#she's wearing his uni sweatshirt

[maraczeks]

bcs s2 thread pt 2

[fox-guardian]

I have thoughts and since I keep forgetting to draw it, I will write it out

✨️ fashion headcanons for the oiar crew ✨️

Alice (I've already drawn her but I'm adding it here again anyway):

General thoughts: she enjoys layers when possible, fits the "tiny top large bottoms" silhouette most often in her outfits, and tries to throw plaid/flannel into her outfits in some way as often as possible. It's a minor obsession. Jewelry-wise she's typically a silver girlie but is far from against mixing metals and likes wearing piercings with colorful plating

the oiar likely has a pretty solid dress code and I highly doubt she follows it, especially after having been there for nearly a decade

At work I think she keeps it relatively simple. Comfy flannel shirts and/or t-shirts, hoodie if she's cold, and maxi skirts or jeans. Sneakers. It's nothing super fun (the workplace doesn't deserve her at her most fabulous) but it's comfy

Jewelry is also kept simple, studs and plain rings for her ears (snakebites are a given). She also wears her fav bracelets

Outside of work she gets sillayyyy. Bit chunky jewelry, novelty pieces. More fun frilly skirts, some shorter ones. Her nicer outside-of-work looks are somewhere between "hippie" and "that one type of iconic fashionable older woman" she also wears makeup more often Outside of work

Concert attire varies but she gets more grungy with ripped/shredded pieces and band tees (obviously) and sluts it up with shorter skirts/shorts and cropped shirts

Fancy clothes are as 80s as possible. This woman owns multiple shoulder-padded button downs

Pajamas are usually basic sets (often mismatched) or just like. Old t shirt and underwear.

Sam:

General thoughts: priorities comfort and tries to stay comfy as much as possible. You have never felt a wardrobe more soft overall. He wears plain earrings and the occasional friendship bracelet, otherwise not much jewelry I also think he wears as little sock as possible (unless it's funny) (alice got on him for wearing socks with sandals one time back in uni and that's all he wore in front of her for months)

Idk what the exact dress code for the oiar would be, but assume he adheres as much as possible

Prefers soft cotton mocknecks/turtlenecks to crisp button downs, with a nice cardigan instead of a blazer. Trousers are sensible, but soft. He probably irons them

Casual outfits are. Very casual. Sweatpants and sweatshirts/pullovers.

Nicer outside of work outfits aren't very different from work outfits. Date nights might require jewelry (rings, maybe a chain or two). I think he's a gold guy

He does have like one nice suit for special occasions but he suffers through the stiff fabric

Pajamas are button-up sets or literally just his underwear.

Gwen:

General thoughts: this woman is so monochromatic to me. She's very "dark mode basic" if that makes sense. She's not trendy but her looks are always solid. Owns a lot of black. Most outfits are fitted and snug. Wears minimal jewelry and always silver (even though gold would look so good) has a secret love of nice vintage pieces

Work looks are professional and crisp. Pencil skirts, button downs, and a sensible sweater typically (its cold) and plan heels/booties. After having to flee from ink5oul her work wardrobe has graduated to Trousers And Flats For Booking It. Her "girlboss" outfit is a matching blazer/trouser combo

Casual outfits are still well put together. Enjoys miniskirts and tights (if she's feeling bold she'll wear tights with a pattern) and off-the-shoulder tops. Wears basic chokers and slightly more jewelry overall. If she's feeling balls to the walls INSANE she might wear a dark red lip.

She doesn't really have a nicer vs comfy casual wardrobe, so all that's left is special occasion stuff. A nice dress for get togethers with "friends". An especially nice vintage coat she snagged. These pieces might have color other than gray maybe.

Pajamas. Hm. I think she would either have simple button down sets or frilly nightgowns. She definitely dreams of having a nightgown fit for touring a haunted castle I think

Celia:

General thoughts: butch <3 she has learned she really likes the look and feel of a more masculine shape and fit to her clothes after getting a hard reset on her identity. She doesnt wear a lot of jewelry outside her ear and facial piercings, and it is all gold, and she also has snakebites but prefers studs (slightly less enticing for babies to grab than hoops)

Work outfits are nice. Vests and trousers, with the occasional cardigan if it's cold.

Casual outfits are jeans and nice fitted t-shirts. A denim jacket perhaps. I also think she works out in some capacity so there's shorts and muscle tanks also (no bras ever, shits shwangin)

Nicer outside of work stuff.... I don't think she owns any special occasion things right now?? She simply would not have an occasion/reason to have them yet maybe. Maybe she gets a fancy vest for date night idk. She'd probably signify This Is A Special Occasion with nice bracelets and rings. Maybe a neck chain.

Pajamas are usually t-shirts and lounge bottoms/comfy shorts. She is forced to be fully dressed lest she teleport in her sleep while half/fully naked

Lena:

General thoughts: this is already so difficult. I think she would dress very practically. No jewelry unless you count her glasses chain, no skirts, and only very short heels/flats. She keeps proper walking shoes with her if need be.

Work fits. She has a whole power suit in my brain that's just a matching white blazer and trousers, and then the red button down. The white is the biggest power move. I think she has a few of these in different colors (black and iron grey) but the white one is the main one.

Casual.... I don't even know man. Probably also practical over pretty. Probably only wears men's pants due to the pockets. Probably owns a very practical leather jacket. Whatever she wears, she does numbers at the lesbian bars

Nicer out of work clothes.... probably not much different than her work clothes. She may tolerate a dress if she needs to attend a wedding.

Pajamas: she either has the button up sets. Wears an old t-shirt and bottoms from a bygone era of her life and both are full of holes. Or she sleeps butt ass naked with a gun in her hand.

Colin:

General thoughts: office dress code can kiss his ass. He's comfortable but practical, and I think he enjoys graphic tees. He has silver earrings and maybe a secret body piercing but doesn't wear anything else visible. He doesn't really bother with buying new jewelry but wouldn't care about mixing metals if he did.

He wears jeans to work, graphic tees, and a button down so he can call it business casual. Sneakers also. Programmer socks (gift from alice) The jeans are ripped (partially from crawling on his knees dealing with the computers so often) and he patched them up. I think he's big on mending. Also sews his name into items he may leave unattended (thank you merch drop for this idea)

Casual isn't much different. Maybe no button down, maybe he keeps it for flair. At home he wears pants/trousers as little as possible I think. The programmer socks stay on tho.

Nicer outside of work stuff. He owns like one suit.

Pajamas: butt ass naked. If he's cold he just gets more blankets.

Teddy:

General thoughts: thank you alice for pointing out that teddy wears shades of pink im gonna eat this. I also think he wears gold jewelry and those would look so nice together so I am Extra Eating This. Beyond this I don't have toooo many thoughts? I think he enjoys fashion. Knows what different cuts of items will do for him. He likes piecing together a solid Fit even if it's simple.

Work fits include button downs and sweaters, with the classic argyle vest. I think he would enjoy a fun pattern.

Casual fits are practical but stylish, and I think he considers himself legally required to buy anything with Teddy bears on it that fits him. I think he wears light jewelry even on more casual days, he likes to sparkle a bit.

Nicer out of work fits. I think he owns a couple shiny button downs. Does it up with the gold jewelry, chains, rings, a nice watch, the woiks. He has at least one funky patterned pair of pants.

Pajamas: usually sticks to old tshirts and comfy bottoms, has like one button up set that's Christmas themed (twas a gift) that he only wears that time of year, and one (1) legally mandated teddy bear onesie.

those are the vibes. They are subject to change as we learn more ofc but here they are <3

[russellsppttemplates]

accidentally walking into the room when liam is on a livestream and fans go crazy over you wear his sweatshirt

The house was colder than usual but yet not cold enough that would justify you turning on the heating or lighting the fireplace, you thought, going to the bedroom to find something cosy and warm to wear. Looking through your wardrobe, one of your boyfriend's black sweatshirts stood out to you, making you grab it and immediately put it on, enjoying the way his cologne wrapped around you and warmed you up. Moving to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea so you could go to the office and study, you couldn't help but wonder if Liam wanted one too.

You heard commotion in his game room when you went to get the sweater, so you got a second mug, figuring that in the unlikely event that he would turn the warm drink down, you'd just have two cups of tea yourself. The warm mug rested on your hands and you walked up to meet him, carefully opening the door so it wouldn't spill and seeing your boyfriend playing.

"Hey, love", he said, taking off his headset, "hey, I made you some tea. I just got home and felt chilly, so I made some", you stretched your arms, not noticing the camera was on and that he was streaming.

"Is this a good time to tell you that I'm on a stream?", he cringed as he saw your wide eyes, "hey! You should've told me from the beggining", you hissed, awkwardly waving to the camera as he sipped on the warm drink, "hey guys!".

The comments stated showing up, catching your attention as Liam pulled you to sit on his lap.

She's wearing his sweatshirt!

Hi Y/N! How are you?

I'm also tired af after uni but Y/N still looks flawless, teach me how you do it pls

I also wanted a tea but I'm home alone, sounds like I have to get it myself then

The way she just has his clothing on and still looks incredible, just look at them

It's the look of love

Lord, it's me again

"Sounds like they like having you here, too", Liam said, kissing your neck as you both looked that the screen, "yes, his sweatshirt smells nice, don't worry. I made sure it was one of the ones I washed on the weekend", you teased.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[taraljc]

I feel kind of bad for Jay because instead of watching his extreme sports race being live streamed his little brother is spending that time almost exclusively in Alex and Jack's kitchen, waiting to find out is going to survive his trip to Bath.

I also greatly appreciate that the wardrobe of the series actually has a lot of pieces that show up over and over again all through three seasons. Tom's hideous cardigan of course immediately comes to mind and his colour-block windbreaker. Also love that Alex and John are shown wearing almost identical sweatshirts and corduroy jackets in the reenactment on the bridge scenes.

The penultimate episode of the series is so weird because of the time cut. First you have Alex being dropped home presumably quite early in the morning as the autopsy files Yassen sent to Julia were from 8:00 a.m. and then when Alex is showered and changed and has his first kiss with Kyra it's dinner time so he must have crashed and slept for a while (which makes sense given he probably has not slept much if at all in the last 2 days).

Then by the time he gets back from wherever that bridge is, Tom has gone home and Kyra is asleep and Jack is waiting up for him in the kitchen with a cup of tea and her bonnet on which means you know that she is ready to fall into bed any second and also A++ costumeing for including Jack's bonnet!

Anyhow inside my head, Jay placed third in his race but has a sprained wrist, Tom becomes his official videographer, and Alex's belated 18th birthday party (since he spent his actual 18th birthday having the living shit kicked out of him by the SCORPIA cadets) is an incredibly quiet private affair where Jack makes her famous call to the local for take-away for dinner and Tom finally gets Alex to agree to a Seven Samurai and Ghost Dog double feature.

Also we now know that from the 12th of April 2021 (the last day of series 2) to the 6 February 2023, in between searching for SCORPIA and the Widow, Alex and Tom are in Sixth Form and sat their GCSE exams. Mrs Jones specifically references Alex applying to the Security Services after uni, and Tom is also hoping to go to uni so he can study film but his grades are dismal and he is concerned.

[causewayguy]

‘Escuse me, young sirr. Arre you done with your food sirr?’

Jessa, my maid cum housemate, smiled at me while bending down slightly to collect my empty dinner plate. Unseen by my father, who was on the phone with his work, Jessa laid her palm on my inner thigh and gave me a gentle squeeze - just enough for a reaction in my boxers. She smiled suggestively at me and before bringing the dishes into the kitchen.

Long story short, my mum passed away when I was young and there is only my dad and I. Recently, my dad rented out our small room to Jessa, a Filipino student, who agreed to do some lighter chores to reduce rent (save on our weekly cleaning service).

This is every JC boy’s dream – living and sharing toilet with Uni beauty. Look at her pictures also know Jessa is not those conservative kind – wearing tanks, spaghetti tops, cotton. Best thing is her accent. Every time she rolls her R feels like her tongue rolling across my cock, sure marikita.

It all started when we bumped into each other in the middle of the night. I was having a glass of water in the kitchen and Jessa came in, all sweaty and dishevelled in just her pink top and panties. I was busy staring at her almost exposed chest that I did not realize she has moved within touching distance. I groaned out loud as she licked her lips and pushed her hand into my boxers. Within seconds, I was balls deep in her, fucking her right on the kitchen top while holding one leg up. We have been screwing ever since.

‘Boy ah, I need to go back the university to settle some issues. Will be back late. You see what Jessa needs, then help her.’

Before my dad closed the front door, I was already up and going into the kitchen. Jessa must have heard my dad leave, because there she was sitting on the counter top with just her top on, her legs spread wide open showing the world her juicy pussy. She has that horny look on her face again, slowly unbuttoning her blue sweatshirt showing me her braless perfect tits.

‘Arre you herre to help me, young sir? Please, my bagina need your tick cock…’

Jessa moaned to me as she starts fondling her tits. I dived between her legs, working my tongue on her delicious pussy lips. Every time my nose teased her clit, her body would shiver and she pushed my head harder onto her crotch. As Jessa got more and more aroused, her juices began to pool at her pussy lips, as if telling me she’s ready for my 2ic.

I dropped my pants and slowly squished my hard dick into her wet entrance. I started with only slow thrusts to get used to her tightness. After feeling her relaxed around my cock, we started to fuck harder and harder. Her favourite is when I pull out and slam my full length back into her. As I concentrated to make sure my cock doesn’t leave her pussy, Jessa’s moans turned into screams of pleasure and she started to squeeze my hand holding her waist.

My arousal level doubled when I looked up at Jessa. Her perfect C-cup boobs jiggled every time I thrusted hard into her. But the most arousing part was her facial expression, full of pleasure with her mouth hanging open screaming out in Tagalog. The whole picture was as though I was in a Filipino-dubbed JAV movie where the son fucks the maid. I started to reach my peak so I quickened my pace. Jessa noticed the change in my breathing so she quickly wrapped her legs around my waist. Finally, I reached my limit and exploded 4 bursts of my warm, hard-worked cum inside Jessa.

We kissed and frenched while hugging each other to calm our pounding heartbeats. She moved her lips towards my ear and whispered:

‘Young Sirr, you make me so komfortabol….much better than your daddi…’

I could hear the smirk in her voice as I realized what she just said.

*****************************

Part 2?

[nuatthebeach]

"i'll give you another chance."

part 2 of the compilation "come let's walk for miles." feel free to ask me a quote-themed prompt here on tumblr for more!

comment here on ao3.

"I'm sorry I called you a slut."

"Jesus. Yeah, security!"

Of all the chemistry readings Ginny was subjected to in the film industry, none were as predictable as the one she had today. Golden spun hair, cerulean blue eyes, and a strong jaw, Cormac McLaggen may be on the front page of Hollywood's Hottest Hot Shots year to year, but Ginny considers herself quite confident in her ability to tell the sleazy, spoiled child actor apart from the less sleazy but equally spoiled manchild.

Call it intuition or continuous bad luck, but she only picks up roles that offer these readings for a reason.

"Just name the price, and we can keep this incident on the down low!"

