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chit2luvu · 1 month

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Lovers' Entanglement

Pairings: Dom!Rayne Ames X Reader

A/N: This is my first smut fic, im not sure what Im doing but my brain produced and here I present. I also published this in ao3 but i didnt rlly get any interactions hence why im here pls dont flop :< Tags: mentions of cunnilingus, nipple play, p in v, afab reader, hickeys

It’s an ordinary day for Rayne and Y/N.

Well, not so much since Y/N has been practically bawling her eyes out because he was going to graduate.

In the morning, during the ceremony, and after the ceremony.

She clung onto him at every chance. More so than ever. Her tears staining on the taller boy’s graduation gown. It was quite a sight to see.

“Y/N…” He mumbled, patting her back as she hugged him tight. Rayne did indeed love her, he was sad to part with her but it’s not like their love would disappear with the lower frequency of their visits.

The most embarrassing part was when Principal Wahlberg came over to tease the two.

“My, my if it isn’t the power couple of our school. Congratulations on becoming a full fledged Divine Visionary at the Magic Bureau, Rayne. As for your devastated girlfriend…” He trailed off, cheekily looking at the two.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t greet you properly, it’s just that I’m not ready to not see him everyday anymore Principal Wahlberg…” the younger girl said through tears.

“It’s quite alright… Hahaha, the sweetness of first love in the air... Oh to feel it again at my age. Take care of each other, you two. And congratulations on graduating Max Land, I hope to see your achievements in the future here on out.”

Rayne nodded in approvement.

“Thank you, Principal Wahlberg, I am honored.” Max politely replied, with a small bow.

“This is it. I probably won’t see them again until summer break or whatever.” Y/N sadly thought, her tears still uncontrollably flowing down.

As the principal left, the first years joined the trio to congratulate them. Finn was the first one to suggest a commemorative group photo.

Rayne pulled away from her and pinched her cheeks to try and get some sense into her .“Y/n, we’re going to take pictures now so stop crying okay? For me?” He pleaded, wiping her tears away with his sleeve.

“Eep… Not fair… you… you’re gonna make me cry more,” she sobbed trying her best to keep her emotions in check as she looked up at Rayne pitifully.

Suddenly, he kissed her wet lips to hopefully stop her from crying. And it worked like a charm. Even after the kiss, y/n continued to stare at Rayne with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the aftertaste of their sweet kiss lingering on her lips. The group went silent after witnessing their blatant display of affection.

“Nooooo! Why?! Why do all the good looking guys snag all the girls?!?!” Dot cried out as usual with murderous intent.

“Please refrain from making love in the eyes of an innocent child,” Lance commented as he clutched his necklace.

“Omg!! Y/n!! Ahhhh~~ Mash, did you see that? That could be us!!” Lemon fangirled while aggressively hitting Mash’s back to make her point.

“Uhm…” the muscle head said with disbelief.

“N-Nii–chan?!” Finn screeched as he hid his eyes behind his hands. He had most definitely never seen such a side of his older brother.

“Rayne you daring man!!” Max exclaimed, going in between the couple and hitting their backs to dissipate the tension, finally putting some distance between the two. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s take a picture!”

The students huddled together, performing various poses as they took many pictures.

One heart in the middle formed by Rayne and Y/N while Lemon, Mash and Lance formed one on the left and Dot, Finn and Max formed another on the right.

Then, freestyle poses.

They all put up a thumbs up for one.

And a peace sign for another.

And a heart sign for the last.

“Wow! These came out good!” the brunette said, scanning the photos happily. “Can’t forget to take a trio one too!”

So Rayne, Max and Y/N took another photo.

Then another photo with just Rayne and Max.

“And now, to commemorate the cringiest but slayest power couple of our school, Rayne and Y/N!” Lemon cheered happily for the two, holding out her wand. “3…2…1… Smile!”

Another utter shock.

The photo captured Rayne kissing Y/N on the cheek

“Oi! She said smile, not kiss!” Dot complained, about to jump out into action to stop them from further PDA but Lance kept him in check with his graviole.

“Well, you probably don’t know the feeling of having the love of your life desperately cling onto you just because you guys won’t be seeing each other everyday since you don’t have a girlfriend huh?” Rayne retorted the first year with a fierce look, as he held a blushing Y/N by her waist.

There were just one too many surprises from him. The first years were in absolute disbelief at their senior’s soft attitude towards his girlfriend. The ones who found it hardest to take this in were Finn and Dot.

After the ceremony, the group disbanded, each going back their own way. By tomorrow, most of the graduates would be gone, including Rayne which the Y/N couldn’t handle.

She returned to Rayne’s dorm, helping him pack up. The once minimalist room becomes an empty Adler room. Even his rabbit bedsheet was cleared with the rest of his rabbit related merch.

“Rayne…” Y/N started, her thoughts unclear of this whole situation. Only her fervent emotions screamed, telling her not to let go of her boyfriend at all costs.

“Yes?” He calmly replied, sitting down beside her on the bed.

“I will really really really miss you a lot.”

“I know dear,” he said, sliding his hand on top of hers as he sincerely looked at her with soft eyes.

“Ray-ayneeee” she said, plunging her body on top of Rayne’s onto the bed. “I might start crying again… sorry,” she mumbled as she lifted her head up from his chest.

“Bad girl,” he whispered into her ear while he brushed back the strand of hair. Those two words make her whole body feel all tingly in a weird way. “I don’t want our last memory in a long while to be you waving at me with tears during our send off, like as if you’re sending your husband off to war.” he honestly said, still keeping his hand on her head.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed red from his comment. Rayne had always been the type of boyfriend that cared for his girlfriend by actions, not words. When she had her period, he would always bring chocolates and a heat pack to her dorm and throughout the day, he would check on her wellbeing multiple times. Even on normal days, when they talked during recess and lunch or after school hours, he was thoughtful to bring her something that reminded him of her from time to time. He did what he felt was suitable and even let out his true self. True self as in saying whatever he wanted. Even if it meant the lines he was saying sounded like some confession from a third rate romance novel.

“I guess I won’t cry anymore…” she pouted, her gaze averting away from his as she went back to nuzzling his chest.

There it was again.

That warm fluttery feeling that arises in their hearts at times like these.

But other than wanting to hold each other tight and never letting go, Rayne found himself having a new profound desire. If he were to possibly switch their positions, holding Y/N down on his bed while he whispered sweet nothings into her ears, would she like it? If he were to maybe pull down her collar and mark her neck for everyone to see would it be unfair of him? If only he could say for sure to continue to act on his instincts. After all, it was hard to stay calm with his lover’s breasts pressed up against his chest, her whole body looking as if she was being served on a golden platter ready to be ravished him. He really wanted to devour her right there and then.

“Rayne?” Y/N shyly questioned. She had long noticed his body’s reaction, unsure of what would be the best next course of action for the two.

...

“Sorry, I’ll- I’ll go to the bathroom for a bit.” Rayne enunciated, gently pushing Y/N off to the side and getting up so as not to worsen the awkwardness of the conversation.

But when her soft hand stopped him in his tracks, something inside of him just snapped.

“Y/N, there’s no saying what could happen if you don’t let go of your hand right now.” Rayne spoke as he turned around, his manner of speech getting a little shaky.

“I-I-I know! Well ummm I just thought that since we won’t be seeing each other in a long while… I… I want to help you since you're always by my side…”

He turned, his amber eyes meeting her e/c ones. He hugged her, bringing her face to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Y/N, you know how much I love you right? I promise nothing will change between us. You don’t owe me anything, love. I can wait until you’re ready.”

His words were always so reassuring, always laced with layers of honey, always warm and gentle. But she’s not doing it just to make Rayne happy, if it was with him, Y/N would gladly give her everything, in this case was her body.

“Rayne… I love you too, which is why I want to do it with you, if it’s with you I-”

Before Y/N could even finish her sentence, Rayne was already pinning her down on his bed. He impatiently pushed his lips against hers, their tongues entwining, leaving each other breathless as he pulled away.

“Sorry, I guess I got carried away there.”

He panted, their breaths shaky from the intense kiss. Still, his lips came close to her ear, letting out a husky voice.

“Hey, if you feel uncomfortable at any time, just say my full name. Otherwise, you best believe I’m not stopping until I leave tomorrow. I’m going to make it known to the whole world that you are my woman, no one can take you away from me. You’re mine, only mine. Got that? ”

Her whole face immediately turned into a tomato without any spell. He really was serious about her. He sat up on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening up his tie to reveal his toned body. Sure, Rayne was a magic user but he still kept fit to increase his stamina, which explained his six pack.

“You like it that much? C’mon, feel it– the only one stopping you is yourself.”

He smirked, enjoying that flustered look on his partner who was inevitably his to be taken. He leaned into Y/N, looking up to meet her longing eyes, that anticipation and excitement. It made Rayne so unbelievably happy that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He unbuttoned Y/N’s blouse, pulling her bra up in one swift motion as his large hands got to work; cupping her delicate mounds, licking and sucking on her perky nipples, even twisting and pulling, doing whatever he pleased as an Y/N suffered under his control, her moans spilling throughout the empty room.

“Rayne, that's… that’s embarrassing, why are you o-only focusing there…?”

“Hmm I can’t? It’s just that they look so beautiful, baby”

“Nghh that’s not fair”

“Sounds like you’re asking me to pay attention to some other parts too, huh?”

His hand slowly glided down her bare stomach, making his touch even more tingly on her body. Rayne undid her skirt and tossed it aside. Without sparing any time, he touched her wet clit that was practically soaking through her underwear.

“Amazing, you’re already this soaking wet for me when all I did was play with your nipples” He commented, pulling her panties aside and sliding his hand up and down on her swollen pussy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, he pressed his lips up against her opening, licking her juices, even sucking her clit from time to time before inserting his tongue inside.

“Rayne why–! That place… It’s dirty…” Y/N could only say, before her voice was quickly transformed into pleasure again, the heat of both teens rising. “Hnngh.. Rayne I-I feel weird! A-ah! I think… I think I’m coming…! Mhmmm!” She said, pressing her mouth against her hand to hide her humiliating noises.

The older male pulled back, licking the liquid on his lips clean when he suddenly inserted his two fingers, pressing up against here and there until-

“A-aah!”

Y/n moaned loudly, unable to hide the fact that he had found her soft spot.

“So that’s where you’re weak? Duly noted.” He said, pressing his fingers up against it even more, receiving another moan from y/n. “I want to put it in so bad… y/n please I-” He huffed, his hot breath landing right on the crook of her neck.

“W-wait what about protection?!”

…

None of them had anticipated this moment so they had nothing on them.

“I think Max has some... ” he paused, "I'll be back in a jiffy, love" he muttered, leaving behind a small kiss on her cheek. Before he left, covered Y/N with a blanket and took his robe and left.

Y/n stayed huddled up in the blanket, trying to process what was actually happening. Was it too fast? I mean, they've been dating for like a year and a half so it should be fine right? Plus, it's Rayne. Yes, Rayne Ames. Sudden images of Rayne smiling ever so slightly whenever he met her appeared. That's right, he's the man she fell in love with. They both wanted this, it felt just right with him.

A few minutes later, Rayne had returned with the item in hand. He took off his robe once more and looked at her hungrily. "Are you ready darling?" he smirked, lifting the covers, trailing his rough hands along her leg up to her thighs as he got on top.

It’s not fair how he looks at Y/N with those eyes. How could she possibly push him away in this heat of the moment? She bit her lips in both fear and excitement, her eyes carefully following his every move.

He unbuckled his belt, pulling down his zip to reveal a huge bulge under his boxers. Scary. What was even scarier was when he took off all his undergarments, revealing a monster- no, a huge veiny cock. Y/N immediately yelped in shock, in awe of seeing something so… sinful. Yet, the excitement and pleasure that came along with it was as anticipated.

“Will it even fit…” she nervously questioned, finding it hard to believe that it’s her beloved boyfriend’s dick.

“We’ll make it work. I swear to be gentle, my love. I want us to enjoy this together.”

As soon as he slid on the condom, without any sense of hesitation, all Y/N felt was the warmth lining up her entrance before going all the way inside. That sense of fulfilment shared between the two was unfathomable. Like finally being one complete being, Rayne’s hot member filled her up.

“Your insides are wrapping around me so tightly bunny, how am I supposed to move like this huh? You tell me”

Unable to handle the dirty talk and sudden pet name, she averted her gaze from his in embarrassment. But that wasn’t going to stop him from teasing her further. He cupped her cheeks and made her face his way.

“Tell me how much you want it bunny, because no way we’re going to stop now. Not when I’ve got you right under my thumb.”

“P-please, Rayne, I need you, I need you t-thrusting inside of me… You… Only you can make me feel so incredibly happy and-”

“Well said dear, obedient bunnies get their reward don’t they? Now take it like a good girl for me, Y/N.”

Oh boy, she was in for a ride. The moment Rayne held her hands tenderly while leaning in, she should’ve braced herself. The moment he started moving– those shallow thrusts quickly turned into deep ones.

“Rayne…! Rayne…! Rayne…!”

“Say how good I feel inside you. How am I supposed to know if my baby girl likes it otherwise?”

“Yes…! Mmm! I love it! I love you! R-Rayne… ahhh… kiss please…”

“So needy for daddy hmm~ Don’t worry I’ll spoil you lots”

Those intense thrusts followed by breathless kisses.

Y/N was definitely not going to last until tomorrow.

Night has definitely fallen, but what time was it exactly? Who knows? All the two love birds know is that they’ve fulfilled their wildest desires; and that they’re right where they want to be in life. That feeling of content, reinforced by the way Rayne continues to wrap his arm around Y/N’s bare waist under the bed sheets.

“Was I… too rough?” the concerned male inquired.

“Kind of, my back is sore! Hmph!” she pouted, turning her head away for dramatic effect.

Rayne rubbed her cheeks playfully, trying to console the girl as he entertained her childish behaviour.

“C’mon bunny, don’t be like that~”

…

“Well, do you want to get washed up together? I think we’re both feeling pretty sticky after that endeavour, hmm?”

“Yeah, that does sound like a plan”

Without any warning, Rayne got up and picked Y/N up in one fell swoop, putting her over his shoulder.

“W-wait whaaa?! Put me down!” she demanded, hitting his back with her fists while her legs kicked the air.

“I’m taking responsibility for my actions so stay still my love”

He had forcefully picked her up to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“We already went all the way, there’s no need to be shy showering-”

“It’s not that, it’s just that I still can’t wrap my head around what had just happened.”

“Well, we made love. It’s as simple as that, my beloved y/n,” he said in a matter of fact tone, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently.

Although they were done for the most part, Rayne couldn’t help but stare in awe at his lover. He had the love of his life, y/n, wrapped around his finger. She was right in front of him, ever so vulnerable as the marks he had left on her were clear as day. Her red, puffy nipples were so adorable, he just wanted to do it all over again.

Like as if Y/N read his mind, she panickedly declared, “You can’t anymore, I forbid!”

“Hmph fine fine” he gave in, not wanting to push her too hard.

The warmth of the water seemed to reflect the content of the two. It was as if they were already living together, in their own little humble abode, where the two did as they wished. Y/N drew soap bubble art on his chest, silly, cute doodles. Rayne, as promised, helped clean her up and they both had a nice, long, much needed shower.

“All done,” Rayne said, as he finally finished drying her hair with the towel.

“Thanks, babe,” she smiled cheerily, feeling very satisfied with the extra amount of attention she was getting.

“I’m merely giving you all the love you deserve, bunny” he simply said, taking the ends of her soft hair, kissing it tenderly, receiving another blush from Y/N.

“It’s illegal to be this smooth,” she mumbled, turning her head away from Rayne.

Her comment resulted in Rayne's soft laughter. That's right, this was the special dynamic they had. They were right where they wanted to be.

#rayne ames #mashle x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #x yn #smut #mashle #mashle smut

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dotliko2024 · 6 months

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So why is DotLiko such a suitable pair?

Because they are so cute together, DotLiko feels like a gay couple. Dot begins to gain confidence, and she is the opposite of Liko, she is less feminine, she is more TomBoy with less feminine clothes, and when she is angry she is really badass (when she puts her hair up), she is stronger than Liko, cynical and tough even though she is anti-social and introverted - and it begins change now, eventually she will be more confident than Liko. I'm sure of it. And Liko is gentle, shy and feminine, she is a fangirl for strong or cool girls (like Dot, Anne and Nemona for example), and she is more passive, until she reaches the point where she can let others beat her, of course it has changed a bit, but she is so kind that she is able to let others step on her sadly. She has stress and anxiety attacks as well. These two personalities can be a successful couple! DotoLiko!

Credit for the art: Hulin

#pokemon horizons #anipoke #dotliko #dot #trainer liko #liko #pokemon horizons spoilers #likodot

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harrysmimi · 2 years

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Puppy Face

Synopsis: One where Harry gets his second promised date

Series Masterlist | More of my work

Sunday morning,

YN was going to work her weekend shift today to fill in for one of her colleagues. They were always short staffed on weekends.

Opening up was the only thing she hated about her job. She has to wake up at five-thirty in the morning, go to the cafe by seven and get place ready for it to open up at nine in the morning.

It's been two whole weeks and couple of days over since her date with Harry. They have been texting back and forth non stop since, staying up on video calls at late at night.

Now it was sure the second date was something to happen and she wanted it to be on her. So she picked up her phone the first thing when her alarm went off to text him asking if he was free today.

- Good Morning!

YN didn't know why she was waited five whole minutes staring at her phone to see those three dots appear on her screen. He was offline and it was it was half past five in the morning and as far as she knew, he'd returned just yesterday afternoon from LA. He was there for his movie premiere.

Frustrated about having to wake up early she wanted to throw her phone across the room. But she opted not to, she bought it very recently and it was expensive. She placed her phone carefully on the side table as she went to get ready and leave her house by seven-thirty.

At around ten she went back to the break room to have her breakfast. Harry still hadn't texted her back. Sadly she shoved pancake in her mouth, she had to eat as she couldn't skip her medications.

Why is she feeling so many emotions since she woke up?

But he never takes more than ten minutes to respond. Or when he's busy he'd send in a little apology and a promise to get back as soon as he can. He must be sleeping but he's told her he never sleeps past nine. And it was nearing to afternoon now. It worried her but also made her a teeny bit upset.

Luckily for her the cafe was very busy today, it kept her distracted. She better get her overtime for this or she is going to flip out. Busy house also meant more entitled customers which was annoying her more and more. And Harry is yet to text her back!

"Stop it YN! Calm down!" She mumbled to herself going back to the break room after dealing with a very annoying customer who wasted an hour and half of her time, "you're okay! You're okay!"

"YN? You alright?" Her manager approached her.

"Yeah, I am." She nodded, ,thank you Jennifer, she was just so annoying."

