear you or what but you still asked again.

“Did you do anything with her, the girl he tried hooking you up with?” You felt pathetic.

“I told you have my right eye on someone else.” He said leading you into the bathroom.

“Who is this lucky girl anyways?” You asked sitting on the sink countertop while you took off Jungkook’s jacket.

He paused, “Let’s just say, I played a game of spin the bottle at Jimin’s house before freshman year started. I kissed her. She was the only person I kissed that night. I realized that I had a massive crush on her but she left and felt hella crushed. I stopped playing and couldn’t help but feel like I was losing her forever. But I still spend all of my spare time with her and I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Deep down I’m afraid that she will never like me back because of the girls I slept with freshman year but I want her to know that I only did that to try and convince myself that it I wasn’t in love with her. After I found out she slept with some random guy one night at a party that I took her to I came to my senses and let myself love her. I still regret the night I took her to that party because I wish I was the one to get to take her innocence away.”

You looked at him, you mouth agape, “oh” You knew he was talking about you.

You watched his eyes dart down to your lips as his tongue poked out lick his. His hands drifted down and grabbed your waist softly, just in case you wanted to stop him. He slowly leaned down, brushing your hair behind your ear and whispering in a deep raspy tone that made your panties wet, “You can stop me at any time”.

Within moments his soft, plush lips were on yours. Your hands made their way up his back and intertwined into his black curly locks, tugging harshly. Jungkook let out a low groan that made your body hot. One of his hands crept up and lightly brushed against your nipple making you gasp into the kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste any time and immediately his tongue was exploring your mouth.

Once you broke the kiss, gasping for air, Jungkook placed his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up, causing goosebumps to emit across your body. He carried you out of the bathroom, throwing you on the bed. You watched as he took off his shirt and crawled over you. You’ve seen him shirtless many times but this time it was different. You happy felt up his chest and you didn’t have to worry about him questioning you because he was kneeling over you, devouring you with his eyes.

Before you knew it, he was trying to take your shirt off. You gladly assisted him, pulling off your bra along with it. Once it was off and you looked up at him, you felt shy. Jungkook was just staring at your chest and wasn’t saying anything.

“Do you need to make it obvious that you don’t like my boobs?” Your hands went up to cover yourself. You were always insecure about them.

“Your right Y/N I don’t like your boobs; I fucking love them,” He quickly moved your hands away and leaned down. His mouth connected with your nipple, his tongue making your back arch into him. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second. His teeth gently grazed your nipple and you let out a loud whimper. You really hoped your great-grandma wasn’t watching you right now.

He left of your nipple with a pop and kissed his way to your other, leaving small hickeys marking his path. He did the same things to this one. You couldn’t wait anymore and moved your hand down to your core. You needed some sort of friction, but Jungkook’s hand stopped you.

“Ungrateful slut. I’m giving you all of this pleasure and you can’t wait. I want you to ride my thigh and maybe if I like what I see I’ll let you finish more than once tonight,” You looked at him in awe. When the fuck did he learn to talk like that. It was hot as hell but still.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. You werent sure what to do, so he pulled you onto his thigh. You froze up right away. You were straddling his thigh too afraid to do anything. He looked you dead in the eyes as his hands went down to your waist, forcing you to move. Relief flooded you. You were so happy that he finally let you have some sort of friction.

Your hands went to rest on his shoulders so it was easier to hold yourself up. You quickly started doing all of the work. Moving yourself at a fast pace on Jungkook’s thigh. You could feel his hard through his pants and it only made you more needy. He continuously clenched his thigh making you come undone even faster.

“Oh my god Jungkook. I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna cu-,” You let out shaky breath feeling that familiar knot build up in your stomach. Right as you were about to snap Jungkook stopped your hips from moving.

“Did you really think I was going to let you cum already? Go lay down.” You obeyed him quickly, watching as he kneeled down at the end of the bed. He grabbed your pants and with one swift motion slid them off, throwing them somewhere else in the room.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you. This good little pussy” He ripped your panties off of you, eliciting a loud groan. You were becoming impatient, squirming in front of him. He used his hand to hold your hips in place, while his other went to rub delicate circles on your clit. You watched as his face dove into you. Licking a stripe up your folds, collecting all of your juices.

“Fuck Y/N. You taste so good.” He groaned out, quickly diving back in. His eyes were blown out in hunger. He moved his hand away from your clit and replaced it with his tongue. Sliding one finger in you, moving at a slow pace and curling it, reaching your g-spot. A loud moan escaped you as you started trying to rock your hips against his face. Interlacing your fingers in his locks.

He pulled away to take a breath, “Do you think you can handle to fingers? Gotta prepare my baby for later. Yeah? I'm gonna stretch you out so good. Gonna destroy this pussy.” With that he inserted a second finger into you, reattacking your clit with his tongue. His pace kept intensifying. You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach build.

“Fuck Jungkook. I'm gonna-,” your words turned into a drawn-out moan when he hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me baby.” At that, the knot it your stomach snapped and relief washed over your body. You tried closing your legs but Jungkook held them open.

Once he was done lapping up all of your juices, he moved up and kissed you, hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands made their way down to undo Jungkook’s pants. He broke away from the kiss and stood up, pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

You stared at his member for a second in awe. You knew he was big, but no that big. The tip was an angry red and you could see the veins. You were growing wetter just thinking about the delicious stretch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said “I'm gonna have to go in raw.”

You smiled up at him, bucking your hips up towards his hard to get some sort of friction. “I'm on birth control.” That was all you needed to say before he slowly started entering you. The stretch being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked worry on his face. You shook your head, “It’s just, new.”

He smiled, “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment you shook your head, giving him the okay to start moving again. He slowly pulled out all the way before pushing in again, hitting your g-spot as he did. You could feel the veins on his cock, and your legs wrapped around his small waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

He slowly started to pick up the pace, pulling out all of the way before pushing back in. It wasn’t long before the pain morphed into pleasure. Moans spilling from your lips. The louder you moaned the faster he went.

“Ha-harder, da-daddy,” you didn’t mean to say it, but when you did his head snapped up.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He starting snapping his hips into yours. You could hear the head board hitting the wall with each thrust but you didn’t mind at all. All you felt was bliss.

“Da-addy I-I'm gonna c-cum.” Your walls started clenching around him.

“Fuck baby, cum. Cum for daddy” With that you did. Your release hit you hard. Your legs shaking as you dug your nails into his back piercing a few layers of his skin. Moaning out his name.

Even after you came, he kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he did. Your moans making him close. His body was coated in a layer of sweat.

“Cum in me daddy. Please. Fill me up.” You choked out as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum.” You tightened around him one last time, feeling as his seed shot into you. You both laid there for a moment. Neither one wanting to leave. You could feel your mixed juicing seeping out of your whole as he began to soften inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you, “You need to go to the bathroom.” He picked you up bridal style from the bed and walked you over to the bathroom. Setting you down on the toilet so you could pee. When you were done, he picked you up and set you on the counter, taking a warm rag and cleaning you off making you sigh at the pleasant feeling. He carried you back to the bed and laid you down, getting into his boxers.

He laid down next to you and covered you both with the blanket, before wrapping his arm around tightly around your waist. His chin on your head as he cuddled you. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off to sleep

****

When you woke up and saw your best friend next to you, sleeping peacefully, you were relieved. Relieved that it wasn’t a dream and relieved that he didn’t up and leave in the middle of the night to leave because he regretted it. You leaned over and draped your arm over his torso and snuggled up to him, resting you head on his arm. He groaned, making you halt your actions.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said with a smile, kissing you on the top of your head.

You smiled happy it was him you woke up next to, “Morning.”

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. :) Send any ideas you have for anything. P.S The gif wouldn’t load :( so sorry about that. 

[tacticaldiary]

Not Jealous

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Impossible...so what was this horrible feeling clawing at his chest, urging him to do something about Denki getting a little too friendly? Why does he feel the need to punch something. Jealousy is an ugly thing as Bakugou finds out. 

Masterlist

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He hated this. He didn't care, but at the same time he hated it. 

The way Y/N threw her head back to laugh or, god forbid, giggle at something Dunce Face over there had said made his blood boil for some reason. The way he had his arm thrown around her made him want to punch something, and the obvious, lazy flirting made him want to yell at someone. 

The whole class was lounging in the living room, Bakugou sitting on one of the couches next to Y/N and Denki. He was in full hearing range of the terrible jokes and laughs. Every now and then he chances a glance to them.

It doesn’t help his rising temper

Why was Dunce Face the one who got to be near Y/N? Why the hell was he allowed to touch her? Obviously it’s not like he cared or anything. He didn’t care that he wanted to be the one sitting next to Y/N, no that was just stupid. 

It’s not like his heart fucking fluttered everytime she shot him a smile, or offered to spar with him. Nope. Not like he admired how she was one of the only people who didn’t take his bullshit, or how headstrong and confident and powerful she was, how she practically radiated every time she walked in the room, or even how he went out of his way to be around her. 

It wasn’t his fault she needed obvious tutoring to get her 95% up to a 100%. Not his fault their quirks were compatible and they were usually assigned to train together. She obviously needed to be walked to recovery girl every time she got hurt, who knows what stupid shit she’d pull if no one accompanied her, (granted he was always the one who insisted on taking her, fuck off Deku.).

Any extra time they spent together was purely coincidental, and...fuck he was in love-

The day Bakugou had realised it was when he was walking her to her dorm. The grateful smile she’d given him accompanied with a “Thank you, Katsuki.” had quite literally knocked the breath out of him. He loved the way his name sounded on her lips. 

“What the hell, Denki!?” Y/N’s laugh rings through the room. That most definitely was not his name. He turns to them, his scowl deepening as he sees Y/N grab his arm to keep herself upright. Denki laughs with her, looking highly amused. Bakugou's eyes linger on them and something claws at his chest, a horrible emotion that makes him want to snatch you away, as far away from Dunce Face as possible. 

The loud bang the echoes through the room startles everyone into silence. Bakugou rises to his feet and swears, grabbing onto his left hand, which he had accidentally ignited. One of the pillows behind him was scorched black, the smell of burnt cotton filling the room. He rarely every loses control of his quirk like that, regardless of how small the explosion was. 

“Kacchan-?”

“Bakugo, you-”

“Holy shit! You okay?” Y/N is the first to react, cutting Izuku and Kirishima off and standing, walking over to Bakugou.She grabs his hand and brings it up to examine it for any damage. If it were anyone else they would have had their face blown off by now “Why’d you-”

“Shut up.” he says lowly, glaring at her, before harshly ripping his hand away and turning on heel, stalking up into the hallway, to his room presumably. He was still fuming, now the added anger of having lost control like that adding to the frustration. 

Shutting the door, he looks down at his hands and sighs. In the confinements of his own personal space, he allows himself to think properly. Fuck, he hated this, he hated feeling like this.

He ignores the knock on the door, plopping down on his desk chair. He knew full well who it was, and he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. The knocking continues and is this time accompanied by a familiar voice. 

“Don’t be an asshole, I know you’re in there! Open the door.”

Ignoring seems to work, he thinks...he thinks wrong. Before he can react, he hears the doorknob turn and the sound of the door creaking open tells him that he foolishly forgot to lock the door. He spins the chair to glare at Y/N

“The fuck do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been acting more pissy than usual today.” She states closing the door behind her with a click. 

“Keep wondering then.”

“It would be much easier if you just told me.” She crosses her arms.

Bakugou shrugs with a scowl. “Shouldn’t you be out there? Wouldn’t wanna waste your precious quality time with Dunce Face now would you?” His scowl becomes harsher at the thought. Y/N pauses, silence filling the space between them for a few seconds. 

“You’re...oh my god, Katsuki, are you...jealous or something?” She asks, snickering a little. 

“What the hell? I’m not jealous.” He gets to his feet and yells, fists clenched. He wasn't jealous.

“You are! You’re jealous! Katsuki Bakugou is jealous!” Y/N laughs, ignoring the murderous look on the others face. Before she knows it, she’s yanked forward by her collar, close to a very much seething Bakugou. 

“I’m not jealous, you little shit.” He growls lowly, his fist bunching the front of Y/N’s shirt. 

“Your actions tell me otherwise.” Her eyes flicker down to his hold, before going back up to meet his fiery ones. She suddenly realizes how close they are, she can practically feel his breath fanning over her face. She goes quiet at the thought, a flush creeping up her face. Bakugou notices the lack of retort, and a slow smirk spreads across his face as he sees how red the other is.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Where’s the witty retorts now, shithead?” he yanks her closer, almost tauntingly. 

“I left them with Kaminari, I guess.” Y/N says quietly after recovering from the initial shock. SHe grins as she’s released and shoved away almost immediately.

“So it’s Kaminari now?” he cocks his head to the side.

“That bothers you?”

“Obviously not. Do what you want, idiot.” He scoffs, looking away with a scowl. Y/N contemplates her options. She could push the point and risk Bakugou completely pushing her away...or she could leave and address the problem later. 

Later. A word she’s all too familiar with. She’s been putting off doing something as trivial as confessing till ‘later’ for the past few months. She can’t exactly pinpoint how or why she fell for this hotheaded, stubborn, asshole of an unfairly attractive idiot, but she knows that she’ll have to tell him sometime, even if he rejects her and doesn’t feel the same. After a few seconds of thought she makes up her mind and shrugs.

“All right. Guess I’ll go spend some more time with Kaminari then. Since you don’t mind.” She turns and pulls the door open. Before it can open more than a few inches, however, it’s forcibly slammed shut by a hand next to her head. She turns around in surprise and is met with Bakugou glaring down at her. 

“...What?” She prompts when he doesn’t speak. 

He continues glaring down at her in silence, seemingly fighting a mental battle over something. It seems like the debate is settled however, when he sighs in annoyance and leans down, crashing their mouths together harshly.  

It only lasts a few seconds, a few fiery, explosive, wonderful seconds, before Y/N is left shell-shocked, as Bakugou pulls away, still scowling. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move away. 

“Uh...I- that was-...” Y/N stutters, before gathering herself and meeting his gaze with a small smile. “I should take that as a sign that you like me back?” She relishes the way he’s caught off guard since it doesn’t happen often. His eyes widen slightly in surprise and the hand on the door next to her head slips down just a fraction. 

“Figured it out already, dumbass?” he grumbles, still keeping her fixed to her place with his eyes.

“Sorry...guess I short-circuited for a second.” She can’t help it. When Bakugou scowls and pulls away harshly, she reaches out and grabs his waist, attempting to keep him in place. “Kidding! I’m kidding, Katsuki!” She chuckles and hearing her laugh is the only thing that stops Bakugou from not prying her hands off him. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Denki, if you were curious. I’ve liked you for a while now and he knows that.” The tips of her ears turn red at the confession. Bakugou stares at her for a second, not seeing any hints of a lie. He relaxes a little and scoffs. 

“Never said I was curious.” he rolls his eyes and Y/N shakes her head with a breathy laugh. 

“Sure, Katsuki. Sure.”

When they return to the common area together, they’re sent questioning glances, but everyone knows better than to ask. Y/N sits next to Bakugou and Bakugou’s the one who has his arm around her and Bakugou’s the guy who gets to hear her laugh and he’s the one who gets to spend time with her.

He obviously wasn’t jealous before.

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Author’s Note: My first Bnha fic! Honestly, I’m so excited to start writing for this fandom, so send your requests in! They really get my creativity flowing!

Requests Are Open And Welcome

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Figuring it Out Together - Fred Weasley

Title: Figuring it Out Together Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Male receiving oral, female receiving oral, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, some dom/sub elements but nothing too intense, begging, semi-public sex Summary: landing in detention with the person she hates most is the last thing Y/N ever wants to do. But of course, with Fred Weasley around nothing ever seems to work out the way Y/N thinks it will. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted an enemies to lovers smut with Fred! The summary is shit but what else is new lol. Thank you so much to @fandomscombine​ and the two anons who helped me develop this idea!! Requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! I’ve started a tag list, so send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! Tags: @pandaxnienke​

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“Oi, Weasley! Get your ass back here!” Y/N shouts, chasing behind Fred as he heads towards the Gryffindor locker room with his brother. Fred and George stop in the tracks and turn around at the same time, the exact same cheeky smile on their mouths.

“Y/N!” George greets as she approaches.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asks.

“You!” Y/N growls, pointing at Fred.

As Y/N comes to stand in front of them they both can’t help but notice how angry she is. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are dark and narrowed. Thankful that her anger seems to be directed at Fred, George gives his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning around and following the rest of the team into the locker room.

“Me?” Fred teases, pointing to himself. “I’ve done something to rile up Miss prim and proper Y/N? Give me a moment, I need to bask in the glory.” Fred closes his eyes, tilts his head back and opens his arms as if the heavens have opened up and sunlight is gleaming down on him.

All this does is infuriate Y/N further, and when she finally gets close enough she shoves Fred as hard as she can. He doesn’t really move much, but it shocks him, and that’s enough for her. “What’s your problem you fucking prick? Why did you do that?”

“You’re going to have to elaborate, darling,” Fred responds casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life to classify me as a prick, so I’m going to need more details.”