Exhibit A himself, calling out to save face, getting dragged out the door by his own agent.

When Ginny no longer is able to see McLaggan's ridiculously built shoulders in view, she slumps down in her chair and massages her temples.

"Again, I am so sorry about that," her casting director Hermione apologizes, handing her a bottle of water. Ginny flicks open the cap and takes deep gulps, hoping the cool drink will wash the sliminess she feels inside. "His agent warned us that he would play into every stereotype of an entitled actor, but…"

"He's a big name. Big bucks," Ginny mutters in between sips. "You wanted to try your chances, I get it. Just bring in the next guy."

Hermione's sheepish smile turns into a grimace. "Are you sure? This next one's a…"

Ginny raises her eyebrows. "Tax auditor? Zebra?" Hermione snorts. "So long as he's not a dick, I'm okay. I don't care if he's not well-known. Call him in."

Glaring down at her script, she doesn't bother to fix her slouched position, having seen the word lunch printed in black ink earlier that day. Damn, how long has she sat there for? Is today pizza or chicken pesto day? For some reason, she always gets the two confused. Honestly, what she wouldn't give for one of those American oreo milkshakes right about now…maybe she could fit in time for a quick drive-through after all this –

A voice clears its throat.

She starts a bit, ceasing her pen-clicking. Then, she lifts her lashes up from her script. And looks at the next auditionee.

He dresses differently from McLaggen, to say the least. Instead of designer leather jackets and styled, product-filled hair, he wears Champion sweatshirts and dark, messy locks that remind Ginny of raking leaves on a foggy autumn day.

Of fingers teasing scalps and silk threaded sheets.

She shakes her head swiftly.

"Hi."

Ginny straightens, stretching out her hand to shake his. Warm, large. "Hi, er…" She glances down at the call sheet. "Harry Potter. Nice to meet you. Says here you've been a stunt double for several years?"

That would explain the callouses.

"Yeah," Harry shifts on his foot, glancing around the room like he's nervous to be the center of attention. Hmm. Seems in poor taste to be here of all places, but okay.

"What made you want to switch to acting in the first place?" She figures that's a safe enough place to start.

But he only crosses his arms with such obvious discomfort that Ginny fights a cringe, already planning out the words to her polite rejection in her head. He starts speaking, and her wariness only becomes worse. "Acting has been my passion since I was young." Kill me. "From taking on leads in uni theater plays" —do not groan, do not groan—  "stunt doubling in twenty action and horror films, thinking quick on my feet in improv scenes – "

Maybe it's the long day she's had. Maybe it's the sexist twat she had the displeasure of meeting half an hour ago. Maybe it's her craving for oreo milkshakes. Or maybe it's a combination of all three.

But all she knows is that one second she's bored out of her mind, and the next: "If I wanted to hear a list of all your qualifications, mate, I would've reread your CV."

Great. How can she talk badly about spoiled actors when she's behaving like the poster child of one now? Maybe she should call McLaggen and they can start up a support group together. AA for Actors Astray.

Ginny opens her mouth to apologize profusely (and then apologize again after telling him that regardless, he's still not fit for the job) when she sees the man press his lips together.

And hide an amused smile.

"Er," Ginny widens her eyes, thrown off guard. Suddenly, for reasons entirely unknown to her, her intuition whispers for her to give him another chance. "I'll give you another chance." Right on the nose, her intuition. "Just be yourself. Same question.”

A pause more pregnant than a three-humped camel. And then:

"Honestly, I was getting tired risking paralysis falling arse over tits for yet another low-budget film. At least now I'll get paid properly for it."

The laugh that escapes Ginny bubbles out before she can help it, bathing in warmth at Harry's slightly surprised grin in response.

She eyes the witty gleam of his green stare and notes how he hasn't once gushed over her presence since arriving on set. Not much of a celebrity worshipper then. Good.

Just like that, the decision is made before she's conscious of it.

"Right, okay. Sit," Ginny juts her chin to the seat across from her and lifts her script to a comfortable reading position. "Let's see if all that sass is worth something in the end."

He shoots her a grateful but determined smile. Blazing, to match her own. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

She'll take his word for it.

xxx

Turns out, Harry can act his bollocks off. And not just the reading-off-the-script type of acting, though he can do that plenty as well.

They make the tabloids and so do the pics of them walking about the streets, hands swinging between them like a terribly kept secret. When paps ask if they're dating, she simply adds, "And we're fucking too." And when they startle at her audacity, she and Harry break into a giggling, breathless run, white lights flashing from behind like in the movies.

At the premiere, they poke fun at each other's improvised lines ("We should huddle closer a bit…you know, for warmth." "You should have brought a fucking jacket then.") and crack up at shots taken out of context ("That sort of looks like you in the morning." "Shut up, Harry.").

Oh, and there's milkshakes too. Loads of them. Though, he likes the strawberry one, the weirdo.

[heavenzscent]

what are some of your jeankasa modern au hcs? ☺️ and i’m kind of curious what you think their respective fashion styles r like

I’ll start with Fashion :

As for fashion styles : I’ve made two posts showing how I think they would dress.

Mikasas style : X

As a child she likes girly sort of cottage core clothes and overalls. In HS she goes through a goth phase, more in a 80s/ 90s goth then an early 2000s mall/ hot topic sort of way. But she did enjoy getting accessories at hotopic and twilight sleepy shirts. By the end of HS and Uni she is mostly in aethlesure. She was so many sets. She still wears dark liner as a nod to her old style and she’s back to gravitating to pinks , and blues again. She is a silver girl for sure. She wears a lot of jewelry even if she’s wearing a unitard and a hoodie. She manages to never look messy somehow. Her crazy bed head is her best kept secret only Sasha ,Armin and Eren know about it. Her makeup bag is expensive but kinda bare bones. She wouldn’t be the type to have a makeup room.

Jeans style: X

As a child he would get dressed by his mom like a little dork alot of sweater vests. In HS I think he would dress a bit accurate to bad boy Jean in Isayamas school castes. I think he would try to break free of his mothers styling choices for him.

In Uni he would find himself. Jean loves gold. He is the type to ask for gold for every special occasion. He has a gold Cuban chain that he never takes off. He has some diamond studs but he only wears them to parties and Connie teases him.

He gravitates towards , preppy /sporty sort of clothes with a 80’s and 90s influence. Think Tommy Hilfiger and college sweatshirts / caps. He also wears a lot of work wear and takes alot of inspo from people like James Dean, Paul Newman . And generally old Americana and music videos.

He would actually be surprisingly articulate in fashion.

He loves dressing up but acts really nonchalant when people comment on his clothes. Although He once sliced his food budget in half for 2 months so he could buy a dressy coat. Any vacation he goes on he looks up the shopping first then food places.

HEAD CANONS

Jean and Mikasa are both really involved in university extra curriculars and they make it look easy.

Mikasa finds Jean a little over bearing at first but since she sees him at so many community and Uni events she gets to know him and actually finds him kinda funny when he isn't trying and reliable.

Jean was in a frat for his first semester before he decided it was dumb because someone was rude to Marco.

Mikasa and Marco really get along and that makes Jean jealous at first when then were all just friends.

Marco and Sasha finally get Jean and Mikasa confident enough to ask eachother out

Jean spent a whole day learning how to change car oil because Mikasa complained about the price one time. Then he casually dropped that he had been tired because he been changing his car oil earlier and if anyone needed their oil changed they could hit him up. Unfortunatly that meant everyone else in the firend group now gets free oil changes now.

Mikasa is never on socials and Jean is on them too much

Mikasa has a extremely clean car but the trunk is basically a storage unit

Both spend too much when they go shopping

Jean turns anything and everything into a date. Barnes and noble date ! Study date ! Errand date ! Taco Bell date !

Everyone thinks Jean and Mikasa are just some odd opposites attract fling . When they move in it’s a shock ! When they get engaged it’s a shock!

Have more but those are connected to my neglected Uni AU fic.

[nade2308]

What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?

I believe these were for Will and Connor.

1.

Will: When Connor wakes up from a nightmare he usually tries not to show it so as to not wake Will up, but Will can tell and then he slowly wraps himself around Connor until Connor decides to talk about the nightmare. If not, Will just keep holding until Connor's breathing evens out.

Connor: He would try and calm Will down. I think he's had a lot of experience because of all the things that happened to Will throughout the years and all the trauma he carries. He is treading carefully at first because often it takes time to snap Will out of the nightmare. But once he has calmed, Connor hugs him and maybe even sings to Will until he falls back asleep.

2.

Will: Absolutely. Even though Connor is smaller than him, his shoulders are broad and he has clothes from his Uni days that Will likes to steal. He might be getting clothes a size bigger than his own because he enjoys Will stealing them, but don't tell Will that.

Connor: he enjoys wearing Will's sweaters. Will's mom knitted him many sweaters while she was still alive and when they started disappointing from Will's closet, Connor sheepishly admitted that he was wearing them.

3.

Bad Habits by Daughtry

4.

Getting snowed in together. They would snuggle at home and watch Christmas movies and soft blankets and drink hot cocoa.

5.

Will would definitely dance while making food. It's something he was doing with his mom when he helped her in the kitchen. Connor loves watching Will dance, and occasionally joins in. They manage a couple of songs before food is done.

Thank you for your ask

[fabqng]

valentine💌

[re]posted on twitter by user <retracted>. captioned: “quinn’s tumblr update year 201x”

i have found my one true love!

today is the 14th of february! very unusual but as it turned out, it was a very busy day for everyone. i am not an exception so isn’t my boyfriend, mike. I was very upset as it was our first valentine.

7 p.m when i finally had the free time to check my phone. [ 5 unread messages] all from the same person.

happy valentines day, love!

not done yet? :(

can i call?

i was so busy earlier too! a lot of people are dating here! i’m jealous haha

i’m at your lib’s lobby! i figured you’d be here by this time…

sudden guilt got in to my system, and i felt my eyes heating up. i was so touched by the messages i just read and the gestures he kept showing. he’s always been like this. always making time for me.

I went to our university’s library’s front desk right away to meet my boyfriend. When I reached the area i spotted his back right away. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers, his usual. I hugged him from behind that startled him. He then turned to face me and put his arms around me.

“Hey!” He greeted. “ i miss you today!”

“I missed you too! Happy Valentines Day, babe” i said pouting my lips

“Haha happy valentines day, love!” He then withdraw from our hug and grab something from his pocket.

“So last minute gift, I saw this yesterday and was reminded by you. Sorry I was just really occupied in uni” he said while locking the necklace he got me on my neck

“But babe! I didn’t get you any! Not that I forgot! I’m just clueless what to get you. You already got everything”

“Exactly! I got everything i needed. I got you, that’s more than enough”

“But babeee!!”

“Love, don’t worry about it. I don’t care about gifts”

He finished up putting the necklace on me and i gave it a look

“Oh the lego obsession is back” I said making us both laugh

“But what is this? A door or something?”

“What!? Hahahah no it’s half of something” he confesses

“Half of what?”

“Half a heart” he said while taking out the necklace he’s wearing.

He stacked the two lego piece together and it really did make a heart.

“But why is it green?” I suddenly asked

“Because Red is overrated plus did you know Green meant sincerity? This “door” is to remind you how sincere I am” he said forming a little smirk on his lips.

He’s always detailed oriented. It’s one of the many things I’ve noticed and loved about him. He always makes sure that his messages are well conveyed.

<post too long>

caption: [edit] the account was private made public then private again. the post was saved in my notes for a long time now but this is the first time I’ve noticed it was missing a part. i can’t find the original post anymore but basically she ended the post saying how mike comforted her while she confessed to be stressing about the major she’s studying lol. If anyone else saved the full original post please DM me so i could add it on the thread, ty!

[babybluebex]

Eddie trys to tutor you as you are struggling with a uni paper?

oh wow i heavy relate to this, also COLLEGE EDDIE MY LOVE

Knock, knock, knock. Even as you knocked on his door, you realized how stupid the decision was. He was just a guy in your literature lecture, and, if you remembered correctly from the first day of term, where the professor went around the room and made everyone introduce themselves and their majors, he was an accounting major. He likely was only taking this course as general education course, just something to fulfill his degree requirements. Why were you knocking on his door for help with the paper?

Before you had much more time to beat yourself up over it, the dorm room door opened a little to show the guy you knew as Edward Nashton. You had never been right up next to him— he sat towards the back of the lecture hall and never raised his hand or spoke— but the way he towered over you made your mouth go dry. His hair was long, brushing at his shoulders, and he wore a pair of wire-framed glasses with thick lenses. He was handsome up close, with his little freckles and the pink pout of his lips, and he stared at you for a second before he blinked, his owlish eyes popping like a flashbulb. His eyes were green.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

You were just standing silent in his doorway, staring at him, after all. "Sorry, yeah," you said quickly, clearing your throat. "Um, you're in Dr. Frank's World Lit class, right? Like, Lit 110 or whatever?"

Edward nodded. "You are too," he told you. "I remember you. You've always got something to say."

You shrugged, a little put out that he seemed to be insulting you. Maybe he was secretly a huge asshole and it was a blessing in disguise that he never spoke. "Yeah," you mumbled. "Do you... Um, have you started the paper?"

Edward nodded again. "Finished it," he said in a clipped voice. "Why?"

"I'm just struggling with it a bit," you said, and felt your face go all hot with shame. "I just, uh, need someone to use as a sounding board, y'know? I tried my roommate, but she's not in the class so she doesn't really get it, a-and it would be a huge help if you just... I don't know, listened to my idea? Tell me if it's terrible or whatever."

Edward seemed to take a second to consider the offer, smoothing his hand up the door jamb. "I didn't mean that as a bad thing," he said. "Like, the whole 'you've always got something to say'. That wasn't a dig. You've always got something good to say."

"Thanks," you said. "So you'll help?"

"Sure," Edward said, and he disappeared behind his door for a moment before returning, now holding his keys. "As long as you've got something good to say."

It felt weird to have Edward sitting at your desk. Your room was usually your safe space and, besides your roommate occasionally, nobody ever came in there. It felt odd to have someone else occupy your space, let alone someone you knew so little about. You weren't even sure if Nashton was his last name.

"Okay, so I was thinking," you started. "Since we read Hamlet for so long, that I'd talk about the role of the supernatural in it. Like, the ghost of the king and everything, really talk about him."

"Sounds good," Edward said, picking at a thread on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "It's a good start."

"Start?" you echoed. "No, that's it. Just... Talk about the ghost and how he moves Hamlet forward."

"But that's not all he does," Edward told you. "The ghost is there to advance the plot, yeah, but he's also there to, like, showcase the sadness in the play and tell us where Hamlet's morals lie."

You frowned and folded your legs up underneath yourself on your bed. "Hamlet doesn't have morals," you said.

"Yeah, he does," Edward argued. "They're loose and they're not our morals, but he does have them. Like, um, what is it he says about the serpent that stung his father wears his crown now or whatever? It's telling us what Hamlet thinks of Claudius: he hates him, and he thinks that everything Claudius does is bad."

There was something attractive about the way that Edward seemed ti puff up as he explained everything to you. He seemed to grow in size, asserting himself and his words and making himself important. You kinda liked it. You liked what he was saying a lot more, though, and you quickly tapped it into your computer.

