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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

“your turn”

Harry Styles was a romantic. He hated weddings. Rori Williams was practical. She hated weddings, too. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue.

A story of two semi-strangers to lovers with weddings, drunken confessions, and girls with two names.

gif has nothing to do with it but he looks fancy and i like it :) tpwk

Hi! this is for @meetmeinfleetwood to lovers fic challenge! and it’s a little cruel of me to post it today after those wedding pics came out but i have been working on this for awhile and tomorrow’s the deadline so if it’s too soon im sorry and if its just what you need enjoy! I used prompts 12 and 15! It’s my first ofc story which is a little strange for me but i wanted to use a name for this, but besides her hair and eye color and a name she’s pretty generic,,, idk thank you all for always reading and all of that. lmk what you think and reblogs are always really appreciated

Word Count: 9.3k | Warnings: drinking, swearing, implied? smut (couldn’t bring my heart to write any my apologies), harry being a silly drunk, mentions of being afraid of someone taking advantage of someone under the influence but ofc no! actual any misconduct -- a SITCH wedding!!! so cute ::))

Harry Styles was a romantic.

He loved love songs that professed their undying love for their significant other. He loved romance movies, rom coms especially, because they were happy and in love and he got to cry and laugh all in one. He loved writing his own songs about love and he loved spreading the idea of loving and treating others with kindness. He loved first dates and the relationships that sometimes sprouted out of them. He loved reading books about love and how to make it last. He loved poetry that waxed eloquent about love. He loved love.

He hated weddings.

Well, he hadn’t always hated weddings. In the beginning, they were like every other aspect of love, he loved them. But slowly, as he kept receiving announcements of engagement and wedding invitations and he kept not sending out letters of his own, his aversion grew.

Sure, he still loved going. He still wept for the happy couples when they committed themselves to each other. He still clapped profusely and danced to the dj or live band. He still tried to enjoy it. But with weddings he had a nagging sense in the back of his head reminding him that he still hadn’t found it yet. Each of his relationships had fallen short in some way as to not lead him to this destination. So when he sat at his assigned table at these various gatherings, he held a bit of apprehension, a bit of envy, about everything going on. He knew that his smiles were all a little forced and his laugh not quite genuine. His thoughts always managed to be controlled by his green-eyed monster that he always attempted to keep locked away. But at weddings, especially when the alcohol started flowing, he had a harder time controlling it.

Seeing all his friends getting together, getting married, and having children wore on him. Wore him thin more than he ever let on to anyone but his therapist. And his therapist couldn’t seem to give him a better answer than to be patient and not give up hope.

By 2021, Harry had decided that maybe he was just meant to be alone. Love was something he could admire, but it wasn’t meant for him. He could chase it, but it would never let him have it. He was unlucky in love and by Sarah and Mitch’s wedding in the Spring, he had come to terms with it.

He had even been optimistic for it, being Mitch’s Best Man and all had gotten his hopelessly romantic heart all aflutter. He was introduced to Sarah’s Maid of Honor, Renee Williams and she had been lovely. She was 31, a little older than Harry - but age wasn’t something that deterred him, and she had worked with Sarah in Los Angeles before Harry recruited Sarah for the band. They were best of friends and Sarah had known for a long time that Renee would be her Maid of Honor.

When Harry met Renee, he was sure that she was meant to be his person. She was beautiful and hilarious, her beauty mark at the side of her lip was so utterly unique he called her a “right Marilyn”. She insisted she was not a Marilyn Monroe type at all and had laughed. Harry had charmed her with his expert flirting and claimed that just because she was a brunette didn’t mean she was a Marilyn. She had smiled and bantered through the rehearsal dinner with him at her side. He was entranced, it had to be Renee, he had been so sure of it.

When Renee had walked down the aisle just before Sarah, Harry had been sure of it. When Renee had smiled at Harry as Mitch slipped on Sarah’s wedding band, Harry had been sure of it. When he had hooked his arm around hers as they walked down the aisle and into a foyer, Harry had been sure of it. When she laughed at his jokes while they waited for their wedding party photos to be taken, Harry had been sure of it.

When Renee walked up to Harry at the reception with another man wrapped around her, Harry wasn’t so sure of it anymore.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Corey,” Renee smiles giddily between the two men.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he swallows harshly before blinking and putting on a sweet smile. He thrusts his right hand out for Corey to shake.

“Hullo, mate,” Harry says happily.

Corey greets Harry, extending his hand to meet Harry’s with a warm smile and a “how are you”. Harry laughs boisterously and takes a sip of his champagne flute. They shake hands with a firm up and down motion.

“Planning on getting really drunk,” Harry says in response to Corey’s question. “Have a great night, you two,” he finishes and stalks off for a refill.

Renee watches him go with a little bit of a confused look on her face. She sees him tilt his head back and finish his drink before turning to face her boyfriend and peck his cheek. She mumbles to him, “He’s a really nice guy, wouldn’t stop chatting my ear off the past few days. All these people must make him antsy.”

He nods back to her, “They must.”

Harry sidles up to the open bar, discarding his empty flute and exchanging it for a much stronger drink.

“Tequila. Neat...Please.” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls that are slowly becoming less and less coiffed. His fingers slide to the collar of his shirt and tug, attempting to loosen it a little.

“Rough night already?” Someone asks from beside him.

His face turns to them and sees a smiling brunette. Her eyes are big, larger than most eyes he’s come across. They’re brown with tinges of gold and green, likely making them hazel by her standard since most people prefer saying hazel eyes to brown. Her smile is bright and clean and if Harry hadn’t already heard her speak he would assume she was American from that smile. It was perfect, too perfect - the teeth both straight and blindingly white.

He raises his eyebrows at her and thinks about his response. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them parted, but he remains silent when the bartender hands him his tequila. Harry wraps a specifically less ringed hand tonight, he had forgone his ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings as well as the rest of them actually on his left hand. His right hand still had two: the large flashing lavender gemstone encrusted in a gold casing from Stevie Nicks on his middle finger and then a clean gold signet ring with little crosses on the sides on the adjacent ring finger. Every other finger was noticeably empty. So when he picks up the glass there is no familiar clink which draws the attention of himself.

The woman doesn’t pay any attention to his hand, she’s still waiting for him to respond to her question, as well as waiting for her other drink to be made. She was taking advantage of the two drink system and getting two for herself right now, so she didn’t have to come back until much later.

“You have no idea,” is how Harry decides to respond and then turns to leave. He forgets about the woman and sits at his assigned table for his entire drink, talking casually with the people who come to speak with him.

When he's finished, he goes back to the bar to order a second tequila. He thinks about the girl who had stared at him with her big brown eyes. How she had seen him and thought to ask how his night was when it seemed to be going to shit. And how he had blown her off with barely a glance. God, he could be such a prick. After he receives his drink, he forgets yet again and continues to drown his sorrows in the golden liquid that helps him numb the pain that he had once again missed out on his fairytale love story.

The girl Harry had run into sat in the corner of the ballroom for the majority of the night. She settled on just having that first round of drinks for herself and one glass of obligatory champagne during the toasts. Other than that, she had promised herself she wouldn’t get drunk and go off with a random stranger. This was not a wedding for that. This wedding couldn’t be for that. She just needed to keep her head low and try to have a semi-pleasant time.

When she was nursing her champagne through the toasts, the man at the bar caught her eye again. She knew who he was. He was the Best Man after all. Sarah talked about him a lot, even Renee after the past few days, but seeing him at the bar had been the first time she’d ever seen him up that close. It was strange, he was so human. So tangible in that moment. His shoulders shook with each breath he took. His fingers tapped as they waited for his drink. His green eyes blinked and darted around as he took in his surroundings and even looked at her. He simply was and it had startled her to see him in a slightly bewildered state at the bar, but again, she wasn’t one to judge.

Get through the wedding. Try to have a semi-pleasant time.

It was time for the Best Man’s speech. Renee had just given the Maid of Honor’s and now Harry was up. He stood up and wavered a little as he tried to stand up straight. The neat tequila likely makes his stance a little harder to maintain. Mitch looks up at Harry at his side and smiles fondly.

Harry raises one hand in an awkward wave while the other is planted firmly on the table.

“Hullo,” he starts, “I’m Harry and I’m the Best Man, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

The entire group of guests laugh wholeheartedly, taken by the talented young man.

“To start,” he stutters, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol he’s had, and his smile slithers into a smirk. “Let’s hear it for the bride and groom, the lovely Sarah and Mitch Jones!”

Queue the laughter again. Harry laughs too when Mitch slaps his arm playfully, he turns to look at him with a mock ‘what did I do wrong’ expression.

“I had a speech written out, took a week to write, made it nice and poetic for these two lovebirds, but it seems I’ve misplaced it,” he pats at his pockets and sighs before rubbing his forefinger at his bottom lip. “I hate weddings.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking he’s joking. Harry grimaces but it passes as a smile even though she can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes.

He rambles on for a few minutes about love and commitment, how this is just the beginning for Sarah and Mitch and everyone laughs at the appropriate times and just when he’s wrapping up, successfully stumbling through his messy mind, everyone begins to clap.

“To the happy couple…” queue applause, but she sees him say something else, it’s drowned out by the crowd cheering and clinking glasses again.

He sits back down, downing his champagne glass that’s been refilled twice already during the speeches. Mitch leans over and whispers something in Harry’s ear as he twists a hand through his hair. Harry shifts away from Mitch and gives him a look, telling Mitch that he’s fine.

The party goes on, a few more speeches, a few more glasses of champagne for Harry, a few more sighs from the girl in the back of the room.

She watches the first dance of Mitch and Sarah but once that part is over she slinks off. She’s got half a drink left and all she wants is to be alone. Tired of the party, tired of the people, tired of having to try to have a good time. The Rowland-Jones Party had rented the entire place out, so she wanders out of the main room and down a hallway until the music is a faint buzz in her ear. The air grows colder as the amount of people dwindles from over a hundred to one.

There’s a door to her right that has an intricate golden handle that she pulls down on. It opens quietly onto a similar ballroom that is slightly smaller than the one the party was going on in. It’s quiet and spacious, her steps echo as she enters on heeled feet. The clicking of her satin stilettos resonate against the linoleum. She walks to the center of the room and turns around herself, lifting her head to the light in the room. An ornate chandelier is still above her, it’s the same gold as the handle that let her in. Her eyes travel to the walls that contain swirls of gold as well, everything was encrusted in gold and splotchy vintage mirrors. It was beautiful and she saw herself in the reflection of one of those splotchy vintage mirrors and actually felt beautiful in that moment.

No one else saw her but herself and she thought she was beautiful, a fleeting thought as she watched her body move. No one to watch as her reflection swayed with her. Her lavender dress swished back and forth, the end of it brushing around her ankles. The tulle fabric climbed her torso, cinching at her waist and draping over her breasts. The sleeves fluttered over her shoulders and ended midway down her upper arm. The somewhat sheer material made her tan skin look all the more carmely in the golden light of the chandelier. Her pendant necklace was silver and glinted in the light as it sat evenly over her exposed clavicle and decolletage.

In the corner opposite of the door there was a single table with three chairs. It seemed whoever was meant to put things away had grown tired and left these out. She wasn’t complaining as she crossed the floor to take a seat. It was the perfect escape. It was quiet and not too cold in the room, which was especially nice since she had left her jacket in the coat room. What wasn’t so nice is that her phone had died and she had nothing to do in the room. It wasn’t horrible though, she had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She just feared what would happen if she sat alone too long with no escape of the internet to drown those thoughts.

That contemplation was squashed with an unwitting solution not ten minutes later. She had been sitting at the table, sipping her drink occasionally and staring at the chandelier. Sighing with content that it was finally silent beside the clink of her melting ice cubes. The house mixed drink was strong, but with each passing second it grew more and more diluted. She considered herself completely sober.

She only questioned that when she noticed a second person in the room. She hadn’t heard them open the door, but she heard their loud footsteps shortly after.

He all but stumbled in and was entranced by the chandelier like she had been. He walks to the center in a similar fashion and twists around, only this time his balance isn’t as good as hers. He ends up on his ass, legs splayed in front of him and hands behind him only cushioning his fall a little. He lets out a huff, “Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face before bringing it down to look around the room again. His eyes are foggy with alcohol, everything hazy and slightly blurry. It feels like he’s moving with superspeed but as she watches him with a tilted head she wonders why he’s moving so slowly.

He squints while looking around after a moment, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair. His tongue comes to wet his lips, but this time it's for a touch too long like he’s genuinely tasting the liquor on them. She raises her brows, observing him, her presence seemingly unknown.

“Oi, you!” He slurs the words and points lazily at her reclined in her chair. “Are you real?”

She half smiles and replies with a simple ‘yes’.

“I like your dress,” he says merely like he was stating a fact rather than giving a compliment. His hair falling into his eyes again despite him just pushing it back.

“Thanks.”

He makes his way to standing, his process rather ungraceful. He twists onto his hands and knees and begins to push himself up. He slips once before making it to full standing, he sways slightly and looks around again like he’s forgotten why he stood up. His eyes land on her again and he decides to make his way over to the table.

“You should probably sit,” she says, watching him splay his arms around him to keep his balance. She had seen him an hour and a half ago and he seemed fine, but now he seemed absolutely and utterly pissed.

“Thanks, mum,” he says as he thunks into the seat beside her, his hand waving off her suggestion.

Her brows raise at the slightly rude comment, but she leans back in her seat still observing him.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She asks once he’s settled and has his head propped up with one of his hands. She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him scan her face again, trying to see if he recognizes her.

His mind must come up empty, a vague memory of the bar slipping away without a second thought.

“It was a joke,” he shrugs.

“No it wasn’t,” she replies easily.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward a little shakily, “Who are you?”

“Aurora.” She licks at her own lips, a stray bit of liquid lingering on her lips.

“That’s a Disney princess name,” he says, unconvinced, how most drunk people were when you told them the truth.

“And my great-grandmother’s and mine,” she responds, a grin playing on her lips as she watches him think it over. “It’s wild how multiple people can have the same name. Did you know people can share a last name as well?”

He leans back in his chair now, unhappy with her snarky response.

“Isn’t that why we’re here, two people joining together and sharing the same last name now?” He threads his fingers as he speaks, mimicking something coming together.

“Yep,” She perks at the question he poses. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Her brows raise once playfully.

“What?” Harry seemed to have lost the plot, his fuzzy drunken brain choosing to forget the first thing she asked him while in this private ballroom of theirs.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She repeats, louder and with emphasis, the words echoing this time.

“Oh,” he looks up to the ceiling and blows air past his lips harshly, “S’ a long story.”