“You broke his arm,” Y/N clarifies, gesturing towards the Quidditch pitch.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Your brother has suffered far worse injuries during a game, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time. No need for all the dramatics.”

Fred’s casual attitude does nothing but make Y/N angrier, and she shoves him again. “Most of them due to you no doubt! You knew how important this game was and yet you still had to go out of your way to be a complete asshat!”

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have just finished a grueling match, and Fred spent most of it hitting bludgers at Y/N’s older brother Matthew like they were the only two people on the pitch. While Y/N normally would be loving the opportunity to rub in her house’s win, Y/N had been praying for Ravenclaw to win this particular match. It’s been Matthew’s dream to be a professional Quidditch player since he was a little kid, and this match was his opportunity to make that a reality. Scouts from a few different professional teams were in attendance, and the Ravenclaw team has spent weeks fitting in extra practices to give them the upper advantage on Gryffindor.

Even Y/N was positive that they would take the win, until Fred made it his personal agenda to ensure Matthew never scored a goal. Y/N’s brother had spent most of the game whizzing around the field avoiding Fred, and he failed to score a single goal. And the icing on the cake was that 20 minutes before Harry caught the snitch Fred hit a bludger so hard that Matthew couldn’t avoid it, and it came into direct contact with his arm – shattering quite a few of the bones in it.

Fred huffs. “What did you want me to do? Throw the game so your stupid brother could show off to all of those recruiters? Me hitting bludgers at him so he doesn’t score is kinda the whole point of the game, Y/N.”

“Don’t try and act like I’m the one in the wrong here, Fred!” Y/N shouts, gathering the attention of some of the students heading back towards the castle. “You were focusing a bit too hard on Matthew and you know it! There was six other Ravenclaw players on the pitch, did you think about trying to hit some bludgers towards them?”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N,” Fred spits, returning her anger. “It’s a fucking game, get over it. Why do you always have to be such a bitch? You suck the fun out of everything.”

Y/N is seething with anger, and just as she starts to pull her hand back to slap Fred across the face, Professor McGonagall is stepping in between them.

“What on God’s green earth do you two think you’re doing?” McGonagall asks, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N. Detention, all next week and I’ll have 50 points from each of you. Now I suggest you two go find something else to do before I make it a month.”

Y/N flips Fred off as McGonagall walks away before she’s turning on her heel and stomping back up to the castle.

-

“Will you sit down, your pacing is making me dizzy,” Matthew groans, putting his head in his hand.

“Sorry,” Y/N apologizes, giving her brother a sheepish smile. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, trying not to jostle Matthew too much. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his arm quickly, but some of the potions she’d given him left him quite dizzy, so he’s still resting in the Hospital Wing.

“Fred is a prick, Y/N. You didn’t have to confront him,” Matthew says, looking up at Y/N. “Although I really wish you would have slapped him.”

“If McGonagall had only showed up a few seconds later,” Y/N laughs. “I’ve never had the urge to hit someone before but there’s just something about his stupid face that makes me so mad. You’ve been working so hard for this match and then he called me a bitch,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t feel bad, and besides, this is a moment we should be celebrating.” When Y/N gives Matthew a confused look he laughs. “Your first detention! I’m so proud of you,” he says wistfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“Oh shove it,” Y/N says with a giggle. “I’m going to be stuck in a room every night for the next week with Fred doing whatever McGonagall wants, sounds lovely,” she adds sarcastically with an eyeroll.

“To be fair most girls would kill to be in your position,” Matthew points out with a laugh. “Locked in a room for hours on end with Fred Weasley. That’s like a girl’s wet dream come to life.” When Y/N grimaces at the thought Matthew gives her a look. “Every girl except for you apparently. Why do you even hate Fred so much?”

Y/N gives Matthew a look of surprise. “You can’t be serious?” When Matthew continues to look at her dumbfounded she scoffs. “You were at this school for two years before I was and all I heard when you were home on break was how much of an annoying prat Fred is. I mean I tried not to hate Fred just because you did when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he was pretty okay at first. But one day he just started being a dick to me and I realized you were right.”

“Probably because you’re my sister. I’m always on his case about pulling pranks or messing around in class, he probably figured you’d be the same way,” Matthew reasons.

Y/N shrugs. “Well he’s a bag of dicks anyway, so I’m not too bothered by it.”

-

Monday evening comes far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, and after dinner she trots off to the trophy room, Fred begrudgingly following behind. McGonagall is already waiting for them, and she directs them to sit on the couch in front of her. Y/N takes a seat and practically hugs the arm rest so she’s sitting as far away from Fred as possible.

“The behavior you two exhibited on Saturday was unacceptable and downright barbaric,” McGonagall scolds, her tone sharp. “You’ll be spending the week making sure every one of the trophies in this room shines like it’s brand new.” Y/N looks around at the vast amount of trophies in the room as McGonagall hands them each a rag. “This should give you plenty of time to not only think about your actions, but to resolve whatever animosity exists between the two of you.” She gives them each a stern look before heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you both.”

Y/N groans as McGonagall shuts the door behind her and she hoists herself off of the couch towards the mantle, needing to put some space between her and Fred. McGonagall may want them to sort out their issues, but Y/N wants nothing to do with Fred, and she still has some lingering anger from their fight on Saturday so she’s sure all it would do is end in another detention. Y/N grabs a random trophy and starts scrubbing at it, keeping her back towards Fred.

“This is such bullshit,” Fred mutters to himself after a few minutes of working in silence. Y/N can feel his glare and her shoulders tense up, but she doesn’t say anything or turn around. “This is all your fault you know,” Fred continues a few moments later when Y/N continues to ignore him.

Y/N places the trophy she’d been working on back and picks up another one, determined not to give Fred a reaction. Clearly he’s trying to instigate her into getting into more trouble and while Fred may be used to serving detention Y/N plans on making this week her one and only stint. Y/N finally relaxes after a few minutes of silence, when Fred starts to hum some random song rather loudly and out of tune.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Y/N mutters to herself as she starts to work on another trophy. “Shut up!” Y/N demands, slamming the trophy she’d been working on down. As much as she wants to just ignore Fred, she also wants to keep her sanity.

“No,” Fred responds dully before he continues humming.

Y/N turns around to glare at Fred, and the sweet smile on his face only annoys her further. “Can you not be an asshole? For like, once in your life. Let’s just get through this week and then we can continue to hate each other from afar.”

Fred places the plaque he’d been working on down and leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. “Why should I make this easy on you? You’re the one that got me into this mess.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. You totally didn’t shout back at me or call me any names. You just stood there and let me yell at you,” Y/N responds with an eyeroll.

Fred narrows his eyes. “You started it,” he fires back. “I was on my way back to the locker room when you ran up to me and started shouting. And don’t forget you shoved me a few times. I only shouted back because I was tired of listening to your stupid voice.”

“Oh please, you barely moved when I shoved you. You’re acting like I broke your arm or something. Oh wait, that was you,” Y/N reminds him harshly. “You broke my brother’s arm during the most important Quidditch game of his life!”

Fred stands up and takes a step towards Y/N, his fists clenched. “You’re still on that? It’s a game Y/N! I wasn’t trying to break his arm, it just happened! You’re being such a fucking cry baby over nothing!”

“I’m not being a cry baby!” Y/N insist, taking a step towards Fred.

“Oh you’re right my mistake,” Fred spits. “You’re being a fucking bitch!”

Y/N brings her hand out to slap Fred, but his hand wraps around her wrist tightly. Before she has a chance to try and struggle against his grip Fred is pulling Y/N into his chest and kissing her hard. Y/N kisses him back with enthusiasm and moans into Fred’s mouth as his hands land on her bum and give it a tight squeeze.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” Fred growls as he starts to bite and suck at Y/N’s neck. “You’re annoying as hell too,” he reminds as his hands shove up her shirt. “But so fucking hot.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Y/N demands, bringing their lips together again. Fred may be an annoying git, but even Y/N has to admit that he’s attractive and being with Fred will definitely make detention more interesting. “You have too many clothes on,” Y/N pants as they break apart, her hands starting to loosen Fred’s tie.

“I could say the same to you, princess,” Fred says, smirking when a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. Normally the nickname would make her blood boil, but in this context it makes her pussy throb.

Y/N tosses Fred’s tie away as his fingers start to make quick work of her button down. “Why are these uniforms so fucking hard to take off,” Y/N groans as she starts to work at Fred’s shirt as well.

“That desperate for me already, Y/N?” Fred teases as he pushes her shirt off of her shoulders. He leans down to suck a mark onto the top of her breast as his hands move around her back to unhook her bra.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley,” Y/N chides as she takes Fred’s shirt off. Her bra finally hits the ground, and Y/N lets out a whine as Fred’s mouth starts licking and sucking at her nipples. “You kissed me first, remember.”

“Only because I wanted you to shut the fuck up.” Fred steps back and sits on the couch, pulling Y/N down onto his lap. She straddles his waist and they both moan as she grinds down against him. Fred’s hands start to massage Y/N’s breasts and his thumbs start to roughly rub her nipples, causing her to let out a breathy moan. “That’s right, princess. Keep making those noises for me.”

Y/N bites her lip and rocks down against Fred again, determined to keep every noise that bubbles up her throat down. This seems to only spur Fred on, and his head dips down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud as his other hand continues rubbing the other. “Fuck, Fred,” Y/N moans, unable to keep it in any longer.

“Love the way you moan my name,” Fred praises, rocking his hips up into Y/N. He’s painfully hard in his trousers and he’s desperate for some friction. “Although I think there’s something even better for your mouth to do, princess.”

Y/N is dripping wet in her panties, and she hates to admit that the thought of sucking Fred’s cock sends a tingle right through her core. “Gonna have to ask me for it, Fred,” she teases, sinking to her knees in front of him.

Fred kicks his shoes off as Y/N undoes his belt and starts to work at the button of his trousers. “Look at you, you’re practically drooling,” Fred taunts playfully. “Give it another few seconds and you’ll be begging me to put my cock in your mouth.”

“You sure about that?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred. She pulls his trousers and boxers down to his thighs in one go, and Y/N has to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. Fred exudes big dick energy, and Y/N’s pussy throbs as her hand wraps around him, pleasantly surprised that his size matches his personality.

Fred throws his head back and groans as Y/N starts to slowly stroke him. “Just fucking suck it already,” Fred demands. “You know you want it, slut.”  

“Thought I was your princess?” Y/N teases  as she leans forward, her tongue coming out to kitten lick at his sensitive head.

“Only good girls get to be called princess,” Fred moans, his hand fisting in her hair. “Bad girls who don’t do what I tell them get called slut.” Fred tugs on Y/N’s hair, and he smirks at the moan she lets out. “So you better get sucking if you wanna be my princess.”

Y/N presses her thighs together to try and get some relief on her clit as she decides what to do next. She desperately wants to suck Fred off, but a part of her wants to hold off for a bit and push him to beg her instead. But as Y/N strokes Fred, a bead of precum bubbles up on the tip of his cock, and it makes her mouth water.

“That’s it, princess,” Fred moans as Y/N finally takes him into her mouth and swallows him down. He watches as his length disappears into Y/N’s mouth, his hips twitching as he hits the back of her throat. “Fuck your mouth feels amazing. Gonna have to shove my cock into it every time you get mouthy with me.”

Y/N hums around Fred, her hand starting to work at the part of his cock she can’t fit in her mouth. She pulls her head back so her tongue can twist around the tip, Fred’s moans and pants only encouraging her further. Y/N bobs her head down, gagging as Fred hits the back of her throat. She starts to pull back, but Fred’s hips surge forward, fucking his cock back into her throat and making her gag again.

“Did I say you could fuck my throat?” Y/N scolds as she pulls off. Fred’s hips lift up again to chase her mouth, and she wraps her hand around his cock.

“Sorry princess,” Fred apologizes smugly. “You sound so good gagging around my cock I couldn’t help it.” Fred uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to bring her mouth back towards his crotch. “Just keep sucking, I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t really want to anymore,” Y/N teases. Her thumb swipes over the tip of Fred’s cock with every upstroke, causing his hips to jerk. “Gonna have to beg me for it, Fred.”

Fred groans. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N. Fine don’t suck my cock,” Fred says flatly, trying to bait her into taking him back down her throat. “Your hand feels just as good,” he groans.

Y/N narrows her eyes at Fred and pulls her hand away. “You wanna come from a hand? Then you can get yourself off.” She stands up then and kicks off her shoes before slowly shimmying out of her school skirt and panties. Y/N then lays back on the floor with her feet flat, knees bent and open so Fred can see her dripping core. She props herself up on one elbow and looks Fred dead in the eyes as her other hand starts to wander down to her pussy. “You can use your hand, and I’ll use mine.”

Fred watches in rapt awe as Y/N starts to slowly rub her clit, small moans falling from her lips. His cock twitches and he resists the urge to wrap his hand around himself. “Look how fucking wet you are, princess. All of that, just for me?” Fred bites his lip as Y/N starts to tease her entrance with her finger. “How about you come on my cock instead?”

Y/N whines as she sinks a finger into her heat, her attention completely focused on Fred. She watches as he stands up and gets rid of the rest of his clothes, her pussy throbbing at how wet his cock is still from her saliva. When Fred settles on his knees between her legs, Y/N reluctantly stops her movements on her core and places one hand on Fred’s chest while the other wraps around his cock.

“You wanna fuck me, Fred?” When Fred nods and goes to move forward, Y/N shoves him back. “Gonna have to beg me for it.”

“Stop fucking around, Y/N,” Fred complains. “You’re desperate for my cock and you know it.”

Y/N’s walls clench around nothing and her hips buck as if they’re searching for something to fill her. “Beg me for my pussy, Fred,” Y/N demands. “Beg me, and I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Let me fuck you, princess, please,” he begs. “Wanna ruin you with my cock, stretch that pretty little pussy out.”

Y/N is desperate for release at this point, and Fred begging for her only makes it worse. She immediately lets go of him and grabs his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. As soon as he’s free to move Fred inches forward and slams into Y/N, both of them moaning as he buries himself in her completely.

“Fucking hell, Fred,” Y/N moans. Fred starts to fuck into her quickly, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder so he can move deeper inside of her. “Oh my fucking god right there,” Y/N pants as his cock starts to drag against her g-spot on each thrust. “You fill me up so good, Fred, fuck. Such a big cock, fucking me so well.” Fred starts to rub her clit, and her walls clench around him.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Fred compliments. “Can feel your walls stretching for me, like they were made to take my cock.” Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and he’s rewarded with the hottest moan he’s ever heard. “Bet I’m the biggest you’ve ever taken. Aren’t I, princess?”

“Oh fuck, Fred,” Y/N gasps, her orgasm suddenly hitting her. She can feel her walls tightening and spasming around Fred, and her legs start to shake as pleasure washes over her. “Come inside me Fred please,” Y/N begs as she pulls their mouths together.

Fred’s hips still as he releases inside Y/N, his hips just slowly rolling to help him through his orgasm. He kisses Y/N slow as they both come down and once his cock stops twitching Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and sits back on his shins. They both just sit their basking in the pleasure that’s still coursing through their veins, when footsteps start to approach the door.

“Shit, shit, fucking shit, that must be McGonagall,” Y/N panics, scrambling to find her clothes.

Fred grabs his wand and casts a spell at the door to keep it from opening. “Quick, get dressed. That’ll only stop her for a few minutes.”

They both get dressed hurriedly, and Y/N has just barely grabbed her rag and started to scrub at a random trophy when the door bursts open.

“Bloody old doors,” McGonagall mutters as she steps inside. She eyes both Fred and Y/N quizzically and Y/N holds her breath, waiting to be told off. “And how are things?” she asks.

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “Going well, professor.”

Fred nods in agreement. “We’ve been hard at work. Merlin’s honor,” Fred adds.

“Very well then. I shall see you both tomorrow after dinner.” McGonagall steps out of the way, and both Y/N and Fred practically throw down the things in their hands as they rush to leave the room.

They walk back to the common room side by side, neither of them really sure what to say. Fred says the password as they reach the Fat Lady, and he lets Y/N go in first. Before Y/N has a chance to say anything to Fred he’s heading to join George on one of the couches, and Hermione is calling Y/N over.

“How was detention?” Hermione asks as Y/N reaches the table she’s sat at.

Y/N shrugs, trying to keep from blushing. “It was fine. Pretty boring actually.”

“Only four more days,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I’m working on that Charms essay if you wanna join me.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab a quick shower first and then grab my stuff.” Y/N can feel Fred’s release dripping out of her and into her panties, and she’ll never be able to focus on her homework if she doesn’t get cleaned up first.

“See you in a bit then.”

Y/N gives Hermione a smile before she turns on her heel and starts to head towards the staircase. Her legs are still a little shaky, and as she takes the first few steps up she stumbles a bit. Y/N looks back to see if anyone noticed, only to be met with Fred’s eyes. He gives her a sly wink, and she flips him off before disappearing up the stairs.

-

“So detention with Weasley was okay?” Matthew asks Y/N the next morning at breakfast.

They’re sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as always, and Y/N is thankful for the space it gives her from Fred. Last night was the best sex Y/N has ever had, and the fact that it was with someone she has hated for years has done nothing but confuse her further. She still hates Fred without a shadow of a doubt, but Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t want it to happen again.