"And the sadness?" you asked.

Edward shrugged and pushed his glasses up his thin nose with a single finger. "What do you think?" he asked. "It's your paper, after all."

You sat and stewed on his question for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what your opinions were, and you finally said, "Yeah, it's sad. If my dad died and haunted me, I'd be pretty upset. Wouldn't you?"

"I guess," Edward said, and he suddenly seemed to put his walls back up in an instant. His puffed chest seemed to disappear back into his body, and he fiddled with his glasses again. "I didn't know my dad too well."

"Oh, shit," you mumbled. "I'm sorry. Did he—"

"I don't like talking about it," Edward said quickly. "But, I guess, yeah, if my dad came and haunted me or whatever, I'd be sad. And probably pissed too."

"Sorry," you uttered softly. "I, um... Yeah. Hamlet's dad haunting him is really sad, and it's sad how we just kinda accept it. Like, this is really tragic and we just don't ask questions. What does that say about us?"

Edward shrugged. "What does it say?" he asked.

You couldn't help but think about your snafu and how you had obviously upset Edward, and you closed your laptop slowly. "Thanks for your help," you said. "I appreciate it. I, um... I'm sorry about your dad."

"It was a long time ago," Edward told you with a heavy sigh. "I was a baby. I don't... I don't think I know his name, even. But whatever. There's really nothing to be sorry about, there's no condolences to give or whatever."

"And your mom?"

"Car accident," Edward said. "Took 'em both. I grew up in an orphanage. It was... Not good. Gotham could definitely afford to spare a little money towards the Wayne's orphanage... So, yeah, if my parents decided to haunt me or whatever, I'd be pretty weirded out about it. Not as weird as Hamlet—" he paused to laugh, a high-pitched sort of half-giggle, like he was really trying to laugh. "But, yeah. Whatever."

"That's not whatever, Ed," you said, and he popped his flashbulb eyes at you. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say, that's awful."

"That's why I don't like talking about it," Edward said. "People always try to say something. What do you say to that anyway? 'Sorry for your loss'? How can you lose something you never really had?"

"Well," you started, swallowing thickly. "I won't say anything then. Forget I started that conversation. Thanks for your help on the paper, by the way."

"Anytime," Edward shrugged. He stood up, obviously done and ready to go, but he hesitated as he palmed his keychain. "Um. Feel free to say no, I won't be surprised if you did. But... do you wanna grab some coffee or something? Sometime, before lecture?"

You couldn't help but smile, and you shifted off your bed to stand closer to him. "Sure," you said, and you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek before you could think better of it. Edward smiled then, a real smile, and you could see the flush in his cheek radiate from where you had kissed him. "I'd love to."

[coeurdastronaute]

Royalty 3

Previously on Royalty

The palace hadn’t changed much since the arrival of the now former-princess. It was always run with a small staff and comfortable quarters for the king and his daughter, as they chose to keep it an intimate place where they could feel normal for a few hours from time to time. While the head butler was even more scrutinizing of those who came and went to the private chambers, protective over his beloved king and princess even more-so, the change went relatively unnoticed by the inhabitants, as such changes were meant to be. 

When her mother died, Lexa didn’t leave her room for weeks save for the mandatory duties of her position which she managed to survive by pinching herself black and blue to alleviate the pain that threatened to tear apart her heart, right there in her chest in front of the ambassador from Lithuania. But she had fresh sheets every time she returned, a kindness she wasn’t sure who, or even how, to thank some one for once she woke up from the grief-imposed stupor. It did make her more aware of those around her every day. It became very quickly evident that her home was a safe space. 

For weeks, Clarke walked around, in the same kind of stupor Lexa knew too well. Still, she thanked the kindness of those who worked there, smiling as best she could. Lexa liked to watch her, now more than ever, because she could, because for the first time in their entire lives, Clarke was her’s; while she’d been, irrevocably and without regard, entirely Clarke’s from the moment they met when they were five years old. It did break her heart, to see her so lost and unsure of herself, despite Lexa’s best intentions. 

With a sigh, Lexa flipped the page in the newspaper, once again seeing Clarke as the target of the speculation: ‘Missing Princess?’ and ‘Love in the time of Royalty’ and other nonsense dissecting the decision she made. She was heralded as a hero. They both were still the talk of the town. The press from her own country had been a truly mixed bag though, and Lexa did her best to stop the delivery of those papers, but it was impossible when the internet existed, when ‘friends’ appeared from no where to comment. 

But Clarke was there. She was sitting in Lexa’s favorite chair by the fire place in the study, her leg dangling over one arm, moving it slightly from time to time as she flipped a page in a book that she must have found thoroughly enthralling. At this rate, she’d read the entire library, Lexa was certain, she thought as she looked over the top of her paper. 

There was still that feeling though, she also realized, as she watched Clarke’s bare foot wiggle, her other leg contorted under her in a way that must have been comfortable for how absolutely uncomfortable it looked. This burning in her chest. It seemed to climb up her neck and burn her ears sometimes. Her girlfriend was wearing her old uni sweatshirt. She was fingering the next page, eager to move though her eyes weren’t capable of moving quickly enough. 

Lexa could not, with any degree of hope, want to be in her place more. She was prepared to give it all away. She would rather bear it. 

She looked back down at her paper and read about how they’d been cooped up for nearly two months, minus a few of her unavoidable stops. She looked back at her girlfriend, unable to keep her eyes off of her for too long, only to be met with warm blue staring back at her. She blushed, despite herself, despite knowing this woman for decades. Clarke didn’t look away. She stared and grinned, not saying anything either. Lexa watched helplessly as she licked her lips and folded the corner of her page, closing the book in her lap. 

“Good book?” Lexa managed to squeak. 

“Very.” 

“What’s it about?” 

“Ancient myths.” 

“Ah, the best kind. Modern ones are incredibly flat.” 

“I’m kind of sick of reading at the moment.”

“What would you like to do?” 

Lexa let her paper sag before politely folding it and setting it aside as Clarke lifted herself out fo the chair, gracefully approaching and waiting expectantly. The log on the fire cracked, but neither moved until the newspapers were pushed away and Lexa uncrossed her legs, allowing a lap to be slid into, something Clarke was an absolute expert on doing, the princess was coming to understand-- the sliding in laps thing. 

“You look very good in these glasses, you know?” Clarke ventured, carefully taking the frames from Lexa’s face and putting them on herself and making a face before pulling them off and placing them on the arm of the couch. “You’ve had the same stubborn furrow when you’re thinking too hard, since you were born, I think.” 

Lexa snorted at the accusation, prepared to fight it, until hands moved up her chest and to her shoulders and then her neck. Thumbs slid up behind her ears, rubbing gently where her glasses were once pinching. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Just been trying not to look at you. You look good here, with me,” Lexa mumbled, her eyes drifting shut with the gentle ministrations while her hands grabbed Clarke’s hips tightly. “I could get used to this.” 

“You might have to,” Clarke chuckled. “I’m kind of squatting here with no where else to go.” 

“Is that the only reason you’re staying?” 

“No,” she whispered, leaning closer until she was hovering over Lexa’s lips. “I’m here for us. The most ancient and wonderful myth of all time.” 

“All time?” 

“If a sword was involved, it might have been.” 

“I’ll try to russel one up,” Lexa offered, gripping tighter. 

By the time Clarke kissed her, Lexa was certain she forgot how to read, and she’d never look at another newspaper again. Because in that kiss was the kind of truth that she was certain might have been a little mythical. 

Clarke pulled away slightly and grinned-- it was that grin-- the same grin that got them in trouble when they were twelve, and stole the horses from the wagon at the Christmas celebration, riding them bareback through the woods, bells jingling like festive ghosts while everyone searched for them-- it was that grin that made Lexa melt. It was that grin that made her follow Clarke around for their entire lives. 

Slowly Clarke sat back, no longer pushing forward, relaxing as she held her girlfriend’s cheeks and jaw. She ran her thumb along lips before feeling hands slip once again to her ass. 

“What would you like to do?” Clarke whispered, knowing full well the kind of reaction she could elicit if she just put her mind to it. 

“We could go out to dinner? My favorite chef just opened her own place downtown by the art museum,” Lexa offered. “What?” she mumbled as Clarke noticeably sunk. 

“I’m in your lap. I think my intentions were pretty clear.” 

“You haven’t left this place in weeks.” 

“Yes, as I have shamed an entire country and lineage of fifteen hundred years.”

“You have to eat at some point.” 

“I’m plenty fed here.” 

“Clarke,” Lexa sighed. Hands shifted from her neck to her chest as her girlfriend braced herself there, no longer vying to be close. “You can’t hide forever.” 

“Can’t I?” she taunted with a smile. “I’m doing fairly well at it so far.” 

But Lexa was steadfast, much to Clarke’s chagrin. She hated that about her, in the way that she could never actually hate it, just be annoyed by her girlfriend’s inevitable and ridiculously stern code of conduct. She reached up to rub the furrow that so often plagued Lexa’s brow. 

“I’m not ready,” she admitted finally, softening Lexa’s cheeks and eyes somewhat. It was the truth, and a hard one for her to admit. “I’m sorry, I just--”

“No-- it’s okay. No rushing. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you here. I want to do whatever you want. I-- there’s no rulebook you know?”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” 

“I want you to be happy. I’ve made you miserable, and Iwant to do anything I can to make you happy again.” 

“You’ve never made me miserable,” Clarke disagreed softly. “I’ve done a good job of that to myself and you for a long time. Freedom isn’t a burden. Your love isn’t a punishment.” 

The words seemed to have their intended effect, though Lexa’s hands held on tightly still, afraid to move or let go. She was still walking that line of dreaming and awake, and was deathly afraid of losing everything she’d ever wanted. 

“You do look cute in those glasses. It’s been hard to concentrate.”

“You have the libido of a teenager,” Lexa rolled her eyes. 

“I’ve repressed it for so long. The dam has burst.” 

Before Lexa could say anything, Clarke covered her mouth with her hand. 

“No dyke jokes.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

She was in Prague, according to all official reports. She was in Prague doing some volunteer work at a small organization for orphans or something. That was what the official itinerary said, and more importantly, it was what her girlfriend had been told about the quick trip. 

But Lexa wasn’t in Prague. 

She wasn’t even in the Czech Republic. 

Instead, she was standing on the soil of perhaps her family’s oldest allies, but that she, in her own mind, would consider a hostile nation. But still, she stood in the large office, with the giant windows that looked out toward the ancient town, and she knotted her hands behind her back, patiently waiting for her audience with the king. It might have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done, and that was saying a lot considering she showed up to the wedding of the girl she loved and was convinced to run away with her, uprooting an entire ancien--

“I do not have long,” the voice boomed as the body followed, striding in quickly, hands full of a file of papers, suit perfectly crisp. 

“And I do not want much of your time,” Lexa responded coldly, waiting for the flurry of activity to stop and the king to situate himself behind his desk, for the singular advisor that was allowed in, to close the door behind them. 

Jacob was tall. Taller than his daughter. And though Clarke had long since learned how to make her eyes warm and full of light, he had long since forgotten, overrun by a crippled transportation network and the long nights of a trucking strike with border issues to the south. It showed. The light brown of his hair was dull, and his jaw seemed perpetually strained under the gnashing he seemed to do. 

“Please,” he motioned to the chair, and finally Lexa took a seat as he did across from her. 

A coat of arms hung behind him, menacing and pointy, in her own opinion. Clarke used to tell her stories about each part of it, so that she seemed to memorize it more than her own back home. 

Lexa crossed her legs and relaxed into the seat as she’d been trained to do. She was effortless and nonplussed. She had the moral authority and it made her feel powerful, to be so right. He waited expectantly, annoyed by the intrusion, of that she was certain. 

“Though she would never admit it, your daughter misses you. She’s distraught from having hurt you and her mother.”

Lexa watched him lean back and shake his head with a snort. 

“This apology is rich, coming from  you.” 

“Oh, there’s some mistake,” Lexa shook her head quickly, holding out a hand to interrupt that train of thought before it left the station. “I would never apologize to you. And neither would your daughter. And while she is upset and guilty about the personal pain she’s caused her parents, she will be just fine without ever receiving any forgiveness. I am here to tell you that she misses you.” 

“She misses a title,” he interrupted again. “A title she does not deserve. Your father may be alright with destroying his family’s legacy, but we will not tolerate it.” 

Lexa took a deep breath and nodded, never breaking his eye contact, refusing to fold under the weight of decency. 

“I came here today to tell you that your daughter misses her father, and she is miserable, right now. But if you are that heartless, then I believe my time here is done.” 

She stood, and he remained sitting, eyeing her, seething politely. 

“There are more important things in life than the fancies of little girls.” 

“I agree.” 

“I will not divide my country over my daughter’s taste in partners. She knew what it would cost to have you.”

Lexa clenched her jaw this time and shoved her hands in her pockets, balling them into fists there. 

“I came here to tell you that she misses you,” Lexa sighed. “And that I will make her happy. If you can’t-- if you refuse-- if you do not choose her, I came here to tell you that I do. I choose her, and this misery will fade, and I will make her a goddamn princess again. Because it’s the future now. And we can have it all. An entire empire won’t fall because we fell in love. But I will make her happy. And when we have little princes and princesses running around, you will know them solely through grainy photos in magazines and pixelated images on your phone. You will not sit beside your daughter on her wedding day. You will not hold your grandchildren. You will not die with a grieving daughter at your bedside. And that will not be my fault. I will make her happy, and it will cost me nothing to give her everything she’s ever wanted. I came here to tell you that there will be a time that you lose her forever, if you are not careful. And as I said before, I do not want your time.” 

With a curt nod, a feigned bow, Lexa turned without being dismissed-- once an act of war-- and walked toward the advisor at the door, waiting patiently for it to be opened. 

“I think I do not have to remind you that you were never here,” the king muttered, not looking up from his desk. 

“No,” Lexa murmured, not looking back at him. “I would never bring myself to visit such a backwards place.” 

She buttoned her suit jacket and waited for the inevitable nod the advisor watched for, before being led down the hall out out of the back. 

XXXXXXXXXX

It was even quieter than normal in the castle. There was a distinction, Clarke was learning, between palace and castle. The palace was where the formal events took place, in Lexa’s country, where the cabinet met and such. The castle was where they lived. It also had the quaint gift of fireplaces in every room, of which Clarke was becoming a bigger fan than normal. 

But it was insanely quiet and little disconcerting without her rougeish lover around, prepared to take her away to a dream, prepared to slay the dragons and let her win in checkers. Slowly, Clarke did another lap, making her way along hallways and creaking open doors to see what was happening, learning to map the place of her self-imposed imprisonment as best she could over time. Mostly, she ticked down the hours until she got to see Lexa again, because for her entire life, Lexa hadn’t been her’s, and now she was, and sh felt… right? That wasn’t the right word. She felt full. And she missed her, and she was allowed to miss her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clarke muttered quickly, stumbling into her favorite study, the large on at the end of the hall. It had the stained glass window as big as a truck, depicting a bountiful harvest, brimmed with beautiful flours and colors she didn’t know existed. It made a rainbow when the sun it, and in the dark, it was a stark photograph, still beautiful, but less warm. 