“We got all night,” she offers, and raises her glass to her lips once again.

“A night wouldn’t even cover half of it,” he ponders seriously, his mind reeling. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Why me?” She laughs like she’s just received the most delightful surprise.

“Because,” He starts and then sits quiet for a moment before leaning forward, elbows on the table as he peers at her, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You only just met me,” she responds. “Not to mention, you’re drunk as fuck, Best Man. Just minutes ago I watched you stumble in here and truly fall on your ass.”

“Then tell me about yourself and I’ll explain my hatred for weddings.”

“You’re awfully good at bargaining for being this inebriated.”

“I never lose my charm, no matter how pissed I may be,” he smirks and gives a sloppy wink, hair falling in his face yet again.

She scoffs, but she is rather amused and intrigued by the man beside her. His tie now completely loosened, hair falling every which way, and his green eyes set on her. The shiny shoes he wore slipped around on the ground as he shuffled his feet below him like a child wanting to go play. She figured it was just his drunk brain trying to amuse himself or something. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue. She at least had to entertain the foolish notion that maybe he actually was interested in getting to know her. If anything, it would help pass the time until she could go home.

“I’ll bite,” she relents.

The smirk doesn’t leave his face, it only widens, “Only if I can, too.”

“I wasn’t saying-”

“Shush, sh-sh-shush. I know that,” he holds a hand up at her, trying to get her to be quiet. He sways again, even in his seat he looks as if he could fall over at any moment. She wondered if he might not remember this tomorrow. “I was bein’...” he licks his lips in a pause, “suggestive.”

She laughs again, knowing his sober brain probably would have chosen a more articulate and suave word since ‘suggestive’ was rather tactless and more straight to the point. If she learned anything from all the conversations she overhead about him, Harry was definitely one for tact.

“You were something, that’s for sure,” she wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist, she draws the hand down from its hovering state and lays it against the table again. She withdraws her own hand back to her glass, her drink almost completely gone now.

He smiles, pleased with himself, but unaware that his charms had worn off with his exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed. At least on this girl they weren’t working. She had never been attracted to people who were too drunk to help themselves and she always hoped that’s how others felt too. She was thankful he had stumbled in on her rather than someone who didn’t feel the same way. It made her sick to think of what someone with evil intentions might do if they came across a babbling drunken version of Harry. Pushing those thoughts away since that wasn’t the case, she decided to pat his hand once just in reassurance to herself and him that this was really happening.

“I’m twenty-five.” She states.

Harry nods, a small smile on his lips now rather than a smirk as he watches her again. He liked how smoothly she moved rather than the rest of the world in his drunken eyes, everything else was choppy and fast. She was elegant and fluid, calming even.

“I love love,” Harry says, eyes remaining on hers, no trace of a joke in his tone, “And it hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” she squints at him, a frown gracing her face for a moment at the sadness she sees in his watery eyes. Not crying watery, just watery from his drunken state.

He says nothing, waiting for her to offer more information about herself before he says anything else. This was the deal after all. She quickly realizes why he isn’t responding and sighs, conversation with drunks was tedious already, but Harry seemed determined to make it even harder.

“I’m from California.”

“They always are,” Harry mutters to himself. He ignores her hum of a question, asking what he just said with a simple sound. “All my friends, they’re either getting married or they’re already married and got kids on the way or whatever. They all found love and I’m just here with fuck all.”

She sincerely doubts what the drunken man is telling her right now, but she knows how to play the game now to get more information. “I hate my job,” she states.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed, like I fucked up one too many times and now I’m doomed to never find love.”

Her eyes widen at this, he sounds so damn sad and she wishes she could take his pain away. She knew what a good guy and she couldn’t imagine why he would deserve to feel this way. No one deserved to feel like they weren’t worthy of love. His sad state truly almost brought her to tears. She’s there in a stunned silence and Harry is confused why she hasn’t said anything more about herself. It was her turn.

“What’s something else about you?” He asks, his hand fiddling with itself on the table. She notices once again that there aren’t as many rings on his fingers as what she thought was usual.

She licks her lips and reaches her hand forward. She grasps Harry’s fiddling hand and stops his movement. “I feel sorry that you feel this way, no one deserves the kind of pain you’re inflicting on yourself. I’m very very sorry for you, Harry.”

“That’s not really…” He trails off, losing his focus on her face and instead looking at their hands touching. The feeling is so intense in his buzzing body. Her touch was so calming compared to the electric feeling in his body. It felt nice.

“Can I ask you a different question and then I’ll tell you something no one knows about me?”

He nods eagerly.

“And you can’t dodge the question, you really have to answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What did you say at the end of your speech? It got drowned out by applause, but I saw you say something.”

“You noticed?” He asks kind of surprised, then scratches at his eyebrow. He sees her slight glare and knows to get to his answer. “Asked when it’d be my turn…like to fall in love, y’know.”

She sighs, saddened yet again by his words. “Okay, well, here’s my secret... I hate weddings, too.”

Harry’s eyes light up, maybe he really was in love. She purses her lips and pulls back from him.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he breathes out, again making a false confession. His drunken brain wants it to be true. He’s desperate for his search to be over, for her to be his person.

She smiles that same sad smile that she keeps getting when he says these sad things to her.

“I assure you, I am not, Best Man.”

He looks at her confusedly. She was beautiful, she was clarity to him. Her brown hair was straight with a little wave in it, like it was straightened for the occasion but never truly that way otherwise. It flowed around her head and shoulders, but she had it tucked behind both ears. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, she just simply was beautiful. Her sun tanned skin looked soft under the golden glow and Harry was sure she was an angel or something.

“Why not?” He insists, leaning forward.

She stands up from her seat. He follows clumsily behind her, standing as well. He was still taller than her even in her high heels. He smiled like a lovesick child down at her, his eyes as big as the moon. She bites at her lip as she sees him look at her so lovingly, so misguidedly. Then she leans up towards his face, up on her tiptoes and past his lips. Her hands hold him straight with them curled in his suit’s lapels. She presses a sweet and gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to his jaw than anything.

“Good night, Harry,” she whispers against his skin before pulling away.

His eyes flutter open, his looks at her confusedly, slightly unaware that he had closed his eyes at all.

“Good night…” He had already forgotten her name, something with an A...or was it an O? He’d have to ask Sarah and Mitch about the girl who had talked to him in the empty golden ballroom, the girl he had fallen in love with. He was certain. She was the one - if only he could find out her name. If he remembered this at all or if he just thought it was a dream.

She leaves the room before him and as she leaves she wonders if she maybe should have made sure he was alright, but she figured their talk was sobering enough. The night was ending and she had a sneaking suspicion that there were plenty of people here tonight looking out for him.

Harry forgot about the girl in the ballroom. Or at least he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. He had woken up at Tom’s place where he had said he would stay after the wedding reception so he hadn’t gone home with a girl. He couldn’t remember her name so he couldn’t really ask anyone about her and he didn’t exactly have a lot of people he could ask. He wanted to ask Sarah and Mitch, but they were already off on their honeymoon and he was one of those people who would never bother a couple on their honeymoon. He was too embarrassed to ask Renee and anyone else for that matter.

So, instead, he forgot. Harry forgot about her for three weeks until Sarah and Mitch returned. He had called them for a hike and lunch the moment their plane had landed. He had missed some of his best friends. It was a lull in the year, where he wasn’t touring or in the studio, just living and writing when he felt like it. So maybe he was in need of some inspiration.

“Ah! The Jones’!” He exclaims as he walks up to their parked car at the head of the trail.

Sarah laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes, half-heartedly since he’s just as happy to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“I missed you,” Mitch says as he brings Harry in for a hug.

“Don’t let the missus hear that,” Harry tuts while he sends a wink over Mitch’s shoulder to Sarah.

“It’s all he could talk about for the past few weeks,” Sarah jokes as she goes in for a hug with Harry. “How do you think Harry is? Hope he’s eating? I miss Harry.” She mimics Mitch’s voice.

Mitch shakes his head shyly, a smile spreading on his face after a moment. “That. Is not true at all,” he assures Harry, “But you do look a little thinner. What have you been eating?”

Harry elbows him with a grin, “I’m fine. Been bored so I’ve just been filling the time with working out.”

They start their ascent up the hill and into the canyon. Mitch nods, his worry for his friend subsiding momentarily before he says something strange.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, but you’ve been gone, about a girl at the wedding.”

“Oh?” Sarah gives Mitch a knowing look.

“Yeah, well the thing is, I’m not sure if she was real or not. I think she was real, but I was so drunk, there’s so many bits missing in my memory.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh. “You were very drunk, H,” Mitch confirms.

Harry ignores him, “I even asked her if she was real and she said yes, but y’know people can lie in dreams. All I remember is she was amazing and she had a princess name, I think.”

Sarah thinks about the guest list. “No princess names that I can think of. What did she look like?”

Harry squints ahead of them, his sunglasses pushing his curls back on the top of his head. “She had straight brown hair, not long or short. She said she was, uh, twenty-five. She was in lavender, I think.”

“You think a lot,” Mitch interjects which earns him a glare from Harry.

Harry thinks about this part that he remembered vividly, how she had been so confident that he wasn’t. He adds, “...And I told her I was in love with her.”

“Oh god, Harry,” Sarah sighs.

Mitch gives Harry an apologetic smile.

“She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t run off either. We talked for awhile.”

“Maybe it was a dream,” Sarah says.

“Okay, let’s see,” Mitch grows to be the leader of the investigation, wanting everything for his best friend to find the love he knew he deserved. “Twenty-five year old brunettes at our wedding who are single. C’mon there weren't that many people there.”

Sarah thinks about it again. “Renee’s sister is twenty-five. I don’t remember what she was wearing, I hardly saw her all night,” she pauses, “Which is strange since she wasn’t on the job for once.”

“What do you mean ‘on the job’?” Harry asks curiously, remembering his girl saying she hated her job.”

“She’s a wedding planner,” Sarah says, glancing at him because she was almost sure that Renee’s sister was not who Harry was talking about. “But she had referred me to someone else for the wedding, she consulted sometimes and got us a discount, but said she didn’t like working with people she knew personally.”

Harry nodded, how could Renee’s sister be his girl? How could a wedding planner hate weddings? And wouldn’t it be all the more awkward if the girl was Renee’s sister? Renee’s little sister, could it be? He had no clue.

“I don’t think it’s her, though,” Sarah gives a half-smile, “She’s not super...uh, how do I say this?”

As Sarah says “touchy-feely,” Mitch interjects.

“She’s pretty cold-hearted. She’s relatively nice, but what makes her such a good wedding planner is she doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality of it, she just understands other people’s emotions and knows how to make them feel amazing.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Sarah looks at Mitch with a strong glare. After all, he was talking about her best friend’s little sister.

“Well, what’s her name?” Harry insists, semi-off put, but knowing her secret made him think it was possible for Renee’s sister and his ballroom girl to be the very same.

“Rori Williams, think it’s short for something else, but I don’t know, as long as I’ve known her she goes by Rori.” Sarah gives Harry a sad smile and it reminds him of his mystery girl.

“Do you think I could meet her or something? I just want to know if it’s her.” Harry says as they reach the first peak on their hike. He looks out at the view from there, Los Angeles was green for once, but he knew it would quickly fade to brown and tan as the spring plants died off again from the summer heat.

“Pretty sure she’s off working on some destination wedding right now. She doesn’t like being bothered when she’s working,” Sarah gives Harry a look for two reasons as she says that. One, because she knows his next question would be to contact her anyway. And two, she’s saying how he is exactly the same, hates being contacted when he’s busy with work. “I can text Renee to see what’s up.”

Harry nods, “Please…” He begins to imagine Rori as his ballroom girl and mutters to himself, “A June Wedding…” getting lost in a silly little daydream.

“Harry Styles is asking after you,” Renee snickers over the cellphone line.

“What is this? The 1800s?” Rori sighs, as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She tries to brush her hair from her face with a flick of her head, which makes for a rather silly sight as her head and shoulder move awkwardly. “People don’t ‘ask after’ anyone anymore.”

She was in Hawaii, Maui specifically, steaming a sneaky last crinkle out of the latest bride’s wedding veil.

“Well, he still is doing it. You know how he is.”

“I actually don’t,” Rori responds, easily, ignoring the memories of her two encounters with him. “What does he want?”

“Wants to meet you or something,” Renee says easily. “Thinks he met you at Sarah’s wedding, obviously impossible since I know you scampered off half way through the reception and he was falling down drunk at the half way marker as well…” she trails off.

Rori knows her sister well and expects the next thing to come out of Renee’s mouth.

“Oh my god! Did you hook up with him?!”

Expecting this, Rori responds quickly and calmly, “No, we did not hook up, I would never... I did watch him fall on his ass, though.”

“So it was you!”

“What was me?” Rori squints her eyes at her sister over the phone and finally straightens from her steaming task. She feels like she’s only half paying attention to the conversation, especially since she had no intention of meeting up with Harry. He had been so sweet and sad, and she truly wished him the best, but she knew she wasn’t the answer to his problem.

“You!” Renee all but yells into the phone, “Are his dream girl! He’s been wondering if you were even real for weeks.”

“I’m real,” Rori sighs and crosses the room she’s in to sit at the desk she was using as a work space. She flicks through the planner she was using for the Hearst wedding, set to take place tomorrow. “But I’m certainly not his dream girl...I told him that when he said he was in love with me.”

“He what?!” Renee exclaims and hears her sister sigh once again, she knows Rori is growing tired of the conversation and is ready to offer an excuse to hang up any moment now. “Nevermind that, I’m going to tell Sarah to give him your number and the date you get back to Los Angeles. Keep next weekend clear.”

Before Rori can open her strawberry pink lips to reply, Renee is squealing a goodbye and hanging up. She felt her shoulders sag with the empty line, she reclined into the nicely plush swivel chair. This is why she stayed out of love and relationships when they didn’t relate to work, they were exhausting. Too much ‘he said, she said’ going on at all times. Color palettes, seating arrangements and menus were simple, they made sense, they could be arranged and put into place. Relationships were messy, the actual event of a wedding could even be messy, but when she planned them out, for a single moment everything was orderly and simple. She was in control. She knew she couldn’t be Harry’s dream girl because she knew she couldn’t control that situation.

Upon arriving back in the continental United States, at the end of June, Rori ubered immediately to her apartment in Silverlake. Well, it was a converted garage behind a house of a friend of Renee’s. Like most apartments in Los Angeles, it was funky, but it was Rori’s until she decided where she wanted to move. She never wanted to buy in LA and she never wanted to upgrade from the place she had called home for the past four years.