“Yeah, it was pretty chill. McGonagall had us scrubbing trophies and stuff in the trophy room for hours which was mind numbing but, other than that it was uneventful,” Y/N lies. Telling her brother about her sex life is low on the list of things Y/N wants to do under normal circumstances, and it’s even lower when her partner is someone her brother considers an enemy.

“A bit of hard labor never hurt,” Matthew jokes, causing Y/N to choke on her orange juice.

“Yeah right. Hard labor,” Y/N tries to joke back once her coughs have died down. If only he knew the kind of hard labor we got up to Y/N thinks to herself as her eyes wander over towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes meet Fred’s and she has to look away to avoid blushing.

“Hello, earth to Fred,” George calls, waving his hand in front of Fred’s face.

Fred drags his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at his brother. “Sorry, what did you say?”

George chuckles and looks over his shoulder to see what had Fred so occupied. “Ah, Y/N,” he drawls, looking back at Fred. “You were pretty quiet after you got back from detention. Did something happen?”

“No, not at all,” Fred lies, hoping his cheeks don’t start to heat up. Much like Y/N, Fred is completely confused about their encounter. He’s loathed both Y/N and her brother for as long as he can remember, but less than 12 hours ago they were having some of the best sex Fred has ever had and he’s already thinking about what they might get up to when they’re alone tonight.

“I was kinda surprised you came back in one piece,” Ron adds with a laugh. Fred throws his spoon at Ron, and the younger boy dodges it. “No need to be so rude. You two have hated each other for years and she looked ready to beat your ass on Saturday. I figured she’d take the opportunity to do it when you were alone.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much?” Hermione asks from Ron’s side. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats since our first year.”

“I hate her because Y/N is an uppity asshole like her brother. Matthew is always getting me and George in trouble and Y/N does the same,” Fred explains. “Your first year, George was serving a detention with Snape and I set up what was going to be our best revenge prank yet. I went all out, it took weeks of planning.  Except it never went off. Someone ratted on me and McGonagall intervened. I got in probably the worst trouble I’ve ever been in, Mum sent Howlers for days afterwards. I was in detention for months.”

“I remember that! Mum was still pissed at Christmas,” Ron says.

Hermione knits her eyebrows together. “I remember that too. But what does that have to do with Y/N?”

Fred sighs. “When I was leaving the prank to wait for George so we could set it off, Y/N passed me in the hallway. It had to be her who ratted me out just like her brown-nosing brother.”

“But it couldn’t have been Y/N. I spent most of the afternoon with her in the library working on a Herbology assignment. Ron and Harry were there too,” Hermione explains, and both Ron and Harry nod in agreement. “She must have passed you on the way into the library. By the time we left the library you were already in trouble, there’s no way she could have gone to see McGonagall between the time she passed you and when she got to the library.”

“Bet you it was Malfoy,” Harry adds. “He was leaving the library as Y/N entered, remember? He shoved her into the door jamb as they passed by each other.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Fred interrupts, his tone dripping with confusion. “You mean to tell me that I’ve spent the past 5 years hating Y/N for something she didn’t even do?”

Hermione nods. “Seems that way.”

Fred groans and stands up. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Fred heads out of the Great Hall and towards class, feeling even more confused than he had before.

-

“You plan on ignoring me all night, princess?” Fred says quietly, coming up behind Y/N. McGonagall has just barely shut the door behind her to leave them be and Fred doesn’t want to waste any time. He’s decided in the time it’s been since breakfast that he really isn’t sure how he truly feels about Y/N and having sex with her seems to be the best way for him to figure it out. He’d been trying to catch her attention all day, but Y/N barely even glanced at him.

“How the hell do you move so quietly?” Y/N asks, toying with the rag in her hands. Truthfully Y/N had planned on ignoring Fred. She spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about this murky new relationship they’ve gotten themselves in, and finally settled on letting Fred take the next step. Y/N is prideful above anything else, and she’d rather streak through the hallways naked than come on to Fred when he only saw their sex as a one-time thing.

Fred presses a kiss to the side of Y/N’s neck, smiling into the skin when she shivers. “You didn’t answer my question, princess.”

“You that desperate for me already, Fred?” Y/N teases, turning around to look at him.

“No,” Fred responds slowly, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s lips for a moment. “But I know you enjoyed last night, as did I. So I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”

“Maybe because we’re supposed to be shining these stupid trophies, not having sex. We barely did any work last night and I have a feeling McGonagall will notice when everything looks the same again,” Y/N responds in lieu of actually responding to Fred’s preposition.

“I can take care of that,” Fred insists. He takes his wand out of his back pocket and casts a spell which makes several of the trophies around them shine like diamonds. “There. Now McGonagall will have no idea what we were really getting up to in here.”

Y/N drops her rag and turns around, her arms winding around Fred’s neck as his wrap around her waist. She bites her lip, unable to stop her eyes from traveling down to Fred’s mouth. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” Y/N says softly, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Outside of this room I still hate you and you still hate me. Got it?”

“Of course, princess,” Fred confirms. Once Y/N relaxes in his embrace Fred wastes no time and presses their lips together, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

Y/N moans into the kiss, one of her hands trailing down Fred’s torso to his hardening erection. She palms him lightly, smirking when his knees quiver. “So hard for me already, Freddie? You miss being buried in my pussy that much?”

Fred starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck, one of his hands inching up her skirt. He pushes the fabric aside as he sucks a mark into her skin, and let’s two of his fingers rub through her wet folds. “You’re one to talk,” Fred teases as Y/N gasps. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping wet. Been thinking about my cock, princess?”

“Fred,” Y/N whines as he sinks a finger into her heat. She clenches around him, her hand starting to palm him harder.

Fred pulls his hand out of her panties and kisses away Y/N’s pout. “Your mouth felt so good on me yesterday, princess,” Fred starts, leading them over to the couch. “And tonight, I’m gonna use my mouth on you to say thank you.”

Y/N shivers as Fred pushes her back onto the couch, her arousal growing even more. His voice is deep and slow, the complete opposite to how it was last night. Yesterday they had both teased each other, but it’s clear by Fred’s actions so far that he’s in no mood to play the same games again.

“How generous,” Y/N teases, watching as Fred starts to unbutton his shirt.

“If you want me to tease I can tease,” Fred muses, dropping his shirt on the ground next to his tie. “Or you can get naked and I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum.”

Y/N immediately kicks off her shoes and wiggles out of her skirt and panties, letting them drop to the floor. “Please eat me out, Fred,” she pleads as her hands start to work at the buttons of her shirt.

Fred kicks Y/N’s discarded clothes out of the way and drops to his knees, grabbing a thigh in each hand. He pulls her legs apart and settles in between them before pressing kisses up her thigh and towards her heat. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, princess?” Fred stops to suck a mark on the inside of her thigh, only an inch or two away from where Y/N needs him most. “Bet you taste so good, princess.”

“Put your mouth on me and you’ll find out,” Y/N pants, fisting a hand in Fred’s hair.

Fred looks up at Y/N, his mouth running dry and how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her school shirt lays open, the tops of her breasts spilling out over the cups of her bra. Fred can still make out some of the marks he left on them yesterday as her chest heaves with deep breaths. Y/N’s stomach is quivering and Fred dips down and licks a long strip from the bottom of her pussy to the top to keep himself from blurting out just how beautiful he finds her.

Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit, tugging his hair slightly. Fred’s fingers are digging into her thighs and it only turns her on more. “More, Fred, please.”

Fred’s tongue travels down from Y/N’s clit to her dripping entrance, slowly sliding into her as he collects her juices. He moans at her taste, letting his tongue fuck in and out of Y/N’s pussy. “Knew you’d taste good,” Fred praises. He sucks Y/N’s clit into his mouth and takes one of his hands off her thigh so he can sink his index finger into her.

“Freddie,” Y/N whines, bearing her hips down onto his finger. He curls it inside of her, and Y/N clenches around it. “Wanna come, please,” Y/N begs.

Fred nibbles lightly on her clit, teasing a second finger around her entrance. “Gonna have to come from just one finger, princess. Want my cock to stretch you out.” Y/N lets out a loud moan at that, and Fred smiles as he presses a wet kiss to her clit. “You like that idea, princess? My cock splitting you open?”

“Fuck me now, Fred,” Y/N demands, tugging on his hair again. “Wanna come around your cock.”

Fred licks up Y/N’s core one last time before he pulls away and starts to work on taking the rest of his clothes off. “Fuck, Y/N. You can’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to bury my cock in you every chance I get.” Fred stands up to get rid of his bottoms, watching as Y/N tosses her shirt aside and takes off her bra. “Don’t think I told you how incredible your tits are yesterday, Y/N. They’re so soft and round and perfect,” he groans.

Y/N flushes under Fred’s praise and climbs onto his lap when he sits down next to her. She presses their lips together and kisses him messily, one of her hands gripping his shoulder while the other reaches around to grip the base of his cock. “Gonna make me do all the work, Weasley? Typical man,” she teases, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance.

Fred’s hands land on Y/N’s hips and he smirks as their lips connect once again. When Y/N teases her entrance again, Fred jerks his hips up and slams her down at the same time, shoving his cock all the way into Y/N. “What was that, princess? About me doing all the work?”

Y/N gasps as Fred enters her, her walls twitching around him. “So fucking big, Fred, holy hell. Feels like it’s splitting me in two. Feels so good.”

Fred hums and kisses Y/N again as she starts to bounce on him, his hips meeting her thrusts. “Riding me so good, princess,” he groans. “You feel amazing around me. Always so tight for me.” One of Fred’s hands travels to Y/N’s core and starts to lightly rub her clit while the other starts to pinch and toy with her nipple. He leans forward and presses his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Not where people can see,” Y/N warns, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. She leans back to brace a hand on Fred’s thigh, whining at the new angle. The tip of Fred’s cock rubs her g-spot with each movement, and Y/N can feel her orgasm building.

“But that’s half the fun,” Fred pouts, examining the few bruises he’s left on her neck. “Want everyone to know who this pussy belongs too.”

Y/N moans as Fred’s head dips down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. “So this pussy belongs to you?” Y/N stutters, her eyes fluttering closed as Fred nibbles on her nipple and starts to rub her clit faster.

“Does it not?” Fred asks, fucking his hips up into Y/N harder. “Or is there someone else that makes you feel this good?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he pinches her clit and nipple at the same time, her orgasm taking over her suddenly.

“Fucking hell,” Fred moans as Y/N tightens around him and collapses into his chest. He grips her hips and moves her on his cock as he chases his own release. “How the fuck are you even tighter?” He groans as Y/N clenches around him again, and he brings her down on him one last time before his cock starts to twitch and he releases inside of her.

Fred starts to rub Y/N’s back as they both come down, whining as she shifts on his softening cock. “So good for me, princess,” he praises, pressing a few kisses to the side of Y/N’s face.

Y/N pulls away from Fred slightly so she can kiss him. Their lips move together softly and Y/N whines into it when Fred lifts her off of his cock. “Feel so empty without you,” she admits sheepishly, her cheeks heating up.

Fred chuckles and starts to trace shapes into her sweaty skin. “Trust me, love. If McGonagall wasn’t due to barge through that door any minute now we’d be getting ready for round 2.”

-

By the time Friday rolls around Y/N is more confused than ever. Every time her and Fred go their separate ways after detention leaves her with an empty feeling in her chest and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that Fred has started being nice to her outside of their detentions too.

Instead of his usual hard glares she finds him looking at her softly during meals and he greets her every time their paths cross instead of ignoring her as per usual. Their housemates are starting to notice Fred’s change in behavior as well. One morning he lets her have the last piece of bacon on the platter, and Hermione gives her a questioning look. When she’s doing homework in the common room with Harry and her ink runs out, Fred pulls a new bottle out of his bag and immediately hands it over to her, causing Harry’s jaw to practically drop. It’s almost as if they’re friends now, and it only complicates things in Y/N’s head further.

Y/N has found herself actually enjoying Fred’s tenderness, and she doesn’t quite know what that means. Tonight is the last night they’ll have to spend together, and Y/N is both scared and curious about what that means for their relationship. She spares a glance at Fred from down the table as Hermione chatters on about something, and she looks away quickly when his eyes meet hers.

“Last detention, what are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” George asks, pulling Fred’s attention back to him. When all his brother does is shrug, George frowns. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all week and now you almost seem, sad that your detention is over with.”

Fred bites his lip, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Just been thinking about stuff.” Fred has gotten himself in a major problem, and he’s been trying to figure out how to get himself out of it all week. After his second time with Y/N things became clearer to Fred, he certainly doesn’t hate Y/N anymore, and he’s found himself developing feelings for her. He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he’d be lying if he said he can’t see himself falling in love with Y/N.

He’s been paying more attention to her since his revelation that his deep-rooted hate was based in a misunderstanding, and he’s noticed so many things about her that he finds so endearing. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s had her moaning and writhing underneath him every day this week and every time she moans his name his heart swells.

“This about Y/N?” George asks carefully, not wanting to push Fred too much. Being a twin has its advantages, and while he can’t say he knows what’s going on in Fred’s head he can tell something is off with him and it’s not too hard to guess why.

“I don’t hate her anymore,” Fred admits quietly. “And it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, but I think I could be. Someday. If she would let me.” Fred sighs and looks at George. “But I’m pretty sure she still hates my guts, I mean how could she not? I’ve been a dick to her for years and it’s stupid of me to think that a few nights of sex can change that.”

George chokes on his pumpkin juice. “You two have been screwing?”

“Shh, shh,” Fred says quickly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. “Keep your voice down, I don’t need the whole school knowing. Especially Y/N’s brother.”

“I thought you two were just making out or something,” George continues quietly. “Now I know why you’re so happy when you get back from detention every night.” George wiggles his eyebrows at Fred, and Fred rolls his eyes in response.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t continue hooking up after our detention was up and things are going to go right back to how they were before it started,” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But I don’t feel the same way about her as I did before and I don’t know if I can start pretending to hate her.”

George gives Fred a sad smile and ruffles his hair. “I wish I could help you, Freddie.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Fred watches as Y/N stands up to head to detention, and he slowly follows her lead trying not to pay too much attention to how her hips sway.

-

“I guess this is it,” Y/N says quietly, trying to not let the sadness she feels creep into her chest. Fred has just finished fucking her into the carpet and she’s cuddled into his side as they catch their breath. In a few minutes McGonagall will be back, and whatever this is between her and Fred will be over.

“Guess so,” Fred responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His chest is already aching, and they haven’t even parted ways yet.

Y/N tilts her head up and catches Fred’s mouth in one final kiss. “It was nice, to not be your enemy for a bit.”

“Let’s not go back to being enemies then,” Fred says carefully. When Y/N looks up at him worriedly Fred musters up what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Friends?”

Y/N nods, trying to figure out why Fred’s offer of friendship simultaneously makes her happy and sad. “Sure, friends.”

They part and get dresses quietly, barely even able to look at each other. When McGonagall finally pushes through the door their standing at opposite ends of the room, and the awkwardness in the air is evident.

“I hope you two learned your lesson,” McGonagall says quietly before watching the two of them scurry away, their heads hanging low.

-

Despite the fact that she and Fred had agreed to be friends, Y/N can’t help but notice that he’s ignoring her. It’s been a little over a week since their last detention, and Fred hasn’t even said two words to Y/N. He’s barely even looked at her. His sudden disappearance from her life has left her both sad and angry, and she’s started to realize that maybe it’s because she really wanted to be more than friends with Fred. She thought maybe he had wanted that too, but with his sudden cool attitude, Y/N isn’t going to be the one searching him out to get to the bottom of it.

“Okay, you’re like, the best sister ever,” Matthew greets as she comes to sit next to him at the Ravenclaw table. It’s fairly early on a Saturday morning, so the Great Hall is still pretty empty.

“I mean I know that,” Y/N says with a laugh as she sits down next to him. “But do you wanna explain why you’re suddenly realizing it too?”

Matthew rolls his eyes and waves around the letter in his hand. “I got this in the mail today, no need to be so coy.”

“What is it?” Y/N grabs the letter from him and scans over it briefly. “One of the teams is going to send another scout to your next game. That’s amazing!”

Matthew frowns at her. “You mean you didn’t write to them?” When Y/N shakes her head, his frown turns into a look of confusion. “The letter says someone at school wrote to them and asked them to reconsider drafting me and that I’m a better player than I demonstrated.”

“Must have been someone on the team,” Y/N muses, taking a sip of orange juice.

“That’s what I thought, but look at the team they sent the letter to,” Matthew insists, tossing the envelope to Y/N.

She looks at it closely, noticing the team emblem embossed into the parchment. “That’s your favorite team,” Y/N points out.

“That’s why I figured it was you. You’re the only one that knows they’re my favorite, and it’s kinda weird that out of the six or seven teams that sent scouts this person would send a letter to the one team I’ve always wanted to play for.”

Y/N’s jaw drop as a conversation she’d had with Fred one night as they laid next to each other to recover. She offhandedly mentioned how sad Matthew had been after receiving a rejection letter from his favorite team. She thought nothing of it at the time when Fred asked her which team it was, but it all makes sense now.