“You’re fine, Clarke. Good evening,” Gus smiled warmly, looking up from his chess board. 

King Gus was a giant. It was believed they descended from such, the myth was told. Clarke read about it in the old books lying around, and when she looked at him, sometimes she saw it. Nearly seven feet tall, with a beard that went to his chest, though neatly trimmed, per their customs, his braids were shorter than Lexa’s. Thicker, too, but still with the occasional bit of jewelry knit in. He was broad, wider than his security, almost, and with dark eyes and a tattoo that ran down one side, another, on his neck, indicated his widowed status, per the old costumes that his people adored he followed, still. 

For a country leading the world in medical robotics, it was an astounding juxtaposition that Clarke admired. 

Lexa seemed to inherit his height, though not all of it, though she remained squarely more like her mother, slender and agile, but built to withstand. The queen’s portrait remained everywhere, even through the country-- a truly vaunted saint among the living. 

Clarke curtsied as she had been trained for her entire life. Her deference toward the king ran deep, and she honored him greatly whenever she saw him. 

“You can come in. Only ghosts stand in doorways at night,” he chuckled. 

She smiled and nodded, moving into the warmth of the room and gratefully taking the seat across from him, observing the table for a moment before he spoke. 

“It’s quiet without Lexa around, isn’t it?” he asked, restarting his game. She followed suit without being asked. 

“She’s not even that loud, but she’s another person to bump into, I guess.”

He nodded and smiled, agreeing with her observations of his daughter. 

“How are you enjoying the property?” 

“You mean while I hide in shame?” Clarke caught herself, wincing slightly. 

“What shame is there in falling in love?” the father asked, warm and kind. His voice was deep, like what Clarke imagined an oak tree might sound like. “And I think you’re bad at hiding. Everyone knows you’re here.”

The moved a few turns, taking their time, thinking and learning the opponent, neither especially gifted in the game, both extremely rusty with their openings. It passed the time though. 

“May I ask you a question?” Clarke ventured. 

“My love, you can ask me anything. Please do not hesitate on formalities. You live in my castle and my daughter loves you. You did the impossible and saved her. You, can have whatever you want.” 

She hesitated, unsure of anything she’d actually done but make everything worse somehow. But she gazed at him and wondered now if he was made so tall and so wide and so full of muscle because he was doomed to be so full of love for everyone that a smaller frame would have failed. 

“You never considered expelling Lexa? Not even… if she were to ruin-- if your people--”

“No,” he whispered with a smile, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his beared, pondering. “Not for an instant could I do anything other than love my daughter.”

“But what if--”

“Clarke, we are all born with duties. I have a duty to my country, to its people, of course. But I have a duty to humanity and our place within it. I have a duty to my wife. I have a duty to my daughter. There is no contradiction in my duties.”

She nodded and moved a pawn before he moved a knight. She followed with a rook and furrowed as she watched the board happen in front of her, on autopilot as much as her brain was spinning like a tire in mud. 

“I’m sorry for the mess I’ve caused.”

Again, he smiled and shook his head. 

“My daughter has been in love with you since you were children. What mess is there?”

“I’m not used to speaking so frankly about my feelings,” she admitted sheepishly again, somehow enjoying it, despite how awkward it felt to talk to someone so matter-of-factly about how the universe seemed to turn. 

“You are going to have to go out there at some point,” the king reminded her, taking her knight, sacrificing for it as she swooped in to take the bishop. “And for now, you have no duty to anyone but yourself, something I expect neither of us are familiar with, but I’m sure you can navigate.” 

She nodded and leaned over the board, plotting once again. The fire crackled beside them as an attendant came in to stoke it before asking if they would like anything. Before she could say anything, the king ordered some tea, asking with his eyes for her permission until she nodded eagerly. With a small dip, the attendant disappeared again, closing the door behind himself. 

“It’s hard to admit how much I hurt Lexa, but I hope you know how worth it it was,” Clarke finally offered, capturing a queen and smiling to herself at the small act. “I’d do it again to make her happy. I’d… I should probably be afraid of the things I would do to make her happy, but I hope you won’t mind me contradicting you in that I do not just have a duty to myself, but rather to your daughter as well. Perhaps my only real duty.” 

The king watched her watch the board as he moved, disinterested in the match suddenly. He was absolutely petrified of the new breed of woman the world was cultivating. It made his heart yearn for his wife, deep, hollow in his heart. 

Before he could accept it, before he could acknowledge it, the door opened again, this time his daughter followed the tea with a smile on her face and pink in her cheeks from the cold outside. 

“Finally, he has someone to play with,” she muttered. 

He looked between them, at the smiles they had for each other and he grinned into his beard. He didn’t exist at all. 

“I’m not too good. I took his queen and he’s still won,” Clarke admitted, knocking over her king when she realized the checkmate. 

“Yeah, this is why I don’t play with him.” 

“How was Prague?” he interrupted. 

“Cold, but fine,” she shrugged, leaning over and kissing Clarke’s temple before kissing his cheek. “Should I pour the tea?” 

“Please.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

Never really one for autograph lines, Lexa was doing exactly what the PR firm directed, and that meant touching palms and kissing babies, it meant going out with Clarke, which wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world, just that it meant more public events than she cared to partake in for the year, let alone the month. 

But she had a soft spot for the kids, with their flags and their teddies and their flowers. So she always made a point to kneel down and greet them. Clarke often hung back to her side, though was beginning to get her name called as well by the people, eager to get to know her, eager to welcome her to their home. 

Today, however, they were split up. Dividing and conquering, as it were, with Clarke on the arm of the king at some parliamentary brunch, and Lexa off to do press. 

“Where’s the other princess?” someone from the line called. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re stuck with just me today,” she grinned, shaking his hand. “And I was here first.” 

He smiled and took a picture with her before she was whisked inside for a round of interviews. Magazines, newspapers, everyone wanted to know more. It got exhausting, to hear the same question, but Lexa found herself amazed at the different ways each reporter could spin it. Astounding, really, she thought to herself as she took a sip of tea between events, following her assistant down the hall. 

“We’re not going on Radio V?” she furrowed, stopping outside the door to her favorite station in all of the world. 

“You don’t do radio, remember?” 

“Why don’t I?” she cocked her head. 

“Because it’s live and we can’t edit it.” 

“What’s the harm?”

The poor assistant sighed and shook her head as the princess opened the door. She handed over her coat as she shook hands with some of the producers. 

“Got a second for me to pop on for a set?” she asked as the Deejays in the booth all stood and bowed as necessary for them to do. 

In less than two minutes, she was shaking their hands, thanking  them for their work, complimenting on the programming, and adjusting the headphones they passed her. Fortunately, for the poor PR assistant tasked with simply ushering her from one end of the building to another, the set went fairly well, quickly, relatively PG. 

“This is why I wanted to pop in-- I knew you’d ask me anything other than about Clarke,” she grinned. “I’d much rather chat about records than my gorgeous girlfriend. Don’t tell her though.” 

The announcers all smiled and laughed. 

“We didn’t have much time to prepare,” one admitted. “But what is it like, dating another princess, or should I say ex-princess? I’m not sure about the terminology.” 

“I’m not either,” Lexa admitted. “I’ll say Clarke is doing wonderful though. Loving the reception, and I’m beyond proud of everyone for how warm and polite and understanding they’ve been.” 

“What would you say to the fact that she was stripped of her titles?” 

Lexa thought about it for a moment with a hum. 

“You know,” she shrugged before giving a grin. “I don’t think it matters much. I’m just going to make her a queen instead.” 

The studio erupted with cheers and applause, causing the princess to blush slightly. She thanked them for their time, knowing full well the clip and video would be everywhere by the time she returned home. 

The poor, frazzled, potentially fired PR assistant was white as snow, unsure of what it all meant, and even worse, unsure if the princess was decidedly better at their job than her boss. 

NEXT

[harrystyleseditsx]

If you need me

SUMMARY: A one shot of where y/n experiences something that reminds her of her traumatic past and Harry’s 5000 miles away

based on the song If you need by julia micheals

WARNING: Angst with fluff :) 

pairing: Harry Styles x uni y/n 

wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Welcome to my first fic, I needed to write something to get in the flow to write my 2000 word story so here it is :)) ily guys <3 (also would you prefer y/n or an oc, please let me know!!)

Y/N was very happy about how her morning had been going.

She had woken up early, worked out and made her favorite breakfast. She had also gotten herself some flowers to celebrate the fact that she had submitted her 10 page essay early. The only thing that would make her morning better would be face timing harry but she knew it was 1 pm here meaning it would be 9 pm in London where Harry was and he had a concert to perform. She threw on one of Harry’s treat people with kindness hoodies over her sundress as she headed to the library that would often get chilly or she was just always cold as harry often teased her. She smiled as she remembered harry telling she would overheat if she continued to wear zip ups and pile blankets on herself even during summers. 

She had by now almost reached the library when she suddenly bumped into someone causing the other person to drop some of their stuff. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention-” it felt as if the words were stuck in her throat as she glanced at who she bumped into. 

“Oh hi Y/N” Asher taunted, her ex. She hadn’t seen him since the break up when he told her that he needed space and took off to France only to send her the infamous break up text. And, here he was 6 months later, looking the every bit same. She felt a feeling of anxiety creeping up on her as she started playing with her fingers trying to stop when she saw Asher’s eyes drop to her hands. 

“Are you nervous y/n? Always played with your fingers when you were” he said with a hint of smugness, as he reached his hand forward trying to grasp hers. She immediately pulled back, crossing them against her chest as she took a deep breath. 

“What are you doing here Asher? Aren’t you supposed to be in France?” she snapped at him, her nervousness quickly turning into anger. Asher raised an eyebrow as if surprised at her response. 

“Been keeping tabs on me?” he smirked. “Well forgive me if I wanted to know where my boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend ran off too on our 1 year anniversary” she scoffed.

“Finally grew a backbone y/n?” he drawled looking her up and down. Y/N had never felt the urge to pull someone’s eyeballs out more than she did now. She found herself thinking what she ever saw in this piece of shit. She snapped back to reality as she heard him droning about something.

“..you need me, so I’ll take you back-” he was in interrupted as y/n threw her head back laughing. When she looked at him again, he had an annoyed look on his face. “I need you? Well, I’d like to inform you that you’re wrong again. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone. I managed myself when you left and I’m doing so now too. So, you can see yourself out of my life again” she reiterated. Asher now looked furious, he lunged forward and grabbed her by her wrists as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Is all this attitude because of her famous singer boyfriend? Yes, I know all about him. Is he telling you that you’re beautiful? or that you’re important? because news flash, you’re not y/n. You’re worthless, stupid, ugly and you’ll be nothing without me. You’re a whore” he growled. Y/N felt herself flinch as she heard his words before she composed herself and kicked him in the balls. His grip on her wrists loosened giving her the perfect opportunity to attack. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and jerked it forward, raising her knee and smashed his face against it and then shoved him backwards. She heard Asher yelp in pain as blood gushed out of his. One of his hands was on his dick while other on his nose. She felt a sense of pride and satisfaction rush through her as she looked at him. 

"You bitch, you broke my nose. You'll pay for this" Asher yelled at her. She decided it was best to kick him one more time for good measure and she did, smiling as he groaned in pain. "No, you listen to me. If you ever come near me again or try to hurt me I will fuck up your life and I'll get my famous singer boyfriend to help too" y/n taunted as she turned out to head back to her apartment, she had never been more glad to have her apartment be a 5 minute walk from campus. The whole incident had taken a huge toll on her.

She locked her room as soon as she entered it, leaning against the door as she slowly sank to the floor. She took a deep breath before the sobs broke out. Her entire body was shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to feel as if she wasn't alone in the world. Y/N picked up her phone to send a text to harry but she try made her feel even more shitty. What if he realized she wasn't worth it, what if he had enough of her breakdowns. She pressed her nails into her palm, hitting herself to try to stop herself from feeling too much. She had come so far and now all it took was one interaction for everything to come crumbling down.

//

She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that but her phone rang, she looked at the clock to see it flashing 5 pm. Realizing that it must be harry on the phone, she got up and rushed to the bathroom, quickly washing her face, she laid down on the bed so he could only see half of her face and then accepted his call.

Harry appeared on the screen all smiley and sweaty. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. All she wanted to do was hug him. "Finally picked up, huh? I thought y'were gonna leave me hangin' lovie" he teased her. "I'm sorry, my phone was on silent" she said softly.

Harry realised the change in her demeanor, his smile turning into a frown. "Y'alright honey? Not even showin' me y'pretty face" he said to her. She tried to smile as she moved the camera a bit so he could see more of her face. "I'm just tired H" she whispered. Harry had been moving around, probably trying to find a quieter area. He shut the door behind him as he entered what looked like his dressing room.

"Have y'been cryin' y/n?" he questioned as he saw her red nose and faint traces of year marks on her cheeks. y/n knew there was no point in lying because it was pretty obvious. "Yeah, I didn't do very well in one of the assignments my economics professor had assigned but I'm fine now" she told him adding a smile in the end to make it more believable and maybe Harry would have believed her had he not caught a glimpse of the nasty bruise on wrist as the sleeve of her (his) hoodie slipped down when she was pulled the hood up. Harry was furious and the visible anger on his face made y/n want to curl up.

"What the fuck is that y/n?" he questioned furiously. "What are you talking about? "y/n replied looking genuinely confused. "The fucking bruise on your wrist” harry snapped, by now he had lost all his patience. No one gets to hurt his lovie. 

Y/N was at a loss, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to worry about her but she couldn’t come up with anything to say. “Asher came back, he cornered me and when I tried to go, he grabbed my wrists” she mumbled, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. She dare not glance his way, afraid of his reaction. After a minute of silence, Y/N glanced at her phone only to find the screen to be blank. Had he hung up on her? She stared at the blank screen of her phone in disbelief. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. Opening her gallery, she started scrolling through the numerous photos and videos of her and harry. It was at this time that she was grateful with her obsession of taking pictures and photos. A few tears escaped her eyes as she realized how much she missed him and how he probably didn’t want to talk to her ever. Was he going to break up with her? Y/N’s heart clenched at that thought, she put on harry’s playlist on her spotify and laid there. 

//

She must have fallen asleep because she woke up to the sound of pots clanging. Her heart sped up, no one besides her and harry had the key to her apartment and harry wouldn’t- 

She threw the blanket covering her aside (which had not been there before) and rushed to the kitchen. And sure enough there he was, her boyfriend, with his back facing her. Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes, he came here for her. Harry  turned around to see her standing in the entryway of the kitchen, crying. He reached her in three quick strides, pulling her in a hug. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, fearing he might disappear. Harry pulled back after a few minutes, cupping her face in his hands he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. 

“Gonna properly tell m’what happened now bubs?” he urged. Unable to say anything at that moment Y/N just nodded. Grabbing her hand, Harry led her to the sofa, grabbing her by the waist and seating her on his lap. He patiently waited her to start talking. For a while Y/n just played with his hair, then she took a deep breath and told him everything that happened. She could feel Harry’s grip tightening on her hips, not to the extent that it was painful, when she told him what Asher had said to her. 