Almost immediately after dropping her pink work tote bag and worn backpack on the floor next to her medium sized navy suitcase, her phone rang through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting with an unknown number. A New York number. Possibly a new client, she picks up quickly and shuts the window-paned door behind her. The days were long, the longest day of the year had almost arrived, yet the sun was still beginning to set in the sky and turn the light blue into a painting of oranges pinks and purples.

“Hello?”

“Is Rori Williams there?” A British voice asks, almost timidly.

“Who’s asking?”

“...Harry.”

“I was told you’d be calling or something along those lines,” she smiles to herself.

Harry sat in his room, chewing at his lip, still unsure if the voice on the other side of the phone call was the woman he had talked to previously.

“Can we go for a drink sometime? How’s tomorrow?”

“Someone is quite enthusiastic.”

“It’s just...I’m trying to figure something out.”

“So I’ve heard,” she chuckles slightly.

“So you won’t tell me whether you’re the girl I talked to at Sarah and Mitch’s wedding will you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“So it’s a right Cinderella, if the shoe fits situation,” he mumbles, slightly to himself, but she hears him clearly.

She laughs.

“I don’t really care for Cinderella, I’m not really one for Disney princesses at all, actually.”

His breath catches, a foggy memory of something having to do with princesses tries to break into his mind. He couldn’t remember still and he vowed time and time again that he would never get that drunk again. Too much time lost.

“Alright, Harry. I’ve just gotten home from a work trip so I’m planning on a bath, some wine, and some terribly raunchy TV to get my mind off of my life. How about you pick a time and a place for drinks and hopefully I will show up? Great! Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just clicks the red button that hangs up the phone and goes on with her professed plans. Harry sits in stunned silence for a few moments, whatever he had gotten himself into was going to be a ride of a lifetime.

At a quarter past six, Harry sits anxiously at the bar top of a semi casual, semi fancy, totally cool bar he loved. It was private so he wouldn’t be bombarded with people, but it was still lively enough that it wouldn’t be dead silent if conversation lulled between him and Rori. That is, if she showed up.

His foot begins to tap, ever so persistently against the silver footrest at the bottom of the bar. His eyes shift from right to left, not wanting to order a drink before she arrives, but also not wanting to wait much longer and not order a drink. He’d waived off the bartender twice already.

She walks in, right on time, Harry had just arrived early. Her lips part into a happy smile at his anxious stance at the bar, he mirrors her expression at the sight of her.

She’s wearing a billowy white button down, the sleeves cinching perfectly at her petite wrists, cinched beneath a brown corset-like tank top. Her breasts showed their true size today in this outfit. She had the collar pulled out and the corset made it so that her cleavage was perfectly sculpted just beneath the crisp white cloth. Her pants were sleek and black, understated to draw more of a focus to her top as well as the lavender jewel inlaid pendant hanging just above the swells of her breast. Harry’s eyes dipped to that level for a moment, but quickly recovered to focus on her face. The night of the wedding had been blurry, but he was sure Rori’s face was the one of his mystery girl.

He’s shy tonight and a little more reserved than last time. He’s out of his comfortable bubble, what could anyone expect from a man so constantly watched. He fidgets with the top most button of his shirt that was buttoned and thinks about unbuttoning it to reveal a little more of his chest, but he refrains. At a friend’s wedding he feels safe, but in public he’s always watching, always aware of the possible prying eye. But like he had said drunkenly to Rori, he always maintained his charm, no matter the circumstances.

“Lavender was gorgeous on you, but this…” he gives a graceful sweep of his hand to gesture at her outfit tonight, “is extremely enchanting.”

“So you remember me in lavender? I thought you couldn’t remember me at all.” She grins as she stands directly beside him, similar to the first time they had chatted at a bartop.

Harry clears his throat at her tease, “I knew once I laid eyes on you, I would know. So now I know.”

She smirks at his reasoning and orders a vodka cranberry, both not wanting to get off her ass or look any certain way. Vodka cranberries were acceptable mature drinks, but not overly pretentious in any way. Harry tells the bartender to make it two. She looks at him with a discerning eye.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She asks as she slides into the bar seat that seems to be trying to look vintage but was likely made no less than five years ago.

Harry sits too, more easily since his legs are longer than hers. “We met in the ballroom for the first time, did we not?”

“No...we met at the bar in the reception room.” Her hand splays to feel the stone of this counter, cold unlike the wood of the previous one. “We were about this close after you’d rudely stepped ahead of me and ordered before I could...not that you noticed. I asked if you were having a rough night and you pretty much dismissed me.” She bites her lip as she tells him the story, her eyes widen as she watches the distress roll over his features at what she says.

“Oh god,” One of his hands reaches to grab her hand to emphasize his apology, “I’m so sorry, that’s so rude. I was having quite a rough night as you would eventually see.”

He stares at her face, trying to meet her eyes, but she’s glued to the sight of their hands intertwined. He was so smooth and it was making her melt, making the walls she had purposefully put up for this date weak. She had rules, especially for guys like Harry - not that there was anyone that compared to him in her life, but she had them and she knew she couldn’t just be swept off her feet by his sweet voice and gorgeous face that has the most puppy-dog look on it.

She knows she shouldn’t but the extra ice she had added to her personality melts away, her eyes going slightly moony as she watches him visibly relax again. “No worries, I enjoyed your company upon the second meeting, even if you didn’t even remember my name after it.”

“Well,” he finally catches her eye, “That’s where I have a bit of a bone to pick.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t tell me your real name...gave me some fake name I can’t even remember, but it certainly wasn’t…” His eyes shift to her pendant again and he looks back at her brassy eyes in the bar’s lighting. “If your name is Rori Williams, why is your pendant an ‘A’?” He says slowly, another foggy memory trying to break the surface of his knowledge but still failing.

She finally feels in control of the situation, calm and assured of herself, which was maybe unfair since it seemed Harry really had a hard time remembering that night and she could really fuck with him if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t - with those earnest eyes looking at her.

“I told you my real name the first time we talked, Harry. It’s Aurora,” she retracts her hand from beneath his grasp and touches at the necklace, “I go by Rori both socially and professionally, but officially it’s Aurora and this had been my great-grandmother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Almost as beautiful as its wearer,” he smirks, his gaze stuck on her face, attempting to convey something specific. She thinks she knows what he’s saying with his look.

“You’re quite the flirt,” she rolls her eyes playfully before specifically choosing to take a sip of her drink through the little straw the bartender had put in it. It draws Harry’s attention to her lips, and after a moment they were wet with a bit of excess vodka cranberry and Harry felt himself grow a little hot at the tips of his ears when her eyes meet with his. She had caught him staring, but he recovers easily.

“I remember telling you I never lose my charm, it’s true is it not?” Harry inquires, head leaning closer to her as he takes a sip of his own drink, making a show to lick his lips after removing them from the edge of the lowball glass.

Her laughter is loud but not overbearing, Harry thinks it’s the best laugh he’s ever heard even if she’s laughing at him. She’s true in that laugh, she’s not trying to make him fall for her with that laugh, it’s just her enjoying herself.

She responds with something sweet and the two begin the back and forth of a successful date. They both drink around three drinks as the night persists, but it’s enough for her to feel the burning pull inside the pit of her belly for Harry. His hands stay relatively to himself besides a few subtle touches at her hair and hands every so often, his feet are the ones to blame. At one point in the night, he hooks his loafer covered foot around her ankle and she is quick to lean into it, reciprocating the footsie with ease. Each brush of his leg against hers is electrifying, every nerve in her body was beginning to go crazy. She was buzzing in a way that she hadn’t when she had first encountered Harry. Tonight he was more suave, but with a tinge of timidness that made him irresistible.

Harry made sure he wouldn’t get drunk tonight, ordering only as much as Rori. He didn’t want to be the fool who couldn’t remember their time together, again. Plus, he didn’t want to forget any of their time together, he wanted to remember it all. Everything about her was amazing, the feeling he had about her, the nagging desire to meet her was for a reason, he was sure of it. If her voice was a melody, then she was the most beautiful love song he had ever heard.

At 11:30, he leans in close to Rori, his nose brushing at the hair tucked at her ear and asks her if she wants to leave. She looks at him confused, the warm feeling in her stomach falls because she thinks he wants to end the night.

“Oh,” she says dejected, she swore it was going well. “Right..That’s it.”

Harry’s brows crinkle at her sad face.

“No, love, I was saying,” he raises his brows, “Y’know.”

“Oh! Right! You just sounded so...I don’t know, serious.” She sinks in her seat, realizing her presumptions had been wrong.

“I was trying to be,” he twists his lips trying to find the word, as blush rises on his cheeks. “Seductive.”

The two of them are quickly realizing they can’t pretend with each other. Rori can’t keep up the harsh facade against love with him, he sees right through it. Harry can’t play his old tricks with her, she sees right through them.

She laughs again, “Well, it just sounded like you were bored. Sometimes your moves fall really flat.” She offers a sweet wink in consolation for his failed attempt at trying to really get her weak in the knees.

They were a lovesick mess together as they clambered off their bar seats and exit the bar that had gotten increasingly loud.

“So what’s next?” She asks on the warm summer night.

He steps closer and takes the liberty of fiddling with the strap of the corset she has on. His head is tilted down as he towers over her. “You know me Rori, I’m a hopeless romantic so I desperately want to take you out for dinner sometime and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but,” his breath fans over her face now as he shifts impossibly closer, “I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me. Just tell me what you’d prefer and it’s all yours.”

Her breathing has become a slight pant as his words wash over her. His nose brushes over the ridge of hers and she takes the moment to put her hands on his shoulders and pull him onto her. They were in the alleyway beside the bar, away from prying eyes except a few people too drunk to recognize Harry's face that is all but hidden in Rori.

“Harry,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as she makes the decision to cross them into the point of no return. She wants this too much. She hadn’t thought this would be how her night would go, thought she would brush him off and never see him again, but god, she needed his warm body everywhere. Needed him to touch every part of her.

“Rori,” he responds.

“I want the second one first,” she whispers, feeling a little too eager, but feeling Harry press excitedly against her reassures her.

His lips press a searing kiss to her and she makes a sound of happiness at the contact. Her hands fist at the fabric of his shirt as she presses her lips feverishly back onto his. Harry’s quick to grip at the back of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her tight to him as he licks into her mouth.

“Can still taste that last vodka cran,” he notes before kissing her again.

Their tongues rub against each other, sloppily but with a tenderness hidden there as well. She snorts at his words which makes him smile and they’re kissing is becoming more silly as they try to contain their laughter. He pulls away, finally giving up trying to maintain the kiss while they both laughed.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Harry asks as he leans his forehead against hers.

Rori’s eyes flicker open and stare into his, the focus only on his eyes and the sprinkle of light freckles and beauty marks below them. She nods her head, making his move with it. They both smile, trying to contain their laughter once more.

She presses her lips against his once more for a small peck and then lowers her head into the crook of his neck. The skin warm and smooth against hers as she whispers happily to him.

“It’s your turn now, Harry,” Rori says blissfully.

She had been the answer to all his questions.

#to lovers fic challenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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eisukevint · 3 years ago

Text

Always You

Eisuke Ichinomiya

This one’s for you @leoamber66 - i should be ashamed of myself for taking this long but here we are! your graduation and your birthday gift. and a massive thank you to @cupidocherie for major help bec idek where i would be without her😭😭 anyways enjoyyy, i love you <3

»»»»

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean when you tripped and almost fell in front of everyone on your first day in elementary school?”

“No! oh my god, I told you to forget that!”

“Pftt, how can anyone ever forget that? I’m sure soryu and luke remember too”

“I hope they don’t haha, but really, we’ve come so far” Yuki commented, reminiscing about one certain day.

Eisuke’s POV

“So children, today a new student will be joining us. This is Yuki Freya. I hope all of you will be nice to her and welcome her warmly!” The teacher, Miss Hale as she introduced herself, addressed the class.

“Yuki, you’re going to sit with Eisuke. Please raise your hand so she can know where you are, Eisuke!” Miss Hale announced.

The clumsy girl, Yuki, made her way over to me earning several stares from both girls and boys present in the classroom.

“Hi, i’m Yuki!” She enthusiastically said extending her hand towards me.

I shook her hand, “Eisuke”

“Nice to meet you!” She said and then turned towards the teacher as she started her lesson, not giving me a chance to reply.

At least her smile is cute.

»»»»

Yuki didn’t follow me around like the other girls in my class did. Instead, she became friends with Luke and Soryu who happened to be my best friends. They seemed to like her a lot. Now that was rare.

It was P.E. and the teacher partnered me with Yuki despite the other girls begging him to partner them up with me. I didn’t complain considering she wasn’t annoying like the others.

“Are you ready?” She asked me tying up her left leg with my right one, preparing for the three legged race. Why is this even a thing? Couldn’t we just race like normal people?

“Of course I am” Eisuke Ichinomiya is always ready.

It didn’t take long for me to come off my high horse when Yuki couldn’t keep up with my fast pace and fell down, twisting her ankle.

Yuki groaned in pain and tried to get up but failed. The P.E. teacher came forth and asked me to carry her on my back to the infirmary as a punishment which was just across the field.

“But it’s not my fault that she fell!” I retorted back despite knowing it was partly my fault she fell since I was moving too fast for her.

“She was your partner Ichinomiya, it’s your responsibility.”

“Fine” I said when I realised there was no getting out if it. With that, i asked her to get on my back and carried her to the infirmary.

As the nurse tended to her injury, she turned towards me with that same cute smile “Thank you, Eisuke”

I instantly felt a stab of guilt.

“Hmph, I didn’t do it for you” I didn’t notice the blush that crept on my cheeks but I did notice the way my heart flipped. Just as she was about to say something, Soryu and Luke came looking for her.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked to which she replied with a grin and swinging her leg back and forth.

“Never better!”

Seriously how can someone be so cute.

»»»»

high school

The murderous intent was evident in my eyes as I gazed at Yuki laughing at something the principal’s cockroach son said.

In the beginning, Frank tried to befriend me but I felt something was off and eventually it became very clear to me that he only wanted me to be a handy tool in his pocket ready for emergencies, so I shook him off pretty quickly. Somehow, Frank’s always lingering around me. He’s always loved to single me out whenever I express disinterest in something, in hopes that others would join in. Instead, the girls that fawn over me often tell him to shut up and then they’re confronted by his fangirls and in the end, it’s just a massive cat fight.

He’s nothing but trouble. As the principal’s son, he’s quite popular, almost as popular as me, and he can pretty much get away with anything. Luckily for him, he’s very sly. Hiding behind his minions, he’s never once flat out done anything. Good with underhanded remarks, letting other people take all of the blame, coercing them into doing what he wants. His little groupies pay no heed to any of this, all because he’s handsome. But there’s a large group of people who don’t like him, but nobody has ever said anything straight to his face, thanks to his feared status.