“I think I know who sent that letter. I’ll be back.”

Y/N heads out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, all kinds of emotions flowing through her body.

“Fred!” Y/N shouts as she throws the door to his dorm open. All three of the boys in there jump, frightened by her sudden appearance. She starts to storm towards Fred, and George and Lee take the opportunity to sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Do you mind?” Fred says dully. His back is to Y/N and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

As Y/N comes to stand behind Fred she can’t help but notice that he’s standing next to his bed in nothing but his boxers. His hair is messy, and she figures he’s only been awake a few minutes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Y/N reminds him. “I need to talk to you.”

Fred sighs and turns around to look at her, sitting on his bed. “What?” His voice shakes, and he prays Y/N doesn’t notice.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asks, trying not to lose her nerve. Fred looks beautiful sitting there, and it’s taking everything in her not to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Lots of things are wrong with me, Y/N. You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Why did you send that letter? To the quidditch team?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “They weren’t supposed to say you sent the letter,” he mumbles.

“They didn’t. But the only person who knows about Matthew’s dream to play for that team besides he and I is you. And since he didn’t send the letter and neither did I it had to have been you,” Y/N pauses, looking at Fred. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, softer.

“I dunno,” Fred responds with a shrug. “I could tell you were upset about the whole thing, so I figured I’d reach out. The worst they could do is send a letter back to me saying no. And then you’d never have to know about it. And if they said yes Matthew would never know it was me who sent the original letter in.” Fred bites his lips. “I just wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

Y/N’s heart melts. “You did it for me?”

“Why are you surprised? I figured it was obvious there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Or have you forgotten about the seven orgasms I gave you last Thursday?” Fred teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks flush and a shiver runs down her spine at the memory. “Why go through all that and not even take the credit for it?”

“Because of what you said, the second night of our detention,” Fred starts. “You made me promise that us hooking up wouldn’t change our relationship outside of detention and I very clearly broke that promise.”

“But I thought we agreed to be friends?” Y/N admits softly. When Fred nods she sighs in frustration. “Then how come you’ve been ignoring me? I’ve seen you less in the past week than I did when we hated each other.”

“Because I don’t want to be just your friend,” Fred admits. “I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and kiss you and fuck you in my bed. Or your bed. Any bed really I still have fucking carpet burn on my knees,” he jokes, trying to diffuse the air in the room. “I’m starting to feel things for you, Y/N. And I thought just being your friend would be enough but it’s not.”

“Freddie,” Y/N whispers, taking his hand in hers. “Why not just say all that then?”

Fred rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’ve spent the past five years hating my guts? And you were pretty adamant that you wanted to continue hating me no matter how much sex we had.”

“You seemed to hate me pretty strongly too,” Y/N points out with a quiet laugh. “I wanted to hate you still, I really did. No offense,” she apologizes, squeezing Fred’s hand. “But as we spent more and more time together inside and outside the trophy room I couldn’t even remember why I started hating you in the first place. Your issues with Matthew are your issues with Matthew, and I shouldn’t have made them my issues with you too.”

“That’s why you hated me? Because of Matthew?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N onto his lap.

“It sounds stupid now. But it made sense at the time,” Y/N says quietly.

Fred grips Y/N’s face carefully and brings their lips together in a slow kiss. Their mouths move together softly, and Fred can’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Fred nibbles on Y/N’s lips to ask permission to enter her mouth, but Y/N keeps her lips shut tight. Sensing her sudden hesitation, Fred pulls away. “What’s wrong? I thought all that meant we were going to move towards something more. Did I read it all wrong? Oh god I did. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

Y/N presses a reassuring kiss to Fred’s mouth. “It did mean we’re moving towards something more. I want to be something more with you,” Y/N admits. “I just. I don’t know how to be something more with you, Freddie. I don’t know how to be your girlfriend.”

Fred chuckles. “Well I don’t exactly know how to be your boyfriend either.” Fred kisses Y/N again sweetly. “But that’s the fun part of a new relationship, isn’t it? Figuring it out together.”

“At least we’ve already got the sex part figured out.” Y/N laughs as Fred stands up and throws her down on the bed.

Fred crawls up the bed and drapes himself over Y/N. “Doesn’t hurt to work on it, though,” Fred teases, kissing her hard.

[tennessoui]

29 G.A.t.W. AU - The C.W.s start 2yrs early bc of Galactic Law EVERY Natborn in the GAR MUST be 18yr old. Obi-Wan is forced to leave behind his young Padawan. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.. Without the Masters being able to be there physically they have to start training programs to help the Pawadans. Every Master now has to teach certain subjects. Anakin finally sees a mind healer & finds inner peaces without the Council breathing down his neck. The Temple Locked Down so No Sith Influenc

so this is a beautiful ask and beautiful future and i followed it like i follow my google maps directions which means maybe 30% of the way but i was watching lord of the rings and thinkin about braids so here is this and i'm very sorry it's what it is

29. Going Away To War AU (Tatooine slave culture, 17!Anakin, preslash/Anakin's pining, mullet!Obi-Wan)(2.3k)

The Padawan braid isn’t the first braid Anakin learns about. It’s not even the fiftieth. By the time Qui-Gon Jinn, Queen Amidala, and Obi-Wan Kenobi land on Tatooine, Anakin is well-versed in the language of braids and what each means. He hadn’t had any of his own yet, seeing as how he was only nine with no accomplishments or triumphs or romantic entanglements to advertise, but if he had stayed on Tatooine, he’d probably have gotten his first braid after he won the podrace.

HIs mother would have done it with gentle hands and a proud smile, and their neighbors would have gathered outside their door to try and be the first one to congratulate him.

Braids are important. They’re sacred. Their style and the beads woven through the strands signify everything important to know about the Tatooinian wearing them. He’d see the freed people’s braids in the marketplace and burn with envy. He’d see a blushing girl braid her lover’s obsidian into his hair to signify courtship, and know one day he’d do the same to someone else. He’d practice his braids until his hands hurt from the motion, wanting to be perfect at it before he’d need to know. After all, as a slave, there wouldn’t be much else he could offer them except beautiful braids and beads.

There is only one braid he doesn’t know the meaning of, and it’s the one that hung down Obi-Wan Kenobi’s shoulder when they first met.

He thinks about asking him, even though it might be considered rude, but before he can, they’re at the Jedi Temple, then on Naboo and then Master Jinn is dead and Obi-Wan’s braid is gone, and Anakin thinks, oh. So the braid means love.

Mourners on Tatooine cut the braids off their dead and then a single braid from their own head, to mean that a part of themselves has died as well. Obi-Wan tries to be extra nice to Obi-Wan after that.

That is, until the man approaches Anakin with a serrated knife and a rueful grin and tells him that because the Council has allowed him to take him as his padawan, it’s time for Anakin to have the Padawan haircut.

The fit Anakin throws at these words could probably be heard back on Tatooine, but his new master must be made of the same strength Lukka crafts the sandstorms from, because an hour later, Anakin is looking at his shorn locks on the floor in a state of horrified shock.

Obi-Wan kneels down at his side as he begins braiding together the lone strand of hair Anakin has been allowed to keep.

“I’m sorry,” his master says quietly. “I know that your hair is very important to you on Tatooine.”

“How will I practice my braids now?” Anakin asks despondently. If he is to have short hair until he’s Obi-Wan’s age (ancient), then he won’t ever be able to practice the courtship braids. The engagement braids. The marriage braids. All the other ones too. Do the Jedi just present their beloveds with sloppy braids?

The thought has him near tears.

Obi-Wan looks very panicked. “Please don’t cry,” he begs. “Jedi apprentices shouldn’t cry.”

Anakin’s vision becomes even more blurred at this. Now he’ll never be able to practice his braids and he’s a bad Jedi.

“Oh blast, that’s not what I meant,” Obi-Wan backtracks, hesitantly putting his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. It’s not very comforting, but it’s the best Anakin has so he resolves to make do and lean into the touch. “Well. You can, uh. You can braid my hair?”

Anakin sniffles. “Your hair is short. And ugly.”

His master laughs and ruffles Anakin’s own short hair. “I’ll grow it out, just for you if it’s that important to you.”

He would? Anakin looks up at him hopefully. That could work. It even makes sense, kind of, for Obi-Wan to let Anakin braid his hair. After all, Anakin’s going to be wearing Obi-Wan’s braid, even though he doesn’t love him yet.

Maybe the Jedi do things differently. Maybe the Jedi weave the braid, and the love comes later.

---

“I remember a young boy telling me my hair was ugly,” his master says consideringly, as he lets himself be pushed to the floor while Anakin clambers onto the bed behind him.

“You bring that up every time, Master,” he sighs as he strokes his hands through Obi-Wan’s admittedly beautiful mane of hair. It’s not as long as he’d like, not really, but it doesn at least go down to his shoulders. “I don’t know how many times you want me to apologize.”

“Oh, just once more,” his master smiles with his voice. Anakin will miss this. Anakin doesn’t know how he’ll live without it, without Obi-Wan’s quiet wit and wry humor, his willingness to indulge Anakin no, even if it’s been eight years of braid-practicing.

“Once more might be all we have time for, Master,” Anakin whispers. His fears are not the sort one can say loudly.

“Do not think like that,” Obi-Wan turns his head to the side just enough so that he can look up at Anakin. “It will be fine. I will be fine.” “You’d be better if I came with you!” Anakin argues loudly. “You know I’m old enough! It’s not fair!”

His voice cracks on the last word, making him wince as Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow.

“The Jedi Council and all Republic legal branches have spoken. We will not take children into a warzone--”

“Then don’t, but I’m almost eightee--”

“--And I agree with them.”

Anakin’s fingers slacken on the strands of hair, loosening the braid. “You do?” he asks, feeling betrayed. “You want to leave me here at the Temple while you go get yourself killed on some Mid-Rim planet?”

“I want you safe, Padawan,” Obi-Wan corrects, breaking away from him so that he may stand up and sit beside him on the bed. “A war is no place for Jedi, but while us knights have no choice but to fight, we would keep our younglings as far from it as possible--even those younglings who are only a few months shy of being eighteen.”

“You’re taking away my choice,” Anakin says quietly, anger abating enough that he has to struggle to hide the fear in his voice. He brings his knees up against his chest and curls tightly into himself. “What if you die and--and--” he breaks off and pulls useless at his Padawan braid.

He knows what it means now after eight years spent at the Jedi Temple. It’s supposed to denote the Padawan from the Master, and signify the respect an apprentice has for their teacher.

But he’s never been able to shake his original conclusion that it was a representation of love, though he’d never say that aloud.

But when he touches it, sees it in the mirror, he’s reminded only of the love he bears for his master. A guilty, shameful love that takes up too much of his mind and heart. He’d fallen in love with Obi-Wan somehow. Now when Anakin dreams of marriage beads, his fingers are invariably braiding them into coppery blond hair. Now when Anakin dreams of--well, other things, it’s always Obi-Wan’s body beneath his, over his, inside of his, around his--

And now the galaxy is at war, the Knights and Masters of the Jedi Temple called to defend the Republic, and Anakin is too young to follow his master.

“And what, dear one?” Obi-Wan asks gently, hand coming up to unclasp Anakin’s fingers from his braid. “If I die, you will let me go as any Jedi would. I will become one with the Force and you will continue forward.”

Anakin almost wants to shake his shoulders. Doesn’t his master know anything about Anakin at all? How could Obi-Wan say these things as if he believes them? If Obi-Wan were to die--if he were to die away from Anakin, without Anakin--if the unthinkable were to happen--Anakin doesn’t know what he’d do.

A part of himself would die as well, he knows that immediately. He’d cut Obi-Wan’s braid from his hair so that the man could be buried with it, and he’d never weave another.

“Have faith in me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan tells him softly, hand falling to rest on his shoulders. “I will come back. Or perhaps in a few months you will join me.” He sounds falsely enthusiastic, like he’d do anything to keep Anakin away from the war.

As if Anakin would let that happen as soon as he’s legally able to fight.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” he whispers, slowly sitting cross-legged.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan says immediately, sinking back to the floor.

“Will you keep them in this time? For as long as you can?” Anakin asks, shily, running his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair slowly, savoring the softness of the strands.

“I will do my best,” his master promises him. “What will they mean?”

“Good fortune,” Anakin replies, seeing the braid come together in his mind’s eye. Yes, good fortune, a plea to the gods who see Obi-Wan in battle to look the other way. To take someone else instead. He gets to work, collecting a chunk of hair on the left side of Obi-Wan’s temple to braid back.

Nothing’s fixed. Nothing’s better. The person Anakin’s pretty sure is the love of his life will be sent out to fight tomorrow at dawn, and he might die never knowing how Anakin feels about him.

But it’s not like Anakin can tell him either, not when he’s seventeen. Not when he’s Obi-Wan’s Padawan.

He’s always planned to wait until after he’s been Knighted, after Obi-Wan has been given enough time to see Anakin as a man who has a choice whether or not to love him. And, yes, the Code forbids attachment and Jedi cannot marry, but it’s not like Anakin would ever be able to marry Obi-Wan legally even on Tatooine.

But he could give him the braids, if Obi-Wan wanted. That way, when they both died, in their sleep of natural causes, the Goddess Leia knows to keep their souls intertwined as she transports them to their afterlife.

Anakin’s fingers pause as he thinks of something that would make him feel better.

He bites his lip. His mother would disapprove. To give the braids to someone without their knowledge is heavily frowned upon.

Anakin winces, even as his hands change direction. These are extenuating circumstances. There’s a lot at stake here. Anakin can’t risk a life and an afterlife without his master. And he’s going to ask him eventually. Just not now. Just not yet.

The braids for good fortune form a crown over one’s head. The braids for marriage…

They start similarly enough at the temples, but connect to each other at the back of the head, where a third braid is begun. Then each braid is braided into each other. The left braid represents the braider. The right braid represents their beloved. The third braid that begins when the two meet represents the life that they will create together.

Anakin holds the three braids loosely in his hands, staring down at them in some sort of surreal shock. This is not the circumstances he has imagined doing this under, but he’s heartbroken. Not when it’s Obi-Wan who will be wearing his braids.

“Dear one?” Obi-Wan asks, breaking the heavy silence. “I do not mean to rush you, but my knees are starting to hurt.”

“You’re so old,” Anakin quips back, stroking a thumb over one of the braids, the right one--Obi-Wan’s.

“And you are so very young,” Obi-Wan retorts. “The two of us together is the equivalent of one good soldier.”

Anakin’s heart pauses for a second. “Would you want that?” he asks nonsensically.

“What?”

“If you could choose. If I were eighteen. Would you want to be…” Just as suddenly as he gained that sudden burst of confidence, he loses it. He sighs, mostly in disappointment at himself.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan prompts.

“You’d want me there with you if I weren’t too young, wouldn’t you, master?” Anakin finally says.

Obi-Wan hesitates, and Anakin’s chest feels tight. “I would want you safe, regardless of age, dear one,” he settles on saying.

Anakin’s fingers clench down on the almost complete marriage braids. “But if there were no war,” he forges ahead. “If the war never happened. You wouldn’t want to leave me behind. You’d want to stay together.”

Anakin can just imagine the furrowed eyebrows Obi-Wan must be sporting as he tries to figure out what Anakin wants from him.

“Just answer the question,” Anakin begs, tightening his hold on the braids to prevent Obi-Wan from turning around.

“You are my Padawan, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says slowly. “And someone who will one day be my partner, my friend. I would like...very much to be allowed to see you finish growing into the fine man you will be. The one that in many ways you already are.”

“And then?” Anakin asks doggedly. “When we’re both knights. And you’re assigned...a mission. And you get to choose your partner. And it’s me or. Or someone else. I don’t care. Who would you choose?”

“Well, I suppose it would depend on if this fabricated mission depends on stealth. Secrecy. The ability to tell a believable falsehoo--”

“I’m being serious,” Anakin insists, cutting his master off. He almost wants to drop the braids, let them fall apart. Clearly Obi-Wan doesn’t...perhaps won’t ever--

“It’d be you,” Obi-Wan murmurs very quietly, as if afraid to speak louder. “We are better together than we are separate.”

Anakin blinks and then smiles, only a little teary-eyed at his master’s confession. “Yes, Master,” he agrees, finally--finally--braiding the three braids together and tying them off neatly. He pictures the material of their souls responding the same way that Obi-Wan’s hair has. The thought makes him feel equal parts giddy and guilty.

“After all, someone needs to make sure you don’t crash every ship in the Jedi Temple,” Obi-Wan continues dryly.

“Yes, Master,” Anakin agrees again, running a hand lightly over his work.

He’ll tell him when he’s a Knight. Really.

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (08)

word count; 12,516

summary; noah does his best to fit in, and it doesn’t quite go as planned, but that’s okay.

notes; it’s finally happening.

warnings; noah is a bit of a jerk, but it’s over pretty quickly.

The sun was out again, the grass was filled with people, and it seems that they had gained the good luck you had missed. This sun was bringing warmth, a radical change from only a  week ago, as your sundress today was entirely fitting. With hair clipped back away from your shoulders to keep cool and sunscreen on your bare skin to stop yourself from burning, you were soaking up the rays.