"I know, just take some time to yourself yeah? I'll fill in for you meanwhile." She offered.

"Yeah, I just need five minutes." YN agreed.

This was really beautiful thing about working where YN worked. Everyone was just so respectful of each other. All employees taking upon themselves to make the work environment as humble and warm as possible. Not to mention the manager is a sweetheart!

She was about to head back to work when her phone chimed four times with the usual happy tune. It was half past three now. Way past her lunch time and her day was falling apart like a puff pastry. All it took to put it back together was a text she was waiting for.

H💚

- Hello my darling, good afternoon!

- I am sorry I slept in late

- Just woke up to your text

- Why were you up at 5.30?

He slept till this late? YN wondered. He must have been really tired then. That little pet name warmed her heart so much.

- Hiya!

- No, it's okay!

- I have work today. Had to open today.

- How are you?

H💚

- A little tired from the flight thank you for asking <3

She smiled at the little heart. Feeling proud to be one to introduce him to different emojis. He was confused seeing the emoji made of a mathematical symbol and number.

- Do you have any plans today?

She pressed the send button nervously. She has been thinking about this from last week since he left for his movie promotion, first in New York and then in LA.

H💚

- No. Not yet.

Okay! So now she's gonna have to do it. She sat down to keep herself calm. She typed her questions all three times, rephrasing it to the perfection. Listen, English is not her first language and she hasn't asked anyone on a date.

- Do you want to come over for dinner at mine?

H💚

- What's the occasion? :))

God he's annoying sometimes! What was the occasion? Nothing. There was no occasion. Can a date be an occasion?

- Nothing...

- I was going to make Biryani tonight

That's the truth. She was. Only if he agrees though because it wouldn't be worth the work just for herself.

H💚

- I'd like me some Biryani!

- Especially if you're making it

"Awe!" She found herself cooing at her phone like an complete idiot! Shaking her head she typed her response.

- Okay. Would 8.30 work for you?

She pressed send.

H💚

- Works for me.

- See you tonight then, yeah?

YN is very excited.

- see ya xx

She finally locked her phone and just as she was about to place it back in the safe shelf before get back to work it chimed again. Another text from Harry.

H💚

- Is this a date?

God! He is so cheeky!

- Of course it is! Do you want it to be?

She could imagine him giggling at his phone just like she is right now.

H💚

- oh! Did I sent it?

YN laughed audibly loud earning a weird confused look from her manager, but she smiled and got back to her work. That's what she ended up saying

- No! I am a psychic :)

H💚

- hahahaha cheeky!

- I'll see you tonight love xx

YN locked her phone and finally placed it back in the safe shelf in the break room.

"Jen, can I clock out an hour early today?" She asked.

"Sure, if you want to." The blonde nodded in agreement. YN nodded and walked to the till to continue her work.

......................................................................

YN went back home all giddy and happy. After a short shower - she sure smelled like coffee after she accidentally drenched herself with espresso today and ruined one of her white T-shirt at the sleeves - she got to cooking.

It took her longer than she expected. Taking the risk to call her annoying grandma for a short recap of the recipe she taught her years ago. So add to the pile bad things happening to her today, she cut herself whilst making some salad. She was barely done by eight-thirty and Harry was already knocking on the door.

She looked around and found the mess of amazing box half open on her coffee table which arrived just after she reached home. It looked messy but she went to get the door as it would be impolite to make him stand and wait outside. She also forgot to feed McFish.

"Hey you," Harry beamed when she opened the door.

"Hey you," she stepped aside he can get in and she can shut the door. He tackled her with a bear warm embrace at the door wrapping his arms around her middle. Serotonin clouded her brain feeling him smooshing his face in her hair but she wasted no time in returning the affectionate gesture draping her own arms around his shoulders.

"I missed you." He mumbled not willing to let go of her. She wouldn't lie she did too. She missed seeing his beaming face as he walked into the cafe every morning in person. Hearing his raspy deep voice every morning which readied her to face those annoying customers who walked through the threshold everyday without a fail.

As a fan she really liked seeing him everyday. But she still treated him like every other of her customers assuming it must be pretty frustrating for him being given special treatment just solely based on his social status. She just gree to be good friends with him, like few other people who visited who also went to the same college as hers but were her juniors or seniors. She just especially looked forward to seeing him everyday. And she indeed missed that, a little too much for her liking.

"I missed you too." She cooed and reluctantly pulled away from his arms remembering there is food on the stove. "Come in please, I need to check on the food."

"Mhmm." He nodded and took off his shoes placing them neatly on the side. He walked in.

His second time here and he could still smell the same incense he came across last time but he couldn't quite put his mind at what it was, sandal wood and roses he could smell. No doubt that's what gives her home a zen feel making it much more cosy. He could also smell the fresh spices and fragrant rice in the air. He went to greet His Highness, McFish.

"Can I feed him?" He asked, after a good couple minutes of silence. He was sat on the same chair as before looking at her fish.

"Hmm?" YN looked up at him from the kitchen, the small kitchen Island separated kitchen from the living room.

"Your fish," he said, "can I feed him?"

"Oh sure, I forgot to do that today." She nodded.

"How much do you give him always?" He picked up the blue jar of food which was neatly kept next to the aquarium along with a green and red one.

Even fishes eat different flavours of food? He found that amusing.

"Just half a pinch, or less." She shared, "it's easy to over feed them."

"Mhmm." He acknowledged her information as he proceeded to lift up the lid of the aquarium seeing the fish already swim up to the top. He dropped in a few palettes of his in the water being careful of the water filter.

"You can turn off the filter and oxygen until he eats." YN said, she was still checking up on the food he found.

"Okay." He nodded and turned the switch off. It made sense, if the fish isn't fast enough all his food could be sucked in by the water filter. Lastly he closed the lid back up.

YN was finally done. "Food is done, do you want to eat now?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Lemme help you." He walked over to her.

"No it's fine." She protested.

"No, I want to!" He's stubborn, amd picked up the bowl of veggies chopped up in nice perfect cubes, drenched in something white - it must be some kind of cream, mayo? Yogurt? Curd? He didn't know but it looked delicious and he was a little hungry to be honest. "I'll take these." He took the places and the bowl of salad out to the table. YN brought in another bowl with Biryani she made, and water.

"Oh, you need a spoon? YN asked realising she haven't got any utensils apart from the serving spoon.

"Hey, what happened to your hand?" He asked distracted seeing a tissue paper wrapped around her finger as a make shift band-aid.

"I cut myself, it's fine." She shared. "I don't have any band-aid so I just wrapped this around my finger."

"You could have been careful!" He scolded her rightfully being mad. Grabbing her hand he made her sit on the spare chair pulling his own next to hers, he fetched for his wallet in his back pocket and took out a band-aid from it. "It's such a deep wound YN!" He glanced at her with his brows furrowed after he took off the tissue paper around her finger, to replace it with an actual band-aid.

He felt so bad that she hurt herself cooking for him and her. Though he was very well aware that she cooks at home everytime, accidents happens for him to feel a little a mad and upset about it.

"It doesn't happen often with me, I was talking to Brielle, my friend on the phone and it just... Happened." She shrugged, staring at him as he seemed much more concentrated on tending to her teeny tiny wound which didn't even hurt that much. She found it amusing how he carried spare Band-aids around with him in his wallet.

She couldn't fathom how pretty he is! Even more prettier in person inside and out, come on he's tending to her teeny tiny wound like it's a very big deal!

She looked at him how he blew soft air on her finger as he carefully wrapped the band-aid around ther tip where she'd cut herself. She wondered if he was wearing a tinted lip balm that his lips so pink and plush and soft. Would this it be too early to ask if she could kiss him?

They've been on Just one date apart of this one!

It shouldn't...

She was pulled out of her thoughts when he finally spoke: "Be careful next time, okay?" He looked at her giving her all his attention as she looked at him with a puppy face. He swore he was just a hair away from kissing that pout off her mouth. "What were you saying before?"

"Oh, I was asking if you need spoon." She repeated.

"We were going to eat with our hands?" He was confused.

"Traditionally, yes, but I can get you-"

"No, it's okay." He interrupted her politely, wanting to indulge into her world in a way, "I can try eating with my hand!"

"Okay, then go wash your hands." She chuckled at his excitement, she still got him a spoon if he changes his mind.

"How was you day, love?" He enquired as he took his seat again moving his chair back in front of her across the table.

"I don't know honestly." She shrugged, "can't explain. But this one lady just bickered with me for like an hour and half. God, I was so pissed!" She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry that happened," he cooed, "this is very delicious by the way!"

"Oh, thank you!" YN felt flattered by his compliment. She wasn't very great at cooking, but she made decent food. "Is it too spicy for you?" She smiled at him watching him eat with his hands, she never imagined to see him like that but he warmed her heart in a cool way.

"Tiny bit," he agreed. "What?"

"Nothing," she shook her head breathing out a subtle laugh, "you just look cute and all."

"Hey, I'm trying!" He whined.

"I did not say you aren't!" She defended. Shaking his head Harry got back to eating.

"Do you work tomorrow?" He asked.

"Yeah, got another early shift." She shared, "why?"

"I, ehm, got tickets to this, ehm museum, they have an art exhibition. One of my friend's gonna have her collection displayed there." He stuttered, but proceeded with a suggestion, "thought you'd maybe wanna go with me?"

"Oh," was her reaction. YN isn't really into art but she would be willing to go with him. "You sure about that?"

"Mhmm. Why wouldn't I?"

"No, I am sorry, I didn't meant it in a wrong way." She rushed, "I mean it is going to be pretty crowded there surely. I meant, would you really want me to go with you?"

God! She could feel her heart thumping in her ears. Yes, she is rightfully anxious. The museum is surely going to crowded, and he have been sighted by his fans there even when he's alone many times. It made her anxious. The internet made her anxious even though she haven't even agreed on going with him yet.

"It's okay." He assured her, "I understand, haven't really talked about it with you yet and it's fine with me if you don't want to go. Maybe next time? But it's okay."

"Harry, I do want to go, I'm just a bit anxious." She explained, "I'm sorry if I made you upset."

"No love, it's alright with me." He reassured her, "really it is, okay? You don't have to worry about it all, there are no cameras allowed there at the exhibition. I know it is still going to be inevitable to avoid them, but I promise you that you won't have to worry about it."

"Okay," she sounded, "would you be fine with that, I mean if there are any lurking cameras around there?"

"Of course I would be," he agreed in a heartbeat, "I took you out two weeks ago, didn't I?"

"Mhmm."

"This a bit sad honestly, to have even have this conversation." He started, "but this really just comes with my choice career. I've learned it's only going to be obvious if we make it obvious, and I don't want that. Not this soon at least."

YN felt that eerie feeling in her stomach you get when you know you're in some kind of trouble. That eerie bad and anxious feeling of making someone upset or sad even unintentionally. The feeling of nothing but cold air filling in your abdominal cavity.

He smiled before he continued, dimples denting into both his cheeks, "I like you a lot, if it's not been obvious until now." He searched her face watching her bite the inside of her cheeks nervously. Being caught, she just proceeded to stuff her face with food to fight the awkwardness. "I've had a crush on you since the say I saw you. Your little stutters really caught my eyes. Obviously you know I was but I never once felt differently treated by you, and I really liked that." That's the longest YN has heard him speak without his ehm's and uhh's stutters.

"I just really want to be selfish and cherish that for as long as I can to myself." He confessed, "I also don't mind if I'm seen with you or whatever. Honestly couldn't give two fucks about what people have to say anymore."

YN chuckled at the closing statement of his little vulnerable speech, "I like you too, Harry, really. You know I've been a fan of your music, so thank you for trusting me enough to let me a part of your life."

"I should be thank you," he corrected her, "for respecting my privacy anddd making this amazing food!" He finally took another bite of his food after his speech.

"You're very welcome Harry, just ring me up if you want to eat anything else. Anytime" YN said, "my friends call me up everytime anyway." She found it was better to subtly move the conversation to something else. It was going to be way too overwhelming for her, she had felt way too many emotions today to add more of her perspective on this. She could say that any other time, maybe tomorrow even, but not in that moment.

"Yeah? That's because you make really good food, love," he agreed with her friends there. "What time do you get off tomorrow?"

"I have early shift so..." she reminded and calculated her shift hours in her head for a moment, "I should be done by afternoon."

"So we can go after lunch then, yeah?" He suggested, "it won't be as crowded then, I guess."

"Works for me." She agreed. "Did I forget something?" She looked at the table confused.

"I don't know..." Harry shrugged.

"Oh, oh, the dessert!" She exclaimed, "how can I forget that?" She was already halfway in the kitchen licking her fingers, she pulled something out of the fridge and something off the country and managed to balance two Tupperware containers and two small bowls with a clean serving spoon to the table. "I made this last night before I went to and this is just store bought."

"What's that?" Harry was pretty curious.

"This is Rasgulla - or Rasgulle for plural - and Gulabjamun which I made." She pointed each dessert out, proudly. "Finally, got it right this time! These are too difficult to make for some reason for me."

"Oh, what's it made of?"

"Same ingredients surprisingly, paneer which is cottage cheese and a tiny bit of flour, one of it has got some dry fruits in it."

"Sounds amazing!" He mused.

......................................................................

After dinner and dessert (which Harry loved so much!), Harry helped YN with the dishes even though she told him not to. Turning on the TV and her pet fish's water filter on they both sat on the sofa watching the movie he picked. Harry Potter he chose.

"I've never seen these." YN confessed as she sat down in the corner placing a water bottle on the coffee table.

"You've never watched Harry Potter before?" He looked at her as if she killed his pet hamster.

"No..." She hesitated, "why?"

"How have you never watched Harry Potter?" He looked hurt, or acting to be hurt.

"I just never found it interesting enough." She admitted, "my elder brother sister are obsessed though, and so are all of my younger siblings." Yeah, she's always been the odd one out in her family. As the middle child that fit ber very well.

"You still want to watch it?" He asked, letting go of the teasing.

"Yeah, it's fine I can sit through the first one." She shrugged.

"No we're watching something else," he handed the remote, "pick something."

"Okay," she took it and played Spiderman: Far From Home. "Are you going to be in the next Eternals?" She spoke about halfway through the movie, now sat comfy with a throw blanket, her legs draped over Harry's with his hands warming up ber knee through the thick fabric of sweats, she leaned back with her elbow perched up on a pillow, her cheek smooshed against her knuckles.

"Yeah, we start filming next year." He shared, "though I'm not allowed to share this."

"It's okay, you're secrets are safe with me." She smiled, he smiled back watching TV.

God, he is just so pretty to look at!

She could die, he was that pretty. Honestly she wouldn't hesitate to obsess over him but she's way too much of a little coward to do so. Plus she thinks she would come out as weird especially considering he knows that she's been his fan since his solo career started. Maybe when they're comfortable enough with each other? Maybe a in a few weeks? Or months if they last? Or maybe when he finally says he wants her to be his girlfriend? Just too many maybes! Urgh!

He was made first of his mold she decided, even his side profile looked gorgeous. His lashes curling up to his brow bone, the straight slant of his pointed nose which she love how it dances as he talks. For the second time this night she found herself wanting so badly to kiss him. Even if on his dimpled cheek.

Harry felt her staring at him obviously, "love, you're staring."

"What? No, I'm not!" She was snapped out of her little admiring session, lying from the tip of tongue. She felt heat rush under her skin as be back to look at the TV watching Zendaya fight off the drones.

"I don't mind if you were." Harry teased her, and even though she wasn't looking at him anymore she could feel the smirk on his face through his voice. He laughed watching a red tint take over her complextion. "You look so pretty blushing!"

"Oh stop it!" She huffed whining making him laugh even more, she scooted to the corner pulling her knees close to her chest. "You're annoying!" Catching smirking at her short glance at him.

"Am I?" He tipped his head to side after he, "is it annoying that I find you pretty or me catching you staring at me, hm?" Her lips pressed in a thin line as she tried not to smile too much.

"You're annoying, in whole." She said, trying to get out of her embarrassment.

"Too late, sweetheart, we're already do dates in." He reminded her, "with a third one planned out. Can't back off now."

Fuck that hit her like bang!

She wasn't planning of backing off anytime soon. Not until he decides to otherwise. That melted her heart into a puddle.

"I wasn't planning to." She answered. He liked how she wasn't trying to hold back her smile. Searching her face he leaned in even closer.

"Yeah?" Harry sounded quite content with her answer, he reached for her hand carefully resting on her lap. "Gonna stay for as long as you feel fit?" His other hand cradled her face slipping down, stopped on her neck.

"Mhmm." She nodded, feeling heebie-jeebie inside as he brought hand upto his mouth to place a delicate kiss on her knuckles, feeling the pad of his thumb rub softly against her jaw.

God! Her heart is going to burst in her chest cavity!

"Is it okay if we kiss?" She found herself finally speaking up instead of humming.

"Absolutely it is, my love!" His voice somehow went deeper as he looked her dead in her eyes. Watching her lean in that much closer he pulled her in with his hand slipping further on the her neck.

There it was, his mouth pressed onto her her bottom lip tucked into his two. The little touch felt so soft and intimate when it all lasted for a second. He didn't pull away, she could still feel his nose skimming against her cheek. She took her shot and pressed her mouth on his again, this one lingering longer than the first one. Even more special as it dawned on her in a beautiful way he is the first person she ever kissed!

Harry felt her small hand warm on his cheek, making him take it a bit further but he kept to himself and followed her lead. When she broke away he pulled her in a bear hug.

"God, I missed you all week!" He confessed as if it weren't the first thing he said to her today.

"I missed to too," she reciprocated, she leaned into his warmth especially when he was being so welcoming of her. Harry was extra cuddly with his hoodie on and sweats and the fluffy throw blanket they shared.

Next thing YN knew annoying loud noise of her alarm went off, still feeling warm like it was some fever dream of hers. But her alarm went off suddenly as she felt a warm hand running up and down her back.

"Hey love, your alarm just went off." Deep raspy voice spoke to her snapping her out of her sleep. It was really Harry. YN found herself basically lied on top of him with the throw over both of them, the TV switched off. "Good morning!"

"Good morning," she spoke pulling herself unwillingly away from him. She was definitely way too comfortable in the setting. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"It's alright," he assured her, "did you had a good sleep." He watched her stretch like a tired little kitten as she yawned.

"Yeah, a little too well." She admitted making him chuckle, "did you?"

"Mhmm! Of course I did." He confessed to. "You're going to work this early?"

"No, I leave by seven," she shook her head trying to shake off sleep from her eyes.

"Yeah? I'll drop you off on my home, you can go get ready."

"Mhmm thank you." She smiled. God she didn't wanted to drive today! "You can sleep in more meanwhile if you want."

YN had shut the door behind her to her bathroom. Oh god, she really did let someone stay a night over at her place!?