There were rumours earlier this year that on Valentine’s Day, Frank asked Yuki out but she told him that she wanted to focus on school. I’m surprised Frank didn’t get angry at her and punch a wall or something. That sounds like something he would usually do. While I’m proud of Yuki for turning him down, part of me hopes that what she said was just a lie she made up so she could just get away from him. But now, Frank and Yuki are partners on this project, I’m convinced this teacher is trying to set those two up. Soryu, who was partnered with this over-zealous girl looked as if he would smash either his own head or the girl’s if she didn’t stop with her chattering. I’ve been paired up with Luke, unfortunately I’ve been neglecting our work because keeping an eye on Yuki has become too much of a priority. I hate how he gets too close to her, the way he continues to flirt with her and the smug look that’s plastered on his face when he realises that I’m watching. All Luke can do is sigh and shake his head at me.

“I’d gladly switch with Yuki if I didn’t have to put up with him, Eisuke...”

“Hey watch out, you’ll hurt yourself!” Yuki yells, pushing him away before she yelps in pain, drawing her hand back.

For a split second, it’s like I can only see red. I march right up to their desk, in close proximity to the two only to see a red mark across Yuki’s hand. It looks painful. If Frank hadn’t been so careless then Yuki wouldn’t have gotten hurt. What were you thinking!? Why do you need to care so much about everyone else!?

“Oops, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“No, I’ll take her.”, I sternly tell Frank. Yuki insists it’s not too big of a deal and that she’s fine.

“Hmph, alright. I’ll make it up to you another way then, Yuki.”

“You don’t need to. Stay away from my girl.” I felt Yuki tense up beside me the moment those words left my mouth. Thinking nothing of it, I took her dainty uninjured hand in my right one and pulled her along with me towards the infirmary. Yuki, being the obedient and polite girl she was followed without a hint of refusal.

Upon our arrival to the medical department of the school, the nurse immediately treated Yuki’s injury. As I gazed at the familiar scene before my eyes, a certain memory played in my head.

“What’s with you and infirmaries?” Were the words that came out of my mouth the very second the school nurse disappeared, probably went back to her office.

She whipped her head towards me, a tiny smile adorning her graceful features. Adorable giggles escaped from her mouth indicating that Yuki too was reminiscing about that particular day.

“You’re too amiable for your own good.” I chuckled, moving to sit into the chair where the nurse was not long ago and grabbing her hand with the nasty burn on it.

“How dare he ruin your precious soft skin like this” Placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, I held onto it as I stared deep into her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Is it true you rejected him?” She stared back, cocking her head a little bit to her left at the question, confusion etched on her face.

“On Valentine’s Day, I heard he confessed to you but you turned him down, saying you wanted to focus on your studies. Is that true?” Her face lit up upon remembrance but an almost gloomy expression took over right after.

“Ah...yes, now that you mention it” I squeezed her hand a little tighter but not tight to enough to hurt her as I waited for her to continue.

“That’s only half true though..”

What?

“I also told him I like someone else.”

Oh.

I immediately loosened my grip on her hand.

So that’s why. Heh, what were you even thinking Ichinomiya?

Yuki glanced over to me, fidgeting in her seat with nervousness.

“Won’t you ask who it is?” This time, she grabbed my hand and lightly tug on it preventing me from standing up, causing her to hiss in pain.

“Does it even matter?” I sighed, patting her hand lightly with that flicker of hope in my heart slowly diminishing. As I was about to get on my feet a second time, she said those words which haltered my every movement, completely catching me off guard. Words i’ve wanted to hear for the longest time now from a certain girl I adored more than anything.

“It’s you, Eisuke.”

Good Lord.

“It’s always been you.”

Will I survive if my heart continues to beat this fast every time i’m around her? I’ll have to ask Luke later.

“Eisuke?” Yuki peered at my astounded face snapping me out of my daze. When I look back at her, I thought I could resist just pulling her into my arms and claiming her as mine but boy, was I wrong. I immediately grabbed her chin and captured her silky lips in a somewhat soft and gentle kiss. Laying every emotion bare into our first kiss, Yuki loosely wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she kissed me back with equal passion. We parted and just sat there basking in the pleasure of being in each other’s arms until I decided to break the comfortable silence since a significant amount of time had passed and we needed to go back to the lab.

“You’re mine and I won’t allow you to leave me.” She hummed in response and with a little peck on her lips, I pulled her up with me and exited the infirmary.

Our fingers intertwined perfectly as we walked back to the class feeling oddly at peace - mind, body and soul.

»»»»

“And Soryu teased us so much when we went back to class! But no one was surprised, I mean we were kind of inseparable...” Yuki said bashfully, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The diamond of her engagement ring caught the light of the setting sun.

“It’s because they knew you were mine.” Professing my undying love for her, I place a fierce kiss on her lips imagining a bright future with my one and only,

“Always have been and always will be.”

•••

#eisuke ichinomiya #kbtbb eisuke #leo amber #eisuke x oc #eisuke x mc #soryu oh #luke foster #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #ota kisaki #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #voltage inc #love 365 #otome romance #otome #fic #gift

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

growing pains (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: after the war and settling down with draco, the time comes for your children to attend hogwarts.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! reader

warnings: recollection of pregnancy, recollection of the war, crying, lots of cute fluff though :)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: i cried writing this. have fun.

Never did you think that you would have a normal life with Draco after everything that happened. The war took so much life away from you both; it showed you how truly ugly and vile the world could be. Especially Draco.

After the war, Draco refused to allow himself and his future family live in a world that was so cruel and unforgiving. Draco wanted to undo all of the wrongdoings he had done and work harder for a better future for himself, for you, and your family; it’s what you deserved, he told you. Draco wanted to give you the world and he would rest at nothing to do so.

Draco left his past behind him and moved from Malfoy Manor to settle somewhere new. A new start, a new life. You two were married immediately after the dust had settled from the war. The ceremony was very private just the two of you, professing your undying love for each other, Draco promising profusely that he would do anything and everything to keep you happy.

Life, for the first time, felt ordinary. And you thanked Godric for that. The two of you worked your jobs, supported yourselves, and were happy. And that’s all you could really ask for. You had everything you needed, a job, a roof over your head, and Draco by your side.

Although life was ordinary for the first time in years, Draco would do special things for you here and there to show you just how much he loved you and adore having you as his wife. During work, he’d send you three dozen roses to your desk, earning you strange glances as you just sat there, smiling like a school girl. Or when he knew you had an awfully long day, he’d draw you a bath and pour you a glass of wine and let you be for a few hours, letting you decompress. Or it could be something as simple as leaving you a love note on your pillow when he woke up before you. Draco was so thoughtful when it came to taking the time to appreciate all that he had. He had taken it for granted so many times in the past and with the war, it was all threatened. Draco learned quickly that he needed to recognize his blessings and take a moment each day to really show you how much he cared.

This was more than enough for you, just you and Draco living your lives together, relishing in this new life you created together.

But soon enough, Draco started casually tossing around the idea of having children. You had been married for a year when it he started toying with the idea of having your own kids. You were in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from that night’s dinner, Draco wiping down the table.

“(Y/N)?” he spoke from the dining room.

“Yes, my love?” you called back.

Draco walked into the kitchen, leaning on the door frame his arms folded across his chest. “Do you think we should move?” he asked, searching your face for a reaction.

Your eyes furrowed. You had been living in this house for a little over a year and you loved it. It was a symbol of your freedom away from the mess of your pasts and your renewed love and dedication to each other. Why would Draco want to leave this place you so fondly called home? You spoke your thoughts that swirled around your head, “Move? Why would we move?”

He peeled himself off the door frame and took a few steps towards you as you shut off the water and turned towards him to give him your full attention. “I think we’ve out grown this home,” he speaks. “Think about it. With my new business starting and with your promotions at work, we’ll both need a home our own offices. Not to mention, we’ll need a nursery soon and that means we’d have to covert the guest room into one, but where would your parents stay when they visit us. Besides, I want to move somewhere were my commute is shorter to work,” Draco shurgs, dancing around the fact that he just mentioned having a nursery in your home.

You stop him in his tracks, “Hold on there, lover boy,” you tease him with the nickname you’d given him back in your sixth year at Hogwarts. He smiles at the name, lightly laughing. “A nursery? Why would we need one of those?”

Draco inhales a deep breath and takes a step closer to you, placing a hand on your hip, pulling you close to him. “I love you, (Y/N). I always have. You are and will always be the most important thing to me,” he tells you as you smile, him kissing the tip of your nose. “I want to start a family together. We have more than enough money to move into a bigger house,” he refers to his hearty inheritance along with the money he’s made from his booming company, “we are both mature and ready, and don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t want a little Malfoy running around,” he teases.

You hated to admit when Draco was right. He saw the way you watched children play in the park around the corner from your home. How children giggled and played, their small feet running around, tiny voices speaking childish phrases, getting excited over new discoveries. Having a child with Draco would be a blessing. But you didn’t know if you were ready to be a mother yet. It was a large step, and one you wanted to take, it was just a matter of if you were ready for it.

Sighing, you brush your fingers through Draco’s blonde hair, a familiar feeling to the both of you. Draco lets his eyes flutter closed as he hums as you do so. “You’re right, Dray,” you admit as he smiles widely. A child. For the both of you. “But,” you interrupt, “I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mother just yet. I’m doing so well in my job and I love working. I’m not ready to give it up. This is only the beginning for me. And it’s not fair to ask you to leave your job to raise a child.”

Draco lets out a breathy laugh as he cups your cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb as you lean into his touch. “I’m not asking you to drop everything for our child, sunshine,” he tells you. “Besides, we can always take leave from our jobs temporarily on maternity and paternity leave. When you’re ready, you go back. I run my own company, darling. My own. I call the shots. If I need to work from home to raise the child we created, so be it. I’ll enjoy every moment.”

Your heart flutters as Draco speaks. He really was perfect.

And in nine months time, you had created the most perfect thing you could have ever imagined. Celeste Frances Malfoy. Celeste...your star. A gift from the heavens. Your family was as complete as the sky; Draco, the moon, you, the sun, Celeste, your star.

Watching Celeste grow up was like watching a movie unfold before your eyes. Your beautiful baby girl held the universe in her eyes. And boy, oh boy, was she her father’s child. Identical grey eyes and silver hair, but she had your smile and laugh that made Draco’s heart swell with so much love. She had Draco’s love of mischief and often found herself in sticky situations.

Once you had found Celeste sitting quite literally in the toilet, red lipstick from your make up bag smeared across her face and chest, along with the toilet brush. You gasped as you found her and stared in shock. “Cel, what did you do?” you laughed.

She simply smiled, that mischievous smile at the age of two, and spoke, “It’s my wand! Just like mummy and daddy!” She waved the toilet brush around, making small mouth sounds that replicated those of magic and your wand.

You laughed at the antics of your toddler. Instead of getting her out of the toilet bowl, you called out for your husband and called that he get the camera. This would be a memory you would love to keep.

Draco ran in and saw his baby girl in this predicament and burst out laughing. “What mess did you get into, my star!” he laughed as Celeste giggled along with him. “Merlin, I need to tell your Uncle Blaise about this!” he wiped his eyes from laugher.

The years past and Celeste grew and grew before your eyes. The more she grew up, the more she grew into her features. Her long blonde hair grew out and her eyes only grew to look more like Draco’s. But it became evident that your daughter possessed the same ruthless nature as you did. Celeste was bold and clever and wise beyond her years. She really was a perfect blend of you and Draco.

Knowing that you could make such perfect children, that only encouraged Draco and you to have more children. Draco insisted that he wanted five children, but you stared at him with wide eyes. “Do I look like Molly Weasley?” you laughed as he chuckled to himself. “How about three?” you suggested as Draco rolled his eyes.

“I don’t like odd numbers. What if two are very close and the third one feels left out. I can’t do that to our children,” Draco pleaded as you groaned. “Four? Four and I’ll never ask for anything else!” he begs as you roll your eyes, knowing damn well that him not asking for anything else was the biggest lie. “Okay, maybe not that, but four! Four is a great number!”

And in typical Draco fashion, he got what he wanted. Four children. Celeste, your oldest, your leader, your star. Xander, your second, the jokester, the pot-stirrer, but also the empath of the family. Sage, your third, the free spirit, the humble one, Miss Independent. And last, Nicolas, your last, the baby, the soft-spoken one, but incredibly defensive of your family and its honor. Your perfect family.

Each of your children all bore that same striking Malfoy hair, warning children to know who they were messing with. The girls looked much like their father, same hair and eyes, making your heart swell as you looked into their eyes. The boy, on the other hand, had Draco’s platinum hair, but your eyes and smile. The perfect combination.

Having such a large family meant chaos in the house. Celeste would often squeal about how Xander was bothering her while Xander tried to blame Nicolas for his pranks. Sage would quietly sit and observe before telling you the truth about what happened before going back to coloring. You laughed as Xander yelled at Sage for throwing him under the bus, but she just shrugged. The house never being silent always brought you a comfort that you never thought imaginable. The blabbering mouths of your children, the laughter, the fatherly voice of Draco booming over it all, catching your children’s attention.

Draco was a phenomenal father. You didn’t think he could love anything as much as he loved you, but you stood corrected. Draco loved you fiercely, but Draco poured his heart and soul into the needs of his children. Each child had a different relationship with Draco but each so beautiful and lovely. Celeste, being the oldest, idolized her father and how he treated you with such love and compassion. Xander insisted he wanted to be just like his father, smart, funny, and successful. “What more do you need?” Xander would shrug as you laughed. Sage loved Draco something wild, she would draw him little pictures that he’d tape to the walls of his office, she slept with his old quidditch jumper as if it were a blanket. The sight was heart warming. And Nicolas was the baby, Draco’s baby. Nicolas was Draco’s shadow, following him room through room, staring up at him with wide eyes. Your children loved each other and that was all thanks to how you raised them.

From a young age, you told your children that family was everything. You needed to protect and love each other because if you didn’t, who else would. From then on, your children were fiercely close and loyal to each other. You remember clear as day when Xander got into a fight on the playground and word got to Celeste. Celeste then gathered the other siblings and walked up to the child and scared the living shit out of the poor kid who thought to lay a finger on Xander Malfoy.

As your children grew up, you and Draco knew very well that a Hogwarts letter would arrive in the mail soon for Celeste as she approached her eleventh birthday. Your children knew of magic and magical abilities; you wanted them to know the powers that they would posses rather than shield them so they grew to fear it. Each child had a different reaction when they found out about magic, but all fears dissipated when you showed them each your wands and old robes. (Of course, Draco revering his time as a quidditch team member, Xander immediately yelling that he would also be a Seeker like his father.)