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him” Harry cursed when she had finished. “I already did some damage” Y/N told him, smirking as she remembered Asher’s face. Harry looked at her questioningly, “I might have kicked him in the balls and broken his nose and added another kick for good measure” she admitted. Harry grinned, “that’s m’girl” he said proudly, pulling her in for a kiss. They sat like that for a while with Harry telling her about tour and she filled him in with other things that she had forgotten when they had their facetime sessions.

Y/N told him that she wanted to report Asher, in case he ever tried to pull shit like this again. Harry not only told her but also showed her how proud he was of her, how brave she’d been and how much he loved her in multiple ways. 

//

The next day they headed to the dean’s office, where Y/N saw two officers sitting outside. Luckily there were several camera’s in the hallway where Asher had cornered Y/N, so by noon, with all the available proof, she’d gotten a restraining order against Asher. If her were to come within a distance of 6ft with her, he’d serve jail time. As they left the dean’s office, Y/N saw Asher standing , she could feel harry tensing up, so when Asher looked Y/N up and down and smirked, Harry lunged forward punching him in his already swollen nose. Asher yelped in pain, he tried to fight Harry back but by now the officers had restrained him, taking him away. 

Back at the apartment, Y/N tended to Harry’s bruised knuckles as she felt a hollowness knowing he’d be leaving soon. By the look on her face, Harry knew what she was thinking about, he took the cotton swab from her hands, placing it on the table before he kissed her. 

“I’ll be back soon, it’s only a matter of two months now and by then you’ll  graduate and I’ll be done with tour and we can  have everyday to ourselves” harry told her, wiggling his eyebrows. She lightly smacked his chest, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I know, It’s just that sometimes I miss you” she commented. “Only sometimes?” Harry pretended to be offended, “Well a bit more than sometimes” she retorted. “Just a bit more? I miss you so much, it hurts” he admitted. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she pulled him in a hug. “I love you Harry” she whispered and heard him softly whisper I love you too sweetheart. 

That evening Y/n drove him to the airport, they knew they couldn’t outside for long so Harry pulled her in a kiss before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Promise me you’ll tell me anything that happens, I don’t care if it’s just a paper cut or not. Just don’t hide things from me, If when you need me I'll be there" he blurted. “I promise” she said firmly, showing him she was serious. She didn’t want him to worry but he’d eventually know something was up and it was better to sort things out. He kissed her again before he went in the airport. She stood there until he was no longer in her sight before she sat in her car and started driving off. 

Her phone chimed, picking it up she saw that Harry had sent her a image. It was a very poorly drawn graphic of a guy lying on the floor with a crooked nose and blood around him that she assumed was Asher and a girl stood over him wearing a superhero cape. He had written, ‘my hero’. She smiled fondly before sending him a picture of her reaction as she increased the volume of her radio and driving off. Soon. 

. 

This is my first time writing a harry fic/blurb. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I’ve turned on the asks (I didn’t know they were off) so you can send in your requests!! Thank you :))

[harrylilies]

The Royal Series | Pt. VI

The Royal Series Masterlist

"What do you mean I have to take him with me? I'm going on a two- day trip with my friends." You asked your grandmother in shock.

"Which is why it's the perfect way to get to know each other. I know you don't like following the formal way so do it your way." She told you before sipping her tea.

You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head before looking at your grandpapa, Prince Philip, "Please say something."

"Darling," Prince Philip sighed before looking at his wife. "You know how Y/N hardly gets to go on vacation with her friends and this seems like a duty."

You motioned with your hands at him as you looked at her, mouthing an "Exactly.”

"Fred is 26, he will fit in with Y/N and her group of friends."

"Why are you doing this?" You whispered, leaning back on your chair in defeat.

She put her hand on top of yours, looking at you with soft eyes. "It's for the best. For you."

You shook your head, "This isn't what I want. It’s what the government wants. What you think is best."

"It's what you need." She finished for you before standing up, making you stand. "Amsterdam is an exotic place. I expect you to not do anything you might regret, sweetheart." She told you before looking down at one of her corgis, Willow.

"Oh, can I hold Fred's hand? Maybe steal a kiss or two." You said sarcastically, knowing well that you were pushing her buttons, something that made Prince Philip snicker under his breath.

"Y/N," she looked at you, "As long as it's nothing that can be held against you, harm you or downgrade you, you're free to do anything you please."

"Free," you chuckled before nodding. "Yes, Ma'am."

After she left the room, you were left with your granpapa who instantly approached you and put his arm around your shoulders, his sympathetic eyes looking at you. "But you have fun on your trip. I'm sure Fred isn't half bad."

"I know he isn't, Papa." You sigh, feeling him squeeze your shoulder. "I feel so pressured."

"Everything will be alright, darling. You just have fun for me, will you?”

//

"How was your nap?" You asked Fred politely as you and your friends sat, having breakfast in the hotel.

"Very satisfying," he chuckled, pouring himself a cup of tea. "What about you?"

"Haven't really slept. Nia and I decided to play monopoly instead." You chuckled, adjusting your jacket.

"Hear it from us first, Princess Y/N of the UK breaks royal rule and plays Monopoly. Scandalous!" Fred said in a dramatic reporter voice, making you laugh.

"Come on, you must have broken a lot of rules before."

He nodded, "I don't really go by the rules." He shrugged before chuckling, “Except for that necklace I gifted you, I’m sorry. That was my mother’s doing.”

"How scandalous and vulgar." You joked, putting a hand on your heart dramatically.

"Your Royal Highnesses are needed in our conversation." Your friend, Nia, joked. You and Fred looked at her together, "We were saying we should go canal cruising right away. Although I'm scared to shit."

"Why? Not a fan of water?" Fred asked her.

Nia shook her head, laughing. "I'm a terrible swimmer. Can't rescue myself if I ever fall."

"It's true. She swims like a sad cat." Eddie joked, laughing more when Nia swatted his arm.

"It's alright, we'll all be together so I doubt you won't get rescued if you fall." Fred smiled, putting his loosely crossed arms on the table.

"Are you saying we can fall off?" Emma asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Fred instantly straightened his posture and shook his head, looking back and forth between Nia and Emma. "I didn't mean that. Not that way."

Emma laughed, "I'm just joking."

"Oh." He chuckled, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Well, it's comforting knowing that we have a professional swimmer with us. Very assuring." Trevor said before putting his fork down, "Because Y/N here, said she was skipping on this activity."

They all nodded, knowing what you already told them. You gave them a sheepish smile, shrugging, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You fucking better make use of these 4 hours we're gone in." Nia pointed at you.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Also send us pictures." Farrah said, elbowing you.

"You're all embarrassing."

//

"Do I look bizarre?" You ask one of your personal guards, Andrew, motioning to yourself. You had a "Treat People With Kindness" black hoodie, the hood covering your head, black trousers and your black vans on. You had your sunnies on, opting to not get recognized.

Andrew shook his head, "You don't, Your Highness. I don't believe people would notice."

"Told you to call me Y/N, Andy." You chuckled, taking your phone out.

"It's a habit." Your other guard, Sid, said.

You chuckled again as you texted the one person whom you were impatiently waiting for.

I'm outside x

Almost instantly, you received a reply.

I'll let Jeffery come and get you x

You waited for about 3 minutes before the black door in front of you opened and out came a grinning Jeff. "Your Highness, good to see you again."

You smiled, "Just Y/N. And thank you, Jeffrey. It's good to see you, too."

"Just Jeff." He corrected you teasingly as you walked inside and backstage. "Harry has been all over the place since we knew you're coming. Doesn't shut up about you. Don’t tell him I said that though."

You felt your cheeks heat up, only giggling in response. You stopped in front of a brown door that had "DRESSING ROOM" beside it.

"He's inside." Jeff said, knocking. "Harry?"

"Come inside!"

You grinned, glancing at your guards who chuckled and took a step back. "We'll wait here." Sid said.

Jeff opened the door for you, motioning for you to go inside.

You took off your sunnies, holding them in your hands instead as your eyes fell on the man in ruffles in front of you who was looking down, his head snapping up once he noticed your presence.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out softly as his face broke into a grin, taking long strides towards you before wrapping his arms around you, his head buried in your neck as he brought your body closer to his. "I missed you."

Your arms around his shoulders squeezed him tighter, closing your eyes as you let his warmth engulf you. "I missed you, too, H."

At the nickname, Harry felt himself smile. He pulled back, his hands moving to your face as he softly and so gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. "H, huh?"

You let out a small nervous chuckle, shrugging as you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him. "It slipped."

"I love it." He confessed quietly.

Your hands moved to his arms that were covered by the silky shirt, feeling so soothing and satisfying under your fingers as you looked at him. "This is the part when you kiss me." You teased him, feeling your faces get closer.

"And this is when you kiss me back."

If you could describe Harry's lips against yours, you'd use the word "melting.”

Melting was what you felt, slowly letting the feeling of his lips on yours let you loose. Melting went your worries and everything around. Melting went all the judgement and overthinking. Harry's lips absolutely melted you.

Pulling away with a smack and smiles, Harry pecked your lips once again softly. "You have very kissable lips."

"Yeah?" You looked up at him.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, leaning down to steal one more soft and quick kiss.

"I like the ruffles." You said, running your hands through them.

"Jeff says I look like I came from the wrong era." Harry said, looking down at himself.

You laughed, shaking your head. "You look just fine. I told you that you would."

"’Nough about me. Nice sweatshirt." Harry's lips turned to a smug smirk, looking down at you wearing his own merch. "I was so nervous that I got Farrah's address wrong and it wouldn't be delivered there though."

"I told you I can get it online."

"And I told you to consider it as a gift." Harry shrugged. "Can you help me with my hair? It won't-" Harry patted his head, looking up, "It won't sit."

You laughed, taking a hold of his wrist to get it away from his head.

"Sit down." You urged him to the vanity chair, him sitting and giving you a wide toothed comb. You began to softly comb it, enjoying how luscious and soft in felt. "So, are you coming tonight?"

Harry looked at you through the mirror, his eyes focused on how concentrated you looked as you combed his hair gently with a faint smile on his face. "Do you think your friends will like me?"

"You already liked Farrah as far as I know and she liked you. My friends are fun to be around, promise." You nodded, glancing at him through the mirror before looking at his hair.

"What were their names again?"

"Eddie, Nia, Trev and Emma." You replied instantly before your move hitched, pursing your lips. "And-and Fred." "Fred?" Harry repeated, "Don't remember a Fred in the text you sent me a couple of days ago."*

"Yeah, he's just," You gulped, shrugging your shoulders. "He's just a friend of ours that joined last minute."

Harry nodded, his index and thumb moving to graze his bottom lip; something you picked on was a habit of his when he felt nervous or in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked gently, putting the comb down before softly beginning to run your fingers through his hair to fluff it.

Harry sat up straight, lacing his fingers together in his lap as you both looked at each other through the vanity mirror. "You know I don't consider you a fling, don't you?"

"Uh," your eyes moved to look at his hair again instead of him, shaking your head slightly. "I didn't actually."

"So you," Harry paused, stopping your hands from moving by grabbing them and putting them around his shoulders instead. "You think you're a fling?"

You shrugged, feeling his thumbs gently stroke your knuckles. "I don't know, I-" You stopped, "I don't really know what do you consider me, Harry. Whether you see this going anywhere or you're scared. Or if you feel like I'm too much to handle or not. I don't know if you think this is worth it. Or if-if you just think this is adventurous and risky, gives you that thrilling feeling. It happened to me right after uni and I think I stopped understanding people's intentions ever since. When it comes to that I mean." You confessed, giving him a pursed smile after you finished as you looked back at him. "I don't have history, Harry. I don't-" You paused, shaking your head as you let out a low laugh, "I don't know."

"Y/N," Harry said softly, holding your hand and moving you till you were in front of him, letting you stand between his legs as he looked up at you.

His hands moved to hold your waist, looking up at you as you rested your hands on his shoulders. "Then I will tell you what you don't know. What you should know is that I like you. I really do. I don't care about your status or if you have guards around you all the time. Fuck it, I don't even care if I have to wait for you for three hours outside your flat and behind bushes because your grandmother isn't with us being together. I," Harry chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, "Call me a sap, a total cliché tosser but I have never felt like this about anyone before, Y/N. So here I am, an hour before my show begins, with everyone outside and the world oblivious to me having Her Highness Princess Y/N of the United Kingdom in my hold and me only caring about everything that you wish you can show to everyone, including your family, and about being there when you try new takeout," he chuckled,

"And what I'm trying to ask you is, do you want us to be-" Harry stood up, towering over you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

And there you stood; oblivious to his heartbeats that Sarah could probably use instead of her drums, his body hot and his nerves feeling as though they were about to get wrecked.

"Do you want us to be together? Exclusive?" Harry asked, "Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

You let out a small laugh of shock, looking up at him before raising your eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." He nodded.

Instantly, your hands cupped his cheeks and you brought your lips to his in a deep, strong kiss, tilting his head slightly to feel all of it before pulling away. "Are you sure?"

"I can't stop," Harry said, almost heaving, "I can't stop thinking about you," he pecked your lips, "Kissing you," he kissed you again. "Knowing that you're mine. That I'm yours. I can't fucking stop thinking about it, Y/N.” His hands were than tangled in your hair after dropping your hood, his eyes looking into yours. "Fuck," He licked his lips, glancing at yours before looking back into your eyes. "What have you done to me, you minx?”

You giggled, "I haven't done," You shook your head. "Anything.”

"Lies." He joked with a smile drawn on his face.

"Think I just became your girlfriend."

At the confirmation, Harry only pressed his lips to yours.

//

"What do you mean you didn't tell him about Fred?" Emma asked as you sat on her bed in the hotel, watching as she towel-dried her hair.

"I mean I didn't tell him about Fred. I told him that he's our friend."

"Why did you do that? You're together now, Y/N. He should know." Nia said, plopping beside you on the bed.

"What do I say?!" You groaned, "Hey Harry, by the way, I'm somewhat arranged to marry Prince Fred by my grandmother and the government. Hope it's alright." You sarcastically said.

"Okay, I don't think she should tell him." Nia said, looking at your other friends. You chuckled, shaking your head at how easily convinced she was.

"It sounds bad," Farrah said before turning to look at you as she fixed her hijab, "But put yourself in his shoes. What if he knows about it later when it's already too messy?"

"I won't let it reach that. I'm going to do something about it." You said, glancing at your friends. "It's not like I'm going to allow that marriage."

"Still." Nia said before she popped her newly red-coloured lips.

"If I really did put myself in his shoes and I know that the woman I'm with is basically arranged to marry someone else, I'll probably run off because what's the point of fighting against the queen and the country’s fucking government? I’ll be done for." You opened your arms questioningly.

"Didn't you say that he told you he doesn't care if he hides behind the bushes because your grandma doesn't support you?" Farrah asked, pointing her mascara at you. You nodded. "Then there you have it. A keeper."

You sighed, about to drop on your back when Nia's hand on your back stopped you. "You ironed that suit. Don't mess it up because your life is fucked up."