She couldn't believe herself there. YN's always been protective of her personal space. Especially since was kid. Growing up she had many questions to answer to, where was she going? Why aas she going? Where was she if she was late? What was she doing if she was late? Does she have guy friends? When she closed her bedroom door for more than hour what was she doing inside? Did she directly went to school and came straight back home? Did she need money? Why does she need money when she was provided everything at home? And what not!

It wasn't just her, even her elder sister had to answer all the questions. She's sure her little sister has to answer those too now.

One thing YN's sure about is that her friends are going to be go haywire when they find out. About Harry. About this. Hell she hasn't even allowed them to stay over for night since she moved there.

How and why did she fell asleep on him? Especially after they kissed!

But none the less thinking about all this she found herself all ready for the day. She'd chosen same brown pants she wore on the first date and white button down shirt with a black jumper on top. She'll have to work in this today.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He turned around to look at her, he was answering some texts.

"I left you a new toothbrush and a towel in, in the bathroom if you wanted to, ehm, get freshen up." She stuttered.

"Mhmm thank you, love." He smiled. God how casual is he going to be about this?

She went to make herself tea and him a coffee, she made herself a quick breakfast wrap to take along whilst waiting for Harry. She couldn't believe last night happened!

She so badly wanted to tell her friends like they share their things with her. But she opted not to, whilst Alec can digest any and all secrets, Brielle finds it difficult though YN would argue she's the most respectful person she's ever met. She will have to tell them eventually or they're going to be upset, even though she isn't entitled to share of her personal life stuff but those are her friends. They've been with her since last fifteen years!

"Hey, are you ready?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, almost! Here's your coffee." She handed him a reusable thermos cup.

"Oh thank you," he smiled walking upto her to give her a warm hug, "you're still up for today?"

"Yeah," she nodded leaning into him for a moment, he placed a kiss on her head.

"I'll pick you up by 12?" He suggested earning another nod from her, "you alright love?"

"Yeah," she nodded assuring him, "yeah, I am."

"You've got the whole puppy face going on, What's wrong?" He pointed out, booping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger. He noticed she'd packed her breakfast and two small containers with the desserts they had last night.

"I'll tell you on the way?" She suggested.

"Mhmm," he nodded.

They both got into his car. He drove for a bit in silence halfway through, giving her the time she needs to speak.

"I haven't told my friends about us yet." She confessed.

"Why so, darling?" He asked, sounding a bit upset and taken back. Instantly there were questions flooding through his mind.

"One of my friends is like... I don't know how to say it in English." She chuckled to lighten up the mood her little confess got him into, "she just can't digest secrets, basically she loves to gossip. Whilst I don't mind her talking about us, even on accident to anyone I don't know if you'll be fine with that. I know you sort to talked about similar... thing with me last night. But both of my friends would go haywire if they find out from somewhere else. So I'm just thinking about how I should tell then, or if I should even tell them."

"There is no pressure love, I don't mind if she talks about us to anyone." He shrugged, "you can tell 'em if you don't mind."

"You're fine with that?" She asked, "I mean, I know her but you know she talks alot and stuff like that but she won't say a word on purpose and-"

"YN, calm down please." He interrupted her, "I don't care if anyone knows, really. We don't have to hide, it's like we're committing a huge crime. We like each other, right?" He glanced at her for an answer and mumbled a little yes! so he continued, "there's nothing to worry about."

"Okay." She squeaked, "that really put me at ease."

"And we're here," he stopped his car on the side of the road. "I'm glad about that, sweetheart."

She hummed, "please take a nap you still look very tired Harry." She pointed out, seeing bags under his eyes and sleep puffed face.

"I'll go to bed early tonight, don't worry." Harry assured her, "now would you gimme a kiss before you go?" He was already leaning over the center console closer to her waiting, without a word uttered she leaned in to press her mouth on his into a long indulging kiss just like last night, her hand rested on his cheek. Enough to hold him off until he sees her again in the afternoon. "Take care okay?"

"I will." She unbuckled her seat belt and got out, "my colleague's here." She saw her colleague opening the door to the cafe already, "nap Harry, okay?"

"Aye!" He chuckled at her little scolding. Waving she jogged her way inside.

......................................................................

"It's very pretty in here!" YN exclaimed quietly looking around the museum. Yeah, she's a huge history geek but this never peeked her interest to spend her time at a historical museum.

"But not more than you." He gave his cheeky little remark. "The exhibition is on the other side, bht we can walk around here if you want."

"Yeah, I want that." She agreed. They walked around looking at the busts made of marbles, a few paintings and national souvenirs displayed around. She shared the little facts she knows about little pieces herr and there with Harry before they decided to see his friend's art collection.

"Did you tell your friends?" Harry enquired. He held her her close with arm wrapped around her waist. He carried her bag for her just so he can have her close to him as they walked around.

"Yeah, I did. I saw both of them today." YN shared, "Brielle said she won't share this with anyone unless we want that. And Alec is going to be here, his sister has her own art collection displayed here today."

"Oh, we should check that out too!"

They walked around and met Harry's friend who was super nice. And also super talented. Their paintings displayed were very beautiful, though YN didn't understood the meaning behind each one, she's not that artistic she decided. But the pieces of art work were easy on eyes and calming in a way she has never been before, she'd buy one herself if they weren't started from the price of her flat alone. She'll stick to buying cheap affiliated ones from Amazon until she can afford a real one.

"I don't see Alec around." She shared with Harry, "oh there he is."

"Hello YN!" Alec greeted YN with a hug.

"Hiya!" YN exclaimed hugging him back. "Harry this is one of my best friend, Alec. And Alec you know Harry."

"Oh yes, Hello." Alec greeted Harry with a hug too. "I didn't know my best friend could be this sneaky about literally dating her celebrity crush."

Harry chuckled, "nice meet you, Alec."

"Oh and please come take a look at my sister's art work too." The blonde suggested and walked Harry and YN to the other side of the room. Least tk say she was baffled by Hadleigh's art display. They talked for a long time there.

Harry was sure approached by a couple of his fans whom he talked to, but they couldn't take pictures as it was allowed in the exhibition due to copyright issues from the artists present there. He was so grateful for that in the moment, subtly but he won't admit it because he loves meeting his fans but he also likes his privacy.

"Is Brielle going to come?" YN asked.

"She's stuck at work, you know her boss is arsehole." Alec rolled his eyes.

"Oh okay." YN nodded.

......................................................................

YN wanted to look around the museum for a little longer so of course Harry was going to agree. He's just going to look at her and listen to her random facts. Though it was way past the lunch time.

"Oh-uh!" She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Harry followed her gaze to find a little family looking at displays just two aisles away in the Egyptian section.

"That's my sister and her family." YN shared.

"Oh," was his initial reaction, "do you want to go talk to her?"

"I, uh, it's fine." YN shrugged.

"I don't want to assume but do you not talk to her?" He wondered.

"It's not that..." She trailed off, "it's complicated. It's not her it's my parents that I don't like to talk to, if she sees me on a date they're gonna know for sure. If she doesn't tell them her husband for sure will."

"Why would you not want them to know?"

"I- Harry please don't take it in a wrong way! I'll tell share it with you little by little, okay? I don't have the greatest relationship with my parents. I have- I can't talk about it all in one go, it's very hard for me. It's, it's difficult for me open up like you did." She shared stuttering through her talk, a glassy sheen took over her eyes. "There is a reason why I live alone."

"Hey, I'm sorry —"

"I need five minutes." She excused herself interrupting him walking towards the bathrooms, taking her bag from him.

YN honestly doesn't know how to navigate through stuff like this. All this time she's solely focused on herself and herself only. Not bothering to go out on dates and stuff until upto recently before walked into her work place for the first time. Now that she had the time she wanted to open herself to more experiences, but no one stayed more than a date or two. She went on dates with five different people four of them wanted just a one night stand and other one ghosted her after the second date.

Harry stayed. Giving her that tiny hope back. They became good friends first which was a cherry on top for her. Now all she wanted to do was not make him uncomfortable in any way, shape or form just because she doesn't trust people who are in her life much. Her parents would make her life even harder if they found out she's seeing someone, especially when she's living alone.

She didn't trusted her own sister whom she loves so much. Her sister knows who Harry is, and from the sixteen years she spent with her family and relatives she knows how these kinds of news spread faster than wild fires.

She felt so confused as to where to start unpacking all of this to him without making it feel like she was dumping it all on him at once. Sure she's not even trying a bit to hide anything from him, she just needs time.

YN couldn't help but feel she's making him upset and mad about her anxiousness. Not wanting to let her mind wonder and talk to her therapist about it (he's the only person who knew about her seeing Harry everyday since he first walked in) instead she blinked pushing her tears back.

It was just too hard for her to see her sister there after a good few years.

"You're okay!" She mumbled to herself washing her hands in the sink, "shut the fuck up! You're okay, you're okay! It's fine. Talk to him!" She was bringing herself together there, with that she headed back out to go to look for Harry.

"C'mon," is the first thing he said when he saw her and walked her out to go to his car all the while holding onto her hand in a gentle grip. "I'm really sorry, love." He started once he got in the driver's seat next to her. "I just didn't wanted to assume that you're not on good terms with your family. Whilst I want to know more about you, I know it's none of my business to intrude. So it's completely fine if you never want to talk about it."

"You clearly looked upset about it." She pointed out, "I wasn't meaning to hiding all of this I just don't want to deal with my family because I know they're going to make a huge fuss about it!"

"It did made me upset but I didn't know." He admitted, "I am really sorry about that lovie," and he carefully reached for her hand in her lap, "we don't have to tell anyone, okay? I'm not gonna question anything or get upset like I did— that was very naïve of me—, we can just go about our days without thinking about it."

"Okay." She nodded. "I'm sorry too. It wasn't you that I ran to bathroom."

"That's okay love." He assured her.

"Hmm."

"Let's go to Hyde park and have a little picnic, hm?" He suggested already pulling out of the basement car park of the museum. "Would you mind placing an online order at Subway or something?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You want sandwiches?"

YN found a little restaurant which served a variety of sandwiches so she placed a order a couple of different ones, and a tall hot chocolate for herself — Harry said he didn't need a drink, was fine with just water — for them to take away on thier way to the impromptu picnic.

"Think Gemma left her picnic blanket in me car last time," Harry opened the boot of his car, "there it is!" He announced taking out a brown and beige gingham blanket.

They both walked further in towards the park, finding a place quiet enough. Harry layed out the blanket on the grass before they both sat down. Winter month, the sun was getting ready set at just half past four. There was awkward silence taking over between them now as they ate away their very late lunch.

"You want a bite?" YN offered.

"Yeah," he agreed taking a bjte from her sandwich. Finally something to talk about! "Mmm do you want to switch?"

"No!" She got defensive, "just one bite."

"Meanie," he squinted his eyes at her but failed ending up chuckling. He picked up her hot chocolate to take a sip.

"Hey!" She whined. "Be polite gimme a bite of your sandwich now!"

"Here," without any other word he offered her his sandwich. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

"I don't do anything on Christmas... Work I guess?" She said as if questioning how she spends her holidays.

"You're working on Christmas?" He couldn't believe her, "no way you're not!"

"But it's fun!" She whined, "and I kind of need to get some over time in," smiling sheepishly she took a bite of her food.

"Why so?"

"It's embarrassing, moving—"

"Now I definitely I wanna know," he pressed, teasing her.

"Oh god no," she sighed, "the car I bought. It was like an impulsive purchase due to some family drama." He laughed explaining, "some people were talking shit about my job."

"And that is so slay!" He exclaimed, "happy for you bestie!"

"Thank you bestie!"

"No but seriously, YN I need you to take the day off for me, please?" Harry looked at her with a puppy face. "Please?"

"Okay, Christmas is a month away. I'll see what I can do." YN agreed.

"Okay." He leaned in a pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

They both talked about literally nothing to Harry's new music. They scrolled through some memes on her Instagram. Least to say Harry wasn't surprised seeing his own memes on her explore page, that just showed how insanely funny his fans are to him.

"Wait? What was that?" He saw a video on her home which she swiftly scrolled by.

"No, it's embarrassing!" She whined when he took the device from her hand and scrolled back to the video. It was her friend, Alec's account he saw, he'd posted a few throw back pictures and videos. There was a video of YN, Alec and who he assumed must be Brielle singing. The ginger boy with a guitar and behind a keyboard as they sang Gorgeous by Taylor Swift.

"Huh? And you said you can't sing?" He scoffed confusedly.

"I literally can't."

"Look there is another one!"

"Oh my god, Harry!" YN tackled him to get her phone back knowing very well he's just trying to annoy her now. And he did just that going through her own account and checking her posts for the rest of their time outside.

N O T E:

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theroundbartable · 8 months

Note

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "theroundbartable "?

Haha^^

10 fics will be hard for me to do, since I'm very bad with names and I don't really.... Save any. I read, like, comment and move on.

Let's start with my name first. That's easier. Theroundbartable was a joke I made a couple years ago and I had it as the headline of my blog for a while when I was still Changelink23.

I'm not sure where it came from anymore... But I think it was kind of the basis for "connecting the dots". Which is a fanfiction I wrote that is about Gwaine and the knights making up stories about Merthur. It was their game to guess what Merlin was up to and gossip about Arthur's pining. And collectively, they'd make up the entire series on accident.

My idea then was that the knights gather in a bar, got really drunk and basically play DnD with the BBC Merlin storyline. So, the knights of the round table, but at a bar. And maybe that table was round. And maybe it was their regular seat and they called it the round bar table.

After Changelink outdid its purpose and I got really deep into the Merlin concepts, I decided my name should fit the theme. And what else am I doing here with you guys, other than exchange ideas about Merlin while half sounding on drugs? It's my idea of being part of this fandom, I think. All of us sitting at the round bar table and having fun with the series together.

Now, fanfics:

1. Dirty laundry by Gybslythe (Voltron)

It's just... It has sentimental value for me. The author put down the story because they were bullied, sadly. I just felt at home in that fanfiction because the places seemed so familiar to me and I caught the feeling. I could compare it with me visitung my godmother as a child and the described places were just the best moments of my entire childhood. Also the writing style is SOOO good! I mimicked it for a mock exam and that was my best English Exam during my A-levels.

2. Sadly I don't know the actual name of this one :/

Funnily enough, it was a Gravity falls fanfiction... And a Bill cipher x reader one at that, which is WILD that I ever read it. The Reader thing really repulses me. Lol. The thing is, it was very non intimate and the world building blew my mind. It started off with Bill realizing his existence and step by step, he'd give his knowledge to the one human that interested him and therefore lost his power. The reader, however, grew with the knowledge and in the end, wakes up as the entity Bill had been. Just, suddenly knowing she existed, no memories of ever being human. It was so well done and pulled at my philosophical brain, I built "Wired" off of it.

3. Not a story but a series...

Anything by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle. This is the series that made my Merlin writings what they are. I read these and they brought me SOOO much joy! I used to write really depressive stuff. Still do. But after reading these, I wanted to bring that joy, too. I really dug into my humor after that and it really changed how I see stories and even myself and became the foundation of what I focus on in dialogues.

4. From the grave to the cradle by larcluce

I admit it, I'm a bit biased for this one because I'm so proud of larluce for posting their first story after wanting ME to write it. As if I could have done it justice. It's so good for a first work and yeah... I'm very proud of them.

5. My soul has your claim, my soul is in flames

(Voltron) i'm currently reading that due to my online friend's suggestion and it's just... Maybe it's because I'm currently obsessed with it but it really is just that good. It's everything I want from a voltron fanfic :) obliviousness, pining, misunderstandings, and reassurance and Lance's death reveal. Like... Yeah. I'm a sucker for this story.

...

There are probably a lot more on my list but I'm REALLY bad at remembering stuff XD I remember when I stumble on them. I just listed the ones that are at the top of my head. Sorry it's not a full ten :/ I actually write more than I read too. When I start reading, my mind gets ideas and then I have to write them down and I somehow rarely finish fics over 100k words.

BuT wRiTinG tHEm iS fInE.

By the way, I haven't read "like the cycle of the year" yet. It's been on my list for a while but I haven't gotten around to it. I know it's a fandom favorite. But maybe that's what's putting me off. It'll probably make me feel inadequate after reading it and comparing it to my stuff and then I'll feel bad about my writing. Which would by both oddly motivating and off putting, lol.

As a little bonus, I'll just say what I'm currently working on/planning to work on for now.

1. second chances (Drarry)

I've been writing on that one for over a year. Which is the longest I ever spend on a fic and also the longest fic I've ever worked on in total and also the one I most edited. I'm writing it for my girlfriend. I feel like I'm getting closer to the end and I will post it once it's finished.

Jkr sucks, by the way. She'd probably hate the story which satisfies me greatly.

It's a time travel au, obviously, in which Drarry was a muggle therapist after the war. The magical world doesn't respond well to the idea of therapy but that's not Draco's concern even though it should be. He just wants to atone for his sins. Being thrown back in time gives him that chance... But it also awakens deep traumatic issues while he struggles to help the good side and betray his parents and friends in the meantime. It's very analytical of his character and he suffers a lot and it's a lot of fun to do.

2. Karak'nirir- the goddess of creation (Voltron)

A Lance centric Voltron fanfic in which he is gifted the power of a goddess. I'm trying to get back into world building and well... I just really love Lance XD

3. The clockroom (BBC Merlin)

... It's on hiatus... Again. It's so hard to find the time to work on it. But I will... At some point. Probably. I hate unfinished business.

4. ... I'll probably focus on the Merthur marriage concept next. In which Arthur tries to raise Merlin's status and has Merlin learn magic in order to defeat Emrys. Cause then Merlin would be druid king and they can get married XD i want to apply some stuff I'm currently learning through "my soul has your claim" and maybe that will change how I write in the long run, too.

5. .... I should be working on a book that's publishable. Maybe feedback from professional book sellers will help me improve my work also.

By the way... Having 4 wips kills my brain. I hate it. One fic at a time. That's how I work best. It's too much for me. I'm dying. I have no ideas how other people do it.

Anyway.

Thank you for the question, anon ^^ I hope I answered it well enough XD

#bbc merlin #voltron #faq #ask #answer #anon

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herbsnspices · 1 year

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Draco x Slytherin OC✨🐍

AN ~ not sure where this will go but I thought I’d put it out there, in my world Voldy does exist but he’s not coming back anytime soon. As for Death eaters, they are dying out along with blood supremacy and all that crap. Draco is still a Brat so prepare for angst but it should be worth it? Anyway enjoy <3

Part 1?

Sable, 16, daughter to Wysteria and Thorn Grimsbane, they make a small but high ranking family within the wizarding world. Thorn is the head of investigations within the ministry with Wysteria as his partner, they are truly a power couple. Sable had been studying abroad at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic up until the summer of her 16th birthday, when her parents demanded her return before enrolling her into Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Ignoring sable's plea's they never explained their actions, simply stating it was for the best and that they would handle everything. it broke her heart saying goodbye to her friends at Beauxbatons, especially to her boyfriend, Cyran, who she'd only been able to kiss once. feeling as if her world had come to an end she was anything but excited while shopping for supplies with her mother, even the idea of fresh books and stationary wasn't enough to cheer her up.