Soon enough, the eve of Celeste’s eleventh birthday rolled around and like you expected a letter dashed through the front mailbox and landed perfectly on the breakfast table as you sat down to drink your morning coffee. The pale beige envelope was addressed to Miss Celeste Frances Malfoy. A small smile grew on your lips as you sighed and looked towards your husband. Draco’s eyes laced together in confusion, but soon recognized the slip of paper you had in your hands. The two of you smiled at each other before Draco called out, “Cel! You have an early birthday present!”

Almost immediately footsteps sounded down the staircase before Celeste arrived in the kitchen. “What is it?” the almost eleven year old asked excitedly. You handed her the envelope with a beaming smile as she looked at you quizzically. She tore into the envelope and unfolded it to read the words scribbled onto the parchment. Soon, joy and excitement filled her eyes as she squealed out in excitement. “I’m going to Hogwarts?!” she yelled as you and Draco laughed.

You engulfed your eldest child in a tight hug as happy tears flooded your vision. She was growing up far too fast for your liking.

----------

The start of school eventually rolled around the corner as Celeste happily pushed all of her luggage through the train stations, veering around different platforms. Draco carried Nicolas in his arms as you held Sage’s hand in yours as Celeste walked ahead with Xander, blabbing about Hogwarts, smiles on both you and Draco’s faces.

Your eldest child was about to embark on the greatest journey of her young adult life and you couldn’t be more excited for her. You had no doubt that Celeste would excel at Hogwarts, taking after both you and Draco.

“Mum,” Celeste calls from ahead, “What house do you reckon I’ll be sorted into?” she asks.

You smile and look at your husband speaks before you, “I have my guesses, but I don’t want to influence you in any way, my star.”

Cel groans and speaks, “Come on! You reckon I’ll be a Slytherin like you?”

Draco laughs and tells his oldest child, “It doesn’t matter to me or your mother what house you’ll be sorted into. We know whatever house you are in, you’ll make us proud.”

Celeste smiles wide before looking at her surroundings realizing its come to the part she’s heard so much about. You look to Draco who nods as you sigh. Walking to Celeste, you place your hands on her shoulders. “You ready, star shine?” you ask, giving her shoulders a squeeze. Celeste gulps and looks at you, excitement and fear laced in her eyes. “We’re gonna run through together,” you aim the luggage cart at that all too familiar wall. “On the count of three,” you tell her.

Your daughter takes a deep breath in and huffs, “On three.”

“1, 2, 3,” the two of you speak before running directly at the wall, passing through with ease as another world appears before your eyes.

Multiple wizard families bustle through Platform 9 3/4, mothers calling to their children as fathers carry bags here and there. A smile forms on your face as Draco slides his hand in yours. “Looks familiar, doesn’t it?” he laughs as you roll your eyes teasingly.

You grab Celeste’s hand, “Come on, darling. Xander, push the cart for your sister. Sage, hold Daddy’s hand. She’s got a train to catch!”

Your family starts walking to the platform where the train awaited the loading of multiple new and returning students. Draco loads Celeste’s luggage onto the train with the help of Xander as Nicolas holds onto your leg and sucks on his thumb in wonder at the scene before him.

Turning to Celeste, you see watch her anxiously bite on her lower lip as you did when you were nervous. You place a hand on your daughter’s shoulder. “Cel,” you speak as she turns towards you. “This is going to be the greatest journey ever. Enjoy every minute of it because it goes by in the blink of an eye,” you comfort her as you see tears well up in her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart,” you pull her into a hug, tears forming in your eyes. You hold onto your eldest daughter, pressing kisses onto the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, star shine. You are going to be incredible. I have no doubt about that.”

Draco places a hand on Celeste’s back and rubs gently. “Your mother is right. When is she ever wrong?” he teases as Cel laughs and hugs Draco’s torso tight. “My star...” he gets choked up before breathing in. He squats to her level and speaks, “Have fun. Make friends. And don’t forget to write us.” Cel giggles as Draco smiles widely at his daughter. “My first born...go kick some ass.”

Cel laughs and hugs you and Draco tightly. You wished you could stay in this moment forever. It was so bittersweet. Watching your baby grow up before your own eyes, but doing everything you’ve ever wanted for her. “Okay, my star,” you pull away, letting her know it was time. “Kids, give Cel a hug goodbye.”

You smile, wiping your tears away as Draco wraps an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Your kids embrace in a tight group hug, telling each other how much they will love and miss Celeste. “I’ll be home for Christmas! I love you guys and I’ll see you soon!” Celeste waves as she climbs onto the train.

“Come on, Cel!” a voice calls out that you recognize as Tanner, Pansy Parkinson’s eldest daughter.

She’ll be just fine.

Celeste looks at you and Draco as you both send her a wink, letting her know she’ll be just fine. And there she goes, disappearing into the train car.

Slowly, you watch the train pull away from the station, waving at it, watching Celeste embark on the journey of her life. You turn to Draco, watching him gently wipe away the tears that escape his eyes. “Where did time go?” you whisper to him. “I remember being on that train.”

Draco smiles and looks at you, “I remember flirting with you on that train. And then you stomped on my foot and told me to piss off. Didn’t expect to be by my side years later with four children, did you?”

You roll your eyes, “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you, Malfoy?” you laugh. “Alright, my lovelies,” you call to your children. “Reckon we should get some ice cream to celebrate, shouldn’t we?”

Your children all cheer at the prospect of a treat as you scoop Nicolas into your arms, kissing his plump cheeks as he giggles. Sage jumps into Draco’s arms and Xander leads the way out.

With one final look back, you sigh out. This wouldn’t be the last time you did that. You still had three more children. But part of you wished it wouldn’t come as quickly as that just did. “One down, three to go, eh?” you tease Draco who laughs.

“Yeah! I’m next! One more year!” Xander exclaims as Draco tickles his sides.

“Yeah, a whole year! Don’t try and leave us too quickly,” Draco laughs as you join in.

It was almost surreal. The life you and Draco had built with each other. A life of love and beauty; beautiful and healthy children, successful jobs, a beautiful home to call your own, and all your loved ones safe and sound. You thanked your lucky stars that you had this life and that Draco was so adamant on giving it to you.

Draco looked back at you and noticed how deep in thought you were. As you walked through the train station, Draco took one of your hands in his. “I wouldn’t want to go through any of this with anyone else. I love you,” Draco squeezes your hand.

You smile fondly at your husband, brushing his cheek with your thumb. “I love you. Forever and always, my dear,” you whisper before giving him a sweet kiss in the middle of Platform 9 3/4 just like you had done so many times before.

Times flies when you’re having fun.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco Malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #harry imagine #Harry Potter Smut

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ismokechurros · 3 years ago

Text

misunderstandings - ao3

When his mark first appeared, he hated it. He was five and didn't quite like that the first thing he would ever hear his soulmate say would be

"I'm sorry."

What did that mean? Would his soulmate hurt him? Would that be the very first thing they did? That can't bode well for a long term relationship.

Besides that depressing thought, another issue he had with it was how common it was. People apologized every day, how was he supposed to find her?

His first mistake was thinking it was his kindergarten teacher, who apologized after he ran into her feet. It was hard to explain to his parents why he got sent to the principal's office on his first day of school, hugging a teacher's leg and professing your undying love for them isn't exactly a common offense.

After that, he tried not to get too excited when he heard those words. And as time went by, he succeeded. Slowly, his head stopped shooting up everytime someone near him apologized, his heart rate stopped skyrocketing when a passerby said sorry, he grew to feel the general disdain and doubt most feel in accompaniment with apologies.

Those two, meaningless words scrawled at the top of his right bicep were left ignored and he went on forgetting they existed for the better part of 17 years.

----------

She was five when her mark appeared, too, though that seemed to be a common age for the mark's development so she wasn't exactly surprised. What she was surprised by was the

"You're okay."

now sprawled on the bottom right side of her neck. An odd place for an odd mark.

In her five-year-old indignation, she resented the fact that her mark was telling her what she was. She could be not okay if she wanted to be, who was her soulmate to tell her that she wasn't!

A stupid fight to pick, and one she dropped after about two minutes. That was how long it took before the girl next to Nancy screamed and then started crying. Apparently, Amy didn't like that the first words her soulmate would say to her would be asking for her starbucks order.

Nancy decided it could be worse.

---------

Working at The Claw can't be that bad, Nancy thinks as she enters the restaurant for her first day at work. She needs to get her mind off of her mother's death and making a few bucks in the process couldn't hurt. Plus, it would help ease the financial burden of college- if she still stood a chance of getting in, that is. Her senior grades (and attendance rate) weren't exactly "Columbia Material", no matter how good her essay was.

Walking from the door to the back room, Nancy makes sure to take into account everything she sees on the way. Two truckers eating greasy cheeseburgers at the counter; a woman drinking coffee alone at a table; a family celebrating their daughter's graduation in a booth. Another reminder of the life Nancy won't get to lead.

Reaching up, Nancy rubs the side of her neck where she knows, under several layers of foundation, there's a reminder that she's okay. Her soul mark has grown to be something of a saviour for her these past couple months. A reassurance everytime it seemed her demons were getting a little too close to snuffing out her light, her crutch at her most debilitating moments. Nancy thinks, whoever her soulmate is, they must be a decent person if they’re able to give her this much comfort.

“Drew! Your uniform’s in the back, I’m not paying you to stand there and look pretty! You did enough of that in high school!”

Ah yes, George. No matter how many times Nancy tries to proclaim her innocence, George refuses to believe she didn’t play a part in spreading the rumors that ruined her life in high school. And honestly, maybe she was right. Nancy may not have spread any rumors, but she definitely didn’t stop them. Maybe she does deserve George’s wrath. Besides, what’s another person added to the list of “People Nancy Drew Has Failed”. George can go right under her mom.

At this rate, she might need to put more foundation on her mark.

“Now, Drew!”

Eh, she’ll do it at lunch.

-----------

One month in and Nancy thinks she’s got the job down pat. She’s at least doing better than some people.

Dishes clatter in the kitchen as pots hit the floor.

“Oops! Sorry!”

Speak of the devil. Nancy goes to the kitchen to help Bess, because Bess has needed nothing but help since the day George gave her the job, but when she opens the door she's met with a peculiar scene.

Bess, the endearing clutz she is, is on the floor trying to pick up the pots but somehow making a bigger mess. Ace, on the other hand, is just staring.

Nancy hasn’t known Ace very long, hasn’t even talked to him directly, but from what she’s seen he’s at least helpful. He cleans up after himself, stays late to do inventory, cleans out the grease traps, all without complaining. Yet here he is, staring at Bess on the floor and doing nothing.

Nancy wants to call out, ask why he isn’t helping, or at the very least say excuse me on her way to help Bess collect the pans, but oddly enough she can’t find the words. She just stares at him with that confused look on her face.

It seems she doesn’t need to say anything, though. As if the question on her face was spoken aloud, Ace snaps out of his reverie and bends to help Bess. He’s smiling at her a little too much, and Nancy can tell where this is heading before he even opens his mouth. She decides to make a clean exit before she’s forced to watch him try and fail to shoot his shot with her royal waitress Bess.

------

Nancy just needs a minute. She needs a second to breathe. Serving her high school friends and having to listen to their patronizing and pitying tones while she can hear them laughing the second she turns around is not what she signed up for.

To make matters worse, she’s about one more rub away from her mark making its presence known and she doesn’t need the added stares today. She doesn’t quite understand the taboo of revealing your soulmark to others, but today may not be the best day to tackle generations worth of unnecessary forced modesty.

She rushes through the back door, the mocking sounds of laughter cut off as the door swings shut behind her. Apparently god isn’t on her side, though, because the second the door shuts, the freezer opens and Bess exits carrying boxes stacked a good foot higher than her. Boxes that topple over as she tries to close the freezer behind her.

Normally, Nancy would help Bess out. God knows she’s gotten used to it, and Bess is a nice enough girl that Nancy doesn’t totally hate doing it. But right now, the noise from the boxes is too loud and sounds suspiciously like laughter and Nancy can’t really breathe so she doesn’t think getting near the cold, thin air of the freezer is gonna help her.

And so she ignores Bess’ apologies and pleading eyes and instead barges through the backdoor, hoping to get some much needed air in the alleyway behind The Claw. Instead, she faceplants into a cotton cladded wall.

“I’m sorry.”

She maneuvers around the person she ran into, avoiding eye contact and desperate for some space. She reaches the wall across from the door and puts a hand on the cool brick hoping it’ll help ground her. Leaning forward against the wall, the other hand immediately goes to her neck.

“You’re okay.”

Suddenly, struggling to breathe is less of an issue than not breathing altogether.

Nancy slowly turns and stares at the man who she is destined to spend the rest of her life with.

Ace slowly blinks back.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. Nancy can’t really respond, considering the fact that she can’t breathe.

“Woah, Nancy. You don’t look so hot.” Great, my soulmate thinks I’m ugly. Nancy urges herself to use her actual brain for a second instead of whatever it is she’s using now because obviously that one isn’t working.

Still, she says nothing. Ace takes the silence as an invitation to lean against the wall across from her. They continue to stare at each other; her like a deer in the headlights and him entirely too mellow for someone who just found their soulmate. Unless he didn’t.

That’s not a thought Nancy wants to have. But now that it’s out there, she can’t stop thinking about it. Does it work like that? Can the whole soulmate thing go unrequited? Some memory escapes the precipes of her mind, a brief chapter on soulmate history she had to read for class. It was her senior history class, so she didn’t really pay attention, but she does remember reading something in there about a rare percentage of the population that had one sided soul marks. She also remembers thinking about how sad of a life they must lead.

And it's not like she's wrong about this, especially since Nancy’s heart feels like it’s about to explode and she instinctively knows the only thing that can calm her down is standing there, staring at her with glazed eyes.

“Want one?” Ace asks, materializing a blunt out of seemingly thin air. “They always help calm me down.”

Now the glazed eyes make more sense. Nancy reaches for it without thinking, the brief touch of their fingertips as the weed changes hands works wonders for calming her down. She is finally thinking a little clearer, breathing a little easier. She stands taller and some of the tension escapes her body.

“See? Works wonders for the nerves.”

If he wants to attribute her abrupt demeanor shift to his weed, she won’t correct him. Instead, she thinks about how this is the first real time he has talked to her. She wishes it happened sooner, his voice reminds her of waves crashing on the shore and when he talks she thinks she’s found her happy place. She’s never hated herself more.