"Wise words." You mumbled, sitting up. You nodded, standing up and looking at them. "Alright I'll tell him,"

"Yes." They all breathed out, nodding.

"When it's the right time." You continued, hearing them groan in response. "We've just got together today!"

"Look, baby," Emma approached you, putting her hand on your shoulder, "We'll be here for you whenever you decide to do whatever you want. You're a grown woman and you handle complicated shit everyday in your life. We trust you, okay?"

You smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Em."

"I second Em."

"Third her." Farrah smiled at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss.

"That jumpsuit looks good on you, by the way."

"Speaking of looking good," Nia began, standing up and scrunching her curly hair as she looked in the mirror. "Fred isn't half bad. He's decent."

You, Emma and Farrah looked at each other with surprised smirks before looking at Nia who noticed the change in the room, looking back at you. "What?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Emma challenger her teasingly.

"Like I just told you I want to shove my tongue down his throat." Nia replied.

"Your words, not ours." You teased her, laughing when she gave you a "come on!"

You raised your hands up in surrender, "Just think I should let you know that I'm a taken woman and as far as I know, he's single."

"You three," Nia pointed at you, raising her eyebrows, "Are shit, do you know that?"

"Come on, it's almost 7. We better leave." Farrah said, checking her phone.

Meeting with the guys in the lobby and getting into the cars, you all drove towards the restaurant which Eddie told you was one of the best. Harry had texted you prior, telling you that he was almost there.

"Better early or I won't get the friends approval." He had texted.

Walking behind Trevor who turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Can I give him the if-you-hurt-her-I-hurt-you talk?"

"Absolutely not." You scolded him under your breath before chuckling.

"Geez, fine. Guess I'll stick to the embarrassing stories."

"Trev-" Trevor speeded off while snickering, letting you stop behind Fred.

"You look nice, Y/N." Fred smiled softly at you.

"Thank you, Fred. So do you." You smiled back, nodding your head.

"I was uh," he cleared his throat, looking behind you for a second. "I was meaning to ask you about something."

You nodded, urging him to. "Sure, what is it?"

"Is Nia-" He looked behind you again before lowering his head and voice, "Is she seeing anyone?"

Not knowing how to contain the grin, you glanced behind you at her before looking back at Fred. "She isn't actually. Want me to put in a good word for you?"

"No, no, I-" He shook his head instantly before looking down at you, "Would you? Would you do that?"

You hummed, nodding. "Of course."

He nodded, "Yeah, that would be-that would be nice."

You chuckled before nodding at him and looking in front of you, grinning when your eyes fell on the one person you absolutely wanted to kiss.

"Come on. Let's meet that boyfriend of yours." Emma whispered in your ear as you all walked towards the table where Harry stood, his hands behind his back and a welcoming smile on his face.

You were almost standing in line, watching your friends greet Harry who was grinning, shaking everyone's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Harry." Emma smiled at him before sitting down; not before looking at you and giving you a discreet “ok” hand sign and a thumb up.

You approached him, smiling when he quickly leaned in, greeting you with a peck on your lips. "You look incredible." He whispered.

"You look handsome, too." You replied. Harry pulled your seat out for you, making you sit near him as he sat at the head of the table, you sitting on the first chair to his left.

"Y/N told me you went on a canal cruise, how was it?" Harry asked, smiling as his hand rested on your knee.

And so, the conversation started flowing naturally and easily, filled with laughter and playful banter.

"I saw the video, that one you posted on your Instagram story," Eddie pointed at you before looking back at Harry, "You're bloody talented, mate."

"Right? You have amazing vocals, Harry." Farrah agreed.

You smiled as you looked at Harry, seeing his cheeks slightly turn to faded pink, making you put your hand on his on your knee. "You should hear him live. It's exactly like the studio version." You told them.

"Hey! We should definitely go once." Emma suggested, looking around at everyone on the table who agreed.

"You're welcome to any time." Harry politely said with a sheepish smile.

"Any time isn't convenient to these two royal highnesses." Trevor motioned with his hand at you and Fred, making your smile falter slightly.

Harry's eyebrows raised before looking at Fred, "Oh, excuse me. I wasn't aware that you were-."

You looked down, your ears almost perked at the conversation as the girls eyed you. Fred chuckled, nodding. "Eh, piss off,” he joked, “It doesn't matter. I'm probably going to give it up as soon as I can."

"Oh," Harry almost absentmindedly began rubbing your knee with his thumb, affectionately. "But why? If I may ask so."

"Y/N can tell you about it or she probably already did. Expectations, force, control, all that. No offense to you, darl," Fred looked at you for a second before looking back at Harry. "It's the whole marriage thing that tipped me off." "Marriage?" Harry asked confusingly, seeming interested in the talk.

"You know what? I think royal talk is the last thing we need right now," Nia interrupted them, you releasing a breath. "Harry, where's your next show?"

[jungshookz]

cee omg you could literally write a drabble about uni!yoongi making out with yn and i would literally die

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; uni!yoongiverse!! nsfw i think?? i’m not sure?? what do u call it if it’s simultaneously smut and not smut at the same time.,,. smaybe smut,,. smalmost smut,..  smerhaps smut,.,. 

➺ wordcount: 1.5k is this a baby drabble??? idk i’m counting it as a regular drabble 

➺ what to expect; “i’m going to need you to shut up now, please.”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read some other drabbles from the uni!yoongiverse!

➺ note; this was originally a baby drabble (literally was only going to be a couple of sentences at the moST) but i got carried away so here we are :D also i wrote this while my professor was in the background talking about 16th century literature on zoom and now it’s a genuine concern for me as to whether or not ancient literature is my aphrodisiac 

                                   »»————-　♡　————-««

you never really know how yoongi does it

every time you tell yourself that this time, you won’t let yourself be distracted by your boyfriend, it’s only three seconds later that you find yourself straddling him on the couch with your hands all over him

and theN when you tell yourself that you’ll only entertain him for ten minutes maximum before getting back to work he does that dumb boyish smirk and head tilt thing (“you sure you wanna go back to your textbook?”) that makes your knees all wobbly and your tummy all warm and before you know it your poor textbooks have been abandoned on the coffee table

one time you even left a marker uncapped and when you came back an hour later it was all dRY

yoongi dipped it into a glass of water in a poor attempt to revive it but it was too late

(he bought u a set of new markers from the bookstore on campus to make up for it)

“do you- mm- do you wanna hear about the classes i’m taking this semester?” you pull away and reach up to adjust your glasses that are now a little wonky considering the fact you and yoongi have been kissing for- has it already been twenty minutes?!

what happened to your ten minute rule??

yoongi rolls his eyes playfully before nodding, “go for it, dork-” he snorts before nudging his nose against your chin to get you to tilt your head back

he knows that if he says no you’re going to whinE about it for the entire time he’s groping you on the sofa so he might as well let you get it off your chest

“okay, so i’m taking this super cool literature course on trauma-“ you hum as you wrap your arms loosely around yoongi’s neck

yoongi starts to press warm kisses against your jaw while his hand slides down from your waist so that he’s gripping the side of your thigh, “mm, yeah? sounds cool.”

“it’s so super cool!” you gasp excitedly, “and the professor is super nice - i mean, she’s a little ditzy with zoom, but that’s to be expected - oh, anD she has purple hair, which automatically makes her the coolest professor ever-” you absentmindedly shift in yoongi’s lap and he grunts when you grind down against him in the process

also

side note

(not that he’s not paying attention to what you’re saying right now, but it’s pretty hard to noT focus on the fact that he’s currently kissing up on his very pretty girlfriend)  

he was never really into dry humping before you came along

you guys don’t do it as often considering the fact that now,.,. now u can just have plain ol sex buT sometimes you’ll get into it if you’re on a tight schedule or something

like the other night yoongi had some dinner plans with a couple of friends (aka going to town on 5 XL pizzas in a grubby frat house) but yoU, for some reason, decided that while he was in the middle of putting his shoes on, that was the perfect time to tell him that you wanted to play

“the last person who gets there has to take out the garbage, and i am noT going to take out the garbage again-“

“but don’t you like it when i grind on you wearing just your sweatshirt?”

yoongi pauses in the middle of tying his laces

so yeah

he was the last one to arrive at the frat house which meant he was on garbage duty but it was totally worth it

and yeah, he supposes dry humping is typically something that only a couple of hormonal prepubescent teenagers would be into but.,,. with you, it’s just so,.,.., it’s so hot

he likes seeing you get so worked up over him when he hasn’t even taken any of his clothes off yet

his favourite is when he’s lying on his back and you’re on top just because he… likes it when you’re on top

there really isn’t a very deep explanation to his preference

it’s a nice view! sue him!

he also likes when you place your hands on his chest

you say it’s because it helps keep you from falling off but he knows you just like touching him there

and right as you’re about to cum, your fingers always twitch and he likes the feeling of your nails digging into the thick fabric of his hoodies

not to mention, he loves seeing your reactions whenever he starts talking dirty to you because your cheeks and the tips of your ears get super red and usually you get all quiet and whimpery but there’s always a fire in your eyes like you’re ready to rip all of his clothes off

like there was one time he actually just wanted to tease you just to see how far he could go (you weren’t paying any attention to him because your stupid nose was stuck in your stupid books as per usual and he was getting really bored) and he’d never seen you so needy before

“yeah? you like it when i talk to you like this?” yoongi coos and bites back a grin when you buck your hips against him with a pitiful whine slipping past your lips

he presses his palm flat against your hip to keep you from moving, “aw, what’s the matter, baby? need me?” yoongi pushes his bottom lip out in a mocking pout as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your skirt before giving it a playful tug

“yoongi, please-“ you prop yourself up on your elbows before leaning up to try to get yoongi to kiss you

he’s been dodging your kisses for the past five minutes which he’s been really enjoying because you look awfully cute when you frown at him like that

and to make matters worse (for you, duh! not him >:-)) he knoWs you really really like kissing him

yoongi nearly snorts when he notices you looking at him like you’re about to skin him alive

he totally gets it because he’s basically blue-balling you

it’s nice to be on the other side of the situation for once!

no wondER you do it all the time

“yoongi.” you clear your throat and he raises a brow

“mhm?”

“i don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-“ you poke your finger against his chest, “in three seconds, i’m going to get on my hands and knees for you - and i want you to push my skirt up, tug my panties to the side, and fuck me. please fuck me.”

yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise and he pulls back a little

you very rareLY use swear words on a daily basis - in fact, you usually scold him when he brings his potty mouth into your apartment - so he’s not used to you dropping the f-bomb so casuall-

“did i mention i started taking birth control?”

yoongi’s mouth immediately goes dry

“-also taking a literature class on shakespeare, which is really bringing me back to high school-“ yoongi snaps out of his little trip down memory lane when he feels you shift on his lap again

okay well

he was like 5% horny earlier but now that the gates of his spank bank have basically flung wiDE open it’s safe to say that he’s roughly… 98% horny?

maybe a little more

maybe like 150% horny

you could flick his forehead and he would have a mind-blowing orgasm - that’s how horny he is. 

it’s not his fault!!! 

blame the spank bank!!! 

“and- oh!” you find yourself flopping back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling all of a sudden and you blink quickly as your brain attempts to catch up to what the hecK is happening right now 

“i’m going to need you to shut up now, please.” yoongi’s face pops up in front of your eyes and your eyes widen when he drags you down towards him until his very obvious bulge is pressing right up against your centre

you feel your face flush bright red and you find yourself struggling to come up with anything to say because a second ago you were literally talking about william frickin shakespeare, “but-”

“here’s what’s going to happen-“ yoongi tugs his sweatshirt up over his head, “first, i’m gonna go down on you,” he tosses it aside before leaning over and placing both hands on either side of your head, the thin silver chain hanging around his neck dangling down, “and then we’re gonna fuck-”

“language!” you say on instinct and yoongi immediately snorts

that’s pretty rich coming from you, miss flip-my-skirt-up-and-fuck-me-now 

“and you know, since i’m feeling particularly generous today,” he ignores your comment about his oh-so inappropriate language, “i’ll gladly let you choose how we boink-”

(you end up riding him which we all know is the decision yoongi is more than happy with.)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[jilyss]

Sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. Wait. Why are we on a red carpet? Are you famous?

thanks for the prompt!! i tried to keep it under 2k but that clearly did not happen lol 

read on ao3

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:14 p.m.: hey can u call when u get a sec

Lily Evans to James Potter at 3:18 p.m.: sry i was with a pt, what’s up

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:19 p.m.: i have a favor to ask

It was 3 p.m. on a Friday and Lily Evans was just barely sitting down to eat lunch. She’d sat down in the empty breakroom, kicked up her legs onto a nearby chair, and just barely bit into her sandwich when she had seen James’ text. She replied a few minutes later, too hungry to type anything coherent.

When he called a minute later, her mouth was full of food. She swallowed quickly and pressed the accept button. “Hello?”

“Hey Evans,” he said, and Lily smiled at the sound of his voice. It had been a few months since she’d talked to him. She wished they lived closer, but she had just finished her residency in Manchester and he played football for Arsenal in London, and they were both so busy they didn’t have the chance to get together often. But they were the kind of friends who were able to pick up exactly where they’d left off every time they caught up, and Lily had missed him.

“I saw your game against Southampton last week.” Lily popped a crisp in her mouth. “Nice goal.”

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Watched me, did you?”

“Remember that guy I told you about? The one I was talking to?” James hummed in agreement. “We went out for a drink and the game was on. I try to catch most of your games, but my schedule is a little - .”

“- Crazy, I know,” James laughed. “Are you still with him?”

Lily shifted the phone to her other ear. “No, we kind of just stopped talking.” She didn’t want to tell him that the real reason she had stopped talking to him was that before he found out that Lily knew him, he’d spent several minutes badmouthing James. Once he was finished, Lily gave him a quick rundown of the various ways he was an asshole, and then promptly left. She wasn’t a big fan of him anyway, and that had kind of sealed the deal. 

“Well, good - I mean, so sorry about the bloke, Evans - but I have a problem.”

Lily waited for him to continue, and he didn’t make her wait long. “There’s this event for work. Sirius is out of town, and I would ask my mum, but she went to the last one and just isn’t up for another late night yet, so if you aren’t busy, and I mean, only if you want to -”

Lily interrupted, laughing. “What do you need, James?”

“There’s this black-tie event I have to go to. It’s not a big deal, and we wouldn’t have to do anything. Would you want to go with me?”

Her eyebrows raised and she was a little surprised. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. It’s a Saturday.”

Lily pulled her phone from her ear and tapped on her calendar icon. She had that Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off. She considered her options, but there was really only one. Of course, she wanted to see him because it had been months, and she was never one to say no. She would just need to go shopping sometime before then. “Ok, sure.”

“Really? Brilliant, thanks, Evans.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until Lily’s lunch break was over, and she had to rush off to her next appointment. She sent a quick text to Marlene asking for her help with dress shopping, packed up her lunch and left the breakroom. 

James Potter to Lily Evans: hey, mum got wind of you coming down to london and would luv to see u

Lily Evans to James Potter: EUPHEMIA

Lily Evans to James Potter: of course!!!