Unfortunately it didn't take long for the dreaded day to arrive, with all her trunks packed Sable stood on the platform with a frown. holding back her tears as she hugged her parents goodbye sable made her way onto the train, it was tight as she walked along looking for an empty compartment, releasing a sigh of relief when she came across one and slipped inside.

getting comfy with her copy of Hogwarts: A History sable prepared herself for what was to come, or at least tried to.

Draco's pov

it was the same old routine of cold goodbyes and empty hellos as I stepped onto the train, my parents not staying any longer then needed. I bumped into Blaise first, he greeted me with his usual smirk and a slap on the back.

"Draco, its good to see you. we've got a compartment just up ahead if you'd care to join? kindly grace us with your presence" he teased while rolling his eyes.

"I suppose I could" I replied with smirk, the two of us chuckling together as I followed him to the compartment. thankfully the corridor was empty of students as we walked down, the rooms on either side of us however were full of them. glancing into them as I passed one caught my eye, slowing me to a stop, this compartment empty compared to the rest.

she was pale, with smooth skin dotted with freckles. Her Black hair looked like silk as it draped around her in loose curls, her eyes a bright green as they concentrated on the book before her. she was dressed in smart attire and had an air of maturity about her as she sat with a straight back and her legs crossed, she looked like a Lady.

"Draco?"

looking up Blaise was stood a couple of compartments ahead, the door open and waiting. Risking one last glance I was surprised to see a pair of emeralds gazing back at me, a question clear within them. looking away I headed into the compartment and took a seat between the window and Theo, Blaise was opposite me with pansy next to him. the journey was usually long and tedious but it seemed to fly by as I gazed out the window, thoughts of the girl filling my mind.

We lived in confusing times, never knowing if Voldemort would return or not, but if I knew anything for certain, it was that i’d have her before the year was up.

Sable's pov

I had no idea who the blonde was but he was certainly easy on the eyes with his sharp features and lean but muscular build, the all black suit he wore was just the cherry on top. sadly he was gone as quick as he appeared but I'm sure I'll be seeing more of him, he looked to be about my age if not the year above.

finally taking a break from reading and checking my watch I noticed it wouldn't be long till we arrived at Hogwarts and I still needed to change, cursing myself I grabbed my small carry on case and headed out the compartment and to the toilet.

the uniform was plain black awaiting my house colours but the shirt, pleated skirt and robes were certainly different to the silk dress I was used to. Choosing to keep on my tights and long socks I dressed myself in the uniform, overall it wasn't so bad. After packing away my clothes and switching my shoes I quickly touched up my hair and make-up before swiftly exiting the cramped room, walking straight into someone's chest.

the strong scent of musk and cherry wafted over me as I looked up, two swirling pools of chocolate looking down at me.

"well hello there" his voice was deep and smooth, like velvet.

"hello" my reply was meek and breathy, my surprise evident.

"hmm no house colours, you've got to be the biggest first year I've ever seen" he spoke with a smirk and a teasing tone, he seemed like the mischievous type. glancing at his uniform the dark green suited him nicely, the snake emblem resting on his chest.

"sadly no, I'm transferring into sixth year. You're a Slytherin right?" I replied, nodding at his uniform.

"indeed I am, best house to be in. I'm also going into sixth year so ill be seeing more of you misss?" he asked while giving me a once over, a look of approval on his face.

"Sable" I said, my eyebrow quirking at his obvious staring.

"Im Blaise, its been a pleasure Sable but you should head back to your compartment, we'll be arriving soon. ill be seeing you" he greeted while placing a small kiss on the back of my hand, his goodbye ominous as he left with a wink.

heading back into my compartment I got my belongings together and watched anxiously as we came to a stop, students flooding off the train and towards carriages. merging into the flow I stepped off and over to a large friendly looking man holding a sign with my name scribbled on it.

"hello there, ye must be sable?" he asked with a large grin

"hello, yes" I replied with a smile, nodding my head.

"follow me, you'll ride and be sorted along with the first years" nodding along I climbed into the boat with him, watching in awe as we made our way over the water and towards the beautiful castle.

it felt strange standing amongst the first years, towering above them as they looked at me with curiosity. Entering the great hall was daunting due to the hundreds of eyes watching my every move, whispers erupting as I walked towards the front of the room. the headmaster Dumbledore explained that i would be joining the sixth year before calling me up.

"Sable Grimsbane"

holding my head high like I was taught I stepped up and sat on the stool, Professor McGonagall placing the sorting hat on my head.

"hmm a Grimsbane, we haven't had one of you in a while. You value wisdom over valour like Ravenclaw, and yet you're fearlessness befits a Gryffindor. you're cunning like a Slytherin but care like a Hufflepuff, where to put you...suppose it better be SLYTHERIN"

Taglist?

#fanfic #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #part 1 #romance #draco smut #draco x oc #oc

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sleepless-stories · 1 year

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Who's Your Daddy~~

Summary: You X Harry Styles X Pedro Pascal You are an actor, and much more. Pedro is your hotty daddy costar in a new up and coming movie. And Harry Styles is your past Ex

Warnings: Mischaracterization of everyone, vague smut, blood play (Mild), incest implied?, varying descriptions of Harry Styles eye color

DISCLAIMER: I fucking hate this and it's all a joke.... please help it's the first thing I've written in almost a year

You are a Hollywood actor, model, millionaire, and trapeze artist. Recently you broke up with your long but short time boyfriend, Harry Styles. Together you were a power couple for two to three weeks. Sadly you broke up over beliefs on animal sentience. It was harrowing, so, so sad.

Anyway! This week you finally got a new gig, in an upcoming blockbuster, box office shattering, but box office bombing movie! And you’ve managed to get the lead role! Today’s the day you’re going into the studio for script reading.

You get up bright and early, at 3am. A red glow filling your apartment with warmth and love, glancing over you see your small but life sized night light of Pedro Pascal’s beautiful, daddy material, face. Slowly but sensually you get up from your bed, violently tossing your covers to the floor. Turning on your overhead light, brightness fills your room. Your room isn’t large, but it isn’t small either. Your bed sits up against a corner, bright colored sheets that fall somewhere on the color spectrum cover your bed. Your walls, a lovely, pale yet bright color, covered in posters of your absolute Idol. Your idol over course, Pedro Pascal. Some ripped remains of old posters are also still tacked up against your walls… posters of your previous love, though he shouldn’t be named after what he did to you. You open your closet up grabbing the perfect outfit for the day, a heavy, light but dark colored cropped sweater, booty shorts with neon glittery letters saying “baby” on the ass, and thigh high but knee length boots. Putting it on you feel ready to slay the day away. You do your hair and your minimal face routine before eating a small but large and filling meal, first of many meals of the day. You sit down on your comfy but rather hard couch, pulling out your ambiguously branded phone. Unlocking it you quickly open your favorite but least liked app, Tinder™, ready to swipe your minutes away mostly to the left because nobody meets your high but low maintenance standards.

Minutes then hours pass by, in a breeze that’s going a mild 5 mph or 8 kmh. Soon, but after a while it finally turned 12pm. Putting your phone on its unplugged charger, you carefully grab your coat and start preparing for your script reading at 11am. Leaving now you’d probably be early by about forty two minutes.

You head out the door of your one story, single person, not rented, high rise apartment complex. Getting into your luxury but not exactly economy class Lotus Evija. Driving a moderate speed equal to the speed limit, but much under. You arrive at the perfect time of 10:09 am. Many people were arriving, though almost nobody was at the studio yet.

Getting out of your car you head into the studio building, finding your way to the conference room the table reading would be performed in. The moment you open up the glass, clearly see through the door, that is too clear to be able to fully see through, you notice him. Pedro Pascal sits in, but not on, one of the chairs at the long conference table… and he is looking as, good… no! great! Perfect! As ever. His looks are so effortless but highly maintained as ever. Delicately you trip into the room falling onto your face immediately. A hand grabs your shoulder, gently helping pull you up from the floor, and there… standing before you… Is someone you’ve never seen before, they were… ok looking? In their stupid floral, plaid, striped, polka dotted, rainbow colored, outfit. They were certainly no Pedro Pascal.

You stand gently but very obviously pushing the person away, “um thanks, but keep your…” you glance over them again before frowning, “hands off of me… I’m trying to stay looking good.”

“Well… It’s fine, you’re looking rather beautiful/handsome.”

“Awe thank you, you’re looking like a solid three.”

“Wow, thank you for that, I was feeling like a two this morning but with your compliment I’m feeling more like a four.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” You smile sweetly patting the other’s head before pulling out a chair and sitting down. You just so happened to pick the chair right next to Pedro’s out of all 10 of the open chairs.

Pedro turns to you smiling perfectly, “Good afternoon, you must be y/n.”

“I am! How-how did you know my name?”

“Oh, well you’re wearing a name tag.”

“OH.” You glance down at your shirt remembering the name tag you had been given before walking into the room before. “Yes… It’s amazing to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ll be acting as your love interest in the movie.”

“My l-love interest?” You quickly grab for the script that sits before you, flipping through the pages of it memorizing every line already thanks to your photographic memory. “There’s some… pretty um in-intimate scenes in this script,” you stutter blushing brightly.

“There do seem to be.” Pedro nodded, opening up the script, “Maybe we’ll have to meet after this to have extra practice with the scripts.”

“Take me away daddy…” You mumble before realizing what you just said. “Shit! I mean sure! Want…Want to maybe d-do it at your place?” You ask blushing rather brightly at the proposition.

Pedro nods, attractively, “Of course. I’ll give you my address. We may take a while to do it, so make sure to bring a bag.”

“I’ll remember. Want to maybe, um, possibly meet up at a restaurant downtown first? We could get dinner and talk before heading to your place to start going over the script and practicing.”

“We’ll go to my favorite restaurant, Hoobee’s House.” Pedro suggested, attractively.

“Oooo that’s so exotic! I’ve never heard of that place.” You agree immediately, if it was his favorite place you just had to go.

“Yeah it’s like if Applebee’s, Hooters, and Waffle House had a threesome.” “Oooo, we should definitely go.”

Pedro nodded and handed you his unlocked phone to have your number put in. Naturally you give him your number, 605–477–3018.

After giving him your number most of the other few, about 30 people walk into the room taking their seats. The script reading begins, you naturally give the best performance anyone had ever heard in their lives, fucking amateurs.

-Timeskip-

The script reading had gone well, it took a few hours but it was all worth it being able to sit so close to Daddy Pascal for hours. You finally got home by the time it was 5 Post Meridiem, quickly you pack a bag of your sexiest outfits and head out to the restaurant. Tossing your bag into the back seat of your Toyota Corolla, you drive over to downtown to see your love.

You park on the sidewalk, blocking a door to a local orphanage, firehouse, combo. You get out of the exotic supercar and start to walk down the street.

“Y/N!”

You hear your name, but don’t turn, because of how grossly famous you are. It’s probably paparazzi and fans like always.

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, but it’s not startling, it feels almost familiar… You turn facing the other. The world feels like it slows down for a moment as you look into his eyes. It’s like you’re the only two people in the world for a few moments.

You lean a bit closer to him, whispering in a quiet but sensual tone, “Animals aren’t fucking sentient.”

“I’m Harry Styles,” your famous ex responds.

You stand there, with Harry’s hand on your forearm, looking into his beautiful eyes that remind you of wet dirt after a hurricane.

“I… what are you doing here? Don’t you live in Australia?”

“I just missed you, I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Please, I’m sorry! I’ll agree animals have no souls, for you love.”

“Y/N?” another voice calls out, this voice very distinctly… Daddy.

You turn to see… Pedro Pascal. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be late.”

“No it’s fine… you’re an hour early, I’m the one who was late.”

“Who is this?” Harry asks. He’s staring at Pedro with his glowing orbs that remind you of the clouds on a sunny afternoon day during a horrible tornado. He looks almost entranced… he looks at Pedro with more love than he’s ever stared at you with.

“Well, I’m Pedro Pascal.”

“Daddy,” you cough out, under your breath.

“I’m Harry Styles.”

Harry lets go of your arm stepping closer to Pedro, holding out his hand. “It’s enchanting to meet you.”

The two men shake hands, standing a bit closer than necessary, staring into each other's eyes as their hands are firmly grasped together. Harry’s eyes looking almost like crushed starlight before a supernova, Pedro’s eyes looking… attractive.

“Y/N, would you be ok if we all skipped dinner. We could eat back at my place.” Pedro suggested.

Well you had heard that Pedro was a decent chef, no articles had ever mentioned him burning down a kitchen before. “Sure! I’d love that!” you agree without hesitation.

Everyone went back down the street, getting into your Ford Focus. Pedro gave directions as you drove to his mansion.

Pedro’s house was ginormous, though rather modest and quaint. The place was covered in gold and marble.

As soon as the car was parked Pedro pulled you and Harry into the house immediately, shutting the door behind you both once inside.

Suddenly without even realizing it all three of you were in Pedro’s bed, a small Alaskan king.

Clothes were gone.

You laid there beneath the two, looking at them sexually. You look up seeing Harry’s voluptuous disks of burning camembert cubes inside of a blackhole. Then there’s Pedro Pascal, “daddy,” you accidentally let slip out as you stare at his large sexy deep nose pores.

“Oh what’s that you called me?” Pedro asks you, his voice full of attraction.

You are about to respond when you feel something very… distinct enter you. Only a moan leaves you. Your eyes shut focusing on the feeling, though moments after when you open them all you see is Harry and Daddy Pascal making out, erotically.

As you watch them the pleasure continues to build up, something wet starts dripping down… your face.

Harry’s hand gently glides under your nose, his hand pulls away covered in your blood. He stares down at you with his beautiful pools of oceanic eyes during a volcanic explosion. Slowly he starts licking your blood off of his hand, eyes closed in pleasure as he cleans the blood of your nose off of his delicate fingers.

You gasp watching, your nose gushing a bit more. Though soon more than that gushes.

The three of you soon lay there on the bed, cuddled up close together under the covers. Daddy Pascal holding you close and gently running his hand through your hair.

“Thank you, daddy… and Harry.” you whisper.

Though suddenly you start to hear a familiar song, backstreet boys… Your mother is calling.

The Caller ID reads: Kris Jenner.

Pedro happens to see it as he reaches for your phone to hand it to you, and he suddenly freezes. “Kris?”

“Oh, well that’s my mom,” you explain reaching for the phone out of his hand.

“How old are you?”

“I’m…”

Pedro nods, releasing your phone, “I think I’m… your father.”

“Oh… well I guess you really are a daddy then.”

“I guess I certainly am.” Pedro smirks, kissing you carnally before he leans over you, kissing Harry too in a passionate manner. “I also suppose this was wonderful practice for our movie.”

#x reader #pedro pascal #harry styles #crack fic #real person fiction #reader insert #not a serious post #horrible descriptions of eyes

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checkers-dance · 1 year

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hello oomf... i have returned here, sadly... because i had a really weird dream last night, and kihyun was in it. i actually have been dreaming a lot about mx lately? this is like the third dream they're in this week jfnvjfvn. but this one is especially bizarre??? and also it had MLP IN IT???? and i actually can't remember a majority of it, most of this is just going to be me trying my best to put the plot together, which was a little bit hard. but anyway here's what i think happened.

so apparently in this dream i had a brother and one day he went missing?? and i was like "why aren't we searching for my brother..." but no one wanted to talk about it and i was like, really disturbed by it. i think a lot of the dream revolved around me trying to navigate this issue, and i think i had a sister (not my real life sister, some made up character) and i was trying to convice her to run away with me so we could search for our brother, but she was hesitant. so here's where kihyun comes in, for some reason he was in my house??? like, he was just vibing??? and it wasn't weird??? and i have no idea if in the dream i actually knew who he was, but i remember thinking "he's not related to me, so maybe he can give us an outside perspective." so me and my sister dragged the poor guy into a room and we like traumadumped to him, we gave him the whole backstory, and we asked for his opinion. i don't remember what he said, but the gist of it was that he thought it was a good idea to go look for him since no one else seemed to want to. kihyun leaves, and now my sister is convince to run away with me. but this is where the mlp comes in. the dream changes and now it was the same story but acted out by mlp characters??? so instead of me, it was rarity, and instead of my sister it was maud (one of pinkie pie's sisters). and yes they were related. but the plot ends with them climbing down the house from a window and then running away together to find their brother (who might have become a sister at this point in the dream? unsure).

really incoherent dream, but here's my theory for why it happened. first of all, like i said i've just been dreaming a lot abt mx lately, idk why my brain chose kihyun of all people, but the mx part of the story is honestly the least strange part njfnvjfv. the interesting thing is really the rest of it, and i THINK i know why my brain conjured up such a weird plot. so a couple of days ago, i was watching this video summarizing an old mlp creepypasta that was very popular back in the day, and i became really interested in it. a lot goes on in that story, but the part that matters is that pinkie pie has this sister literally called minkie pie and their parents hate her so much that they LOCK HER UP IN THEIR DUNGEON. it's so silly, and i've been thinking so much about pinkie's long lost emo sister, i was literally thinking about it right before i fell asleep. so i think that's why the plot involved the whole long lost sibling thing, and i think that's also why it suddenly became mlp in the end, and ALSO why my brain chose maud as a character specifically (she is pinkie's canonical emo sister after all).

BUT ANYWAY THAT WAS THE DREAM + THE THEORY. not very mx related, but still one for the history books. SORRY THAT THIS ASK CAME OUT SO LONG... IT WAS A LOT.

HELP GJSKFKSKFKSKF we should keep a score of which mx members appear in ur dreams bc I think this is the first time kihyun is there. Anyway I think it would be rlly funny if ur long lost brother from the dream was changkyun bc I'm p sure u had another dream at some point where u dreamed changkyun was ur brother. So I think I've connected the dots here. Also the mlp creepypasta itself sounds v changkyun-core 😭😭 (changkyun is minkie pie and jooheon is pinkie pie). Maybe I should have a tag for ur dreams so we can keep track

#asks

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airsoftaction · 4 months

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moabunnie · 2 years

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TxT When you’re on your period pt 2. You leave a blood stain on their bed/couch❤️

Warnings: period / blood

I got this as a request! Thank you! Hope you enjoy!