Taking a hit, she passes the blunt back to him and relishes in the little contact that brings about. How lame is it that she’s pining for a guy who is destined to be with someone else.

“You seem more relaxed now, if you wanted to talk about anything, I’m here.”

She does. She wants to talk about how she feels more at ease and safe with him, here in this alleyway, than anywhere else; how she hasn’t felt peace like this since her mom died; how he has a calming effect on her that she wishes she could use like a drug; how she’s scared it might become one.

But she can’t talk to him about that at all, because she knows that though her soul finds peace with his, his soul fits better with someone else's. She doesn’t want to guilt him into any half-assed relationship, figures it would be better to become his friend and get to experience the safety and comfort he exudes at a safe arms-length away.

Instead, she talks about the ways everything has gone wrong in the past year (she avoids bringing up how he could have been her first right thing in a while). He listens as he smokes through the whole blunt, his eyes getting heavier as she continues. She’s confident he won’t remember anything tomorrow, thankful she won’t have to explain her near-meltdown. But above all-else, she’s sad. She really is doomed to go through life alone, she doesn’t get anyone to help shoulder her pain. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it.

When she finishes her sob story, he thanks her for sharing it with him. She nods but doesn’t say anything, afraid of what she might reveal if she opens her mouth again.

“DREW!” An angry George calls from inside.

“That’s my cue.” She makes to leave but is stopped by an arm on her hand. She tries to ignore her heart screaming.

“Hey, I really liked talking to you. We haven’t really done that before.”

She nods, trying to make it seem like she just doesn’t want to talk and not like she physically can’t (not while he’s touching her).

He doesn’t let go, though. Instead, he stares at her with more consciousness in his eyes than she thought he would be capable of by now.

“You’re not alone. I don’t know why, but I feel like you need to hear that.” His voice is soft and quiet and warm, low tide at sunrise.

Nancy’s eyes widen (though her heart warms) and he let’s go. She heads inside without another word, hand rubbing her neck on the way in.

Nancy decides to invest in neck ties.

#ndcentral #plz tell me what you think #im desperate for validation #nancy drew #nace #ace x nancy #nancy x ace #soulmates #hiatus week one #also i dont know how to work this app #someone tell me how to post a preview #also please dont judge me too hard i TRIED #nace fanfiction

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apiratewhopines · 3 years ago

Text

This one is a gift for @teamhook because she is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.

Thanks to @jrob64 for giving me advice on artwork and to ultraluckycatnd for reading over this chapter

Midnight

Chapter 1 — The Prince

Summary: In which our heroine meets cute

Chapter 1 of 7 on AO3

“But don’t forget folks,

That’s what you get folks

For makin’ whoopee”

-Makin’ Whoopee, Eddie Cantor

Emma Swan had been in some tight spots, but she’d never been in a run out of gas on a deserted highway with a dying cell phone battery and a stomach as empty as her bank account kind of situation before. In truth, she blamed this unfortunate situation on the same person she blamed all the misfortunes of her adulthood. Neal Cassidy.

There was a time a few short months ago she would have done anything for the man responsible for her current circumstances. Neal had been too good to be true. A real Prince Charming, down to the supposed trust fund and a smile that made her believe in happy endings.

She’d been a sucker. She heard one was born every minute, she just never thought her time would come. After all, one of the few things she learned in the foster system was how to spot bullshit from a mile away. But he looked at her with his soulful eyes and whispered promises in his smoky voice and she fell for it. More than once, actually, and all she had to show for the wasted years was a voicemail box full of collection calls and a wolf at the door.

Because Neal Cassidy didn’t just leave her. He stole her identity, maxed out her credit cards, and took out half a dozen loans in her name. Then he proceeded to use the money to wine and dine a wide assortment of women, the sheer number of which would make Casanova blush. All the while professing his undying love and spending his days eating all her food and watching television from his favorite seat on the couch.

Seriously, you could still see the faint outline of his backside on the cushion.

As countless victims of his schemes started showing up at her door looking for the man who made them feel alive while killing them one dollar at a time, she listened to tears and rants and misery with ill-disguised impatience. How had she become the counselor to the trail of broken girls he left in his wake? When was it going to be her turn to moan and groan and swear she’d never love again?

Well, she did get around to the swearing to never love again part. Some mistakes don’t bear repeating.

The final straw happened two months ago. Neal had disappeared after their final fight. His righteous indignation at being called on his crap and inability to find a plausible excuse for the stack of overdue bills and statements she found stuffed in the back of his gym bag made it difficult to share the same space. She wanted him gone even as her hands itched to touch him one more time.

Unfortunately, leaving her drowning in debt with the knowledge he cheated on her for the majority of their relationship wasn’t enough for him. He decided to do some collateral damage on his way out of town.

He did the unforgivable. He went after Granny.

His target was meant to wound her. While he lied and schemed the entire time they were together, she had been an open book for the first time in her life so he knew Granny was the sole connection she formed as a foster. Her brief stay with the woman before she aged out of the system was a time of peace and healing. Granny was responsible for helping her get on her feet and the two maintained a friendship years later.

Emma received the frantic call from Ruby explaining her grandmother had been tricked into giving Neal a blank check so he could do her grocery run. Hours later, she received a notification from her bank saying her checking account had been wiped out. At that point, the tenuous control Emma had on her emotions disappeared. She sat on the kitchen floor of the apartment she was about to lose, staring at empty walls that still echoed with his laughter in her weaker moments, and she broke into a million pieces.

So it was no wonder she vowed to have her vengeance. To do anything and everything to make him pay. Luckily, since he skipped out on a court date, catching him would also get her paid.

Tracking him had taken more time than she liked to admit. She was good; even penniless and running out of options, she recognized her worth and knew she possessed hard to find skill sets. But she had a sinking sensation that he might be better.

Now she was stranded on the side of the road with nothing except her most uncomfortable shoes to keep her company. But damn did they make her legs look good and with everything else in her life collapsing around her, somehow that seemed important.

Squaring her shoulders, she climbed out of the car and pondered her next course of action. She was unfamiliar with the state road connecting the two small towns on the Maine coast, so she had no idea what the odds were that a good samaritan would happen along. She had just enough juice in her battery and lettuce in her account to call for an Uber to take her to the seedy nightclub where Neal was last seen. Or she could walk the rest of the way in her mile-high heels knowing she never looked better, even though she would probably not be able to move the next day without a significant amount of pain.

What she would do if she found him or where she would stay if she didn’t weren’t questions she was ready to entertain.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and with a huff of frustration opened her app. Pleading with whatever powers that be to let her last long enough to see herself through to the other side of this, she leaned against her beaten down yellow Bug and waited for the black sedan to show.

Of course, her phone died immediately after she booked her ride, finally giving up the ghost even though she didn’t get a chance to see the name or license plate of her hired car. Getting more anxious by the minute, she paced along the shoulder, careful to keep on the pavement since the ground was soft from recent rain. After what seemed like forever, but had probably not been more than half an hour, the headlights of a lone car crested a nearby hill.

“About time,” she muttered. To make sure the driver knew she was not pleased with the delay or the prodding pace he maintained despite the fact the sky seemed ready to open at any moment, she moved out into the middle of the lane and placed her hand on her hips. Pride kept her from squinting even though the bright high beams made her eyes water as the car approached.

Slowing from a crawl to a stop, the driver put the car in park and jumped out. It was dark and the man was dressed all in black, but as he moved around to the front of the car, she got the impression of blue eyes and a stubble-covered jaw that could probably cut glass. Great, just what she needed. A sexy Uber driver.

“Alright there, love?”

With a British accent. He probably smelled like bacon, too.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all night.”

Moving closer, he smiled with a hint of confusion. “Had I known you were waiting for me, I would have been along sooner. Tell me, do you always accost strange men in the dead of night on empty roads?”

“Only when I’m paying them to take me where I need to go,” she grumbled, walking toward the back door on the passenger side. She pulled it open as he protested, and glared at him over the top of the car.

“Love, I think there may be a bit of a mix-up—“

“It’s fine. I won’t give you a bad rating for being late as long as you don’t talk to me. I’ve been driving for hours to get here and I need to think.”

She heard him sigh and saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled at her again. “Very well. Would you like me to get your bags?”

“You’d have to go to a pawn shop in Boston to accomplish that,” she joked, dropping into the leather seat and noticing for the first time the expensive luxury of her rented carriage. She supposed if she was going to spend her last dime on a ride, she could have done far worse.

She resisted the urge to use the low ambient lighting of the dashboard to get a better look at her temporary chauffeur. The glimpse she got outside was more than enough to know she needed to keep her distance. It didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of his stare as he peeked over his shoulder while clicking on his seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw his tongue flicker slowly over his bottom lip before he turned his attention back to the road.

“Nice dress. Where are we heading this fine night, Miss…?”

“You’re really terrible at this. Is it your first time being a driver for hire?”

“What gave it away, love? It’s quite an unexpected development that came about just this evening. But you know what they say, you never forget your first.”

It was everything she could do not to laugh. She had a feeling it would only encourage him and if she was heading into battle, she needed her wits about her. “The Snakehole Lounge.”

“At the risk of sounding cliche, why would a nice girl like you want to go to a place like that?”

“I’m not a nice girl,” Emma informed him without a hint of irony or bravado. “And your rating is going down with each syllable out of your mouth.”

“Tough lass,” he murmured. “But do yourself a favor. Stay away from the Snake Juice.”

Little did he know that even if she wanted to have a drink, and boy did she ever, she used the last of her meager funds to get to this backwater place and she wasn’t sure where her next meal would come from. “I’ll do my best.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence. She spent the time looking out the window at the trees flying by and trying to ignore how every time she looked away, her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror.

Honestly, it was probably a good thing they were the only people for miles around or he would have gotten them both killed.

Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of a shabby nightclub. Even the multitude of neon lights flashing “Girls! Girls! Girls!” and “Half-Price Beer Buckets” did little to enliven the dingy exterior. They didn’t bother with a bouncer, probably because no one actually wanted to get in.

Before she could say anything, her driver was out of the car and rounding his way to her door. She didn’t have a chance to object as he opened it and looked at her with avid curiosity. She had to admit she was impressed he didn’t give into it and ask any questions.

“Since we’re out of the car, am I allowed to speak again?”

Perhaps she had been too hasty in her internal praise. “Thanks for the ride. I hope your next passengers are more chatty since that’s what you’re into...overall, a solid three stars.”

“Three stars? I’d be surprised, but I had a feeling you were warming up to me between the baleful stares and eye-rolling.”

Gifting him with another of the said eye rolls, she adjusted the hem of her skirt to show a little more leg and walked away. She knew if she stayed a second longer she would give in to the almost magnetic pull of him and say something foolish like, ‘What’s your name?’

—

The inside of the establishment was every bit as horrible as the outside. The low lighting obscured the grime and wear that would be glaringly obvious otherwise. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the kind of place Neal would gravitate to since he was a dirty little rat.

Music heavy with bass pumped out a rhythm entirely too fast for the energy of the place. The few patrons who persevered this far into the night looked anemic as tired dancers did their best to act like they wanted to be there. Pulling her ID from the scrap of a bra she wore under her dress, she flashed it at the lone employee who manned the entrance and the bar. He gave it a cursory glance and turned back to his phone.

Snapping her fingers under his nose to get his attention, she pulled out a grainy photo of her quarry from the same location and asked, “Have you seen this man recently?”

“I’ve never seen anyone. Ever.” The man grumbled, not interested in the slightest. She wondered if he would stop her if she walked behind the counter and helped herself to a drink. She was leaning toward no and tempted to try.

“Tell you what buddy, take a good look at this picture. Then look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t seen him and we’ll end the night without any trouble.”

Something in her tone must have penetrated his disillusionment and he gazed at her with more interest than he’d probably shown anything in years. She waited as he glanced at the photo for a few seconds. “No, sorry. If he’s been here, it wasn’t during any of my shifts. Is he your husband or something?”

“He’s something alright,” she muttered. Defeated, she turned around without another word. She used the last of her resources to fund a wild goose chase, but at least it got her into town. Only thing left to do was find a park or quiet bench somewhere safe to sleep for a few hours and then she would tackle whatever came next. It wouldn’t be the first time she roughed it, although she had never attempted it in formal wear before.

Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, she immediately froze. Her three star driver was waiting at the curb as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she hadn’t given him the brush off.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yes, especially since I’m pretty sure our business is done,” she replied, walking past him and wishing the man could be a tiny bit less handsome. Now that the streetlights of the small town were there to illuminate their interactions, she couldn’t deny he was ridiculously attractive and exactly her type, complete with a black leather jacket and messy hair begging to be pulled. And, heaven help her, he was determined to extend their acquaintance apparently.

“It’s just good sense, love. I figured you’d be in need of transportation again, so why waste the gas to leave when I’d have to turn around after you called for your next ride.” He matched his stride to hers as she did her best to increase her pace.

Sighing, she stopped at the corner and looked at him. “Listen, I could tell you my phone is dead and I need to make a few more stops, that I’d pay you when you drop me off at my place at the end of the night, but it would be a lie. I’m chasing down a bounty. I need the money to pay for a ride and I need a ride to make the money. A smart man like you can see the problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She turned away again but felt him leap into action behind her. He moved to cut off her escape and said, “Double or nothing.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Double or nothing, sweetheart. I take you to wherever you need to go tonight and when you collect your fee, you pay me double whatever the normal fare is for jaunts like these.”

“What if I don’t find him?”

“That’s where the nothing comes in, lass. A smart woman like you can see the benefit of such an arrangement.”

She studied him, hoping to find some ulterior motive in his seemingly selfless offer, but all she saw in his expression was an earnestness bordering on being painful and a thirst for adventure barely contained. Perhaps this was how he got his kicks in an isolated town. He propositioned strangers and gambled on fate. “No strings? No funny business?”

“This whole business is funny, but I’ll behave myself if you will. We’ll have much less satisfaction that way, but I’ll do my best to rally my spirits and overcome my disappointment.”

With a rueful shake of her head, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I guess we’re doing this. I’m Emma Swan.”

“Killian Jones, driver extraordinaire and captain of this fine vessel, at your service. Where’s our next stop?”

“I need to go to every seedy bar and filthy dive in the area so you tell me, Captain.”

—

She wasn’t sure what it said about her newfound companion that he was able to rattle off several places in a matter of seconds, but as the night stretched on and the miles racked up, she found she rather liked her tour guide. Which was probably a good thing since at this rate, she would be splitting the bounty fifty-fifty with him. Who knew the twin cities of Storybrooke and Misthaven had so many sleazy places to hang out?

“I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, Swan. Are you sure he’s in the area, because every traveler worth his salt makes a point to stop by Moe’s Tavern while visiting our fair city.”