Lily Evans to James Potter: i could come down a few hours early

James Potter to Lily Evans: actually do u wanna stay the night? we prob won’t be done until late and it’s a long trip back

Lily didn’t hesitate. 

Lily Evans to James Potter: yeah! I love ur mum and it’s been way too long

James Potter to Lily Evans: sweet, ill see you in a few days x

  Lily closed the door to her apartment, locking the door behind her. She made her way down the stairs and out to her car, carefully hanging her dress on a hook in the back seat. She’d originally planned on just taking the train down, but it would be faster to drive, and she didn’t want to worry about keeping her dress wrinkle-free on the train. 

When she arrived at the Potter’s house (though it was more like a mansion) a few hours later, a wave of nostalgia hit her. Lily and James had become friends at uni, and their friend group often went to the nearby Potter’s house for a home-cooked dinner. Lily had especially become close with Euphemia, James’ mother, and used to go over even when James wasn’t there. 

She pulled into the large driveway and parked the car before grabbing her bag from the backseat. Before she could even get to the door, Euphemia swung the door open and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lily, dear, it’s been too long!” 

Lily dropped her bag and hugged her back, excited to be back. “I’ve missed you, Euphemia!” Over Euphemia’s shoulder, she saw James running down the stairs towards them. Lily swallowed hard as she saw him. He was somehow even taller than the last time she had seen him, and football had definitely been good to him. Normally, he lived in a flat closer to his training facility but had returned to his mum’s house for the night.

As James approached, Euphemia let go of her and James immediately grabbed her into a hug. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily grinned into his shoulder, feeling his arms wrapping all the way around her. She squeezed him extra tight once before pulling away, then put one arm over Euphemia’s shoulders. “I’m doing good!” She glanced over her shoulder at her car. “I’m not sure when we have to leave, but I left my dress in the car, should I…”

“I’ll grab it.” James stuck out his hand and Lily handed him the keys. He was out the door in a second, and Euphemia steered Lily into the kitchen. 

“Congratulations on finishing your residency, Lily! Or really I should say congratulations, Dr. Evans.” Euphemia winked at her. Lily blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She still wasn’t used to the title, and even though she knew she had fully earned it, it still felt a little unreal.

“Thank you, I’m just glad to be done.” Lily took a seat at the counter, leaning her arms on the counter. Euphemia plopped a pastry in front of Lily, who took a bite without hesitating. She was an excellent cook who was always making something, and on the drive down, Lily had secretly hoped that today would be no different. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s blackberry filling, right?”

Euphemia nodded. “Now that you’ve finished your residency, are you planning to stay in Manchester?”

James walked in and tossed Lily her keys. Lily shrugged, casting her eyes quickly towards James. “I’m not sure. I love Manchester, but I’ve missed London more than I thought.” She took another bite of the pastry, chewing quickly. “I have a job now up there, but I’m not too attached yet.”

“Remus is planning on moving back here,” James cut in. “He just finished his masters, and has a job lined up here already.”

“I wish I got to see him before I left.” Lily glanced down at the counter. “I know I haven’t been able to visit a ton, but hopefully I can now.”

Euphemia patted her hand, eyes twinkling. “We know you were busy with your program, but you could make it up to us by moving back here.”

“Mum! Don’t guilt-trip her.”

Lily laughed and finished off her pastry. “I’d do anything to be closer to your baking, Euphemia.”

“I’ll make your favorite custard tarts every day, Lily.”

“Done.”

James snuck a blackberry pastry behind his mother’s back, holding a finger over lips to Lily. She grinned at him before turning back to Euphemia. “You know, the only reason I agreed to go with James is because I wanted to see you.”

Euphemia clutched her hands over her heart. “I always knew you were my favorite, Lily.”

Lily sent a wide smirk at James, whose mouth was so full of pastry he couldn’t retort back. Euphemia glanced at a clock. “James, what time did you say you were going to be leaving?”

James checked his phone. “The car is coming at six. We’ve got about an hour.”

Lily raised her eyebrows and moved to the sink to wash her sticky fingers. “I need to do my hair.”

“You know who else needs to do their hair?” 

“Mum, for the last time, my hair is fine.” James dodged his mother’s attempt to smooth out the tangles on his head. 

Euphemia turned to Lily, hands on her hips. “Don’t you think he needs a haircut?”

Lily pursed her lips at them, staring at James. “Actually, I think he looks good with that mess. Hides the rest of his face.”

James tried to flip her off just as his mother turned around, saying “Nevermind Lily, you aren’t my favorite”, and was rewarded with a swat from an oven mitt.

She grinned at him and headed back to pick up her bag by the front door. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Euphemia pushed James towards Lily, smiling and muttering something about James’ hair. He grabbed her bag from her and walked up the stairs. “Mum put you in the guest room next to mine. There’s a bathroom in there you can use.”

Once they’d arrived, Lily expected him to disappear into his room until she was ready. Instead, he sat on the carpet next to the bathroom, looking up at her. They started talking, Lily curling her hair as they talked. It was nice catching up with him, and Lily had a hard time concentrating on getting her hair right when she could watch James through the mirror. 

It was a quarter to six when she glanced at her watch and realized he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “This is a black-tie event, right?”

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and closed the door behind him. 

Lily put the finishing touches on her makeup - which was relatively simple because any makeup skills she used to have basically had disappeared in the past few years. James had brought up her dress bag, and she unzipped the bag and pulled it out. Luckily, it was still wrinkle-free, and in a few seconds, she had wiggled into it, zipped it up, and slipped on her shoes. 

Somehow, James had made it downstairs before her and was talking quietly with his mum in the kitchen. Lily walked in, heels clicking quietly, and they turned to look at her. 

She heard Euphemia’s quiet gasp and James’s soft ‘woah’. Blushing again, she did a little turn. She was wearing a silver floor-length dress paired with black heels. It was relatively simple, with small straps and a waist that hugged her hips and then dropped straight to the floor. Marlene’s eyes had practically bugged out her head when Lily had tried it on, and judging by the way James was looking at her right now, it was a good choice.

James hugged his mum and made his way to her, holding out his arm. “You don’t clean up too bad, Evans.”

Lily took his arm gratefully. “Oh, this old thing?”

Behind them, Euphemia was insisting on a picture, and Lily put her head on James’ shoulder, smiling for the picture. But Euphemia took a second to get her phone ready, and James tilted his head to whisper in her ear. “You look amazing, Evans.” 

Euphemia, finally ready, held up her camera and Lily didn’t get a chance to respond. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that had popped up on her arm when he had said that. She snapped the picture, and then, arm in arm, they made their way out the door. 

Lily had been expecting an uber, but instead, it was a small limo with a chauffeur. She gave James an odd look, who just opened her door for her and helped her in. Lily waved goodbye at Euphemia, and the driver took off. 

“So what is this event for, James? I don’t think you ever told me.”

James tugged at his tie. “Uh, just an awards ceremony.”

“An awards ceremony?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you getting an award?” The driver slowed to a stop, and Lily could see a long line of cars in front of them.

“Uh, no.”

“Are you just being humble?”

James tugged at his tie again. “No, I’m definitely not getting an award.”

Lily frowned as the driver inched forward again. She could hear some yelling in the distance, and she glanced out front again. “You’re one of the best on the team. Didn’t you say this was some team event?”

“Uh, no, I never said it was a team event.”

Lily glanced out front again and saw a team of photographers running towards the noise. Her heart rate started to pick up. “James.” 

He looked at her, half smiling and half nervous. “Hm?”

The car inched forward again and now Lily could see a red carpet going up a flight of stairs. She looked outside the window and realized exactly where they were in London. As she connected the dots in her head, her eyebrows raised.

She rounded on James. “What’s this event called?”

He had a bit of a smug look on his face as he answered. “The Brit awards.”

“The Brits? As in, famous award show with lots of famous people, the Brits?” Lily hissed. She smacked him on the shoulder with her purse. “Are you’re just telling me this now?”

He winced slightly. “Yes?”

Lily groaned and sat back in her seat. They were only a few cars away from the red carpet, and she could see the crowds of people all around. “You aren’t a musician.”

“No, but they usually invite a few athletes. David and Victoria Beckham are usually here.” He shrugged. “They invited me this year.”

Lily smacked his shoulder again. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this. You said it was no big deal.”

“Well, I’m not getting an award or anything, so it’s really not a big deal -” Lily shot him a look and he stopped talking. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling his brown locks. “Look, Evans, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kind of thought you would just figure it out?”

Lily tried to stop herself from smiling, but it was just so James that she had to laugh. He had an ego the size of England, but at the same time, was somehow humble enough to think that getting invited to a giant award show was no big deal. But she didn’t have time to process this new information before their car was at the center of the red carpet, and a man in a suit came to open their door. 

“You alright?” 

Lily took a deep breath and nodded. James slid out first, then held out a hand for Lily as she climbed out of the car. She stood carefully, adjusting her skirt and then, with shaking hands, reached up to fix James’ tie. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it. “We can go back if you want. I really should have told you, sorry Evans.”

“I’m a doctor, James. I have no clue how to handle this.”

He squeezed her hand once more. “They’re going to love you. Just follow me, yeah?”

Lily returned his squeeze and turned to look at the flashing lights of the cameras and swarms of people. This was way different from what she had been expecting, but she definitely wasn’t going to leave now. She took another deep breath and turned back to him with a smile. “Do you think Lewis Capaldi is here?”

He grinned, ran a hand through his hair one more time, and led her up the red carpet. 

An assistant led them through the carpet, although James was so charming and charismatic that they didn’t need the help. They smiled for pictures, a few serious ones with James’ hand on her hip, and a few with his arm more casually over her shoulder and her head leaning on his arm. James had a few interviews, which mostly focused on what he was excited to see inside. A few reporters asked who she was, and James introduced her each time as “my friend from uni, Lily Evans.”

They even asked her a few questions, curious about this mysterious girl James Potter had with him. Lily blushed each time, but his steady presence next to her helped her remain calm and collected, but by the time they were inside, she felt even more out of her comfort zone. 

Their assistant led them to their table and then waved goodbye. Their table was so far empty, and since James wasn’t up for any awards, they were towards the back, which let them spy on the stream of celebrities, musicians, and assistants.

Lily was still shaky, and that only increased they watched Stormzy, surrounded by assistants and friends, take a seat at the very front. Normally, Lily wasn’t afraid of new situations, and usually, she thrived in them, but she just hadn’t been prepared for this. James noticed that she was still a little nervous, and as she took a sip of her drink, he put a hand on her bouncing leg. “You alright?”

His hand, warm against the fabric of her dress, only made her more nervous. She smiled at him and internally resolved to enjoy the experience. How often would she get to be in a place like this?

An older couple joined their table a few minutes later. The husband was the manager of James’ team, and James introduced Lily. A few minutes later, they were joined by more people, and Lily and James got pulled into two different conversations, but James’ hand never left her thigh.  

A four-course meal was served as the performances started, and everyone clapped after Mabel performed “Don’t Call Me Up”. There was a crowd by the stage for the cameras, but Lily noticed that not many people seated at the tables were standing up for the performances. James and Lily were seated on the side of their table, and after glancing around, she realized they wouldn’t block anyone’s view. 

When Lizzo took the stage, Lily jumped to her feet, grabbing James’ wrist. “Stand up!” 

He didn’t hear her at first, and she bent at the waist to speak into his ear. “Stand up!” He popped up next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders again, while she wrapped her arm around his waist. They danced like no one was watching, swaying back and forth together, although they certainly got a few odd looks. Lily was laughing at his singing (he knew every word of all of Lizzo’s songs), finding that she had a hard time focusing on the music when he was so tall and warm next to her. They sat down again a few minutes later, but James’s hand stayed in his pockets.

The award show eventually ended, and Lily and James stood outside, waiting for their chauffeur. But there was a long line, and after a few minutes, Lily looked up at James. “Want to get a little ways away and call an uber?”

He immediately nodded and followed her, one hand in his hair. They made their way out of the building, James occasionally getting stopped by someone he knew or when he got recognized. By the time they were out into the night air, it was nearly one am. 

“I’ll call the uber,” James said. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and swung onto Lily’s bare shoulders, and she smiled gratefully. A few taps later, he tucked it into his pocket and pointed down the street. “I said we’d meet them down there. There’s too much traffic back there for them to get through.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they walked side by side. There were still quite a few people out, but for the most part, they were left alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were going to.” James kicked out at a loose rock on the sidewalk. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

Lily pulled his suit jacket a little tighter around her and shrugged. “I had a lot of fun. A little nerve-wracking at first, but I’m definitely not mad you invited me. I just didn’t know you were so famous.”

He frowned. “I’m not famous.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Then how, exactly, did you get an invitation to the Brit Awards?”

He shot her a smirk. “My thick thighs.”

“James Potter, your mum was right, you need a haircut to humble you.”

A car pulled up next to them and James checked the license plate quickly before opening her door again. “So you agree, I have thick thighs.”

Lily waited for him to climb in before she continued. “You have thick thighs but I’m not sure why that would help you get an invite.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face her in the backseat. “Raw sex appeal.”

Lily’s eyebrows raised even higher. “Raw sex appeal.”

“Mmhm. Raw sex appeal.” James put his hand over the back of her headrest, causing his shirt to pull tight against his torso. Lily had to pull her eyes from the outline of his muscles, and when she met James’ eyes again, it was clear he had noticed. 

“Well, that can’t be it. You don’t have a single drop of that.”

“That’s not what my mum tells me.”

“Your mum tells you that you have ‘pure sex appeal’?”

“Evans - “ James tried, but Lily had won their little battle of words, and there was nothing he could do. “Alright fine, it was not my sex appeal.”

“Glad we finally agree on that.” 

 Euphemia was in bed when they got home, and Lily and James crept upstairs to change. Lily changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tossed her hair into a bun, and decided taking off her makeup was a later problem. James beat her downstairs again and was standing in front of the open refrigerator. 

Lily snagged another blackberry pastry, groaning as the sweet taste filled her mouth. James turned around with half of a sandwich in his hand. He walked into the pantry and grabbed some glasses and red wine before moving to sit next to her at the counter. Lily shifted to face him as he pointed to his legs. 

“I wore shorts just so you could see my thick thighs. And raw sex appeal.” Lily glanced down to see a pair of very muscular thighs hidden behind grey shorts. She swallowed hard and bit into her pastry. 

“If you say so.”

There was quiet padding behind them, and Euphemia walked in, wrapped in a bathrobe and hair in curlers. “Oh! I’m so sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head, squinting in the kitchen light. “I wanted to ask you how it went.”

Lily didn’t hesitate to throw James under the bus. “Your son told me this award ceremony was no big deal.”

“No!” Euphemia gasped. “You didn’t tell her it was the Brits?”

James shrunk slightly under his mother’s glare. “I may have forgotten to mention it.”

“And he told me he has raw sex appeal.”

“Is that so?” Euphemia turned to James, hands on her hips, but the laughter in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying embarrassing him. James just shot his mother a winning smile, and Euphemia turned to Lily. “Did he treat you right?”