Soobin

You woke up and soobin wasn’t in the room

You got up and realized you’d started your period in your sleep

You run to the bathroom and take care of things, but when you come back you realize there’s a spot of bright red on soobin’s sheets

You go find soobin and shyly tell him what happened

He doesn’t even care at first. His first question is “are you feeling okay baby?”🥺

He helps you take off the sheets and puts them In the washer

Also puts new sheets on his bed

He doesn’t let you do anything because he knows/thinks you must be in pain since your period started

You’re so embarrassed you think he’s mad you start crying

But ofc he’s going to comfort you immediately

“Baby it’s ok I’m not mad if you think I am”

Reassures you all day that it happens and he’s not upset

Yeonjun

You two were watching a movie together. You knew you were on your period but you didn’t realize your pad leaked until you stood up

You look down and see a small bloody circle on the couch

“Yeonjun… I’m so sorry”

He looks over and it takes him a second to realize what it is

He stands up quickly and goes to find some cleaning supplies and a towel

You kinda stand there awkwardly while he’s trying to clean it up

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to”

He looks up at you kinda confused because he doesn’t know why you’re apologizing

“Hey it’s okay, y/n. You don’t have to worry about it” and will kiss your hand

Once he’s done and the stain is pretty much gone, he asks you if you want him to run you a bath and order dinner for you <3

Beomgyu

You decided to lay down because you were having cramps, just playing on your phone

Beomgyu laid down with you and fell asleep

You got up to use the restroom, but when you do, you see that your side of the bed was almost completely covered where your butt was

You immediately wake Beomgyu up crying telling him you’re sorry and asking him where his towels are

Poor Beomgyu is still super sleepy and thought you hurt yourself when he looked over and saw how much blood was on the bed

“Are you ok?? Oh my god what happened?”

“Nothing happened it was just my period”

He calms down lmao and he goes and changes the sheets and whatnot

“Y/N come here and change into some of my clothes”

You do as your told, and also change your underwear and pad

“Are you feeling okay? That was a lot baby” he asks you. He just wanted to make sure you felt ok after what he just saw 🥺

Taehyun

You fell asleep while sitting on the couch with tae

You felt a little “bloop” and immediately bolted up

Sadly, there was a lil stain on the couch, and also on tae’s pants

“Babe oh my god I’m so sorry”

He looks down and is like “oh”

He is so chill he just goes and changes his pants, and then removes the stain with whatever cleaning supplies he could find

“I’m sorry I got it on you I know you’re probably so grossed out”

He just hugs you and kisses your forehead and tells you it’s ok and it’s not gross

“Babe what? It’s not gross that’s just bodies. Don’t feel bad”

He may be tough on the outside, but this sweetheart is nearly heartbroken thinking that you feel so bad about it

HueningKai

You started your period while you and Kai were play fighting on his bed (JUST PLAY FIGHTING DONT THINK ANYTHING DIRTY)

He flipped you and suddenly spotted a small red dot on the bed

He immediately stopped everything because he thought he hurt you

“Baby let me see your face?? Did I hurt you at all? Where are you bleeding from? Or is it me bleeding-”

After a couple seconds of thinking, you figured out you just started your period lol

Kai tells you to go change your clothes while he changes his bed sheets

You come back and he’s all done cleaning up

“I’m so sorry Kai I didn’t mean to”

He throws a plush at your face

“I thought I hurt you so I’m just glad it wasn’t me that did it. Do you wanna keep playing or no?”

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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years

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∘◦ ♪ ◦∘ Timothée Chalamet - Concerto ∘◦ ♪ ◦∘

A/N - I wrote and posted this almost a year ago on my Wattpad. My writing has evolved a lot since then, but I’m still proud of this piece, and hope you enjoy it. I do not know Tim, nor do I claim to in any way. This is a work of fiction and entirely my own.

Warnings - smut. Detailed (but protected and consensual) sex, slight BDSM, overstimulation. Cursing. Legal alcohol consumption and smoking. Also 10k words of sickening fluff though, even the smut is fluffy.

Summary - At a classical music concert, the last person you expect to meet is a young man as charming and suave as Timothée. And the last thing you expected is for him to invite you back to his flat. Turns out music really is food for the soul, and other things...

IT’S A FRIDAY EVENING IN NEW YORK CITY. The sun is setting behind the towering silhouettes of undulating buildings all across the city, the moon casting shadows all around au contraire to the luminescence of building lights, beaming all around as well as the street lamps, bringing colour and light to people’s faces in the dark.

You’re standing on the pavement outside Symphony Space Concert Hall on the Upper West Side, people watching. Nothing more or less conspicuous, just observing everyone flooding into the hall, though none of them seem to be under 50 years of age. After checking the time, you take your phone out of the pocket attached to your delicate silk jumpsuit you’re wearing for the night, the one reserved for classy parties and sophisticated concerts only (though very handy). You open the email holding your ticket for the evening, a Poulenc appreciation concert, and you show it to the bouncer who grants you entry to the auditorium.

The room looks incredible. Photos of Francis Poulenc, as well as some old parchment sheets of his music spread out delicately over the usually bare walls. The lights create a perfect ambience in the hall for what's sure to be an incredible evening. The red velvet seats are half full, dotted with people at least twice your age, except from one seat near the front where you can see merely a defined jaw and brown curls. On the stage stands two glossy black grand pianos, slotted beside one another with plush velvet stools and their lids propped up, allowing one to see the inner workings of such wonderful instruments. Behind the pianos are seats enough for an entire orchestra, creating a crescent moon shape. A couple of the seats already have instruments atop them, aching for their owners to play beautiful melodies with them. You make your way down to where your seat is, familiar with the layout of the auditorium. You’re on the right hand side of the centre stalls, third row back, but as you arrive, there’s a boy you saw earlier, not much older than yourself.

“Hi, do you mind if I squeeze past?” You ask him, watching his head jolt up from the programme to reveal a mop of beautiful dark brown curls framing his chiselled face, piercing green eyes with flecks of hazel when the light changed direction. You recognise him, an actor, you simply can’t place him.

His look of incredulity melts into a smile. “Sure.” He says, moving his legs so that you can squeeze past and take your reserved seat on his left. He turns to face you, smiling. He’s wearing a crisp navy suit with a pale blue shirt and a matching tie. He looks well presented, and by his nervous and lopsided smile, you guess that he’s rather nervous to be at the concert alone too. “Timothée.” He tells you, holding his hand out.

You return his gesture, smiling right back at him, and tell him your name. “You here alone?” You ask him, turning in your seat to get a better view. He nods.

“Thought I’d be the only under fifty here.” He laughs, “I’m 24 by the way, but I shan’t ask your name since you're a lady.” You can't help but laugh at this, just a little giggle at how sweet he is, but your interaction is cut short as the lights turn down in the auditorium but shine brighter on the stage, and a full orchestra enters the stage, accompanied by their instruments, two pianists and a conductor. Murmurs in the hall settle down to a faint hum while the musicians tune to the sound of the oboe, and then begin to play.

The music is mesmerising, starting with orchestral pieces with faint piano accompaniment, then just a nocturne for piano, split between the two lead pianists. You could listen to it all night, but an interval has to come. As the lights slowly turn back up, you see an infantile smile on Timothée’s face, as though he’s just watched the most excellent thing in the world.

“Come on,” you say to him, smiling sadly while you tap his knee, “let’s get a drink.”

He reluctantly stands up to follow you out of the auditorium and to the small bar area. You order two margarita’s without consulting him, but he seems grateful as you sit beside each other on a high table, people watching once again.

“What's your job then?” He asks you, making small talk.

“I’m a piano major at Juilliard, teaching piano on the side though.” You respond, and he seems really taken aback. His jaw falls a little slack while his eyes bulge a tad.

“Wow, you must be excellent!” You blush a little at his words, elegantly taking a sip from your drink while he eyes you carefully. You feel awkward under his gaze, though flattered nonetheless. He’s gorgeous, and he’s complimenting you and accepting drinks from you, what a night.

“What about you?” You inquire. He's an actor, you know that, but asking means that you may be able to get some more context and maybe it’ll click where you’ve seen him before. He clears his throat, and you can see some older people walking by who pull faces, judging the pair of you, but you brush them off.

“I’m an actor, mainly small films though.” He says, remaining vague. You don’t push much more, realising that he probably likes not being fawned all over for once, so you simply ask of the favourite names he’s had the honour of working alongside, which must be an uncommonly asked question because a light flickers behind his eyes.

“Selena Gomez, Steve Carell, Armie Hammer, Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Robert Pattinson, Maia Mitchell…” He begins to list, but only when he mentions Maia does it click. You aren't huge into films, but you have seen him in a film with Maia Mitchell and Maika Monroe a few years ago.

“Hot summer nights, right? You were in that?” His cheeks turn a magnificent crimson and he bows his head as though embarrassed. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘not my best performance’, but you disagree. “I think you were wonderful, and did you mention Armie Hammer?” He nods again, seeming a little brighter. You take another sip from your drink, and he follows suit, watching your poised movements.

“Call Me By Your Name.” You nod in recognition, you remember watching the film when it first came out and loving the music from it.

“You’re excellent you know, at piano I mean, and the intimate scenes aren’t half bad either, you make them better.” You say with a teasing smirk on your painted lips, making Timothée’s eyes widen again. You chuckle and grasp his hand, dragging him into the auditorium for the second half.

The second half is a whole concerto, Poulenc’s Concerto For Two Pianos And Orchestra. Ten minutes in, Timothée’s hand finds your thigh and seems very comfortable, so comfortable in fact that you don't dare move it. As the concerto flows further on, his hand slides further up your clothed leg and squeezes your upper thigh a little You tense under his touch, infatuation and lust filling every cell and exiting through your pores, just waiting for more passion to fill your body and make you drunk on the feeling.

When finally the concert ends, both of you stand to applaud the musicians for a solid few minutes, and you could swear you see a tear leaving Timothée’s mysterious eyes and rolling down his heavenly made, painfully defined cheekbones. While you clap, you surreptitiously edge closer together, millimetre by millimetre until you’re hip to hip with elbows nudging. Your head comes up to his chin, making you feel a little small, but you’ll feel even smaller once your heels come off. Once the majority of the audience have filed out, you grasp his hand and pull him through the crowds where you stand on the corner of the pavement, only metres from the venue. You’re reluctant to loosen your grip on his slim hand, as he is with yours.

“Cigarette?” He offers, holding a half full box out to you. You half smile and shake your head in refusal.

“I don’t mind if you do though.” You say, meeting his gaze. “I love the taste of smoke when I kiss someone.” You add in a whisper, leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He goes rigid, making you smirk to yourself. This is going to be a good night.

He lights his cigarette and takes slow drag, only looking away to blow the smoke in an opposite direction to you. How respectful, you think, as your stomach fills with butterflies and bubbles with anticipation. He puts it out on top of a bin and throws it away without littering, and just that small and helpful gesture makes you crave his touch, having his fingers trace your sweaty skin and making your body tingle, your back arch with desire and pleasure.

“Wanna get a drink?” You ask, pointing to a nice bar across the road. You’re desperate to sleep with him, but not without pleasantries first. He, however, shakes his head and intricately entwines his fingers with yours.

“I’ll do you one better than a drink.” His smirk sets off a different kind of longing in you, forcing your body to follow him wherever he takes you.

As you walk, he starts conversation, but you’re so breathless from the desperation speed walking that your answers are brief. He asks you why you attended the concert, only to remember that you’re a music student and piano teacher; so in turn, you ask him the same question.

“When I was doing Call Me By Your Name, I had to learn the piano, and while I was learning classical pieces, I kind of just fell in love with classical piano music, I don’t know.”

His nervousness is sweet, making him appear far more humble than anyone of his stature would usually be.

You get to his building after a twenty minute dash in heels, and he pulls you flush against him while entering through the revolving doors, allowing you to lay your weight on him for a moment while you gather your breath. You feel his heartbeat thudding and racing against his ribs, reverberating against your own chest. You turn around to face him and place your hand on his chest.

“Breathe.” You say to him, allowing him to release a long held breathy chuckle. You leave the doors, both laughing, and fervently press the buttons to wait upon a lift. “So,” You then continue, breaking the silence where only your breaths were heard. “Favourite piano piece from the Call Me By Your Name soundtrack?”

“Hallelujah Junction!” You both answer at the same time, just as the lift doors open. You fall into the lift in a fit of giggles, clinging onto each other. You find yourself with your back pressed against the cold metal handle bar in the elevator with Timothée’s face inches away from your own. Your breath mingles together. As soon as he presses the button to his floor, he nudges his nose with your own.

“God, you're so beautiful.” he says seconds before his mouth is pressed hotly against your own, kissing you with an unrivalled passion. Your lips mould and move together like it’s second nature. His one hand holds your waist while both of yours grip his face, feeling a slight stubble.

The lift dings and he drags you out, unlocking his apartment door and leading you inside.

“Welcome to Casa del Timmy.” he says while hugging you from behind, allowing you to get a full view.

His apartment is stunning. Sleek, yet also vintage. Your eyes follow across the perimeter through a door to the left, where he has an office area containing a sleek white desk with a mac and a stack of papers and pens, next to it is a vintage white bookcase stacked as high as possible with novels of all shapes and sizes, and even an indie style rug underneath a colourful modern dining set..

The door next to the office is a kitchen, white countertops with wooden cupboards and a beautiful view of the city out of the window. To the right is a set of glass doors that open onto a small balcony where you can see the whole city, even Manhattan and Brooklyn depending which way you look and how the moon beams down. There’s a closed door right in front of you and through the entry hall and living room which you assume is his bedroom held behind a golden doorknob.

His living room, where you remain standing, holds an array of house plants with a couple of very comfortable looking plush sofas, his TV stand as well as his coffee table look like polished vintage items, refurbished from a flea market maybe, while his book shelf and rug are grand and modern. The best part of all though is a grand piano in an oak wood, matching the wood from his television table, and you become instantly entranced by the instrument that you don’t even notice the velvet stool or the perfectly organised cabinet of music, with a guitar propped up against it.

“Wow.” You breathe. Timothée grips you tighter, trailing kisses across your shoulder and up the side of your neck, inhaling every few seconds to treasure the scent of your perfume. Gardenia, rose champagne, grapefruit, davana; heavenly. You grip his hands with your own, holding them tightly where they’re settled on your tummy. You roll your head against his shoulder to give him better access to kiss you, but he stops abruptly and leads you to the piano stool. He opens the cabinet and pulls out a well loved piece of music.

“I know it’s for two pianos, but let's have some fun.” He says, grinning at you, an infectious smile that you can’t help but return. Hallelujah Junction, first movement. He puts the music out on the piano and takes a seat beside you, your thighs touching and hands overlapping as they begin to glide over the keys.

Playing this piece is second nature to you, allowing you to find your way easily, slipping your fingers between Timothée’s, and the white and black keys. You begin a harmonious melody spanning the whole of the piano, but after only a couple of pages, you realise that its not working as your notes cross over, making it very difficult to play on just one piano. You laugh together, but only for a moment before he is trailing his tongue up your neck, then your lips, and delving inside your mouth. You gasp, moaning into the passionate kiss that he’s giving you, and within seconds you find yourself straddling his lap on the piano stool. You trap his thighs between yours, moving and grinding your hips a little against his to receive more friction where you can feel how needy he is.

Within seconds, he has your legs wrapped around his waist and his teeth on your clavicle. The pleasure makes sounds escape your lips that you didn’t even realise were possible. You knot your ankles as he stands up with one hand around your waist and the other feeling his way around his apartment. After a few funny missteps and close calls of him dropping you while only walking the expanse of his living room, he pins you against his bedroom door, finding your lips again

He gently pokes at your dusty pink bottom lip with his tongue, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, exploring avidly and devouring every taste of you that he can muster. You do the same, but become too infatuated by his taste to put much more passion into it: gin, mint, bergamot and smoke. Smoke, sugar and sin, the most deadly combination of them all, and that's all you can smell on him, making you moan even louder. An erotic moan that makes Timothée twist open the handle to his bedroom door as quickly as is humanly possible.

He as good as throws you onto the bed, but undeniably, it turns you on a lot to see his dominant side this early on into the evening. He doesn't seem like the type to pin you down and boss you around, but as he shuts his bedroom door and delicately takes off his probably very expensive shoes, you can see a glint in his eye, almost as if he’s planning on doing unspeakably pleasurable things to you. Just the thought makes you wetter than before.

As he locks the door and shuts his shoes away, you take a quick look around the room. His bed is nice, comfortable and exquisitely large, like other things you hope. He has a nice colourful throw, vintage looking pillows to match his nightstand, holding only a pillbox, a glass of water, hand sanitiser, and a box of tissues. The simplicity makes you want to laugh, but you restrain yourself. He has a big dresser to match his bedside table with the drawers a little skewwhiff and clothes poking out. His wardrobe is fitted to the wall and by the looks of it, surprisingly neat too. That much cannot be said for his sofa though. A plush, light grey sofa sits on one side of his room just away from the window, and it's covered with clothes. At least he made the bed though, that's more than you can say for most 20-odd year old mans rooms that you’ve been into.

He sheds his blazer and crawls up to where he left you on the bed, needy and craving more. He looks down at you with desperation in his eyes, and you can’t help but to attack his lips, threading one hand in his beautiful dark curls while the other nimbly pulls open his tie and undoes his shirt. You shrug it off his shoulders and run your nails up and down his spine. You feel him shiver beneath his touch while your hands travel all over his body. His shoulders, his biceps, his toned stomach; he’s skinny, but has enough substance to him to be strong and sexy as hell.

“You’ll kill me if you stop.” He whispers, followed by a string of breathy curses. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving you ample opportunity to grasp his shoulders and slip the pair of you over, pinning him beneath you. His eyes flit all over your face before kissing you again.

“You are so freaking beautiful.” He mumbles between kisses. He slips his hands up to find the zip of your jumpsuit which he slides down crazily fast, only breaking the kiss to shrug it off your shoulders. He just lies in awe, noticing that you don’t have a bra on beneath it. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he examines every undulation of your body, following the swell of your breasts right down to your hips. Your nerves return under his scrutiny, making you want to hide your face, but instead he holds your wrists behind you.

“You never have to cover up,” he says, nothing more or less than genuine love in his eyes, “not for me.”

Despite only meeting him hours ago, you know that you can trust him, so you ungracefully clamber off his lap and lie on your back to shimmy off your burden of a jumpsuit. He practically leaps at the opportunity to worship your body, before him in only your panties. He starts at your ankle, placing feather light kisses all the way from your ankle, up your leg, not minding the slight harshness of your legs, and only stops at your knee joint to switch his lips to his tongue, licking a straight line all the way up your inner thigh, stopping centimetres from where you need him the most. Not through any of this ritual does he break eye contact though. He skips over your panties and only pulls them down a little to trail kisses from your pelvic bone, up past your navel, through the valley of your breasts, and finally back to your lips. He makes you feel things that you could only dream of before meeting him.

“Timothée…” you breathe, hearing his breath hitch in his throat at the way your tongue curls around his name.