“I can see why. The thrift-store ambience is delightful and the watered down drinks are to die for,” she murmured as she rested against the side of his car. She was tired and weak from hunger and as much as she wanted to curl up in the back seat and sleep, she was scared she’d get used to the comfort he was offering and do something she might regret later.

She was trying to figure out how to cut and run without seeming ungrateful when her stomach growled loudly.

In a playful tone belaying the concern in his eyes, he asked, “Was that your stomach? Bloody hell, am I in danger? Are you going to try to eat me to satisfy the beast within?”

Feeling a blush color her face, she avoided his gaze as she said, “Sorry, I...um, I skipped dinner.” And breakfast and lunch for that matter.

Taking up a position next to her, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell the truth, when was the last time you ate something, lass?”

“Hmm, what day is it again?”

“As I suspected. Come on, I know just the spot.” Pushing off from the car, he gently moved her and opened the door to the backseat.

She wanted to fight, to tell him she could take care of herself. She would have too, if she had any energy at all. Meeting his eyes for the first time, she joked, “You lost a gamble, Captain. That doesn’t mean you have to feed it.”

“I consider it an act of self-preservation. I figured you for a man-eater the first moment I laid eyes on you, but I’m afraid you might prove me right in unexpected ways if we don’t get some food in you soon.”

“As long as eyes are all you plan on laying on me, I accept your gracious offer,” she replied with a narrowed stare. Before Neal, she trusted her instincts. She would have insisted they were infallible, but he had shaken her confidence. She couldn’t risk being wrong about Killian Jones of the electric eyes and perpetual helpfulness.

“No strings. No funny business, Swan. Those are the rules. Get in, your chariot and dinner awaits.”

He stood a few feet from her, urging her into the car and she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it, but before she could change her mind, the words were out. “I’d rather ride in the front this time if that’s okay with you.”

His smile could have melted metal, tempted angels to fall, and inspired devils to repent. It was probably lack of rest and food causing her stomach to do flip flops. Or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have…” He closed the back door with a firm finality that echoed through the night and somehow felt momentous in the thick air of summer. When he opened the passenger door, the light seemed warmer and it bathed him in softness and shadows. He waited patiently as if he knew something had shifted between them and he didn’t want any sudden movements to break the odd spell.

Then her stomach growled again, angry at the promise of food being delayed while she gawked at the man who was determined to rescue her in every imaginable way.

“And dinner, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered, taking care not to make contact with his body as she slid into the seat. She was glad the door was already closed when she left out a huff of air. Good thing she had sworn off love or she may be in some danger.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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I’m in Love With You Dumbass (Christen x reader)

Request: R are in love with Chris and she’s close with Chris and Tobin so she really think that she wont stand a chance. R is USWNTs videographer/content creator.

Authors Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause without her this would probably still be trapped in my drafts. Also this turned into something a little silly and a little fluffy, and i really hope you enjoy it!

You blinked at your laptop, squinting as you processed the ten thousand pictures that you had taken during national team practice trying to decide which ones you wanted to put out for the fans.

It was always a balancing act, giving them little glimpses at training and not giving your major secrets away, but you had mastered it over the years.

You bit your lip as you swiped past several pictures of your best friend (who you totally didn’t have a crush on). The shot was perfect, well almost. Her green eyes were shining, and her dimples were showing. The only problem you had was that the smile was directed at one Tobin Heath instead of you.

You were so focused on picking out a picture of Christen that you didn’t notice you were no longer alone in the dining hall. Hell, you didn’t notice anything until two hands landed on your shoulders.

“Hey,” Emily yelled directly in your ear, you jolted in your seat, nearly falling as Emily and Lindsey cackled.

You held your hand over your chest, fighting a smile of your own. You might not like being scared, but at least they were having a good time.

“What are you two up to down here?”

“Trying to fight the boredom of a lazy day. What are you up to?” Lindsey laughed, settling down into the seat beside you, and leaning over to look at the photos displayed on your laptop.

“Just editing stuff for tomorrow’s release,” You shrugged, clicking so the photos advanced forward.

“that last video has the fans going crazy,” Emily mumbled, leaning over the back of the chair to get a better view of the screen, and smirking when she saw a string of pictures focused on a certain forward.

“Hmm, I’m glad, but it’s you guys who did all the work, I just shot the camera,” You hummed shaking your head. The women were so charismatic and funny that most of it took almost no artistry on your part. You just had to aim and capture. They were the ones giving you golden content.

“Don’t sell yourself short, you edited like 15 hours of footage into 8 minutes,” Lindsey snorted, and you blushed just a little. Most people didn’t realize how much time a single clip took to put together, so it was kinda nice to have the acknowledgment.

“But I have a question,” Emily said, her head popping over your shoulder as you began to edit one of the clips from today. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just Tobin threading a ball through for Christen.

“Yeah Sonnett?” You asked, tilting your head, your tongue trapped between your teeth as you decided where to cut the clip into the one before it.

“Why does Christen always get more screen time when she’s in those leggings?”

You froze, the flush moving up your cheeks all the way to your ears. You weren’t that obvious, were you? She just looked so good in those pants, you really couldn’t help yourself. It was for the fans after all…

“She doesn’t. I just pick the cool shots and stuff,” You grumbled, crossing your arms and slumping in your seat.

Lindsey’s eyes softened. “If you ever wanna talk about it, you know where to find us,”.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s my best friend and probably dating someone else anyway. I don’t stand a chance,” You mumbled, staring adamantly down at your twiddling fingers in your lap.

You had known Christen since college, and you had had a crush on her for almost as long. Years ago you had been poised to make your move when one Tobin Heath entered the picture. She had all but swept Christen off her feet, and you knew you didn’t have a chance with the girl. Why would she want the shy camera girl when she could have one of the best players in the league.

“Yeah, cause she totally doesn’t stare at you as much as you stare at her,” Emily snorted, patting your back.

“I don’t stare…” You grumbled, pouting.

“Whatever you say,” Lindsey cackled, a plan beginning to form.

*****

Christen was not brooding. So she happened to be sitting in a corner, sipping on her beer watching you laugh with someone near the counter across the room from under her eyelashes. But that was not glowering, or even remotely stalkerish. Okay, but who WAS that that you were talking to, and why were they making you laugh so hard you almost choked on your drink?

“Hey Chris, nice view?” Tobin said, sliding into the seat next to Christen.

“Peachy,” Christen said sarcastically, not looking away from where you were standing. Apparently, that girl you were talking to was interested in cameras, as you were currently showing her yours. Bitch.

“Hm, then why are you glaring at the nice rookie who is buying Y/n drinks?”

“She’s a lightweight. If Sophia Smith buys her another one of those Long Island Iceteas then Y/n won’t be able to drive home,” Christen grumbled, sipping her beer. If Kelley could get you drunk with three margaritas, they were definitely in for it with the 3 long islands you had consumed. If only the rookie knew what a stupid move it was.

“So she’ll order an uber.” Tobin shrugged with a smirk. Christen balked at the notion. You were a handful when drunk, and she wasn’t going to leave you alone in the hands of some poor college students.

“Uber has unethical business practices.” She dismissed Tobin’s suggestion easily.

“Maybe one of the Riveters will offer to take her then. Are you really going to sit here and pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re head over heels for our favorite photographer?”

Christen rolled her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to let you get in the car with one of your fans. No matter how supportive they were.

“Maybe.” She pouted, crossing her arms.

Tobin rolled her eyes at the reaction. God the two of you moved slower than Sloths. If you kept going at this rate you would be 70 by the time you finally got together. “So are you going to sit here and pout, or are you going to go get your girl?”

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Trust me, she does,” Tobin snorted. Your crush was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, as was Christen’s on you. The team had bets about how long it would take the two of you to grow the balls to ask each other out (and who would do the asking).

Christen held Tobin’s eyes for a second. Then she set her drink down on the table and walked over to where you were standing with Smith. You turned to look at her, your eyes taking a second to refocus before you recognized her.

“PRESSIE!” You screeched, then ducked down and whispered “sorry, too loud.”

“How many of these have you had?” Christen said, casually taking the glass from your hand.

“Just two- you know that two-drink Y/n has problems with volume control!” You said, laughing at your Brooklyn 99 reference as you stole your drink back and took a big swig. “Don’t worry, I’ll switch to water next.”

“Right. So are you having fun talking to Sophie?” Christen said, not sure how to start the conversation.

“Oh, sophies nice! Like she’s so funny. She pretended to be interested in photography so I could talk about it since I didn’t know any of the television shows she was talking about. Apparently, I need to watch she-ra or something, but I just don’t have time. And I already promised to watch that thing with you. You know that period drama thing. And you’re nicer. And really pretty. And you give really good cuddles. Even if you always like the villain characters in movies best, like a weirdo.”

“Just because I said Tom Hiddleston was hot one time-”

“It’s Okay, Pressie. I acknowledge that you have a terrible taste in men, you bi disaster you, and that’s okay. I love you anyway. Boop” and with that, you tapped her on the nose.

Christen rolled her eyes, “Okay, let’s get you home before you profess the rest of your love for the team,”

“Hmm, don’t love the rest of the team. Just love you, even if you love Tobin more,” You sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder.

Christen tensed. “What?” She asked. Her and Tobin were strictly friends, and anyone with eyes knew she was hung up on you.

“I wanna date you, but you’re dating tobito. That makes me sad. She scooped you up before i could profess my undying love, ” You pouted, scrunching your eyebrows together. You meant to tell her after Standford beat North Carolina so many years ago, but they had lost and she had gone to congratulate Tobin.

Christen shook her head. “I’m in love with you dumbass, not Tobin,”

You sat up and blinked owlishly at her, suddenly more sober than you had been 20 seconds ago. “You are?”

She rolled her eyes at you, kissing your nose lightly. She wasn’t about to argue with you about who she was in love with while you were drunk off your ass. She would investigate more later, profess her love when you were both sober, and make up for all your lost time “Alright, i think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you home hot stuff,”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog #christen press imagine #christen press x reader

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ghostlywritten · 4 years ago

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If Only I Had Stayed in The Shadows - Prologue

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,7k

Cecily Grant. At your service. Ordinary Sixth Year Gryffindor, Chaser of the Quidditch team and mediocre witch. Dreams of becoming the number one Healer anyone has ever seen (at least my parents think that's my dream) and having my first kiss before I bloody graduate. Don't I sound absolutely charming? Special? Note-worthy?

No. And apparently the rest of the school agrees since I hardly get acknowledged by anyone outside of class...or year. We're a big school, of course no one knows everyone. But at least within one year...

"OI, are you daydreaming again?" Marlene flicked my forehead. Oh well, I guess some did notice me.

"It's not called daydreaming when I'm just trying to ignore your traditional boy rant in the morning," I teased, picking the sweet back up to munch on it.

Marlene scoffed, "At least, I have boys to rant about." She flipped me off when I pressed my hand against my heart with an inaudible 'ouch', causing her to giggle.

Yeah, I shouldn't be complaining about my life. I have an established friendship group, my grades are good enough to satisfy my parents and Hogwarts was an amazing school in general. Plus, I even had a hobby. Quidditch. Hah, take that.

Nonetheless, the routine that my life had become was pretty boring, depressing even if I were to look at my boy's department. Or rather, lack of. I know I shouldn't identify myself through the boyfriends I had or had not, because I'm more than that (female empowerment, y'all!) but as a sixteen year old you are simply not able to resist the urge to want a male in your life and experience all that romantic ish. Especially when you see all your friends developing crushes. Not that I had never not developed a crush. I currently had more than one crush to be honest. But their crushes were actually two-sided and resulted in dates and relationships…well, Marlene's did at least. If Lily would only get as far as a second date until the bloke suddenly disappeared from Hogwarts (just kidding, they would just run away at first sight). Three guesses, whose fault that was.

Anyways, back to me because at least in my story I want to be the protagonist. My crushes were never reciprocated even if I thought so at the beginning (Marlene's fault mostly), so I was left as probably the only Sixth Year in Gryffindor's history to have never been in a romantic relationship. And mind you, I don't have big expectations. I can't really in my position. I'm no Lily Evans with her shiny red hair and bright, emerald green eyes and neither a Marlene McKinnon with her tanned skin, hazelnut brown hair- I'm getting off topic again, which is me.

I sighed. Not even in my thoughts I could keep the attention to myself, why would anyone else?

…

"She's not listening again," Marlene huffed, flicking my forehead.

After that inner-monologue at breakfast, I headed off to the first class this morning; History of Magic. I had a distinct feeling I would continue with that monologue in class. No wonder, I failed that class in my O.W.L's. Meh, whatever.

Since Lily and Marlene were closer friends than any of them with me, it was natural for them to sit together in every class, which caused me to slip into any free seat next to someone I usually never talk to. Joy.

To my surprise, I saw a vacant seat next to Remus Lupin, who was still standing and taking his stuff out whilst his two friends Sirius Black and James Potter took over the seats behind them. Ah, now the infamous Marauders. Minus one that is mysteriously missing right now. But nonetheless, no one would dare split the four apart, knowing they are always together and always partnering in each class-

"Hey Remus," I greeted the sandy-haired boy cheerfully, plopping on the seat next to him. I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Remus gave me a surprised smile, seemingly not minding and I was sure as hell not going to ask. At least, he wasn't a total stranger. I was proud to say that every Sixth Year knew every Sixth Year within their house at least. And since I was on the Gryffindor team, I was known to him solely because of James Potter and Sirius Black, who were both players as well, the former even having been named Captain this year.

"Hey Cecily, how you doing?" Remus asked politely, settling himself down. His skin looked paler than usual upon closer inspection and he looked positively exhausted. I took out a bar of chocolate I always kept in the pockets of my robes (for emergencies only, of course!) and offered him some. "Good, and you?" I asked as he gratefully accepted without question. He was used to me randomly offering him some. "Fine, had a bit of a restless night, but should be better tomorrow," he said quietly, which went mostly unheard when one rowdy Sirius hollered from back, "Oi, aren't you gonna offer some to us as well?"

I glanced backwards at the two notorious troublemakers. "Um, no?" Sirius pouted and any ordinary girl would start to swoon at the sight. I'm ordinary, so I did. But years of practice taught me to only do it internally. And the amount of times I caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat was enough disgust to keep myself sane whilst resting my eyes on his unnatural beauty. I ain't kidding, really. He was handsome in ways that sometimes made me question whether he was a male-Veela. Those surely existed. Perfectly groomed, thick black hair, striking grey eyes, an annoyingly perfect nose and a jaw line that could cut someone in half. I am ashamed to admit there was a time where I would have gladly let him stomp on me if that would have made him acknowledge me.