The group you were gathered with had been lucky enough to snag a table to sit out at, blankets laid out and pinned down in the light breeze by picnic blankets, shoes and rocks for those who hadn't made it to a table in time, and you didn’t envy them at all. Despite the warmth, the grass was still a little damp, mud still tar-like as it moved toward drying out, and yet the space was still heaving. It mildly resembled that of a festival or a beach on the Fourth of July.

Leaning back a little, your face tipped up to the sky, the chatter of your friends surrounding you drowning out as warmth washed over your face, lids closed but barely doing anything to block out the light, and you smiled. You loved the summer, always had, it was your favourite season. Something about the warmth, the longer nights and the smoky smell that came with barbecues or the salt of the ocean at the beach. As you sat, face directed to the sky, the sun was suddenly blocked, a cooler air falling over you, and your frowned, cracking your eyes open to see what had happened.

“Noah, hi.” You beamed, sitting up properly to turn around, and the man nodding his head, a hint of a smile on his face. A pair of dark black sunglasses were sitting on his nose, a pretty contrast to dark hair and darker denim jeans, a charcoal t-shirt on his shoulders, but there was no jacket. His bag was slung over one shoulder, and as his presence was made known, several others around the table greeted him, too. He seemed to have a warmer reaction to them, a wonderful smile as he offered his greetings, and your brows furrowed a little.

You ignored the action, despite its unfamiliarity with you. He was treating you once again like he had done months ago, when first getting to know you, a time when there was no trust built between you both. Taking a seat beside you at the table, you only just had a chance to move your skirt out of the way before he was sitting down. Swinging his bag over to the side, you waited for him to say anything else, his hands sitting atop the table as his forearms leaned on the wood, and your frown was only deepening.

Running a finger along his forearm, his face turned to you, brows rising up from behind the glasses, and a smirk on his face.

“You okay, there?” He teased, your eyes narrowing on him just a little, and his arm flexed slightly under your touch, before he was pulling his arm away from you, and the smirk on his face widened. “What? There’s something going on up there, so you might as well spill it.”

“Nothing, I guess.” Your words were mumbled out, and he only nodded, not bothering to wait for a second longer, before he was turning back to the conversation. Something within your stomach twisted. Confusion at his behaviour, uncertainty whether it was something you had done, or whether this was simply who he was when he didn’t let his anxiety get in the way. “I just thought I wasn’t seeing you until later, is all?”

“I thought I’d join you for lunch. Is that so bad?” He was grinning again, a more cocky smile than you were used to seeing from him, and on the few occasions you had seen it, it was never in a setting like this. “I thought you wanted me to get out there, make friends. Is it because I’m not all yours anymore?”

A couple of the other boys around the tables chuckled, various girlfriends and partners slapping at their arms in retaliation for the joke about being controlling, and your lips pursed into a thin line. “No. I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”

He seemed a little taken aback by your shorter tone with him, one of your brows raising slightly in a challenge to his behaviour. Taking his glasses from the tip of his nose, he folded them in the middle, tucking them into his shirt, to rest on his colour. Sweet brown eyes were searching your own, and you shrugged a little. His smirk lessened, becoming a slight frown, and for a moment, you thought he was going to leave behind whatever it was that was wrong and let you in, but then, he was stolen away into a conversation.

Just a brief mention of his name was all that it took, and his focus was moving away from you entirely. You were glad that he had made more friends, you really were. You’d been working hard to try and introduce him to new people in a way that wouldn't spark his anxiety. Run-ins on walks the two of you shared, people you bumped into while out getting coffee or simply introducing him to someone you knew that you thought he’d get along with.

You’d seen Noah every single day for the last week, there hadn't been a moment that wen toast that the two of you hadn't been in contact, whether in person or via text. For as many days as you could count now, he was the last person you’d spoken to before going to bed, and the first person you had spoken to when waking up in the morning. He was the person who made you laugh when you were stressed, and the man who sent you recipes when you didn’t know what to cook. He was the person who sat by your side doodling on the tops of your work pages while you tried to get some studying done, before eventually distracting you enough to give up.

You couldn’t place anything you’d done wrong. The last time you’d seen him had been the afternoon before, when you’d gotten a coffee together and walked around campus, and you’d spoken to him only an hour or so ago. His behaviour made no sense to you, it was unprompted and without reason, and it was leaving the feeling of a put welling in your stomach.

The thought of it being some kind of reverse attempt at soothing his anxiety flittered over your mind, and so in an attempt to test the theory, you leaned over. Shuffling up close to his side, your arm looped through his, and he paused his speech for just a second. He’d been talking to the boy across from you both, telling them all about the renovation work he’d spent a summer doing with his dad on the house, and he turned to look at you.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe for his arm to tighten around yours, to pull you in a little closer. A smile, a kiss to your forehead, something softer than the look you got with an arrogant smirk that made you feel like you were locked out from him, and when he turned back to continue the conversation without any of the options that had run through your head, your discomfort only increased.

Your arm sagged against his, his arm flexing for a second a spike of hope raced through you. But, he was simply shifting, his arm moving away from yours in a way that made you shuffle backwards. Reaching into his pocket, he produced his phone, laughing slightly at a joke that you hadn't caught from someone else around the table, and you pulled your hand back into your lap instead of placing it back through his arm.

Everything about it made you uncomfortable. The wondering, the insecurity, the fear of having done something wrong and forced him back into his shell with you. It was enough to make you feel sick to your stomach, and despite your lingering gaze on him for minutes now, he never turned to you. Checking your phone, the afternoon was tickling on. Your lunch was passed finished, your afternoon wide open with nothing else to do, as it seemed all plans with Noah seemed to have fallen through with his new personality.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, the new attitude was like that of half of your exes, or your friends and the people who were around you. You didn’t mind it so much on them, of course, it would the attitude that they would greet you with, because there was nothing deeper between you with them. Every friendship you had was teasing, there was nothing that merited anymore more. With them, your physical contact was limited to that of greetings and goodbyes, hugs and the occasional kiss to the cheek.

With Noah, though, you’d felt like something was different.

You’d felt like perhaps there was something more between you both, something a little beyond simple friendship. Something flirty, the kind of sweet-like-honey feeling that made you get butterflies and have your cheeks ache from smiling, or your eyes sore from staying up late, staring at a screen in the dark just to talk to him.

Clearly, that wasn’t how he felt, too.

You tried to join the conversation, to talk to the girls around you as the men were all sucked into a chat that you evidently weren’t intended to be a part of. You could keep up for a while offering your input on everything they talked about. You liked that about the girls you were friends with, they were easy to skip between topics, moving from one thing to another with ease, and sharing gossip that they had heard.

For a while, it made you feel better, a little more comforted and a little less alone, but despite his presence right next to your side, the warmth from his body and the brief brushes of his shoulder with yours when he moved, but it only made you feel more lonely. You felt shut out, as though the cold wall that you had spent so long breaking down had shot right back up, twice as thick. You couldn't take it anymore.

Packing away your books into your bag, you stood from the table, several pairs of eyes moving to you as you stood, and you offered them all the best smile that you could muster at that moment. Once they were all sealed away, you placed your bag up on your shoulder, and your hands met the wood. Leaning over slightly, the conversation went quiet as you became the centre of attention.

“Sorry to break this up, but I got to go.” Several soft complaints came, attempts to convince you to stay, and you smiled at the effort that at least some of your friends were making. “If anything exciting happens, text me.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I was just thinking we should go and get some coffee, or something.”

Laurel was staring up at you expectantly, her eyes a little wider and you sighed, shaking your head. As much as you’d loved to, the bad mood you had gained from Noah’s new attitude was bringing down your social battery, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last. “I would, but I have some studying to do, and a couple of other things. I’ll catch up with you later, though, alright?”

There were some goodbyes, and even a hug from the girl beside you, before you were beginning to trail away from them. The chatter around the table was quickly replaced by the groups you began to weave through, a polite smile on your face to everyone you passed by as you tried not to encourage any more conversations. By the time you were reaching the edge of the grass and moving to the concrete, the heavy footfalls of another person moving slightly faster than you were catching you up.

A hand on your shoulder, pulling you lightly to a stop, and as you turned around, you yes scanned up to find the face of a man you were familiar with as your instinct kicked in, accustomed to his height by now. “Where you goin’?” He questioned, panting a little from the effort he’d exerted to catch up with you, and you tried not to scowl at him as he stared.

His face was softer now, instead of the cheeky look he’d been holding all afternoon, it was something much more genuine and earnest, the kind of look you were used to from him. It was throwing you through a loop just trying to keep up with him. “Home. I have some work to do.”

You moved again, walking away from him, and he let out a confused grunt, boots scuffling on the tarmac of the parking lot as he caught back up to you. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought we were supposed to be going to the garage? I’m working on your car tonight, I brought new bulbs for your headlights because they’re kinda’ dimmed, and I don’t want you getting into an accident or anything.”

You frowned, eyes narrowing on him for a second, and your shoulders slumped under his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” His hand reached out, trailing down along your arm towards your hand, and he had the audacity to let a hurt look flicker across his face when you pulled back from him by just a fraction. It was enough, though. Enough for his hand to fall away, his fingertips brushing over your arm, before it fell back to his side, dismay evident on his face.

“What is with this hot and cold act you have going on?” His jaw dropped, no words coming out, and heat crawled up along his cheeks slightly while he gaped at you. Instead, you took the initiative, shaking your head a little at him, and he only sank in on himself a little further. “You were so sweet this morning. The Noah I’ve come to know, and then suddenly at lunch, you’re this different person. Kinda’ a jerk, actually. Now, you’re all gentlemanly again. I don’t get you, but I don’t want to hang out with someone who’s gonna’ pick me up and drop me like a yo-yo.”

His eyes flicked over your face, lips pursing closed in a tight line, and you waited a moment longer. As the silence grew, you moved away from him, taking steps again a little further, and it was a few more seconds before he moved again. He was slower, long strides falling him into step beside you, and he didn’t try to stop you, but his head hung a little, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, alright? But when the other Noah shows back up, let me know.”

He chuckled, dry and hollow, before he was rounding in front of you, giving you only a second to stop before you were colliding with him, and there were mere inches between your bodies. Staring up at him, your brows shot up again, and he tried to offer a gentle smile to you. “I just thought that if I acted the way your other friends acted, I’d fit in a little better, and you’d like me more.”

“You were trying to get me to like you more? By acting like a dick, and making me feel weird about ‘us’?”

“Reverse psychology?” He whispered, and he relaxed when the smile on your face came out.

“I’m the psychology major, leave that to me.” You teased, and he nodded his head. Leaning down, his nose brushed over your forehead, lips pressing to your skin in a soft kiss, the act you were used to, and you sighed as he did. “There he is.”

His hands smoothed over your sides, pulling you in closer and your hand came up to rest on his cheek. Stroking the skin across his cheekbone gently with your thumb, his head tipped into your hand.

“I don’t want you to be anyone else, okay? I like you plenty enough just the way you are.”

“You’ll still come hang out with me, then? Because it gets lonely when you don’t keep me company at the garage, now. I’ve become accustomed to having company.” He reached out again, his hand smoothing along your arm, and you didn’t pull away this time. Rather, you let his hands find yours, fingers weaving together until your palms were pressed up to one another. He smiled, something bashful and dopey, and it was an adorable kind of expression. The cold of the band he had wrapped around his thumb today was rubbing against your finger, and you squeezed at his hand. “I’m gonna’ take that as a ‘yes’.”

“‘Kay, I forgive you. Don’t get weird again, though.” He nodded his head, making you grin as he tugged you in a new direction, a ninety-degree angle to head towards the bike. He made his promise, making you grin when he held out a tattooed finger for you to link your own with, sealing the promise together.

Opening up the back-box on the bike, and pulling out your helmet. Letting you settle your things inside, he placed the helmet down on your head, pulling your hair back and out of the way. Leaning in, his lips brushed over your nose, breath panted lightly over your lips, something heavier settling over the both of you, and you couldn’t help the breathy giggle you let out.

You reached for his helmet, having learned where the catch underneath the seat was, and you opened it up to select the protection from inside. Lifting it, he ducked his head to let you place the helmet on his head, brushing back the longer strands of chocolate-brown hair to settle it there. Smoothing your fingers down along his jaw, you fastened up the catch under his chin, his head tipping up to let you do so. Before his head moved down, you shifted upward, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, and he was beaming when his head came back down.

His finger spinach the tip of your nose, between his thumb and his index, your face screwing up with a soft laugh when he did. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Swinging your leg over the bike, you settle down first, your hands landing on the steering, a dangerous look portrayed him as you smirked. “In a summer dresses and lollipops kind of way, right?”

“Mhm.” He teased, fastening your helmet up and tipping it to sit properly on your head as he stood before you. Moving his eyes further down, his sights scanned over you “You look good on my bike.”

“You should let me drive. I think I’ve got it, now. I would be awesome at this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you shuffled back to make space for him. With every catch done up and the boxes sealed, his leg swung over the bike, settling himself down on the leather. With the impact of him sitting, you slid down the seat, the insides of your thighs pressing to the outsides of his own, and your front was pressed to his back. His hand came out, circling behind his body to find your wrists, and he pulled your arms around his body. “If you drove, how would I get you to hold onto me like this? I like the attention, what can I say?”

“You could just ask.”

“Oh, yeah?” He twisted the keys in the ignition, the bike sparking to life underneath you, and your hands tightened a little more around him. Revving the bike slightly, he kicked off the latch that kept it secured to the ground, balancing it between his own feet as you tucked yours away. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You should.” You mumbled, chin tucked over his shoulder to whisper the words near his ear, and you could see the smile stretch on his face. Pulling back, your forehead rested between his shoulder blades, squeezing him once in signal to let him know you were ready, and then he took off.

You’d grown used to it now, the slight grind of the tyres on the concrete as he took off and then the streets whizzing by. You like the sights, the way the lights seemed to become like a blur when you moved, The tips and tilts, the way the bike bounced when you went through potholes or over the bumps in the road, it had all started to feel natural. It was the same when you were with him.

Noah had been a stranger to you, but he was a constant in your life now. He was by your side more than he wasn’t now, and you couldn't deny the bond that you’d formed with him It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. He didn’t force you to be anything you weren’t, he didn’t make you feel insecure, or less worthy, or like you had to constantly be the best version of yourself to impress him. He didn’t drain you down like others did, he didn’t make you feel less, or like you couldn't be yourself. You loved who you were around him, and how being with him made you feel.

Twisting your head, your eyes closed, cheek resting against his back as he moved. He was going slower than usual today, the journey taking a little longer, and while the quiet was filling the space between you both, it was comfortable. Everything with Noah seemed to be that way, now. The two of you were seemingly opposites, everything about you felt like something that would clash but there was just something between the two of you that worked. Like magnets drawn together, or opposing puzzle pieces, you fit together perfectly.

He forced you out of your comfort zone, to do things like ride a motorbike while you forced him to approach the people he’d seemingly decided hate him, only to discover he was capable of making friends. Each of your downfalls, he seemed to lift up. One by one, he was raising you up, making you a better person, and giving back to you just as much as you gave to him. It was effortless to be around him, something that had happened both slowly and at light speed. Winning his trust had turned into so much more, once the door had been opened, it was like the two of you had moved past acquaintances and friends, to hover on the verge of something else.

He was constantly on your mind, and when he wasn’t, it didn’t take long before you saw something that reminded you of him, a joke or a comment online, even just the way someone would walk across campus or the outfit they’d wear, it all seemed to come back to him.

When the pair of you had finally pulled up to the edge of his garage, he was cruising slowly between the sheds. More doors than usual were open today, the crowds were a little busier, but with the sunny weather, you weren’t so surprised. The tones of different music melded together, more students willing to come and spend prolonged periods of time outside when the weather was warm, and the days lasted longer.

Setting up the stand on the bike, your feet reached the floor, trembling a little still from the vibrations of the engine. The sounds went dead as he pulled the keys from the machine, but neither of you moved, his hands dropping down to find your own for just a second, and you lifted one hand. Your fingers weaved with his, before he was pulling your hand up, kissing the back of your hand gently, and the feeling made something explode within you. Butterflies, a tidal wave, something crushing and exhilarating and racing all in one, your heart beating erratically as he lowered your hand back down. “I’m sorry about before. I just wanted to be more like other people you hang out with, other people you’re friends with, or you’ve dated, or whatever. I didn’t want to be a freak.”

Standing up from the bike, you undid the catch on your helmet, putting it down on the seat as he copied your actions, going from looking up at you to once again looking down as he stood taller than you. “You know, when I’m with you, I feel so much better than I do when I’m with them.”

“I just want to be the right guy, you know? Be someone everyone likes, be someone who can fit in. Stiles does it so effortlessly, I can’t be like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to, because I think you’re great the way you are.” You tapped the tip of his nose, the same way he had done to you, and his face screwed up with ticklish responses exactly the same way that you had. “It’s a good thing you cut that out, though, because I got you something.”

“A gift?” He whispered, and you only nodded. Opening the box on the back of the bike, you swapped the helmet in your hand for your bag, laying it out onto the seat so that you had access to it. Opening up the bag and digging through it, you searched until your fingers brushed the silky material, and you could grasp the small item.