You reach between the two of you to his trousers. You undo the belt buckle with ease and push his trousers off his hips and down his thin legs, allowing him to kick them off at the bottom. He seems embarrassed, wearing Y-fronts that make more visible just how much he wants you.

“How about we strip together?” You offer, and Timothée reluctantly nods. He pushes himself off of you and stands up, giving you a hand to stand up as well. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment you left the concert hall. “3, 2, 1…”

You both remove your underwear, pushing them down your legs and stepping out of them, only to step closer together so that your chests are flush against one another. He moves his hand up to cup your face, brushing your hair away from your face while tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a lustful yet also sensual kiss.

He nudges you and your legs hit the bed, making you topple over and break the kiss from a giggle, but he doesn’t seem to mind and only laughs with you, moving your body further onto the mattress. He doesn't go to you again, he just lies beside you and dances his fingers absently down your pubic bone, ghosting circles around your clit.

“Jesus Christ.” You exclaim at the sudden feeling. Timothée kisses your jawline, but adds in between kisses, “Less of that, darling, I’m Jewish.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. You know he’s joking, just trying to mess with you, but as a punishment for laughing, he thrusts two fingers inside you with no warning, making you cry out in a mixture of both pain and overwhelming pleasure.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, never going deeper than the second knuckle even when you cry out for more. Only when your moans turn to gasps for breath and you’re writhing beneath him does he delve in further and add his thumb to your clit, giving you a more intense orgasm than you’ve ever had before.

You immediately feel blood rushing back to your cheeks, colouring them from embarrassment, but Timothée doesn’t mind. He removes his hand from your core, and makes sure your eyes are fixated on his every movement as he licks his hand clean of all your cum. You’re so turned on that you even reach for his own hand, interlacing all your fingers except for his index one, of which he takes the hint and slips it into your open mouth, allowing your tongue to curl around it, making him groan.

He slips further down the bed and locks his eyes onto yours, you can see different shades of green and hazel in them and a whole world locked behind those beautiful eyes. Slowly, he delves into your heat, licking up everything that his hands missed. His mouth works wonders, sending your mind into a state of mild euphoria. The tip of his nose nudges your clit and you can feel yourself involuntarily gasp, so when Timothée finishes savouring every taste of you that he can get, he harshly bites your sensitive clit for just a moment, stimulating parts of your mind and body that you didn’t know could feel pleasure, let alone pleasure that intense.

He comes back up and kisses your lips, planting his hands in your hair as you kiss him back and get lost in the moment, your tongues dance together in an exploration, an experimentation of passion.

You pull away after a minute or so, gasping for air. Timothée examines your face for a moment, and you find yourself once again losing your thoughts and sanity in his eyes, until you feel the tip of his throbbing cock brush against your bare thigh. You feel bad for how much he’s been neglecting his own levels of desire in order to pleasure you, so you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He takes a sharp intake of breath and flutters his eyes closed, his long dark eyelashes twitching alongside his eyelids whenever you grasp harder or pump him.

He’s surprisingly big, causing you to take longer while rubbing your hand up and down his member. Half way down one thrust, you squeeze his cock a little, hearing him whimper a little. The mere sound of him drowns your core in want. You edge your way down the bed and swallow as much of his dick as you can take until his tip hits the back of your throat. He lets out the most sensual guttural groan that you’ve ever heard, his eyes still closed while placing his hand on the back of your head to keep you steady. You bring your head back up to look at him while your tongue swirls his tip, his mouth is parted a little with breathy moans of your name escaping every once in a while, his eyelids switching from being lazily half open to squeezed so tightly shut that they wrinkle a little.

You go back down slowly, inch by inch, hollowing your cheeks. You work your hand in the part of him that won’t fit in your mouth and continue to bob your head up and down. You lick a strip up a vein on the underside of his dick, making him near enough scream your name. With one final bob of your head where you deep throat him, you pull away with plump lips, climbing up his body to straddle his waist. He looks up at you with wide and loving eyes, pulling you down for a sensual kiss.

“Are you clean?” He asks breathlessly, kissing down the hickeys that he’s already littered your skin with.

“Yeah, i got tested after my last break up a few months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since. Is that because I just…” He nods and you laugh a little, the vibrations from his chuckle rumble throughout your body.

“I did the same, but I’ll still…” You get what he’s saying and climb off him. He flings open the top drawer of his bedside table and after a minute or so of rooting through it he pulls out a condom packet and places it next to his glass of water. You give him a questioning look with your brows knitted together, but Timothée just smiles at you. He slips one slim arm beneath your back and the other under your knee joint before scooping you up and holding you close to his chest.

“Well hey there Timothée.” You say with a chuckle, secretly astonished at how strong he is, because with one arm still holding you, he throws away the decorative pillows and pulls the duvet back, throwing you onto the mattress and leaping on top of you. You smile into his kiss, savouring every second of the feel of his lips pressed hotly against your own, the taste of smoke driving you crazy.

He pulls away and sits up, tearing open the condom packet and grasping his hand sanitiser. He flicks the lid open and squeezes it liberally onto his hands before applying it and rubbing it into yours. “Are you sure?” He asks you, and your urgent kiss to his jawline is followed by a string of fervent reassurances that you are desperate to have him inside you, though you respect that he wants consent and that he wants to be clean. He slips the condom on, his eyes trained on your lips and the way they part from wanting every few seconds. He’s enjoying torturing you and making you wait, the same way that you edged him but denied him orgasm.

He slips the condom on and slowly enters in one smooth stroke. You gasp at the contact, especially how deep he goes with the first thrust, so deep that his pubic bone hits your own. He reaches for the duvet and he pulls it up over his shoulders, covering the pair of you since he can see that you’re shivering a little in the open. He looks for reassurance, but then begins to thrust inside you, holding his weight above you. You can see his biceps tensing while trying to hold his weight up and keep a steady rhythm.

“How about we spice this up?” He suggests, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He cocks an eyebrow, and the sun hits his face at an angelic angle, only making him more beautiful. You nod eagerly to him, only making his smirk grow wider.

“Yes Mr Timothée,” you say, triggering a dominant smirk to relight behind those stunning eyes.

“That's Mr Chalamet to you tonight, Miss.” Words cannot even explain how wet he makes you by saying that, already making your mind want to submit to his every want. You let out a whimper and remove your hands from his hips to lay above your head on the pillows. He joins his fingers around your wrist and proceeds to lay his slender hand flat against your wrists, preventing you from moving.

“Is this okay?” He asks, his movements coming to a halt. You nod and kiss him again. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He must really enjoy what he’s doing to you. “Yes Mr Chalamet.” You reply, making your eyes as doe like and innocent as possible.

Timothée’s thrusts restart, faster this time. You moan louder, ecstasy filling every inch of your spent body before you’ve even properly begun. His moans are lower, more like groans, all of your name. It sounds heavenly coming from his lips, the way his mouth moves when he says your name just makes it better. His hips hit yours with vigour, adjusting to get a better position where he hits the best spot inside of you.

“There Timothée!” You scream desperately, your back arching on the mattress while your hands fight to break free. Submitting isn’t as easy as you hoped.

“I’m close.” He warns you and frees your wrists, but he doesn’t let your hand go too far. He interlocks his fingers with yours, using one elbow to prop himself up. His thrusts turn sloppy, more fervent, and just as he’s finishing, he digs his thumb into your clit.

Your entire body turns limp, screaming his name in a state of complete euphoria like you’ve never felt before. It travels from your brain to the tips of your fingers, setting a fire in your belly and making your toes curl. Your back arches so far off the bed that your chest becomes pressed against Timothée’s, your breasts moving in time with his breathing. You feel him come to his own climax, silencing his screams by kissing you with more passion than he has before.

You ride out your highs, but the level of pleasure illuminating every nerve ending in your body means that you don’t notice Timothée pulling out and disposing of the condom, you only notice when he flops down beside you on the bed and pulls you closer to his slightly sweaty body. You rest your head on his chest that seems to be glowing in the moonlight from the sheen of sweat. He absently plaits your hair, staring off into the distance. The faint thudding of his heart within his ribs comforts you, it's a little faster than would be normal, making you smile a little.

“How was that?” His hand grips around your shoulder even tighter, pulling you closer to his body. He seems content in simply holding you, maybe he just enjoys cuddling. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He corrects himself, his pupils dilating and his excellent, angelic body going rigid. You chuckle to yourself, drawing circles on his chest with the pad of your forefinger,

“Excellent, Mr Chalamet.” You tease him.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He looks fearful, fretting, it's evident in the sudden sulk of his face, pulling his cheeks and forehead down. You shake your head again, slowly but surely moving your leg to lie over his. Ye inclines his neck to place a gentle kiss to our hairline, and you can feel him smile into it.

“Timothée?”

“Yes beautiful?” Just his simple words make you giggle and blush, such a sweet sentiment from a gorgeous and well meaning man.

“I’m hungry.” You say, feeling slightly embarrassed. He laughs, you feel his body move from it, and he proceeds to pepper your face with the softest and sweetest kisses possible.

“I’ll make us some food, grab any shirt you want and meet me in the kitchen.”

You watch him pull on a pair of grey sweat pants and walk out. His pale hips sway just a little as he walks, and he looks so lanky from where you’re laying on his bed, the covers pulled up around your chest. He kissed your forehead before heading to the kitchen, what kind of a man does that on the first night? He’s a famous actor and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, let alone a couple of years above yourself. He really knows how to please a girl, your skin rises in tiny goosebumps of pleasure while a shiver shoots down your spine and leaps across your synapses just at the mere thought of what he did to you, by far the best climax you’ve ever had.

You slowly slide out from under his warm, plush covers that smell just like him, only leaving with severe reluctance that melts away as soon as you shrug on the pale blue button down that he wore for the concert. Only a few hours ago you’d met at a concert for old people, already having a common interest that few your age have, yet he’s so eager about classical piano which is so special to you. You fiddle with the buttons, leaving the top few open in hopes of another round - he is making you an almost-midnight feast after all.

You walk out of his room and pad barefoot across his living room floor, only to have a little grey cat come and rub at your feet. You lean down to tickle behind its ears, hearing it meow, and you continue your way too where Timothée has left the kitchen door open for you. He’s standing over the stove with some ingredients laid out on the spotlessly clean countertops. You smile in spite of yourself, running a hand through your messy hair before wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. You place a couple of kisses to his shoulder blades until he turns around and picks you up in one swift movement, sitting you on the counter so that you meet his height.

“It looks better on you.” He whispers, pulling you closer by your bare thighs to plant a kiss on your lips. He’s making you feel things you’ve never experienced before, you can’t wipe the smile off your face for the first time in a while, and he's making you food in the middle of the night after cuddling you.

Dreamboat.

After watching him cook for a while, you slip out of his kitchen and take a seat at his piano. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, it’s well loved but well kept. Then you take a seat on the stool. You can feel where Timothée sits to play, your smile turning a little sad. There’s so much to him that people won’t see because he’s getting famous, but he’s still a person and that’s something that you’re able to experience first-hand.

Eyes closed, you feel for F and Ab with both of your hands. You press the keys down gently, creating the soft blend of notes that is Clair De Lune. You fall lost in the music in a new way, a new feeling washing you with all of tonight's new sensations and sitting at a piano that is neither your own nor at school, it feels somewhat ethereal.

Your fingers glide all across the keys, black to white, flats to sharps, switching between octaves like its second nature. Your mind dances along with the rhythm, your whole mind, soul and being becoming lost in the symphony that you’re creating, one that you haven’t been able to create for a while, and it’s only thanks to Timothée.

You become so absorbed in playing that you don’t notice him leaving the kitchen to listen. He just stands in the doorway, leaning against it with his head lolled a little to the side, completely mesmerised by your movements, your music, and just everything you are. Only when you play the final notes are you alerted of his presence from the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet. He walks over to you with purpose, a slight grimace on his perfect lips, but he just hugs you. Timothée just holds you close to his chest, allowing you to entwine your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face in his bare chest.

“Stay the night?” He asks, such a simple request but he truly does seem anxious. You want to be genuine, kind, but it’ll be best to relieve the tension.

“You’re making me a late night post-sex feast and giving me your shirt, of course I’m staying the night.” After a moment of silence, he exhales a laugh and node, brushing a curl or two into his face. “Anyway, your cat likes me too, so it’d be a shame to disappoint the little cutie.”

After only a few minutes, you find yourself back in bed with Timothée. He’s carrying a tray full of food that looks and smells gorgeous, followed by his cat who decides to dance between his legs. He serves you a strangely shaped piece of an odd looking pizza, though it still looks excellent, and it has some perfectly cooked and seasoned vegetables next to it on a white plate.

“What is this?” You ask him as kindly as possible.

“Flammekueche with some vegetables. It’s a French pizza with crème fraiche and bacon. My dad makes it all the time and always gives me some that I just freeze and reheat. I can only make microwave meals and vegetables, so this isn’t bad for me.” The way he explains it makes him so endearing, and even makes the food seem more than enticing. “You’re not allergic to anything are you? Or vegetarian?” You shake your head with a smile, kissing him and thanking him for the meal even though he won’t let you touch it before you sanitise your hands.

You talk the whole while that you eat, learning little things about his favourite books and his family. His favourite book just happens to be Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald, a book you both know and love, and Timothee has a Jewish mother, a French father, an older sister, and he grew up in the city. You however are from out of the city with an exceptionally normal family, and your favourite book is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. He seems to be growing fond of you, wiping the pizza sauce from your lip, followed by a kiss each time.

He places your plates on the floor as soon as you finish, snatching at the speed of light for some hand sanitiser, lube and another condom. You more than happily oblige with all of his steps and strip off his shirt, kissing the living daylights out of him before he’s even slotted the condom on. He kisses you back with equal fervour nonetheless, exploring your whole mouth with the tip of his tongue. He cautiously adds some lube to the sides of the condom and slips into you while you’re still atop him. You moan at the penetration, arching your body forwards and hereby giving Timothée a full view of your breasts and the way they bounce with his every thrust inside you.

You moan pornographically at his slow and passionate movements upwards and deep inside you, finding your special spot within moments. He settles his hands upon your hips, squeezing them and guiding your every movement. You ride him just the way he wants you to, you can see it in his eyes. He looks at you like a teenage boy would at a naked supermodel, of which you are only naked and most definitely not a supermodel, despite him treating you like one, and Timothée is thankfully older than a teenage boy yearning for sex.

“You look so fucking brilliant.” He tells you, admiring the way that your face contorts with pleasure while taking every inch of him.

You rhythmically grind your hips against him, swirling them occasionally just to hear him cry out. Nothing is a hinderance from you going faster, but this sex isn’t needing to be urgent to be satisfying. He squeezes your hips harder and you decides to move up a little further, bouncing back down on him as he becomes buried to the hilt in your desperate core. You do it again, engulfing him anew and moaning his name continually from the mix of friction and pleasure that’s sending you into another euphoria, but not enough to release again just yet.

Timothée still hasn’t taken his eyes off you, namely your breasts where he’s currently focussed, eyes trained on your hardened nipples - partly from not wearing a shirt and partly from Timothée’s ministrations. He leans up and captures your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and kissing and swirling his tongue around you in the most divine way possible. He moves his hands away from your hips too, allowing you to grind your hips on his in any way that you like. His one hand moves to your other breast, tweaking and pulling at your right peak and sending sensations through your body that you’d never realised could be real before; while his other slips to the rounds of your ass, squeezing delectably.

“Mr Chalamet, p-please,” you find yourself begging, leaning down while still riding him, his torture on your breasts never ceasing, not even when he thrusts his hips up one final time, allowing your core to devour him whole and sending you into your third otherworldly climax of the night.

“Timothée!” You scream, your climax pouring out of you. You feel him come too, and you hear him cry out your name like a blessing.

He doesn’t pressure you, he just waits until you’re able to clamber off him with as minimal pain and exhaustion as possible, though you do whine at the loss of contact as you lie beside him, his arms securely around you and holding you as close to him as possible. It doesn’t matter that you’re both sweaty or spent, it just feels special.

“Look at that, done before 1am.” He chides, cuddling into you. You laugh a little at him, especially his humour, but it is rather remarkable.

“Two rounds, a meal, and a concert. Can’t speak for you, but I’m knackered.” He smiles at you sleepily, passing you the shirt that you wore earlier. You shrug it on and do it up while Timothée puts his joggers back on and draws the curtains, leaving the two of you in dark for the most part. You lie further down, still close to his thin chest, you hear his breathing rattle a little, but it's soothing.

“Night beautiful.” Is the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The only issue about sleeping with Timothée is that you forget it's a Saturday morning, and on Saturdays, you have to work. Your phone alarm starts to go off at 7.15 precisely, which when you’re home, gives you enough chance to get ready for teaching in a calm manner so that you aren’t already angry before teaching little children how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Today however, that is not the case.

Timothée sleeps through it somehow, but your eyes are shocked wide awake, causing you to leap from the comfort and warmth of his bed and cuddles just to crawl on the floor in search of your phone and where it fell last night. You find it next to his door somehow, and switch the alarm off immediately, propping yourself up against the door to release a long held breath and to watch the sun rise through his windows. He looks so beautiful asleep, his lips parted slightly, soft snores escaping every so often, dark eyebrows furrowed and his mop of curls haphazardly lying around him like a halo. The morning glow makes his cheekbones appear even more defined.

You want to gather your belongings without waking him, get dressed and catch a cab back to your flat, but just as you go to open his door, he stirs.

“Where do you think you’re going beautiful? Come back to bed, I’m keeping you here with me forever.” You know he’s joking, and his words melt your heart and inhibitions a little, but you can’t justify staying

“I have to work, my first student is at 9.30.” You say, walking across to stand beside his bed and brush some hair off his forehead, kissing him and your lips lingering on his sweaty skin a little longer than they probably should have.

“And? I’ll drive you home in time, if you live near Juilliard then I know a shortcut. Just come back.” He's virtually pleading, puppy eyes and quivering lip just to add to the effect, and you simply can’t say no when he looks so perfect. You place your things on the floor by the bed and slip beside him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut just a moment longer.

His finger traces your naked body beneath the shirt, focussing on the bruises he left on your hips and the marks on your neck. Just his touch is enough to take control of your body, to give you goosebumps, to electrify every feeling of love and lust held within.

“Can I use your shower please?” You ask him, and he nods, placing his chin atop your head.

“I’ll take you to my bathroom and then I’ll make you breakfast. Grab whatever clothing you want from my room, but you can’t leave this bed until you agree to dinner with me tonight.”

Your heart rate increases tenfold at his gesture, and you want to take a leap of faith and say yes straight away, but that would be playing your cards too quickly. “We’ll see.” You respond sultrily, making your way to leave, but his strong grip pulls you flush against him with no space to move. You can hear him laughing in your ear.

“Say yes to dinner and then you can leave.” He slips his hands further down your front without losing his grip and decides to toy with your clit as though it’ll get you to talk.