“Oh yes, a perfect gentleman.” But just as she said this, James' hand crept back onto her bare thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles under the table. Lily’s stomach flip-flopped.

Euphemia winked at them and pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, dearie. James, stay out of the ice cream, I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

James kissed her on the cheek as she left, then grabbed the wine and glasses. “You want to go outside?”

Lily grinned and moved to grab some blankets from the living room. James was bent over the firepit on the back patio, and in a few seconds, had managed to start a warm fire. She handed him a blanket, scooting her chair close to his and wrapping herself up. He handed her a glass of wine then settled back into his chair. 

“Coming out here was always my favorite thing to do at your house,” Lily said. “It just… it just felt like one big family.”

James fanned his fingers out over the flame. “How long has it been since we were all together? Like three years?”

“Four,” Lily said quietly. “We haven’t all been together since graduation.”

“We’ve come a long way since then.”

“Yeah.” Lily shifted in her seat. Then she asked a question that had been weighing on her mind since he had called her. “Why did you call me?”

She expected him to give her a joking response, but to her surprise, he took a minute to think. “I missed you. It’s been a while.”

“No girlfriend? No pretty famous person who is sliding into your dms?” Her voice was teasing, but it was a genuine question. James had it all - fame, money, talent, looks - why did he ask her to go with him on the red carpet?

He laughed lightly and shook his head. “C’mon Evans, you know that’s not me.”

He was right - Lily couldn’t see him ever actually caring about his fame. It just wasn't him. Sure, he had an ego, but he’d matured so much since freshman year of uni, and Lily had been more than impressed with him on the red carpet. “You handled it so well today. Everyone loves you. ” 

“Everyone loves you, Evans. You had less than thirty seconds notice that you were going on a red carpet and you adjusted in what - ten seconds?”

Lily stayed quiet, taking a sip from her glass. “We’ve grown up a lot since uni, haven’t we?” He didn’t reply, just staring into the fire. Lily continued. “I don’t know if I could have done it tonight if it wasn’t you with me. You just made it easy.”

He shrugged. “I used to go to a lot of events with my mum and dad.”

Lily wanted to reach out and shake him and tell him that no, it was just James that was so charismatic and caring and charming. He didn’t seem to know the effect he had on people - had on her - that made them open up and happy -

And then all of a sudden, Lily realized just exactly what her feelings were. The reason she had a hard time taking her eyes off him or kept having to fight the urge to just hold his hand, and why she suddenly did not want to go back home.

Her eyes flicked at him, tracing the lines of his face and watching the light dance on his hair. James seemed to sense that she was watching him and glanced up at her. She just smiled softly and pulled her blanket tighter, heart pounding.

James downed the last of his drink and stood up, brushing off his pants. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Lily was a little surprised at his sudden decision, but felt a yawn coming on and stood up with him. James extinguished the fire, Lily grabbed the wine bottle, and they headed inside. They were mostly quiet, but just before Lily entered her room, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks for tonight. I’m glad you invited me.”

James wrapped his arms around her and Lily could feel her heart rate increase again. He didn’t pull away, but she was worried that he could hear her pounding heart and didn’t linger. She waved goodbye to him, then went into her room. 

The blanket was still hanging on her shoulders, and she buried her nose in it, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Tonight had not been anything like she had expected, and she was incredibly grateful she had said yes. But there was a problem. She hadn’t anticipated her newfound feelings for James and had no idea how or when they had started. All she knew was that she was going to kick herself for months if she didn’t tell him how she felt. 

But the problem with that was she had no idea if even liked her. But thinking back on the night, Lily hoped the hints he seemed to be dropping really were hints and not just things close friends do. Like the way he had held her hand on the red carpet, the way he kept putting his hand on her thigh, or the way he had looked at her when she’d first come downstairs. 

Lily tilted her head back to rest on the door, gave herself a mental pep talk, threw open the door to her room, and marched across to James’ bedroom. She knocked quietly on the door, and he opened it a few seconds later. 

“What’s up?” he whispered. Lily took a tiny step forward and he stepped back to let her inside. She stood only a few inches away from him, the blanket still wrapped around her. 

“Why did you call me?” her voice was so quiet that she barely even heard it. “You never answered my question.”

“Evans…”

Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. She took a small step forward. “I think you can call me Lily now, James.”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. He seemed to be fighting himself internally, and Lily couldn’t handle it more. She closed the gap between them, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. He didn’t respond, and Lily pulled away, feeling her stomach drop. She looked up at him, trying to gauge if she had just made a terrible mistake. 

She was just about to step back, ready to apologize, but his dark eyes flashed and his hands reached out to grip her face and pulled her back. The blanket slid to the ground as Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her, and the warmth of the blanket was lost. One of his hands moved to grip her hip, the other on the small of her back, pulling her against his chest. His warmth replaced the chill as Lily moved one hand to play with his hair. He groaned against her lips as she tugged on it, tilting his head back so that she could press needy kisses along his jawline.

He stepped to the side, pulling her with him towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she immediately sat, grabbing onto the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling him down with her. The rough movement made their noses knock together, and Lily just laughed as James pulled away a little ruefully to rub it. Lily took advantage of the space between them to pull his shirt over his head, and as soon as it was tossed to the side, James dropped back to her, warm fingers trailing up her sides.

 “You think your mum heard us?” Lily was lying under the covers with her head resting on James’ arm, one hand tracing the lines of his stomach. 

“Way to ruin the mood, Evans. I love talking about my mum right after sex.” Lily laughed as he buried his face in a pillow. She reached out to play with a strand of his hair. James pulled his face out of the pillow to look at her. “You weren’t exactly quiet, were you?”

Lily blushed violently as he shifted to kiss her neck again. James had excellent stamina, what could she say? He seemed to know exactly what spots got to her, and it quite possibly had been the best bloody shag of her life.

Not that she would tell him that - she didn’t want his ego getting any bigger. Instead, she shifted onto her elbow, letting the sheet slide down to her waist. She smirked as his eyes slipped downwards and he swallowed hard, letting his hands wander freely. Pulling her hair out of her face, she bent down to pull him in a needy kiss, and that was all the prompting he needed to roll on top of her again. 

 After getting back so late and an active night, they slept in late. Lily woke up first, with James sprawled out on the bed next to her. She watched him for a minute in the soft morning light, then got dressed enough to quietly pad across the hall and back into her room. She showered quickly, scrubbing off last night’s makeup, then dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. 

The kitchen was empty, but Euphemia had left a note on the counter about waffles in the fridge, and Lily didn’t hesitate to pull a few out. She had just put a few in the microwave when James shuffled in, wrapping his arms around her from the back and burying his head in her neck. He inhaled deeply, and his warm exhale gave Lily goosebumps. “You smell good,” he murmured, shifting some of her wet hair off her neck, giving him unrestricted access. Lily’s head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as his lips trailed up and down, humming softly. 

Lily would have taken him right there and then if Euphemia hadn’t walked in that exact second. She tried to put some distance between her and James, a little embarrassed that she’d caught them like that, but James kept his arms tight around her, laughing. 

“Morning mum,” he said brightly. “What are you up to?”

“Just out for a bit of gardening.” She waved her dirty hands and raised an eyebrow quizically at them. “Jamie dear, do you have something to tell me?”

James rested his chin on Lily’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, tipping her head to the side to see him, a smile breaking out on her face. He smiled too, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her stomach. He looked over at his mother, who was now washing her hands, and said “Mum, I want you to meet Lily Evans, my girlfriend.”

Euphemia gasped and spun on her heel to look at them. “Well, it’s about time!” She reached out and pulled Lily from James’ arms. “Oh! My hands are all wet.” She released Lily from the hug and jumped up and down. “I always hoped you two would get together!”

James grabbed Lily from behind again, pulling her close. Lily shot her an odd look. “You did?”

Euphemia winked at both of them and James groaned. “She loves you too bloody much.”

Lily patted his hands, which had slipped just under the hem of her shirt, consolingly. The microwave finally beeped and she pulled away to grab the plates. Euphemia disappeared back into the garden a few minutes later, and Lily joined James back at the counter. They dove into the food, both starving. 

James slid his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his, not wanting to be apart just yet. When they’d finished, he turned to her, one elbow leaning on the counter. “So, Evans, want to stay the night again?”

She pretended to think about it. “I’m sure Euphemia would enjoy my company.”

James pushed his plate away and stood up. Lily turned around to face him, and he stepped forward until Lily’s back hit the counter. He kissed the corners of her mouth, then moving back down to her neck. “No other reason?”

Lily was having a hard time concentrating. “I can’t miss out on the blackberry pastries.”

“Any other reasons?”James sucked slightly at the sweet spot he had discovered last night and Lily’s fingers dug into his shoulder. His free hand fingered the waistband of her shorts, and Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She kissed him, one hand fisting in the hair that she just couldn’t seem to get enough off. Still on the barstool, Lily wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her, kissing her all the while. 

“I can think of one more reason,” she managed to get out as he carried her up the stairs.

James threw open the door to his bedroom, tugging his shirt over his head. “Oh?”

Lily mirrored him, tossing her sweatshirt to the side. “Raw sex appeal.”

James’ eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? Tell me more?”

Lily didn’t answer, instead just pulling him to the bed and laughing at the devilish look in his eyes. 

[professional-benaddict]

@starkiller-queen wrote me a wHole oneshot and sent it in an ask so I edited it into a post bc it’s a whole ass aMAZING SWEET THING🥺🥺💗💗

«Hi Rafni! I wrote you a lil something to help you feel better 💙 fandom therapy is best therapy! Now don’t eat this ask tumblr …»

“Daddy’s so sorry he can’t make it home tonight, baby. I know I promised, but I’ll be there when you wake up tomorrow and we’ll have a great big breakfast of pancakes!”

Peter gazed into the camera of his phone with big doe eyes. He was trying to be a big boy - honest! He swallowed the lump in his throat and put on his brave face. Daddy would want him to be brave.

“An’ I can have chock-late chips?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Whipped cream too!”

“Sure baby, just this once,” Stephen concedes. It was the least he could do to make up for Peter spending the night alone.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

Peter nodded and brought the phone even closer to his face to show off his pearly whites.

“Good job sweetie! They look super shiny clean. Did you wash your face?”

Peter nodded again, afraid that his anxious little voice would give him away.

“That’s a good boy! Daddy is so proud of you,” Stephen praised and blew him a kiss through the phone.

Peter giggled, but it was only half-hearted.

“Okay baby, it’s way past your bedtime. Daddy’s going to get off the phone so you can go to sleep, alright? Did you pick out jammies?”

“Nuh-uh!” Peter said, realization dawning on him.

Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s okay Petey pie. Why don’t we say goodnight and then you can snuggle down, okay? Daddy loves you so much. Sweet dreams baby boy, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Love you too Daddy, ni-night,” Peter replied before blowing a kiss back.

Stephen smiled one last time before ending the call. Peter sniffled as he looked down at the blank screen. Being brave was so hard without Daddy around! He scrubbed the tears away from his eyes before hopping off of the big bed and over to Stephen’s closet. He opened the door and grabbed the first cozy hoodie he saw. It was grey and had a big word on it that Peter couldn’t read, but he knew it had something to do with where Daddy learned to be a doctor.

He slipped the sweatshirt on over his head and flapped his arms around in the too-long sleeves. It was funny to wear oversized clothes sometimes! He laughed and did a little dance around the bedroom, pretending he was going to fancy doctor school too.

But what kind of doctor went to school without pants?! Peter ran back to the dresser and took out a pair of comfy blue sweatpants. They were Daddy’s favorite lounge clothes, and they smelled the most like him. Peter slipped the pants on over his pull-up and went to lay on Stephen’s side of the big bed.

He held Baby Seal in his arms, but the bed felt too big for just him and his little friend. When he rolled over to face the empty side of the bed, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Even with the lamp on, being home alone at night was scary! It seemed like it would be forever until Stephen got home, and Peter felt as if their special pancake breakfast wouldn’t happen for days.

He wiped his face with the too-long sleeves of Stephen’s sweatshirt and cried into the soft, worn fabric. If Daddy couldn’t be there himself, the next best thing was wearing his clothes. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in the comforting scents. Maybe if he tried hard enough, it would be like being wrapped up in Daddy’s arms! He fell into a light, restless sleep, overtired from worry and still missing Daddy.

~

When Stephen arrived home, it was almost five in the morning. He was exhausted from a full day and night of travel, but his heart melted when he stepped into the bedroom and saw Peter curled up in his university sweatshirt.

“Baby boy, I’m home,” Stephen spoke quietly as he touched his hand to Peter’s shoulder.

“Dada?” Peter mumbled, voice groggy with sleep.

“Yes sweetie, it’s me. Daddy’s home,” he said and kissed Peter’s forehead. “You just go back to sleep, okay? It’s veeery early. Daddy just wanted to say hello.”

Stephen moved to put on his pajamas, but Peter caught his hand with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Daddy!”

Stephen turned around and wondered if it had really been such a good idea to wake the baby. He was about to tell Peter to go back to sleep when he saw his red and watery eyes.

“Oh baby,” he said and scooped Peter into his arms. “You really missed me, huh?”

“Uh-huh! Missed you lots!” Peter said through sobs.

Stephen carded his hand through Peter’s soft curls and gently rocked him back and forth. The way Peter clung to him made his heart ache.

“Shh, it’s okay sweetie, Daddy’s here now, Daddy’s here,” he reassured and rubbed soothing circles on Peter’s back. “You were so good and brave for me, I’m sooo proud of you!”

“Was scary!”

“I know baby, shh … I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, sweet boy.”

“You’re not leavin’ ‘gain?”

“No Petey pie, Daddy’s so happy to be home with you.”

Once his cries quieted to hiccups, Peter lifted his head from Stephen’s shoulder and looked at him through watery eyes.

“And I see you chose the Columbia sweatshirt?” Stephen asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Mmhmm,” Peter said shyly, suddenly unable to meet Stephen’s eyes.

“It’s okay baby, I only asked because you look so cute in it.”

“Is where you did doctor school?” Peter asked. He loved when Stephen told him funny stories from his university days.

“Yep, that’s where Daddy learned to be a doctor. It’s called Columbia University.”

“Co-lum-i-ah …” Peter said, rolling the word around in his mouth.

Stephen smiled warmly and sat back against the pillows on the bed, Peter still in his arms.

“Here baby, let’s get you all nice and comfy and Daddy will tell you a story, okay?”

Peter shifted so his head was on Stephen’s chest and nodded with sleepy eyes. He was already starting to drift off, but he couldn’t miss out on the story!

“My best friend from uni is Christine. We work together really well, but it wasn’t always that way,” Stephen said and paused to chuckle. “When we first met, Daddy was kind of a little bit of a know-it-all, and she did not like it. To get back at me, she hid my stethoscope in the chemistry lab and I couldn’t find it for a week!”

Peter gave a sleepy giggle and fell asleep smiling with the knowledge that Daddy was here to stay.

~

thAnk you thank you so so much for this darling im like deAd and re read it twice already🥺🥺💗💗 i liiive for peter curling up in stephen’s columbia hoodie ahhhh🥰🥰🥰🥰