“It’s just something small.” You mumbled, beginning to untangle it from the contents inside, and hoping it hadn't gotten creased. Producing the item, his eyes dropped down from your face to the item in your hands, a neutral expression taking over as he considered it. “I like to put decals on my laptop, and all the ones I had were getting old and peeling. I was ordering some new ones, and I saw this one. It made me think of you.”

“It's a daisy.” He took it from you, thumb stroking across the shining plastic, and you nodded.

“Yeah, from the day that you and I sat in the field, and you let me put daisies in your hair.” You reached up, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly, and fluffing it back up from where it had fallen flat. “I figure you could put it on your laptop, or bedpost, or maybe don’t stick it to anything. You could put it on your pinboard in your room, or use it as a bookmark. I don’t know.”

“I love it.”

“You do?” Your heart had been racing, the uncertain expression he had that you couldn't possibly decipher became something like the sun, a wide smile as his chewed-down thumbnail picked at the edges. Peeling the plastic backing away from the transparent and inked design, your brows raised. He moved, pressing the edge of the plastic onto his bike, and sealing it down firmly, your eyes widening. “Noah! That’s your bike!”

“I know. I’ve never had a decal on it before.”

“But, what if it ruins your paint job, or something? I didn’t expect you to stick it on your bike, of all things!” He smirked, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as you rambled to him. Your eyes moved to the sticker, your face cupped by warm palms as your finger smoothed over it, the white and yellow standing out prominently against the black. “What if you decide you don’t like it, or you hate where it’s positioned, or-”

Your breath was held in your lungs as he dipped down closer than he’d ever been as his nose bumped against yours. Your lips brushed, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slowly, and you let out a shaky groan as he did. Your eyes closed, lashes tickling against his as he lingered there The tension was palpable, the split second that he lingered there felt like a thousand dragging on, before his lips met your own.

Soft and warm, his lips pressed tentatively against yours at first, a second becoming two that was filled with hesitation. It was simply his pressed to your own, nothing happened for a second, before it did. His lips moved, fingers digging a little more firmly into your jaw, and his palms slid down. His hand was sitting over your neck, feeling the pounding of your pulse under his hand no doubt, and your mind finally seemed to catch up.

Your lips twisted, a smile making itself evident, and your giggle was muffled against his lips as you sagged a little in his hold. His grip loosened a little, his kisses stopped, pulling back enough to press his forehead to your own, taking a breath, before he was pulling away. “That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.”

There was gravel in his voice, and he swallowed thickly to clear it away, pupils wider than you’d ever seen them when he looked back to you. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I was just caught off-guard.”

“Couldn’t have been that off-guard, I’ve not really been subtle, lately.”

“I just figured I’d have to make the first move.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and one hand lowered further. Smoothing over your side, his hand found your hip, rubbing soothing circles through the material and your whole body felt lost. Like you were floating in the clouds, but weights were tied to your fingertips, arms heavy as you raised them to loop around his neck. “Kiss me again. I won’t laugh this time, I swear.”

“If you do, I’m never kissing you again.” He mumbled, dipping down to brush a pout over your lips, and you scoffed slightly, head pushing up to meet him.

“Liar.” Your words were lost, mouth meeting his in a sweet kiss, and he sighed through his nose as you connected with him. This time, you were ready. Your lips moved back with his, a soft and slow kiss that nothing like you’d ever experienced before.

It was like fireworks, every place he touched as the hand on your waist flexed, and the one from your neck smoothed down along your bag to pull him closer. Your fingertips were tingling, one hand slipping to the back of his neck to hold him close as his mouth worked with yours in a way that emptied your mind. You were clinging to him, one hand down over his chest, feeling his heart racing through his shirt, and as he pulled away, one of his hands came up to hold onto your own on his chest.

You didn’t say anything, and neither did he. You didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. In fact, you were both completely speechless, a few more stolen pecks and bumps of your noses, before there was a grin cracking on your cheeks that you couldn’t contain, and he stood tall again, a kiss on your forehead before he was tucking you under his chin and close to his body.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while. I didn’t know it would feel like that, though.” He whispered, hands taking yours on both sides, linking your fingers together as you rested against his, and you could only nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me back.” He shrugged, and you pulled away, shock written on your face when he peered down to see you.

“I’ve not really been subtle, lately.” You threw his own words back at him, slightly pinker lips than usual showing off white teeth in a smile, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Wanna’ fix my car and talk mechanic to me and I’ll pretend I know what you’re saying?”

“I’ll simplify it for you.” He teased, letting go of your hands after one final squeeze to retrieve his belongings. Zipping up your bag and slinging it over one shoulder, he swapped his helmet for his backpack, tucking his keys into the front pocket, and you followed him around to the front of the building. Putting in the code on the padlock, he undid the lock at the bottom, the rickety metal shutter rolling up higher and higher until the whole doorway was exposed.

Your car lay inside, the hood already popped open and the engine was taken apart. Pieces were on the floor and the counters, like some kind of mechanic gore scene, and you jumped a little as he threw the heavy padlock onto the wooden table. Your bag followed, his was dumped by the side of the car, and he pulled it open, producing four boxes of lightbulbs for your car, shaking each one for a second to ensure they hadn't broken. He seemed pleased with what he heard, laying the boxes along the roof of the car.

It was propped up now, sitting on an angle as it was elevated into the air, and the board that he used to slide under it was still on the floor, indicating that it had been recently used. Taking your phone from your bag, you grabbed for the speaker, hidden in the same place you’d put it on your latest session with him, and began to untangle the wire. Once it was set up, pulled out as far from the wall as it would go, you set your phone down, plugging the device in.

The light on the base changed from red to green, signalling that it had connected, and the speaker let out a crackling sound to confirm the volume. Adjusting the dial a little, and being aware of Noah’s neighbours surrounding you, you turned it down a fraction. As you scrolled through the first couple of sounds, beginning to choose a set to start queuing up, a warm body was meeting your back, and hand smoothing around your waist to sit over your stomach, and once again, your mind was going blank.

His chin hooked onto your shoulder, your heart racing in your chest and a flush covered your entire body, somehow managing to feel like you were on fire in your own skin while also shivering a little, goosebumps rising along your exposed arms. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the skin of your shoulder just to the left of your dress strap, and you leaned back into him a little.

Physical contact was nothing new between the two of you, and had he taken these actions only a day or so ago, you probably would have had a calmer reaction than you did now, but there was something more hanging over it now. A line crossed, a new page in the book, something entirely different that made it that much more exhilarating.

You continue your scrolling, the soft melodies of ‘Brandy’ playing across the air, and the man behind you hummed approvingly. “I forgot that this song even existed. It’s a good choice.”

“It’s my favourite song.” You mumbled, your body beginning to sway side to side with his own in a very simple dance. The tune took up, and you sang lightly under your breath to yourself, Noah humming along behind you as you continued to add songs. Occasionally, he would join you, his finger coming out to tap or point at the screen, a silent suggestion on which ones to add, and within a few minutes, the songs were collected. Enough for an hour, at least, possibly even two, and then you could reconsider what to play when the music ran out.

“Your car should be up and running soon, I’ve been making some pretty good progress on it.”

You turned to face him, sitting down backwards on the spinning stool with the wooden top, and he was walking back toward the car, the toolbox on the opposite workbench already open. His back was to you, grey shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the muscles in his back evident when he leaned over and you let your eyes linger a little longer than usual. The blush you got every time you realised you were checking him out was still present, but it didn’t feel as taboo as it had previously.

“There’s something rattling in your engine and I can’t figure out what, I’ve taken out everything he could be, so I’m starting to think it’s something underneath.”

“That why this place looks like a car’s worst nightmare?” You teased, eyes moving across the pieces of removed engine, and he chuckled, sifting through the tools inside.

“Pretty much. I’ll put it all back together, though, don’t worry. I’ll feel better knowing you’re out on the road in something safe.” You cooed a little at him, his sweet gesture making your chest flood with adoration, bursting from the inside out, and he only rolled his eyes at you, glancing back over his shoulder for a split second. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do once it’s fixed, or where we’ll hang out.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Your tone was coy, and he chuckled, turning back to look at you. He had chosen what he was looking for, something that looked like a short and blunt tool. You weren’t sure what the folded end would be used for, but he was straight into action, leaning over your engine and reaching inside. Twisting in your seat, you reached for your bag, pulling out all of your books. Flicking through your notebook to find the latest empty page, your bag sat open. You’d gathered more than enough information from the pair to be able to start making your conclusions now, but you still felt behind.

Stiles was much further ahead, he had started forming his conclusions and searching for holes in his evidence almost three weeks ago, and he was beginning to redraft his final presentations as he produced a first copy. You were still a while off of being at that stage, becoming progressively more distracted by Noah and the puzzle he presented as you deciphered him, but you couldn't help it.

He was rattling around behind you, a sound that had distracted you for a while at first but had become background noise just like the music had, fading into something that helped your mind to work better than the silence ever did. Your notes seemed like they were blurring on the page, your mind far too busy thinking about recent events than the notes you’d taken on the two.

The songs ticked by, the tinkering behind you fading away and starts and ends of your engineer turning on and off, rattling slightly and making the air around you vibrate for just a second. Your pen scribbled song your paper comparing answers and beginning to draw what information you could and in the times that your mind wandered, you doodled borders around the notes that were just for you to see. The notebook that had once been fresh and crisply pressed was now ragged around the edges, worn pages from constant flicking back and forth, filled with ink and your thoughts as you tried to get them all down.

Occasionally, Noah would come over to join you, a half-drunk bottle of water that he was getting through as he leaned don the unit beside you. His notes had joined your one, his thoughts written down onto the paper, sometimes a joke, something with a sarcastic comment about what you had written, and sometimes it was just his one doodles to join yours.

The work was progressively getting done, and while it wasn’t nearly proceeding at the rate you would get it done alone, you preferred working slower and having his company than racing through it but being all alone. It was more enjoyable, especially when he began to relax more, the deeper rasp of his voice like a security blanket that forced your body to relax once he let go enough to start singing along lowly to the songs.

By the fourth one he had sung, you realised you hadn't written anything in almost ten minutes, pen hovering over the page, and it was beginning to feel hopeless. The sweltering heat was beginning to settle over you like a thick blanket on a too-hot summer’s night. As the afternoon moved on, the breeze was dying down, and the once temperate heat was becoming stifling as it sat stagnantly.

Closing your book and folding your pen inside, you called it a day, deeming it a good day’s work as you put your notebook into your bag, zipping it up, and a soft sound of something dropping beside you caught your attention. Turning around, a slightly damp pile of grey sat beside you, and upon picking it up for further inspection, you released it was a t-shirt.

Turning to the car, the man you were with had disappeared underneath, melodic voice bouncing from the metal on the underside of your car, but the happy trail of dark hairs along the bottom of a toned stomach was still visible, and your mouth rapidly dried at the sight. You turned away, feeling wrong for staring, but like a magnet, your gaze was drawn back to him.

Folding the material you still held neatly as something to simply busy yourself, the chair squeaked as you twisted to place it back down on top of your bag, no longer in a crumpled heap, before turning back to the vehicle. With elbows braced on the edge of the wooden counter, your eyes moved along it. Still covered in a layer of dirt and dust, it needed a good wash, but you’d hadn't bothered to venture as far as the carwash in a long time, trying to save the little life it had left for important travel. As soon as it was back in your possession, however, that would be one of your first priorities.

Moving a little further along, your eyes reached the back wheels, new tyres having been one of the first things Noah had done for you the grip on the other’s fading away, and you vaguely remembered him telling you all about the brake-pads at some point. His chatter about mechanics always became a mess in your mind, much like you were sure your psychology chatter became for him, but you listened intently and tried to keep up, just as he did for you. Simply hearing him talk so passionately was a treasure in itself.

“Oh, my God, you got that dent out.” Your eyes honed in on the spot, and while it wasn’t exactly perfect, it was considerably better than it had been. The wheels of the board scraped along the ground, sliding his body out from under the vehicle.

“Yeah, I noticed it when swapping out your tyres.” You turned back up him, the wide beam on your face dimming a little in shock, because you’d managed to forget his shirtless state for just a second, but now, it was crashing over you all in a sudden rush. His hands were stained with oil, and he stood up the folded muscles from his hunched position going taut as he stood, and he grabbed the nearest scrap of fabric he had, trying to wipe down his hands as best as he could. “It wasn’t too hard, I just had to hammer it out and smooth it over.”

“That was there since I got the car, I thought I’d never get it out!”

Your voice was a little shaky, and as he made his way over, your eyes were drawn to the tattoos on his chest. You’d seen him shirtless twice before, but you’d never had the chance to observe the designs up close. Slightly distorted by sweat and the grease from the underside of the car, you couldn't make them all out, and your fingers itched to reach up and trace the drawings that you had yet to discover.

He took the bottle from by your bag, undoing the cap with ease and raising it to take a gulp of the liquid, and every muscle he had seemed to shift and flex under his skin with the simple action. He wasn’t even trying, tired and dirty and sweaty and he was putting no effort in, but you were sure that you hadn't had a coherent thought for hours now. The song playing came to an end, the music fading out into silence, and you waited for the next one to come, but it never did. That was the second loop you’d put the music on, the hours having flown by, and the sun was shining in to leave longer shadows across the floor as it moved across the sky.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Little bit.” You grinned, holding up two fingers but making sure they were very close together, just to show a small amount, and he chuckled. Wiping the back of a hand over his mouth, he cleared excess water from there, before he was holding the bottle out to you. Taking it gratefully, your mouth had been dry and desperate for a drink since the moment he’d pulled away from you after that first kiss, leaving you dried out and thirsty ever since.

Taking a sip, he stepped away from you, moving to grab your car keys from the side unit and moved to the driver’s seat. The door was already open, and rounding it to the other side, he twisted the key to start the car up. The engine came to life almost immediately, no spluttering or grinding of parts, no multiple attempts needed, and it purred happily as it rotated inside itself, as though it was a brand new vehicle. It wasn’t loud or clunking, and there was no unusual sound being made. Clearly, Noah was just as happy with that result, because he cheered a little to himself.

Shifting inside, he checked various options, everything from the indicators to the headlights and the fog lights. The new bulbs were lighting up perfectly and brightly, clear and start white as opposed to the faded yellow they had been beginning to gather with age. “I am so impressed. Like, awestricken, really.”

“Thanks, kitten.'' Just when you thought you’d managed to put a cap on it, and get your head in a reasonable place, he had thrown a petname in your direction. Once again, you were speechless, thoughtless, and senseless, unable to control the dreamy sigh that was almost a breathy giggle at the sound, trying not to fawn too obviously over the new treatment he was giving you. “I think that pretty much does it.”

“So, when do I get to take her home?”

He was beaming, tapping the roof of the car and killing the engine, before nodding his head at himself. “You can drive her home right now, if you just give me a second to unhook and lower it back to the ground at the back.”

“We’re leaving?”

“You’re bored, and we’re pretty much done here.” You frowned, not having intended to bring your time to an end, as though he could read your mind, he continued on with what he had to say. “Doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye just yet. We can find something else to do.” He rounded the car, hooking a finger under your chin to tip your head up to meet his gaze. He was looking down on you with a sweet smile, nothing but peace and serenity written on his face. “You’re sure you really like me? We’re, like, total opposites.”

“Opposites attract.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and he stepped a little closer to you. The chair made you feel too low, his hair falling into his face as he leaned over you, and you stood to meet him, his gaze following you as he did.

“I thought you were just going to be a burden, you know. I thought that doing this study was gonna’ suck, and I was going to be miserable, but getting to know you has been so different so what I expected.”

Lifting his hand, his palm smoothed over your cheek, letting you tip into his touch. “Yeah, well, first impressions can be misleading. I can be pretty cool.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.” He whispered, gaze dropping down to linger on your lips for a second, and you smiled softly, his face mimicking the notion.

He stared for a second longer, before dipping down. He hesitated for just a second, a laugh carried on his breath that you barely caught, and you leaned up too. Your nose brushed his, nervous breaths shared in the hardly-existent space between you both as your lips continued to brush lightly. He dipped down, his lips pressing lightly to your own as the tension finally came to an end, and there was a smile on his lips as he did. It made it hard, the smiles that neither of you could contain, and your hand roe up to cup his cheek.

Timid pecks, delicate laughs between broken kisses as your noses bumped and lips puckered, trying to contain yourselves. Your heart was racing, he was just as nervous as you were, the new boundary as a friendship turned to a relationship, and it would take a little longer to get used. When he pulled back, a final and longer kiss pressed to your lips, that same sweetly dopey expression was on his face, warm cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“I like that.”

“I got oil on your face.” He mumbled, picking up his shirt from beside you both, shaking it out from its folded position. Hooking the edge of it over his thumb, he wiped at the smear on your face, leaning down to press a kiss to the spot once it was cleared, and your cheeks were almost aching for your smile.

He stepped back from you, lips rolling together to contain his smile, and as he walked, he was pulling his shirt up and over his head. Beginning to pump at the jack behind the car with his foot, your car was lowered back to the ground the back wheels finally touching against the concrete again. With a screeching sound against the concrete, he dragged away the piece of equipment, metal scraping on the stonework floor, and he left it abandoned in the back of the shed.