“Y-yes! God, Timothée, of course I’ll go to dinner with you, just don’t stop!” You find it impossible to understand the shockwaves of pleasure pulsating and electrifying your every sense from an action as simple as the pads of his fore and middle fingers twisting and pressing your sensitive clit. It’s so incredible that after the previous night, it feels like overstimulation, and you can’t get enough.

“I’ll never stop.” He murmurs gruffly into your ear, you can hear the hoarseness that smoking causes but god it sounds and tastes so good.

He pulls your body closer and rolls you over. “Hey baby.” You say as calmly as you can, but within seconds you find yourself sitting on his face, half of his stunning bone structure lost beneath you. He delves his tongue into your already dripping heat, licking as far as he can get and only pulling away to kiss and suckle at your clit.

“Let me come Mr Chalamet!” You cry out, and with one final swipe of his tongue around your core and a squeeze of your ass, you let go. Timothée licks you clean while you still chant his name, and he proceeds to pick you up in order to carry you to the bathroom. You settle your heels at the base of his spine, digging in a little, and his arms tense beneath your ass from the manner he carries you. You like being above him, able to trace every line and bit of stubble on his face with your focussed eyes that he stares so deeply into at any given chance.

“Don’t be too long or I’ll be tempted to join you.”

You slowly cross the threshold of the bathroom, winking at him as you close the door. He inaudibly groans, but you can tell from his facial expression and the tension in his joggers that make him look utterly sexy. You slowly unbutton his shirt, reluctant to take it off, but when you step under the warm jet of his shower, that reluctance washes away along with any inhibitions you may have had about Timothée. He’s an angel: clean, respectful, enjoys classical music, has a cat, isn’t a cocky dickhead, and he’s literally the most gorgeous human being that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You run your fingers through your hair, standing directly beneath his showerhead. The steam clouds your vision, but you can hear Timothée singing while he cooks, Mystery of Love. What a dork, you think, chuckling to yourself while you rinse Tim’s shower gel from your body, and you just know that after this you’ll smell like him, but he smells delectable. As the water hits the most sensitive parts of your body, you remember the previous night. Just the thought of what he did to you makes you crave his touch again.

Through the bathroom window, you can make out the New York traffic that builds every morning, accompanied by the screeching of tires and sirens and car horns. Despite it being a ruckus, it's soothing as you step out the shower and wrap yourself in one of Timothée’s fluffy towels.

“How do you look so sexy when you’re getting out of the shower? God, I can't stress it enough, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen in my life, even without any makeup and with your hair un-styled, just wrapped in my Goddamn towel. You’re gonna be mine, mark my words.” You feel tears come to your eyes at his kind words, watching him purposefully walk from the kitchen and all the way across his apartment just to place his hands on your waist and tell you how beautiful you are. Those words are better than a concerto to you.

Once you’ve finished getting dry in his bedroom, you ferret through his drawers until you pull out a white top with various tie dye patterns across it. It’s cute, very Timothée. You pull it on and it reaches your mid thighs, making it clock in your head just how much of a lanky lad he is. You bundle together your stuff and head out of his room, closing the door behind you and greeting him with a kiss. He sits you at the breakfast bar and serves you a proper cooked breakfast: bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes.

“There's ketchup and syrup in the cupboard if you’d like.” He offers, sidling up on the seat beside you, nudging the tip of your nose with his thumb. The smile hasn’t left your face since you met him.

“This is good, you’re an excellent cook.” You tell him, resting your hand on his. His cheeks glow an even brighter red in the cascading morning sunlight, dappled by his blinds, but he looks magnificent despite his embarrassment.

You take out your phone, just to take a picture of the breakfast while it’s still untouched, and of your hand held by Timothée’s, already wearing rings. You notice that he’s already wearing a silver chain too, and a couple of bracelets on the wrist away from your own, which you find unusually attractive.

“I wish you could stay all day.” he whispers, placing his forehead on yours.

“Me too.” you say softly, smiling sadly and caressing his cheek.

You finish your breakfast and make your way to the living room in a strange kind of waltz orchestrated by Timothée. He insists on holding your waist and turning around a little, moving your feet in sync until you yank him down onto the sofa, catching his lips mid sigh which leads to a much more passionate make out session than you anticipated. Once that’s over, he plaits your hair beautifully, explaining how it used to calm his sister down before an audition. By the time he’s finished a very good pair of plaits, you check the time and it’s already 9, time for you to leave with NYC traffic, but Tim won’t let you go.

“Not without a photo.” He insists, but you question his reasons. Who would want a photo of you with wet hair in plaits, an oversized tee-shirt and a bare face? But his answer is too sweet to refuse. “I like taking pictures of beautiful things, and of which, you are the most beautiful.” Your cheeks flush a raging scarlet, and Timothée takes your few moments of silence as the perfect opportunity to take a picture of you, sunlight hitting your face in all the right places, and he takes another for good measure, his hand on your cheek and his lips on yours, a kiss that shuts you up for good.

He takes you down the stairs right to the garage where he keeps his car, and surprisingly, it’s an understated car, not crazily extortionate nor flashy, something which you respect highly. He sits you in the passenger side, making sure to kiss you before closing the door, and he gets in the driver's side. After starting the engine and leaving the parking lot, he lays his palm flat against your thigh and keeps it there the whole drive while you change gears for him. You tell him all about your childhood, your high school, your time in uni while he tells you his life at a performing arts high school and then his life as an actor, he truly fascinates you.

Once he pulls up outside your building, he tries to convince you to let him come in, or at least walk you to your door, but on the grounds of not scaring the life out of your neighbours and students, you say no with a promise to see him later.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight that you won’t be able to walk.” He says, pulling you in for a final passionate kiss before you step out of the car. He made you wet just before you have to work, you’ll get him back later, but the revenge melts as soon as he leans out the window to blow you a kiss and tell you how stunning you are.

You’re so lost in your trance of Timothée that you don’t notice your first student tapping you on the shoulder and excitedly saying “Was that the Timothée Chalamet?”

You chuckle to yourself, watching him drive off into traffic, all for you. “Yes it was love, yes it was.”

#timothee chalamet #concerto #timmy t #chalamet #tim chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee smut #timothee fluff #timothee imagine

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voidclrx · 3 years

Note

i requested a yelena college au where the reader has classes with yelena, but they never spoke or anything. yelena catches feelings for the reader. there’s a party going on that weekend and they both attend, the reader with her friends (sasha, mikasa, historia) and yelena with hers (zeke, onyankopon, etc) yelena sees the reader and her friends know about her feelings and encourage her to ask reader to dance. they do and reader accepts. things go well later on and yelena asks to talk to her in private. they go and yelena confesses her feelings. the reader reciprocates the feelings and they end up kissing and end up going to their dorm to do nsfw activities :) thank you! sorry if it’s a lot

aaaaaaah i remember now!! i’m so sorry if it’s late

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yelena x fem!reader

tw: little mention of alcohol, nsfw, and fingering

note : it’s too long 😭😭

college!au

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party

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college,

the place where people enjoyed the most their life. they’re studying , they met new people and make new friends. but some of them, sometimes fall in love, and yelena was one of them. since a few weeks, she catches feeling for a girl that was in the same classes as her. every time she can, yelena looked at her, trying to watched what is she doing and this girl was you. she didn’t know you much and didn’t even talked to you. but her feelings was there and she was tired of avoided them every time of course, you don’t know about her feelings towards you. sadly, yelena didn’t have any ideas of how approached you, and was really scared of your reaction. lost in her thought, she didn’t noticed that zeke was talking to her. “oi oi, yelena. are you with us?”. “ah yes, sorry”. she said. niccolo looked at her with an interrogative gaze. “what you were thinking about?”. yelena blushed instantately at onyankopon’s question. “oh, um n-nothing special”. “pretty sure you were daydreaming about this girl, y/n, that is in our class”.zeke teased her; nobody expect him and onyankopon know about her crush on you. “i don’t know what you are talking about, zeke.”, she turned her head on the side to hide her embarassment. “we’re not stupid you know. the way you look at her is totally fooling you, don’t lie to us”. zeke declared. yelena was there facing her friends, didn’t know was to responded to him. she knows that he was right, she can’t denied it. she sighed loudly as an answer. “oh and by the way, there is a party this weekend and we are invite”. “oh i don’t know i-”. you know she’s gonna be there too”. onyankopon announced. zeke smirked at her, knowing that she would obviously coming with them at this party. “okay”; she sighed. “i hope for you she’s really gonna be there, if not you’re both dead men”.

the weekend were finally there and the party too, you were in your dorm with mikasa, historia and sasha, preparing yourself for the party. “wow this dress suit you a lot mikasa”. you complimented her as she blushed. “oh t-thanks y/n, you too by the way”. you smiled at her. historia looked at you as she finished putting on makeup to sasha. “y/n? do you want me to put makeup on you?”. “i would like to, thanks”. historia start to put mascara on your lashes, her moves was really soft. after that, she searched for a lipstick. “you want something more glossy or matte?”. “humm, something glossy” you replied. historia takes a glossy pink lipstick and start to put it on your lips. "oooh it suit you a lot, y/n". you looked at yourself in the mirror. she was right, the lipstick made your lips look really beautiful. after everyone getting finally ready, you finally headed towards the party.

—

there was already a lot of people there, some was already drinking alcohol as if it was water. you and your friends finally arrived, when you saw jean with connie. "hiii guys!". historia runs towards them. jean looked at you four and wave his hand. "hi girls! ready for this party?". "of course, always hehe" sasha replied. "music? yes! come on girls, let’s go dancing". you said as taking your friend’s arm. students were already dancing like if it was their last party.

yelena was there, sat around a table with zeke, onyankopon and niccolo when she saw you, dancing with your friends. your body were synchronised with the rhythm of the music. she was almost drooling looking at your curves, that were more visible because of the dress you wore. "omg yelena, you’re so hopeless. ask her to dance with you or something". zeke proposed her, annoyed by her desperate gaze. "are you crazy? she don’t know me how can i ask her?". she replied. she really wanted to but she was a bit embarrassed because you both had never spoke, so she thought that you may find it weird. "yelena, go ask her or i’ll do it for you" niccolo snapped. yelena looked towards him and replied. "do that and i’ll kill you". as she turned her head, she saw zeke lifted up from the table. "zeke? where are you going?". yelena looked at him. "because you don’t want to ask y/n to dance with you, imma do it for you". yelena’s eyes widened at his answer. "what? no no no!!". zeke stopped and turn around toward her. "so what? you’re gonna stay there, daydreaming about her? yelena i didn’t know you this shy!". "zeke! it would be embarrassing. she didn’t even know m-". zeke cut her off. "i don’t care yelena, i’m done with you looking at her and doing nothing. so with your agreement or not, i’m gonna do it for you". "okay okay, i’m gonna do but please let me a second before, i have to prepare myself mentally". yelena sighed, her heart start to raced really fast. she didn’t expected that the evening where going like this. she start to got up and headed herself towards you. the most she approached to you, the most she felt butterflies growing up. as she was behind you. "mmh, y-y/n?". you turned around as you heard a baritone voice calling you. you looked up to see a tall figure. you know this person, she was in your class, you didn’t say anyone but you find her really beautiful. "yes?". "i-i was wondering if you want to dance with me?". she looked at you, waiting for your answer, you cant help but blushed at her request. you turned on face your friends that seems to cheered you to accept, especially historia. "uhm yes if you want" you looked up to her, not knowing her name. "yelena, i’m yelena!". hearing her name gives you goosebumps, and your cheeks turns red. you wrapped your hand around her neck, and she put her hand on your waist. yours body dance with the rhythm. yelena still had butterflies in her as she look at you, fuck she’s so beautiful, i’m lucky that she had accepted, she thought. you looked at her and smiled, you traced her face with your eyes. you looked first at her big black eyes, you can see that her pupils was bigger than usual, maybe it was because of the alcohol (readers we all know that it’s not alcohol). after that, you looked down at her nose to end up on her plumpy lips. you didn’t know why but you want to kiss them so bad. nobody knows that but you had a little crush on her. you get to be really discreet, so nobody remarked it.

after couple of minutes of dancing with yelena, she approached herself against your ear to whispered "y/n can we go out in a more private place? i want to talk with you". you were a bit hesitant at first but you finally accepted, knowing that she didn’t seems to be dangerous or something. she took your hand and carried you to place where nobody was. she cleared her throat and start to speak. "okay listen y/n, i know that we didn’t know each other that much but since months now a grew up a certain interest towards you, until i developed feelings. i-i like you, y/n". you looked up at her, completely shocked by her announce. "you might think i’m weird sorry. y-you dot have to reciprocate it, it’s not a big deal anyw-". she get cut by you, kissing her. you separate from her to talk to her. "don’t say stupid thing like that, don’t reciprocate? you must be crazy yelena. nobody knows but i was in the same situation as you, i love you too yelena”. as you finished your sentence, yelena takes your cheeks in her hands and kiss you softly. your arms go around her neck, and hers on your hips. your lips moved together, and yelena wanted to mix her tongue with yours, so she asked for you to open your mouth, which you did. the kiss start to get more sensual and needy. yelena stop the kiss and looked at you. "follow me". she took your hand, and you followed her. arrived at her dorm, she opened the door and you entered in. as long as she closes the door, she pinned you against the wall to kiss you. "jump". she commanded you, you jumped and she took your legs to wrap them around her waist. you known how it would ended, but you didn’t complain. yelena carried you in her big bed and continue to kiss you. she wants to took off your dress, but she asked your consent first. "can i?". you nodded as a response, as she unzipped your dress and unclip your bra, your bare breasts showing up to her and she almost drooled at the view. "fuck princess, you have perfect nipples". she started to lick the left one and squeezing the others. you let out small squirming because of the sensation, but scared of someone hearing you, you covered your mouth without hand. but yelena disagreed and pinned your hand in the bed "you have handsome moans, don’t keep them for you". your soft moans were music to her ear. as you let her playing with your breasts, you looked at her. i didn’t know this dominant side of her, that’s freaking hot, you thought. she started to her down on your panties, playing with the elastic. again she asked your permission. of course, you accepted. you lifted your hips to help her. she kissed your inner thigh, and even leaving hickeys on it. after they, she headed her tongue against your soaking cunt. "mmh look at these pinky lips, already so wet for me". she started to lapping your clit slowly as you arched your back because of the sensation. your hands were going in her hair, starting to pulling them. she groaned because of you weren’t going easy on her poor locks.

her licking we’re going faster and your moans were getting loudly. "f-fuck y-yelena that’s so good". "yes, i can hear that kitten". she said, before adding 2 fingers in you. your eyes widened at her thrusts. your legs starting to shakes and you rolled your eyes back, moaning desperately. "baby, i didn’t know you were a pillow princess". your only answer were a moan, since you can’t barely spoke because of yelena’s thrusts that were dizzying you. "yelena- ah. i-i’m clo-ose". you were crying of pleasure. "i know, your wet walls are attacking my fingers now". she joked. "cum on my fingers baby". after the last thrusting, you arched your back as your climax comes over you. getting down from your high and catching your breath again, you looked up at yelena that was smiling at you. she stroke your cheeks softly and kiss your nose. "so are we official, now?". she asked smirking. "of course, ‘lena. it’s not like our private discussion were about that at the beginning". you replied, teasing her of how it has turned.

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fuck i hope my english is good and that you like it🏃🏼‍♀️

#yelena x reader #yelena #yelena aot #yelena snk #snk yelena #aot yelena #shingeki no kyojin

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jabbagabba · 4 years

Text

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can’t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife’s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

#daughter!reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #teen!reader #stark!reader #marvel x y/n #wandavision x you #marvel x you

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autumnslance · 3 years

Link

"In the five years following your sudden disappearance from the Carteneau Flats, your ever-faithful chocobo spent each waking moment galloping across the realm in search of [his] lost master. [His] myriad adventures are nothing less than fantastical and heartbreaking...but that is a story for another day." - Legacy Chocobo mount description.

((Animal love, loyalty, and those bonds woven by fate. So there’s some animal angst and injury, but also a happy ending. Crossposted below for those who prefer Tumblr:))

“I need you to stay here,” her person said, rubbing her beak and scratching the white feathers of her neck.

She kweh’d softly, not liking the request but because he had asked it, she would obey and listen for the whistle binding them together, when he needed her to come to his aid.

The not-a-moon hung low and burning in the sky. The land’s aether tasted funny, the smells of nature were all wrong. Any creature with sense hid as fiends roamed.

People had little sense, she’d found. Especially her person; in his armor, his axe pulled from his back, he would throw himself into the fray with a shout to fight anything that harmed others. Normally, she would be right there with him, beak and talon and wings alongside his weapon, helping him.

“That’s my Snowlight, my good girl,” he crooned, leaving a kiss on the end of her beak before turning to join his comrades.

She had been injured in their last fight, trying to keep him safe, and so she couldn’t join him in this one but he still said she was good and that was what mattered.

She kweh’d encouragement after him, satisfied he turned back to wave one more time, before joining all the other people leaving to fight.

—-

The not-a-moon broke apart and released Horror. There were flames and pain and ear-splitting roars.

The stables were on fire.

Snowlight was too injured to fight, but not too injured to herd the frightened silly-headed carriage chocobos out of the flames. Not too injured to find the coughing stablemaster, knock a fallen beam aside, and herd him out, too. She even found one of the barn kittens, confused and afraid, carefully picking it up in her beak like a chick.

Snowlight was a good girl. Her person helped others, and so would she.

The Horror was over the field where she knew her person was. It was malms away and he hadn’t called but her heart fluttered wildly and she ignored the grooms and handlers to dash through the burning woods.

He needed her, she couldn’t let him—

The world went white, then red, then white again, and finally black.

—-

The world’s aether tasted thin and strange, like weak juice left out too long.

She pulled herself out of the little hollow of debris and ash, casting a cure on instinct at the twinges in her wings and legs and neck, the injury on her side--the one that had kept her in the stable to begin with--throbbing again. The cure helped.

Snowlight blinked, trying to get a sense of where her person was, the location of the whistle attuning them to one another.

She couldn’t find it.

She shook out her feathers and limped on to where she thought maybe she had last felt it, in the direction he had left with his friends and all the other people, toward the setting sun--though it was currently obscured by angry clouds and more ashes.

Familiar places looked strange, though Snowlight couldn’t really put a talon on why or how. The forest was oddly silent, slow to wake from the disaster. The Elementals seemed especially distant.

She foraged for berries and greens, then slept. She was cautious of water she found but had to drink; the rain that fell later helped a great deal, though it was also heavy with dust and grief. She foraged more, and then slept more under a rocky outcropping.

The pass to the north felt wrong, cold winds blowing from the hills. So she kept heading west, through the less familiar hills, to get to the gloomy place.

Snowlight could always find the gloomy place, especially when the wind blew right. It felt like a scab on the world, the magic—and Something Else—waiting under the lake’s surface. It was an easy place to find, if weird.

It took a couple days for Snowlight to reach the gloomy place; slower than usual, but she was still recovering from her injuries and the paths through the woods were not easy to navigate. There weren’t as many fiends roaming around, at least, and the ones that were could be easily avoided.

The other creatures were waking and coming out of hiding again, too. She was a little less lonely, with the small birds singing.

The gloomy place was more of a mess than usual, a crystal spire piercing the air and giving off waves of suppressed magic. The corpse in the center of the lake continued to sleep but she gave the shore wide berth, both for its slumbering guardian and for the poison filming the water.

Snowlight continued west and a bit south, still not sensing her person, nor had he called for her on the whistle. She couldn’t teleport without the pull of the whistle. Her feet hurt but she kept picking her way through the ruins of machina parts.

She went to the camp for food, but it was empty, the aetheryte exploded in size and twisted in shape, the tents and supplies torn and burned. There were no people anymore.

Snowlight kweh’d sadly, rummaging through the wreckage for anything edible. She was rewarded with burnt gysahl greens, tasting faintly of staticky aether, but it was enough to raise her flagging spirits. After considering the twisty former aetheryte for a long moment, she decided one of the half-fallen tents at the edge of the old camp would be all right for sleeping in. There was still enough man-smell to keep wild creatures away.

—-

“Well ain’t you a beauty,” the big man with the rough voice said. “Fetch a good price at market.”

“To hell with the market,” the skinny man whined. “I’m starved and it’ll feed the whole bloody camp.”

“C’mere—” the scarred lady reached for Snowlight.

She beat her wings and shrieked. The trio swore and threw up their hands to protect their faces.

Snowlight was almost to the terrible place, full of twisted aether and death. The last place she knew her person had been. This trio had come upon her as the noon sun struggled to break through the thick clouds. They smelled of blood and offal and desperation, and she did not trust them.

The whiny man ducked close, so Snowlight leapt and kicked him, throwing him into the lady with a shout.

The big man managed to snag her neck, his arms squeezing. “C’mere you overgrown chicken I’ll—”

Snowlight shoved back and up; she couldn’t fly far with the aether currents so warped, but it was enough to startle him, and now he clung to not fall even the few fulms she had lifted him. She bucked until he slipped off and then she flew away as fast and as far as she could.

There was a whistling noise and a sharp pain in her flank but she swerved and pushed faster, hearing the hissing whistle of more arrows. She fought against the weird currents and her own weary wings, risking crossing a high bank that abruptly dropped into a narrow ravine, almost like a frozen wave of earth instead of water.

On the other side she landed heavily and ran, feeling warm liquid trickle down her leg, the arrow still lodged but loose enough to shift and pinch with every motion. Even so, she pressed on.

She was close.

Spots crossed her vision. She no longer heard the mean people; only the wind. Panting, she stopped finally, swaying on her trembling legs.

Where was he?

She spent a bit of strength to cast a cure, the arrow forced out as the flesh healed. She had to rest, but the mean people might still chase her. And she had to be close to where he was. Surely it was simply the damage caused by the Horror that was obscuring the connection, his call.

He had to have tried to call her. He couldn’t go this long on his own.

There were more people dotting the ruined plain, but they were easy to avoid now that she knew she had to be sneaky. She picked her way through smoldering magitek and torn earth and twisted structures that felt Wrong and smelled Strange. There were bodies, but none of them the one she looked for, thankfully.

A whiff of his scent caught in her beak and she kweh’d happily, seeking more. Still he did not respond, it was merely the scent of his previous presence. Perhaps he was among the people.

She drew as close as she dared to the tents. To the warm, gentle pulse of the Seedseer.

His scent was not among the camp.

Snowlight pondered this as she tried to retrace her steps to where she had caught that whiff. The field was scorched, the ground rippled from the blasts of competing magic. The aftertaste of the old mage lingered on her tongue, though it had a more bitter endnote than she recalled. Snowlight kweh’d again, digging for the scents of her person and his companions, catching hints and traces, but not finding them. Not finding him.

A voice called. She looked up and saw a yellow-clad man pointing in her direction. She turned and jogged away before the Adders could come close. While they would likely be more friendly than the bandits earlier, she had not the time for them.

She still had to find her person.

—-

Snowlight found hiding spots, keeping away from the Adders and adventurers still lingering. The taste of healing magic hung over the camp, competing with the blood and pain.

The camp was the best place to find food, though; this terrible place had none naturally anymore, blasted away or warped beyond recognition.

Snowlight was a good sneak; her person had often said so, when she played the hide and seek game with him. She would hide something he used and he had to find it. It was always great fun. She had also used it to swipe food before, risking a scolding but it was her person’s own fault for trying to deny her treats when she needed them.

Her sneakiness came in handy as she maneuvered herself into the Adders’ flock and helped herself to some of the feed provided. The destriers were too tired themselves to snap or fuss and besides, she could easily fight any of them into submission and they knew it; she was an adventuring bird, after all.

She was careful to keep the others between her and the soldiers, to not let them notice or catch her. It was tricky, given her bright white plumage compared to most army chocobos. But Snowlight was a good sneak, and managed to avoid getting caught. She had things to do, after all, and had to be ready if her person called.

She still couldn’t sense him. She still had not heard his whistle.

Snowlight slipped out of the flock, leaping the makeshift fencing while the handlers were busy. Then she returned to searching the broken plain.

The Adders were getting ready to break camp; there were few bodies left amid the wreckage of the battlefield, few new wounded found. They had worked tirelessly for over a sennight, the Seedseer and the conjurers sparks of the natural world amidst the carnage.

Snowlight returned again to the place where she had scented her person and his friends. She circled around it once more, a periphery she had scratched into the ashes as she tried to figure out where they had gone. How they had gone.

“They aren’t here,” a gentle voice said.

Snowlight warked and jumped, whirling to face the weary Seedseer as she leaned on her staff. Even exhausted, power thrummed through the padjal’s frame, a barely held summer storm. She smiled at Snowlight.

“I think I recognize you,” the Seedseer said. “Yes...I can’t quite recall…” She frowned. “I don’t remember their faces. Their names. But I know you were with them, once.”

Snowlight listened, keeping still. It was only polite in the padjal’s presence. As the Seedseer paused, though, Snowlight asked a tentative “Kweh?”

The Seedseer shook her head. “I don’t know where they have gone. One moment, they were there. I know I must have seen them. But all I remember are their silhouettes in the light. And then…” she trailed off, a perplexed look on her face. “I only know they’re gone. I’m sorry.”

Snowlight chirred in frustration, ruffling her wings. She didn’t understand, and usually the padjali were easier to comprehend than other people. What the Seedseer said made no sense.

“I know, it’s difficult,” the Seedseer said, voice cracking in grief and weariness as she reached out a hand. “But come; we can take care of you, and—’’

Snowlight was a good girl. Usually. The Seedseer was to be respected. Usually.

Snowlight shrieked and reared, flapping her wings as she backpedaled from the startled padjal.

“Wait—” the Seedseer called as Snowlight whirled and dashed, avoiding the soldiers who followed the padjal, who tried to catch Snowlight on their mistress’ command.

A soldier stood in her way. Snowlight warked a single warning before barrelling over and past him, ignoring the shouts.

They were hard to hear through the rushing, pounding feeling in her head, the ache in her heart that already felt like it had run for malms.

She ran up a tilted piece of machinery, a giant wall that had fallen from the not-a-moon and flapping her wings took off, flying toward the boggy saltmarsh to the north.

Her person wasn’t there, but neither were the soldiers, or the Seedseer and her painful words.

Snowlight would rest. She would eat. She would recover. Then she would keep looking for wherever her person had gotten to.

She had to. Snowlight was a good girl.

—-

Snowlight was so tired.

Her plumage was not as bright as it had once been; she had not had a proper grooming in a long time, and injuries and life in the wild had left her more ragged than she had ever been. Her person had often called her the prettiest chocobo in Eorzea, though she looked nothing like that now.

He still had not called. She still could not sense him. She still searched, though; the Seedseer was wrong, and he was just lost. He had lost the whistle in that Horror. He was waiting for Snowlight to find him.

Sometimes, curled up under a tree or in an abandoned building or an old cave, she would sleep and dream of the days they had rode together. Of their adventures, their games, his laughter, his scritches. His warmth as he leaned back against her side while the campfire crackled, his voice as he talked about so many things. She almost never understood, but he had such a nice voice. She missed hearing it.

The dreams were happy, but waking from them was sad. Snowlight stood, ruffled her feathers, and kept looking.

She had sought him out in the ruined reaches of the western marsh and the terrible place, through the gloomy place and its unsettling waiting feeling. Through the Wood, the Elementals barely whispering anymore, rarely waking from their slumber. She crossed the scrublands and burning sands, even risking the golden plains and the lizardmen who rode across them. She picked her way among the rocky mountains, and into the frozen land in the north, the wind and ice aether unrelenting even in the height of summer.

Snowlight was not yet certain how she could cross the strait to the island; it was just about the only place in the realm she had not looked over the last five summers and winters. The Seedseer’s words echoed in her memory again but Snowlight shook them away.

Her person was somewhere. She just had to find him.

She was back in the Wood. She would have to head west past the gloomy place and the salt marsh. If she didn’t want to be caught, anyway; she would have to find a way across the sea that did not involve people.

Sometimes she found people in trouble; beset by fiends or bandits, lost children crying alone, hurt people needing a cure. Snowlight had once been a good girl, and her person had helped people. So she scared off the fiends, fought the bandits, cast a cure on hurts, and guided the lost to safety. She sometimes, warily, took food and rest from those she helped. But then they would try to keep her—or worse, turn out to be mean themselves, and so she left as quickly as possible. Some wanted her for her plumage, some for riding or working, some for food. She wanted nothing to do with them as they were not her person.

So simply best to avoid people now.

Snowlight was tired, and so missed the snare that entangled her feet, triggering a second that caught her wings.

She flailed and shrieked. There was a prickle on her neck and she felt very woozy. It was getting dark again, but that couldn’t be right as the sun had just come up.

“Finally got ‘er,” a man’s voice said from...above her? When had she fallen to the ground? She warked and tried to struggle as careful hands gripped her. “She’s a tough ol’ bird for sure, but once she’s broken in…”

The world went black, and Snowlight dreamed of running across an open windy plain, her person laughing and whooping on her back.

—-

“Gods take you, you miserable bitch!” the stablehand yelled, clutching his bitten hand.

Snowlight just chirred a warning low in her chest, her feathers ruffled up as she glowered at him, beak clacking another warning.

No one here called her a good girl. Snowlight did not feel like being good, when they kept her hobbled and more often than not in the stable. The most experienced hands would put a lead on her halter and let her run alongside them for too brief a time in too small a pen each day. Most of them were kind, and she usually felt bad after snapping at them with her beak, or scratching them with her talons.

But none of them would let her go to find her person, and her person had not come for her here, so she didn’t want to stay.

A quiet presence stepped up behind the stablehand. He turned to the slim young woman. “Nevermind this one; she mighta been some adventurer’s bird once, but she’s gone wild. Don’t like anybody, this ‘bo.”

The woman simply took the lead and approached the stall.

Snowlight turned her eyes to the woman, and her rumbling ceased. There was something oddly familiar here, but Snowlight wasn’t sure what. Tall for the kind of person she was, midnight hair, and…

Snowlight tossed her head and kweh’d, confused but excited. She had caught a scent, a scent she had only ever smelled on her person before! This woman had the same underlying tone; a warm spice that left Snowlight trembling. She barely noticed when the woman snapped the lead onto her halter.

“Good girl,” the woman said quietly, pitched in a way only Snowlight could hear—just like her person used to do, and though this woman’s voice was higher and gentler, there was something in the way the words were shaped, something in the timbre of her voice, that felt right and familiar.

It had been so long since someone had called Snowlight a good girl.

The stablehand was boggled as the woman opened the stall and led a quiet, nearly docile Snowlight out and to the exercise pen. Snowlight paid him no mind; she was trying to figure this out.

The woman led Snowlight to the pen and let her jog on the long lead. She didn’t get fussy or scared when Snowlight stretched and beat her wings. It would be easy to escape any other handler who allowed that.

But Snowlight knew the woman was an adventurer, and adventurers were strong and tricksy. And there was a quiet strength and unrealized power in this woman.

She felt like Snowlight’s person did.

The woman offered her some gysahl greens and scratched her neck just the way her person used to, finding exactly the Right Spot. Snowlight sighed.

She was so tired.

“Been awhile since you trusted someone,” the woman said. Her accent was definitely the same as Snowlight’s person, and the same tone if higher. Her scent was the same too; not just soaps and the smells people put on themselves, but deeper, in blood and bone. When Snowlight peered at the woman, here in the daylight, there were ways she moved, the way she smiled, the color of her eyes, that were the same as his.

The woman let Snowlight run a little longer, putting her through paces using the same foreign words her person used to, the ones meaning “slow down” or “speed up” or “stop” and “go.” She gave Snowlight more greens and pets and then led her back to the stable.

The other handlers were confused, whispering, uncertain. One came close and Snowlight snapped at him out of habit. “Shh,” the woman said. She didn’t scold or jerk the halter, just laid her hand on Snowlight’s neck. “We need to brush you down.”

Snowlight did feel itchy after exercise. Still, she didn’t want the others muddling things up, not when she was trying to figure out this woman and why she felt as right and familiar as Snowlight’s person had.

The woman took her time, giving Snowlight a thorough bath and brushing. She did not let the woman trim her talons though, or check in her beak; not yet. There were limits.

Snowlight’s stall was clean and there was fresh feed and cool water. The handler she had bitten earlier shook his head, hand now bandaged. “Dunno what you did, but thank you. Poor old girl was running wild for years, near as we can tell. One of many who lost their riders in the Calamity, is my guess. She’s had it rough and won’t let folks near—until you.”

The woman shrugged and smiled.

“Well thank you. You’re welcome to return and help anytime.” He was only partly joking.

The woman simply nodded, retrieving her bow and quiver from the hooks where she had left them, before she turned to go.

Snowlight lifted her head from the feed bin to kweh a goodbye to the woman. The woman turned and smiled, waving to Snowlight.

When Snowlight fell asleep that night, she dreamed of her person, as usual. But the woman was also there, her laugh joining his.

A couple days later, Snowlight was kicking a ball toy in her stall, bored until it was time for the handlers to come take her to exercises again. She stopped kicking the ball and perked up at hearing a certain step, catching a certain scent. She kweh’d toward the quiet presence entering the stable.

“Hello,” the woman said to Snowlight. “Did you want to train again?”

Snowlight kweh’d and ruffled her feathers happily. She liked this quiet woman who reminded her of her person. She thought perhaps they were from the same clutch. After all, Showlight could tell when two chocobos were related, and while people were different they had their own families too.

The woman hung up her weapons and picked up the lead rope. Snowlight allowed the woman to guide her out into the exercise pens and they played for well over a bell. Then the woman bathed and brushed Snowlight again, before bringing her back to the stall, freshly cleaned by the other handlers.

The woman stroked Snowlight’s beak. “Good girl,” she said.

Snowlight preened.

The stablemaster was nearby and shook his head. “No one’s been able to get near that bird for moons. You come along and she’s docile as anything.”

The woman shrugged. “I didn’t do anything special; just treated her nice.”

“All any of us tried,” the stable master sighed. He peered at Snowlight. “She ain’t changed her attitude to the rest of us, neither.”

“I should be back in a few days,” the woman said. “I can help again then.”

“We appreciate it,” he said. “Maybe she’ll calm down with repeat visits from someone she trusts.”

The woman nodded, and gave Snowlight one last scritch before heading out once more. She turned and waved again when Snowlight called to her. That was nice.

—-

It had been nearly a moon since the woman’s last visit.

Snowlight had gotten used to the woman coming by every few days, looking and smelling and sounding so much like her person had; it was like having a part of him back as they trained and played and cleaned up together.

But now, after those handful of visits, the woman had not returned, just like her person had not, and Snowlight was so tired.

She no longer snapped and scratched at the handlers, but now they could not coax her to eat more than the bare minimum, or play, or train.

They were good people, really; they just weren’t hers, and she wasn’t theirs. The people Snowlight wanted simply hadn’t come back.

Snowlight dozed in her stall, ignoring the sunny day and the other chocobos and handlers. Then a certain sound caught her attention, a familiar step. She blinked awake, catching a familiar scent, and kweh’d.

The woman rounded the corner and smiled as Snowlight bounced and trilled excitedly. The stable master followed, smiling too.

“Can’t say you don’t deserve it, though you sure this is the bird you want?”

The woman nodded, a giddiness to her usual calm presence that made Snowlight even more excited, too, though she did not know why. “I think she and I get along just fine,” the woman said to the stable master, turning finally to Snowlight. She scritched Snowlight’s neck. “I even have a name picked out. My brother and I used to come up with them as children, when dreaming of having our own chocobos.”

“Well much luck to you both,” he said, holding out his hand.

Snowlight trembled with excitement when she saw what he held; a whistle, just like the one her person used to have. The whistle that had tied them together, made her always able to find him--until she couldn’t.

The woman took the whistle, then looked back up at Snowlight. “Do you want to be my chocobo?” She asked, almost sounding nervous.

Snowlight thought about it. She had a person--once upon a time. He was gone now, but this woman was so much like him, possibly from the same clutch...So maybe it was all right. Maybe this person wouldn’t leave Snowlight behind--and if she did, Snowlight would do her best to find her.

After all, Snowlight was a good girl.

“Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight agreed, bouncing excitedly. She would be an adventuring bird with a person of her own again!

The woman grinned, and after a few moments, the spell was complete and the aetheric bond formed.

Snowlight’s new person led her out of the stable, accepting the fine reins and saddle the stable master offered. “After all you’ve done for Gridania, not to mention taking on Ifrit himself, it’s the very least we can do,” he insisted. “And I’m just happy to see this girl get a fresh start and a good home.” He patted Snowlight’s shoulder. “What are you gonna name her? For our own records.”

Her person smiled. “For a white bird my brother and I could never decide between our favorites, so we combined them,” she answered. “I’m going to call her Snowlight.”

“A fine name,” the stable master said.

“Kweh-Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight cheered, the last shadow of doubt faded; her new person even knew her name! This was the best day since…

Well, since her first person had chosen and named her.

Her person swung onto the saddle, thanking the stable master again. Then she leaned forward. “All right, girl; let’s go!”

Snowlight dashed out of Bentbranch, her person laughing on her back, to begin their adventures together.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Chocobo #Seventh Umbral Calamity #Kan-E-Senna #Warrior of Light #Lyn Writing #Snowlight #Zaine Striker #Aeryn Striker

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