Reaching for the keys at the edge of your car, he threw them to you, barely giving you a second to catch them before he was snickering to himself at your fumbling, the keys jingling in your touch. “C’mon then. You must be excited to get back in your car.”

You nodded, slinging your bag from the side into the passenger seat, and he was holding your car door open for you, letting you settle inside. Closing it up carefully, you reached for the lever under your seat, adjusting it back to how you liked it. He’d clearly been inside, the distance between the pedals and the seat of legs much longer than yours, and as you adjusted yourself, his arms folded against the edge of the door. Plugging in the key and switching on the engine. As it tumbled to life, you were able to roll the window down, finding it much cleaner and smoother in its movements than it had been.

He leaned in more, bent at the waist as he peered inside, and your fingers flexed on the wheel. “How’s it feel to be back in your car?”

“I feel independent again.” you turned to him, the car still rumbling underneath you. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, try your air-con.” He pointed to the nozzle, all wiped down and polished inside, and you did as told. Instead of sputtering and squeaking, they came on quietly, warm air from the engine turning to cold a second later, and it was a refreshing relief compared to the heat of the day as the sun dared to meet the horizon. “Better, right?”

“Incredible.” You mumbled, daring to mess with the other controls. Your wipers didn’t scrape at the glass, but moved quietly and conveniently, and the windscreen wash was even functional, a little burst of water covering the glass and being quickly wiped away. The gear stick wasn’t so sticky and the pedals were easy to press on once again, just the right amount of pressure underneath. There were no unusual noises coming from your engine. “Almost feels surreal.”

“Yeah, well, the only thing I didn’t do is put gas in the tank, so you’re gonna’ have to do that on your way back.”

“Back to where?” You turned to him, a cheeky look on your face and he smirked, matching you, and settling a little lower until your eyes were level.

“Stiles isn’t home. We can play video games in the main room, and I can do more of this-” He leaned in, pulling you in with a thumb and forefinger on your chin. The smirk he wore became a pout, his lips pressing to your own, and there was more confidence behind it now. All of your kisses so far had been shy and scared, testing the waters and adjusting to how it felt, but now, he was a little more sure of himself. His lips teased over yours, more enveloping than a simple kiss, and you were melting into him. Leaning closer toward the door of the car, your hand was coming to brace yourself against it, finding his arm on the edge of the rolled-down window.

“I like that plan.”

“I’ll meet you there, then.” He stood up, hands patting the edge of the car, before stepping backwards. With a wave before leaving, you undid the clutch, shifting it into first gear, and creeping forwards. Weaving through the boxes carefully, you were unfamiliar with the pathways, making your way towards the road as Noah walked alongside you guiding you to the main quarter. As soon as you knew your way, he was pausing, waving at you in your rearview mirrors and walking back towards his garage shed.

The drive was much easier, a car you felt like you could rely on as you went along, and you were barely along the road before the warning light on your dashboard was flicking on to warn you of a petrol depletion. It seemed that you had only just missed the rush-hour traffic, the roads starting to clear out a thin down, and you were almost disappointed by it. It meant that you didn’t get a chance to test out all your gears and brakes, with how seamless your journey went, but the last thing you wanted was for the car to overheat as you drove along, breaking again already.

Dangling from your mirror as you checked behind, you became aware of the little tree hanging there. A small piece of green felt, the pine smell filling the cabin as you drove becoming less of a mystery, and you lifted your hand to it. Running your fingers lightly over the surface, the cupboards underneath was sturdy, the tree spinning on its string when you let it go.

It was such a small gesture, and yet something so sweet about it as it hung there. Like a permanent reminder of him, something you’d see every time you drove, whether he was with you that day or not. Pulling up into the gas station, your car came to a stop, easy and simple without a lot of stuttering and jerking motions. It was like a miracle. Hopping out, the air-con that had been inside had grown comfortable, the warm air outside was suddenly prickling along your skin, like an itch that you couldn’t get to.

Rounding to the side and beginning to start the pump, your eyes moved over the station. There was only one other car, a mother with two children in car seats in the back, who both seemed to be hyperactive. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, giggling and smacking their hands against the window, and as her eyes met your own, she gave you a tried smile. You offered a little wave, the two small children inside the car reciprocating it too, and only a moment later, her husband was appearing from inside the shop. The bell overhead jingled as he exited, jogging slightly as he put his wallet back into his pocket.

They were pulling out as you finished, letting the nozzle drip clean for a second before you were putting it back on the hook. Locking up the car and making your way inside, there was a swift breeze of air conditioning over the doorway, the air inside chilled, and it was almost a little too cold. Rows full of treats and food for road trips and hungry children, or simply just bored snacking were laid out, multicoloured wrappers that were eye-catching.

Wandering through the aisles, you built an armful of the treats, unable to resist temptations as you bought a range of everything from pretzels and chips to candy and chocolate. The cashier behind the counter was chewing gum, a bored look on his face and you thought that he couldn't possibly be older than Junior year in high school as he rang it up. Packing it all into a bag and adding your tab from the lot outside, your card was pressed into the reader. Punching your PIN in to follow it, the out of date machine took a few extra seconds to go through, before your payment was confirmed.

A full tank and a bag of snacks, and you were back in the car, tucking the recent purchases down into the shadowed footwell and out of the way of the sun that was just beginning to brush the horizon. The clock on your dash told you the veering was rolling in, the night going to be uncomfortably hot and your car started back up with ease. The display flashed for a second as the engine restarted, and then, you were on the road.

Parking up beside Stiles’ building, windows rolled up and your snacks hidden in your backpack, you swung it onto your shoulder. Three flights of stairs, one long corridor, and two knocks on hardwood, and you waited. It was nostalgic to be here waiting for him, but the nerves you’d had months ago when waiting for a boy you barely knew were entirely washed away. Swinging it open, Noah filled the doorway, a smile so bright you wanted to cover your eyes on his face as he greeted you.

“Wow, what a surprise. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, were you expecting someone?” You played along, and he let you inside, closing the door behind you as you toed off your shoes to leave beside the doorway.

“You know, I was. I have a super cute girl coming over soon, so you’re gonna’ have to make this quick.” He shrugged, his hands coming to find your waist and pull you a little closer as soon as you’d put your bag down on the couch. “Oh, wow, super cute girl alert. Hi.”

You’re secretly a total dork, huh?” Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, hand sliding down over his chest, and there was the sticky printing of a patch under your skin. Looking down to his shirt, it was navy blue now, a logo for a band you didn’t recognise beginning to fade on the front. “You changed.”

“I was sweaty and oily.” He took your hand, dragging you over to the couch, and pushing you to sit down with the other hand on your shoulder. He moved away, switching on the televisions and the console, two drinks of soda laid out before you, and he slumped down into the couch by your side. Your legs folded underneath yourself, taking the bag from the cushion it lay on, and dropping it into his lap. “A school bag. Thanks so much, just what I wanted, how’d you know?”

“Look inside.” Your eyes rolled involuntarily despite your grin, and he did as told, nimbly undoing the zip on it, and opening the bag up. Pulling out the folded brown pair, he indeed the top, peering inside at the contents.

“Oh, you brought snacks.” He stared in at them, before he was turning to you, a playfully accusatory look on his face as his eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Did you break that car already?”

“No.” You frowned, his finger coming up to poke and smooth at the wrinkled forming o your forehead. “Why do you think I did something?”

“Because all the previous times you’ve brought me food, it’s because you did something.” You scoffed, smacking at his arm and pretending it was an accident as you picked up a candy bar out of the bag, peeling the wrapper down.

“What the hell do you mean ‘all’?” You bit a chunk off of it, and he shook a bag of chips, distributing the flavour inside, before tearing it open. He crunched loudly as he placed one of the triangular chips into his mouth, twisting to face you some more.

“Okay, first time; You bought my coffee after ambushing me in my home and insulting me-”

“I did not insult you, you jumped to conclusions!” He pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your words, and grinning cheekily.

“It’s rude to interrupt people, you know.” He placed another chip into his mouth, chewing happily, and lowering his hand from your mouth. “Second time, you brought pizza after ambushing me on my lunch break.” Your jaw dropped, but you remained quiet, a huff and a scowl on your lips at his words. “Third time, you brought lasagne after ambushing me at the coffee cart.”

“I don’t like the way that you portray me.”

“Fourth time, you forced me to go out to a restaurant, which you technically didn’t bring food to, but it was still overwhelming.” You sighed, taking a bite of your chocolate, and he wiggled his fingers a little as he rode his thumb to create a fifth finger. “Fifth time, you said you were planning to bring me food but didn’t have any after the first time you ambushed me at my garage.”

“Why do you keep saying ambushed?” You scowled, his hand coming down to rest on his knee, and you pushed it away. That only made him laugh, his hand coming back, leaning down to grip just above your ankle at your calf a little more firmly, and lifting your leg up.

“Because that’s exactly what you did.” He pulled you closer, your legs slinging across his lap as he dragged you across the couch, and he looked overly proud of himself for the shocked noise you elicited as he did so. “But, somewhere between the third and fourth times, I stopped being irritated by it, and your continued persistence and unwavering enthusiasm because kinda’ cute.”

His hand came up to brush through his hair, he broke the silence with the loud crunching of another potato chip. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Only if you promise to kiss me afterwards.”

“Deal.” You teased, shuffling a little closer to him, and he moved the bag of snacks from leaning on his stomach to sitting beside the both of you. “You know that first time I came to see you here, when I asked you about the study? You said some really mean things about yourself, like ‘criminal’ and ‘lowlife’, what did you mean?”

His lower lip dragged through his teeth, eyes leaving yours for a second, and the sweet and joyful moment between you both came crashing down into something much heavier. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not actually a criminal. People just started that because one night I was at a bar on the edge of town that seems a little sketchy, and a bar fight broke out, The cops showed up, and a guy got stabbed. I was actually out the back smoking at the time, so, I didn't even see all the excitement.”

“I’m sorry that the rumour started, though.” Your hand sank to his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin slowly.

“Stiles got really mad when he heard that rumour, and he cleared it up on his podcast, but the damage was done. Yet another reason why nobody wanted to be my friend.” You leaned in, kissing his forehead like he tended to do for you, and he tipped up, nose bumping yours in a silent ‘thank you’ for the comfort. “I just saw myself as a low-life. I let the rumours travel, I wasn’t even trying to make friends. I let my whole college experience slip away because I wanted to avoid confrontation or stress. You might have ambushed me, and forced me out of my comfort zone, but I think someday, I’m gonna’ look back on that and be grateful.”

You grinned, forehead resting on his as your hand slipped down, finding his shoulder instead, and his head tipped a little further upwards.

“Now, make good on that promise.”

“Oh, I plan to..” You whispered, lips brushing against his teasingly. You stayed where you were, though, letting him lean in a little closer until he almost had his lips pressed to yours, before you were shifting. He huffed, chasing you again, and you repeated the action, making him groan at the brief teasing. You chuckled, his hand flexing around your ankle, before his hand was sliding up to your knee, and you laughed a little more at the needy action.

“You’re being cruel.” He whined, and you were ready to give in, fingertips pressing into the flesh of his shoulder through the new shirt, before there was muffled shouting from the corridor. Loud, and angry, only getting clearer as the voice moved closer to the apartment, and it wasn’t until there was a set of keys in the lock and the door was opening.

You pulled back, sitting up a little further as Stiles came in, but the man didn’t seem to notice the two of you yet. He was yelling, a series of curse words to whoever was in the corridor behind him, and you recognised the equally angry voice of Derek, before the door was slamming shut. He paused, letting out a loud scream of anger at himself as he stared at the closed door, and you twisted on the couch, kneeling on it with your arms braced along the back to look at him.

Hanging up his jacket, Stiles turned to you both, jumping as he saw you there. The anger remained for only a second, before it was melting away into guilt, quickly followed by sadness. His shoulders slumped, scowl becoming a heavy frown as the wrinkles loosened into something sad, and he was frowning at you both.

“Sorry for all the yelling.” He started at you both for a second longer, his lower lip practically wobbling with his sadness as his hands came up to clutch together in front of himself.

“Is this a best friend or a brother moment? I can’t tell, what did Derek do?” You tried to keep your voice low. Shifting your bag to the floor with a sweep of your hand to make space for Stiles, and shuffling up so that he could sit in the middle of you both.

“If it’s a sex thing, it’s definitely a best friend thing.” Noah added, and you turned to stare at him, incredulous above all, but Stiles let out a weak and watery laugh.

“It’s really nice to have you both here.” He came over, staring at the snacks that were laid out, and your bag on the floor, shoulders only slumping further. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever the two of you were doing.”

“We weren’t doing much. Yet.” Noah sighed, and you twisted to him, glaring for his joke, and he shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to keep a serious face. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry. You wanna’ watch movies, or something?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” He kicked off his shoes, leaving them abandoned by the coffee table, and he settled down between you both. Placing a cushion on your lap, you patted it, and he shot you a thankful look before moving to lay down. Resting his head against the cushion, his feet landed in his brother's lap. “Will you stay?”

“If you want me to.” You mumbled, nails scraping in feather-light patterns along his hairline.

As you stroked his hair gently, he began to relax a little further, and once he did, he began to spill. He was steady long enough to select a film, one of the Star Trek movies, surprisingly, and he sat silently, eating the snacks that you had purchased, for almost twenty minutes. After the food was finished, though, he broke.

The volume on the television was turned down and he was dominating the conversation, spilling everything that was weighing on his mind and heart. The problems came back to Derek, and the future between the two of them concerning the end of college. Derek had set plans that he’d always been planning on, and Stiles wanted to be more flexible, but neither was willing to budge. The conversation had never come up before, and now, with only a couple of short months left until the decision had to be made.

He admitted how nice it was to have you both here, the three of you sitting in companionable silence to follow his confessions about his relationship, and Noah stretched his arm out along the back of the couch towards you. It wasn’t the night that either of you had expected, and it wasn’t the most exciting, but it was enough. Your fingers wove with Noah’s sitting along the back of the cushion, and Stiles was mouthing along with the words on the screen as the movie came to an end.

It was cooler now, the sun having passed beyond the horizon, and you’d texted Lydia to let her know where you were as dusk was setting in. By the time that the credits were rolling, the man with his head in your lap had fallen asleep, snoozing softly with snores that were barely audible. Noah’s thumb was stroking over your hand, and he leaned over, empty wrappers crinkling as he moved, before the television was being switched off.

“So, that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“It’s okay. Stiles needed us.” You shrugged, fingers weaving through the sleeping boy’s hair again, and his face had finally gone back to relaxed as he rested. “I should get going, though. It’s getting late. We can just rearrange.”

You yawned, covering your mouth as you did. Using the edges of the pillow, you lifted Stiles' head, enough to slip out from underneath him and you stood up. Your head had gone numb a while back, the pins and needles having passed and you shook your leg to try and wake it back up. Your butt was aching, making you wobble with each step you took, and Noah grinned as he followed your actions.

Grabbing the stray wrappers and putting them back into the paper bag, he reached for one of the spare blankets, tucking it over his brother and making sure he was secure.

“Why don’t we have breakfast together tomorrow morning?”

“I’d like that.” Your arms looped his waist, and his circled your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. “Where?”

“Here, if you stay over?” You studied him for a second, and his eyes widened, a pink colour coating his cheekbones. “Not with me. Not, y’know, I mean-” His blush only deepened, and you chuckled at him. “I just meant that you can stay in Stiles’ room. He won’t wake up until the morning now, anyway, and you’re tired. It’s dark and you shouldn't have to go home alone.”

You smiled, leaving him hanging in the suspense for a second longer, before putting him out of the suspenseful misery. “I think that would work just fine for me.”

“Good.” He smiled, lips brushing over your forehead, before he was straightening up. “Can you get the lights and the locks, I’ll go grab you something to wear.”

He stepped back, letting you do as told, as you moved around the room. Checking the door first, you flicked the catch on the door and double-checked it, before beginning to turn off all of the lamps. Stiles was snoring to himself and rolled over, facing the back of the cushions and clutching the blankets up to his chin. Pressing a kiss to the tips of two fingers, you smoothed it over your best friend’s forehead, mentally wishing him a quick recovery from his broken heart, before turning out the final light.

Noah was waiting in the hallway when you arrived, a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and a jumper in his hands, with a ball of socks on top, and he presented them to you, a shy smile on his face.

“I don’t think I’ll need all of that. It’s the summer.”

“Well, you know, I didn’t want you to get cold in the night, or anything. Now you have options.” You took them from him, tucking them under your arm, his hands went into his pockets. You were both lingering, the darkness only illuminating you both from the light on in his room that was spilling out around him. “Okay, well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” Despite the words being spoken, neither of you moved, brown eyes with wide pupils sealed on you, searching you for some kind of reaction, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth opened, more words to come, before his jaw was snapping shut again, and his brows furrowed.

“Goodnight. Again, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” You smiled, humour in your voice again, and he took a minuscule step back from you before pausing again. Taking a step with him, your hand came up, the one not clutching clothes found his shoulder, and you pressed your lips against his in a simple peck. He let out a sound that made your heart flutter, leaning in to return the affection and he kissed you back slowly, before letting you sink to the ground and step away towards Stiles’ room. He watched you go, never moving until you were giving him a final smile, and closing Stiles’ bedroom door.

Resting your back against it once you were inside, you heard his bedroom door close too, and your heart was beating so fast you could feel it all the way to your fingertips. The day had been nothing like what you’d expected, a whirlwind adventure from start to finish, but you didn’t regret a thing.

[apenitentialprayer]

I hit the breaking point as a parent a few years ago. It was the week of my extended family’s annual gathering in August, and we were struggling with assorted crises. My parents were aging; my wife and I were straining under the chaos of young children; my sister was bracing to prepare her preteens for bullying, sex and cyberstalking. Sure enough, one night all the tensions boiled over. At dinner, I noticed my nephew texting under the table. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help myself and asked him to stop. Ka-boom! My sister snapped at me to not discipline her child. My dad pointed out that my girls were the ones balancing spoons on their noses. My mom said none of the grandchildren had manners. Within minutes, everyone had fled to separate corners. Later, my dad called me to his bedside. There was a palpable sense of fear I couldn’t remember hearing before. “Our family’s falling apart,” he said. “No it’s not,” I said instinctively. “It’s stronger than ever.” But lying in bed afterward, I began to wonder: Was he right? What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy? It turns out to be an astonishingly good time to ask that question. The last few years have seen stunning breakthroughs in knowledge about how to make families, along with other groups, work more effectively. Myth-shattering research has reshaped our understanding of dinnertime, discipline and difficult conversations. Trendsetting programs from Silicon Valley and the military have introduced techniques for making teams function better. The only problem: most of that knowledge remains ghettoized in these subcultures, hidden from the parents who need it most. I spent the last few years trying to uncover that information, meeting families, scholars and experts ranging from peace negotiators to online game designers to Warren Buffett’s bankers. After a while, a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative. I first heard this idea from Marshall Duke, a colorful psychologist at Emory University. In the mid-1990s, Dr. Duke was asked to help explore myth and ritual in American families.“There was a lot of research at the time into the dissipation of the family,” he told me at his home in suburban Atlanta. “But we were more interested in what families could do to counteract those forces.” Around that time, Dr. Duke’s wife, Sara, a psychologist who works with children with learning disabilities, noticed something about her students.“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said. Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions. Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth? Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness. “We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said. And then something unexpected happened. Two months later was Sept. 11. As citizens, Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush were horrified like everyone else, but as psychologists, they knew they had been given a rare opportunity: though the families they studied had not been directly affected by the events, all the children had experienced the same national trauma at the same time. The researchers went back and reassessed the children.“Once again,” Dr. Duke said, “the ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient, meaning they could moderate the effects of stress.” Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack? “The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said. Psychologists have found that every family has a unifying narrative, he explained, and those narratives take one of three shapes. First, the ascending family narrative: “Son, when we came to this country, we had nothing. Our family worked. We opened a store. Your grandfather went to high school. Your father went to college. And now you. ...” Second is the descending narrative: “Sweetheart, we used to have it all. Then we lost everything.” “The most healthful narrative,” Dr. Duke continued, “is the third one. It’s called the oscillating family narrative: ‘Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family.’ ” Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves. Leaders in other fields have found similar results. Many groups use what sociologists call sense-making, the building of a narrative that explains what the group is about. Jim Collins, a management expert and author of “Good to Great,” told me that successful human enterprises of any kind, from companies to countries, go out of their way to capture their core identity. In Mr. Collins’s terms, they “preserve core, while stimulating progress.” The same applies to families, he said. Mr. Collins recommended that families create a mission statement similar to the ones companies and other organizations use to identify their core values. The military has also found that teaching recruits about the history of their service increases their camaraderie and ability to bond more closely with their unit.Cmdr. David G. Smith is the chairman of the department of leadership, ethics and law at the Naval Academy and an expert in unit cohesion, the Pentagon’s term for group morale. Until recently, the military taught unit cohesion by “dehumanizing” individuals, Commander Smith said. Think of the bullying drill sergeants in “Full Metal Jacket” or “An Officer and a Gentleman.” But these days the military spends more time building up identity through communal activities. At the Naval Academy, Commander Smith advises graduating seniors to take incoming freshmen (or plebes) on history-building exercises, like going to the cemetery to pay tribute to the first naval aviator or visiting the original B-1 aircraft on display on campus. Dr. Duke recommended that parents pursue similar activities with their children. Any number of occasions work to convey this sense of history: holidays, vacations, big family get-togethers, even a ride to the mall. The hokier the family’s tradition, he said, the more likely it is to be passed down. He mentioned his family’s custom of hiding frozen turkeys and canned pumpkin in the bushes during Thanksgiving so grandchildren would have to “hunt for their supper,” like the Pilgrims. “These traditions become part of your family,” Dr. Duke said. Decades of research have shown that most happy families communicate effectively. But talking doesn’t mean simply “talking through problems,” as important as that is. Talking also means telling a positive story about yourselves. When faced with a challenge, happy families, like happy people, just add a new chapter to their life story that shows them overcoming the hardship. This skill is particularly important for children, whose identity tends to get locked in during adolescence. The bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.

- Bruce Feiler. Emphases added.

[violetlilysunshine]

No More Secrets

Boyfriend Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Summary: Harry finds out about a history between you and Tom, making him doubt himself and your relationship.

WC: 2,486

Warnings: a little bit angsty, kinda sad for a second, swearing, mentions of sex, mostly fluff 

A/N: I like to put the “keep reading” bar on all my posts (not just 18+) because I prefer it that way on mobile, if y’all don’t like it, let me know!!

MASTERLIST

Somehow, Harry had convinced you to go on a camping trip with Tom, Sam, and Harrison. You, not being the outdoorsy type because bugs, agreed and now here you were in the woods trying to set up a tent with Harrison. 

“No, it goes this way, Y/N,” Harrison barked at you in exasperation. 

“Well, that’s not what the picture looks like, Harrison,” you sassed back. 

“Well, I don’t care what the picture looks like!” he argued back before Harry came over to help you out.

“Why don’t you go help Tom unload the kitchen stuff, darling, and I’ll handle this,” he spoke against your ear, gently wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a short kiss to your temple. 

“Yeah, alright,” you answered breathily, slipping out of his grasp and walking back towards the cars.

“Alright, how do we do this?” Harry questioned Harrison.

“Mate, I have no idea, she was the only one reading the directions,” he answered. 

“Then why were you yelling at her!?”

“Because I’m sure my way will work just fine!”

“Well, she knows what she’s doing! She’s always right!”

“Just because she’s your girlfriend, mate, doesn’t mean she’s always right.”

Harry glanced down at the instruction manual laying on the ground at his feet, then glanced back at the tent in his hands. “Well, in this case she was,” he said shoving the manual in Harrison’s face before pulling the poles out of the tent to start over. 

“Ugh,” Harrison groaned, “this is going to take forever!” 

~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, so graciously cooked by Sam, you were gathered around the fire pit, under the stars. You were cuddled in Harry’s lap, sharing a blanket while everyone else was situated in their own chairs; yours had become the snack chair - featuring the s’mores supplies. 

You were all slightly tipsy, having cleared through the single case of beer you’d packed. The boys were arguing about who would have to go into town the next day to get more, not that you cared. You were content being sober, never having been a big drinker.

Harry wasn’t paying much mind to the conversation either. Instead he was focused on your fingers tracing patterns on his thigh, your hair tied up in a bun to avoid a marshmallow-chocolate catastrophe, and the way the firelight lit up your cheeks. 

You glanced down at him sweetly, feeling his eyes lingering on you. You breathed deeply before asking, “what’s up, bub?” 

“Nothing, babe, just looking at you,” he answered.

“Like what you see?” you asked cheekily, chuckling lightly.

“Oh yeah,” he answered quickly, “how did I ever get a girl like you?”

“I don’t know, Holland,” you answered, laughing breathily once more and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Would you two knock it off?” Harrison groaned from across the fire, “no one wants to see that!”

You pulled back and chuckled, slightly embarrassed because you weren’t used to attention like this. You’d hardly spent time with these boys as a group, mainly opting for solo-time with Harry.  

“Oh leave ‘em alone,” Tom answered quickly, “I think it’s cute.” 

“Yeah, only because you didn’t want her,” Harrison grumbled out, much louder than he’d anticipated. 

“What?” Harry piped up quickly. 

“Oh no,” Sam sighed, knowing the full story, and the secret you’d vowed to keep from Harry.

You had met Tom on a red carpet once upon a time, greeting him quickly before being ushered off to the next interview. You didn’t think anything would come of it, but hoped that you’d cross paths again another day. To your delight, you did on your next project. 

You ended up filming a small movie with the Russo Brothers and Tom came to set for a few days to visit them. The two of you “reconnected” and ended up getting on pretty well, hanging out casually while he was around.

The night before he left, the two of you had a night in at your apartment; you had take out together and watched a movie, during which you had gravitated closer together. You were talking a little and felt the smallest spark in the room. The two of you were looking at each other, a pause settled in the conversation. He glanced down at your lips, and you at his. In this moment, you silently agreed that you wanted to try something more. He leaned in and pressed a sweet, short kiss to your lips. You didn’t feel anything and neither did he. He pulled away and let out a breath. The both of you agreed that it didn’t feel like anything; not that it was a bad kiss, but it didn’t set either of your hearts on fire. 

After that you agreed to stay friends, keeping things simple, and nothing more ever came of it. You didn’t know that he’d told any of his friends, as you’d never told anyone yourself. If you were ever asked about your relationship with Tom, you always said something along the lines of, “it’s just not like that.”

A few months later, you and Tom ended up in Atlanta; he was filming Spider-Man and you were working on another project. This time he had Harry with him, who you got to meet. Instantly, something sparked between the two of you. You ended up hanging with Harry a lot on this trip; the two of you found ways to be alone together, even if you’d started the night out as a group with other friends.

Quickly, you and Harry built a relationship; everything with him felt easy, comfortable, harmonious. One night, you were bar hopping with the gang, Harry and you leading the pack, and Harry kept bumping his arm against yours. You got the hint, and let him tangle your fingers together, very much like the Far From Home airport scene with Peter and MJ. Things progressed from there with more time being spent together and quite a few dates. A few weeks later, you slipped up introducing him to one of your friends, calling him your boyfriend when you’d hadn’t had that talk yet; but he was smooth, instantly reaching his hand out saying, “yeah, I’m her boyfriend, nice to meet you,” before winking at you and cooling the blush rising to your cheeks.

Now here you were a year later, and your secret from oh so long ago was about to come out. You wanted to tell him about your kiss with Tom, but didn’t want to hurt him or make him doubtful of your relationship, so you let it slide. Not worrying about it and just letting life happen.

You immediately looked at Tom, knowing what Harrison was referring to, now also knowing that Tom had told people. You weren’t mad at him for this, but obviously everyone knew that Harry didn’t know, and should’ve been keeping their mouths shut.

Harry had always been a little beaten down; he felt he was living in Tom’s shadow and thought that girls wanted Tom more than him. Meeting you was different, you seemed to see him. He never thought that you and Tom might’ve had something before he came along.

Silence passed between you all, no one willing to break the tension except Harry.

“What did you say, Harrison?” 

“Nothing, I didn’t mean anything,” Harrison quickly stuttered out.

“No, you said that Tom didn’t want Y/N. What does that mean?” He questioned, looking at Tom first and then up at you.

You blinked quickly, eyes locked with Tom, urging him to speak. Thankfully he got the message, “Y/N and I sort of kissed once. It was nothing, just a peck.”

“You..... you what?” Harry asked, his face falling as you turned to look at him quickly. You pressed your hands to his cheeks trying to make him listen to your explanation as you began to sputter, “it was nothing,” and, “it didn’t mean anything.”

Harry nudged you off of his lap and stood up before stalking off to your shared tent.

You looked over at Tom, to which he quickly whispered a “sorry,” his face softening at you as well, before you locked eyes with Harrison sternly. 

“What the fuck was that about?” You seethed at him. He knew he messed up and he was genuinely sorry, but right now in this moment there was no fixing it with you so he chose not to say anything at all. His eyes looked remorseful; deep down you knew he was sorry and that he wouldn’t do anything to break up you and Harry, but he had really messed up. 

You turned around and began to walk slowly to the tent, wanting to give Harry a little time to cool off before you tried to explain. When you made it to the entrance, you slowly unzipped it and found him laying on top of the sleeping bag with his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Bubba?” you asked quietly, not wanting to push him too far, but desperately wanting him to speak to you. 

He sighed deeply. You knew he’d heard you and that he was processing, so you sat down next to him quietly, waiting for him to come to you. Tears started to well up in your eyes because you hated hurting him and you didn’t want to lose him. 

He slowly sat up and removed his arm from his face. He turned towards you and looked into your bloodshot eyes; his were red too and he already had streaks of tears down his cheeks. 

“Yes, darling?” He asked; he wanted to hear what you had to say. He didn’t want to lead the conversation yet, hell, he wasn’t sure he was even ready to have it. 

“Bubba, it didn’t mean anything. I promise. It was so long ago,” you breathed out, not really knowing where to start. You’d been so focused on him that you didn’t think about what you were going to say.

“What happened exactly?” he asked lowly, wanting to know the whole story. 

“Well, he visited the Russo Brothers on our set and we hung out and then thought maybe we could be more and kissed once. It didn’t even last a second and it didn’t feel like anything and I don’t want him at all. He doesn’t want me. We agreed that it was nothing and I didn’t even know that Harrison and Sam knew and I’m so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I know how much it hurts to find out this way,” you quickly rambled out. 

“When?” 

“A long time ago. Before Atlanta. Before we met,” you stuttered out.

He looked up at the roof of the tent, breathing deeply. He felt like sloppy seconds. 

“You couldn’t land him, so you came to me?” he spoke into the sky.

“Not at all,” you hurried out as you clambered over to him and straddled his lap, grabbing his cheeks and bringing his face down to meet yours, “I don't want him. There’s nothing between us, we’re just friends, you know that.” 

You paused, giving him time to add something if he wanted. You breathed for a few seconds before continuing, “I know that you feel like you live in his shadow, but trust me when I say that when I saw you, my world shined a little brighter. You’re not in the shadow with me at all, baby,” you whispered to him, both of you now crying heavily.

You peppered little kisses on his chin as you continued, “I looked past Tom and saw you, Harry. It’s always been you,” your voice breaking. 

“But you could have had him, why would you ever want me?” He questioned insecurely.

“Because you’re you, bub. You’re different people. You see me as I am. You appreciate me. You’re an incredible person with the kindest heart. You’re an amazing human being. You care for people so much. You’re an amazing photographer and you’re gong to make an amazing director someday. Hell, you already are with Roses for Lily,” you breathed quickly, squeezing his cheeks a little tighter, trying to make him believe you. “God, Har, I love you so much, it hurts,” you added before thinking.

You pulled away quickly, your tears stopping and eyes widening immediately. His widened as well, neither of you had said that yet.

Your brain kicked into high gear, immediately trying to talk your way out of it, but no words were coming to your mind so you were left stuttering a series of “um,” and “I didn’t mean to say that” and “what I meant was,” before he cut you off.

“I love you, too,” he said simply. 

“Yeah?” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he said before gently grabbing your waist and pulling you forward to connect your lips. 

After separating after a few seconds, you asked him, “does this mean we’re okay?”

“Yeah, love, we’re okay,” he answered, calling you ‘love’ for the first time. Your heart beat a little faster at that before he added, “I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

“I wanted to, babe, but I didn’t want to hurt you, especially when it was nothing.”

“I understand that, darling,” he breathed out, “but no more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” you answered before kissing him again.

He poured his whole heart into the kiss, wanting to show you just how much he loves you. Your tongues tangled for a while before he started to tug at your hips a little harder, trying to grind up into you. You felt him beginning to get hard and pulled back chuckling.

“I am not having sex with your brothers and best friend sitting right there.”

“They’re pretty far away, love,” he laughed, trying to pull you in with his charm, “I don’t think they’ll hear, but if they do, they’ll really know you’re mine,” he added peppering kisses down your neck and sucking on your sweet spot just above your collar bone. 

“Harrrrrrrrry,” you laughed out, pushing him away from your neck and pulling his face up to yours to plant a quick kiss on him, “no.”

“Later?” he asked cheekily, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you.

“Maybe, bubba,” you answer slowly, “if you’re lucky, very late tonight after we’re - and by we’re I mean I’m - sure everyone is asleep we can maybe go have sex in the car where no one will hear us.” 

He plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth before saying, “man I can’t wait for them to go to sleep tonight,” with a laugh and a final kiss to your lips. 

“C’mon tiger,” you say standing up and dragging him with you back to the group. 

“All better?” Tom asks quickly once the two of you came into view. He glances down at your entwined hands before smiling.

“All better,” you assure him settling back into Harry’s lap and pecking him quickly. 

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Tagging @thegirlintheswivelchair because she heard all about this as it was being written (and she brought up the s’mores) xoxo