I mean, come on, who hadn't had a crush on him, male and female? I was convinced, James did and was just trying to cover it with his constant profession of love towards one Lily Evans. I shall explain in a minute but let's first get through my most important description of the next Marauder, who was unfortunately now my Captain.

Unfortunate, because he already had been a nightmare in the last two years I had been on the team, constantly taking over the leader spot from the actual Captain to order us around, demanding more laps, longer practice hours until we were all bruised and frustrated enough to attempt a mutiny even though he wasn't even on charge. Imagine, how he was going to be now with the actual permission to order us around? I still have nightmares.

Besides that, he was probably also the leader of the little Marauder gang, a dumb name for their tight-knit group of friends. I couldn't deny though I was a bit envious of their friendship and I could imagine many others were, too.

Didn't change the fact that their gang name sounded stupid. Now, why I think James Potter is secretly crushing on his best mate (like every sane person would); I could hardly take his 'undying' love for Lily seriously, mainly because he had such ridiculous ways of professing his love for her that I doubted he was serious about it…or sirius. Heh. Anyways, he would probably be more believable if he weren't always so damn public about his declarations. That was also probably the reason why Lily was able to reject him all this time and call him an arrogant toe-rag in all her hateful rants. It didn't seem like she believed him.

Otherwise it would be hard to resist him for years. I mean, he was handsome, smart if he wanted to be and a pretty good Quidditch player. The whole package, really.

Merlin, I sounded like I had a crush on him, too. BUT. To be honest, everyone would have a crush on him as well as Sirius if he wasn't so 'devoted'.

I mentally slapped myself. At this rate, I would crush on Frank Longbottom's toad. "I seriously need a boyfriend," I muttered to myself.

"Hm, what was that?" Remus asked amused, chuckling quietly. Just then did I hear the complaints of the boys behind me.

"Are we air?"

"You siriusly going to ignore your Captain? That's ten extra laps this Thursday, Grant!"

I just remembered why I could keep my crushes under control. At least when it came to these two.

"Nothing," I muttered to Remus before turning over, raising an eyebrow at them, "What do you want?"

"Respect."

"Chocolate."

"Sorry, I have neither for you two," I said with a shrug, turning back over whilst they spluttered. It was easy handling them after years of practice together. Besides these interactions at class and on the Quidditch field, we had no other kind of connection, which was good for my heart.

But well, that would change quickly.

"Why is Remus always getting chocolate and we don't?" Sirius complained after class as I packed up the rest of the bar along with other stuff (such as the piece of parchment and quill I didn't use at all for this lesson). Rolling my eyes, I offered him some. "No, I don't want it anymore."

"Jeez, like a kid," I said loudly, "And for the record, I do it because Remus gives me his notes. Doesn't he?" I directed the question towards my seat partner with the most innocent smile. Remus Lupin with the gentle chuckle. He would probably be a heartthrob as well if it weren't for his quiet and introverted nature. In fact, all of the Marauders could be heartthrobs. Except Peter Pettigrew. Who was part of the gang for some reason. 'But even he is in a relationship right now,' I thought miserably, 'Probably off snogging his girlfriend and skipping class..'

"Of course I do," Remus answered, charming his notes to double and handing me the copy.

"Thanks, Remus!" I said cheerily, stuffing the notes into my bag before swinging it over and trudging past the protesting boys, "Hey, why don't we ever get your notes?!"

I ran to catch up with Marlene and Lily, who were already on their way to Herbology. "Hey girls, wait up!" They startled into a stop, "Oh, right. Sorry Cecily, we should have waited for you," Lily said sweetly and I grimaced. I was probably the Peter Pettigrew in our little friendship group.

Not that I could blame them. Lily and Marlene were both popular, extraordinary beauties and smart on top. I was the boring, ordinary looking and mediocre Peter that had nothing special to her name.

But that would change.

The days passed in a blur of classes, gossip and studying. The usual boring tirade, really. The only thing I looked forward to was food. And Quidditch.

So, imagine my elation when Thursday came up…and the sour mood I got in when James actually demanded those extra ten laps, apparently being good at holding a grudge. "Keep it up, Chaser No. 2!"

"Honestly, Potter," I huffed, coming to a stand in front of him, the only one still on the ground besides him as everyone was already up on their brooms.

"It's Captain, Chaser No. 2."

"Seriously? Chaser No. 2?"

"Well, there are three Chasers. I have to tell them apart."

"You have to tell them apart?" I snorted, "Potter, you know every player's name, family background, favourite team and player."

"True, and the Montrose Magpies still suck."

"They don't!"

"They do!"

"Still better than the Chudley Cannons!"

"Take that back!"

"Nope."

"Ten more laps."

I snorted again, mounting my broom. "As if."

"Grant, you get back down here this instant!"

"Who the hell is Grant? I'm Chaser No. 2," I yelled back, causing Sirius to bark a laugh as he heard. We started simulating a game with Team A against Team B for a while before mixing the players together. I rolled my eyes as Archie Stan knocked his shoulder against mine more roughly than necessary in an attempt to loosen my grip on the Quaffle. I wasn't born yesterday though, my grip tighter on the ball than a package of almond biscuits.

"Good, Chaser No. 2!" James shouted as I threw the Quaffle through the loop, whooping exaggerately, "Wooo -oof!" I clutched my broomstick to regain my balance as Stan knocked against me from behind this time, the air leaving my lungs for a second at the unexpected hit. "Watch it, Sideline-Chaser No. 3!"

"Not cool, bro!" Sirius and Frank booed, causing the Seventh Year boy to roll his eyes.

"Alright, everyone. Good game today," James called out, wrapping up the practice. We all cheered in relief, flying towards the ground to stretch and loosen up. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it!" Our captain stated cheekily, grinning broadly now that he left the Captain mode behind. The others grumbled under their breaths as we all made our way to the locker rooms. I rubbed my sore shoulder, the rough handling having left a bit of a mark. "You alright there, Grant?" James asked as I passed him by.

"Yeah, just sore."

"Stan is an idiot," James commented, looking after the boy in question, "He is still bitter about how you took over his spot on the A team."

"His fault that he sucks," I muttered, causing the messy-haired boy to chuckle. "He doesn't suck. You are just better than him."

"Wow, can't believe I'm hearing a compliment from the Captain that only knows how to motivate us with insults."

He winked, catching me off guard, "Don't get used to it." I stared for a second at his smirk, wondering how he could pull that off without seeming arrogant like Sirius. Maybe it had to do with his unruly hair that gave him somewhat of a boyish, innocent look or maybe the warmth in his almond eyes that would turn into pure amber if the sun hit him in the face…

'I'm thinking way too much about this,' I thought, shaking myself out of it with a mental slap.

"Evans!" he suddenly called out, causing me to flinch in surprise. His entire expression brightened tenfold as he spotted the red-head over my shoulder. I turned to see her trudging over along with Marlene and Alice Prewett, who was probably the sole reason why they were here in the first place as she always wanted to cheer for her boyfriend. "Glad to see you are here to support the Gryffindor team! Or did you just come to watch me in my natural element?"

"Neither, Potter. Quidditch is useless," Lily commented harshly, and I winced slightly at the sharp tone she had solely reserved for him, watching how James' ego deflated along with his puffed-out chest.

"Touché," he chuckled, almost choking on the word and I could practically see his inner battle between agreeing with the love of his life and defending his love for the game.

"Excuse me, Quidditch isn't useless!" I protested indignantly. Lily just rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she walked past us with the other girls, who simply gave me small smiles in passing. I huffed. I really needed friends that supported this game.

"One day…," James sighed blissfully, staring after them, "One day she will admit her love for me and we will be together forever."

I shifted slightly, "Yeaaahhhh."

He frowned, straightening up to his full height, "You don't think so?"

Lie. Lie. Say everything else but what you really think, "I think you are in love with Sirius and trying to cover it up."

I TOLD YOU TO-

"W-what?" James spluttered and I snapped my head over my shoulder, "Yep, I'm coming!" I called back to the owl that flew past us in that moment, swiftly turning to walk away, "Bye Potter!"

"Wait, hold up!" the dark-haired boy caught me by the hood of my uniform, successfully pulling me back and I grimaced, "What the bloody hell do you mean I'm in love with Padfoot?!"

"Who isn't?" the boy in question asked, coming up towards after the quickest shower ever. I facepalmed in embarrassment as he walked over, ruffling his still wet hair.

"I'm certainly not!" James exclaimed, shaking me slightly with his grip on my hood, "She thinks so!"

"Oh?" Sirius raised an eyebrow at me, smirking in amusement, "I thought you were talking about her being in love with me."

"You know you gonna catch a cold if you walk around with your hair wet in this weather," I pointed out, trying to change the subject. Not that I was actually in love with him but since I had a tiny crush and I was really bad at lying, I would probably blurt something out that would make them think I was.

"Don't change the subject. Why the hell do you think I'm in love with Padfoot?"

"Well, for one. You have a pet name for him," I pointed out.

"For Moony and Wormtail, too! And they call him that, too!"

"Maybe it's a group thing then," I said dismissively, trying to find a way out and finally hit the showers, crawl into my bed and die. The longest conversation with the two heartthrobs yet and it had to be about my thoughts on their relationships.

"It's not!" Both James and Sirius denied.

"Two negatives make one positive," I said with a grin.

"Well, I wouldn't hold it against any of the blokes if they were in love with me," Sirius stated, flipping his hair and placing a hand on James' shoulder, "You can tell me, I won't judge."

James shrugged him off, "Of course, I don't! I never did, I don't now and I'm never going to!" Then he paused, "You don't think anyone else thinks that?"

Sirius shrugged and shook his head simultaneously, "Why would they?"

"Yeah, why would they?" I agreed hastily, side-stepping discreetly in hopes of- "YOU think so? You tell me!" James demanded, blocking my way.

I sighed, "I was just kidding."

"You were not."

I frowned, "How do you know?"

James pinched his nose. "You don't think Evans thinks I'm in love with Padfoot, do you?"

Shrugging, I leaned against my broomstick with a sigh, realising that this would take longer than I would like to, "How would I know?"

"Because you are friends?"

"Yeah, but I don't always listen when they talk about boy stuff." Mainly because I didn't always want to feel the green eyed monster crawling up whenever they talked about their dates or relationships or even drama. I wish I had some drama to talk about.

"And why do you think I do?" James pressed.

I blinked. "Do what?"

"Love Padfoot!" James said loudly in exasperation, causing heads to turn as the other players slowly got out of the locker room, freshened up.

"Is that your way of matchmaking, James?" Frank called out teasingly, "Shouting at the victim to love your best mate?"

"Oi, what do you mean 'victim'?" Sirius shouted back as the others laughed around us. I went beet red.

"This conversation is over, Potter," I decided, side-stepping him swiftly to walk towards the locker rooms. The girls looked at me questioningly, but I just shook my head as I walked into the warm room, James hot on my heels.

"I'm serious, Grant. Why do you think I'm in love with Padfoot and not Evans? Does she think that? Is she doubting my love for her?" he fired one question after another as he followed me.

"Well, maybe," I replied to his last question as I placed broomstick against the wall next to the girls' changing rooms door, stopping with a hand on the handle, "I mean, it would explain why she hasn't agreed to go out with you after your countless times of asking her."

"How is asking someone out causing someone to doubt their love for them?" James asked incredulously as he proceeded to try and follow me inside the room.

"Off limits, Potter!" I said sternly with half a foot inside the room as he stood right in front of me.

"Captain here, Grant!" James retaliated, pushing me inside before half-closing the door to give me some privacy. I sighed, figuring that would be all I would get as I opened my locker. "Now, answer the question!"

"Well, maybe it's just the way you are handling your 'love' for her," I mused as I changed, knowing he wouldn't stop pestering me unless I satisfied his curiousity.

"What do you mean?"

"You are being overbearing about it. Obnoxious," I explained, grinning at his childish scoff, "I mean, I would have believed you at some point after all these years, but your affections seem kind of…superficial, given the fact that you never tried to actually get to know her."

"…How do you know all that? Did she tell you that?"

I blushed. "Y-yeah, probably." I was glad he couldn't see my red face from lying. It was still better than telling him that I was mindlessly obsessing over my friend's relationships and boy dramas since I had none myself. Sighing, I stuffed my Quidditch robes into my sack before throwing it over my shoulder and heading towards the door.

Unsurprisingly, James stood there still, an unusual thoughtful expression on his face. "So, you think I should get to know her more?"

"I think you should leave her alone."

"What? I can't-"

"I mean, everything you try at this point will be fruitless because Lily won't believe you like she hasn't all the years before," I explained patiently, "It would be smarter to just lean back and be civil for a while, give her space to breathe instead of giving her yet another reason to complain how much of an arrogant toe-rag you are."

James went quiet for a second and I wondered if I had imagined the slight flicker of hurt in his eyes at my words. "She really said that?" he asked softly and I mentally berated myself for throwing that in his face thoughtlessly.

"Maybe not with those words…," I tried to deny but he saw right through it, sighing heavily as he ran a hand through his air.

"…Be civil, eh?"

I nodded whilst simultaneously wondering how I had suddenly become a relationship counsellor for my Quidditch Captain. "Be civil."

Little did I know how this little conversation got the ball rolling towards the most unexpected direction.

Chapter One

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine

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shinidamachu · 4 years ago

Note

What are some of your favorite InuYasha fanfiction stories? 😙

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE VERY FIRST PERSON TO ASK ME THIS QUESTION! PLEASE, CLICK ON THE FOLLOWING LINKS TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE:

Light Me a Lantern by @inuyashasforest: a lot of feelings for this one. It was the first Inukag multichapter fanfic I have ever read and boy am I glad I did. It’s a must read. I don’t know how Hanyo no Yashahime will fall into the Inuyasha universe, but if it turns out to be garbage, I’m more than happy to accept Light Me a Lantern as canon instead. Send tweet.

Little by Little by @little-known-artist: cutest post-canon fanfic in all land! It will make you smile. It will make you laugh. It will make you a little horny. That being said, it will also make you cry, but trust me: you’re gonna be grateful for it.

You Rescued Me by @keichanz: this fic it’s a party and I’m the piñata, there’s no other way to put it. Heather is a storytelling master, like... she could post her grocery shopping list and I’d be reading the hell out of it!

The Captain and the Hanyo by @goshinote: I love the whole premise of this fic and how much effort Jane puts in every detail. It’s like I’m living in it and I wish I was. It’s the story I’m currently reading and it’s so, so sweet and exciting!

Cruel Summer by @akitokihojo: you know shit is about to go down when Angie drops a Taylor Swift song titled fic. Now that Folklore is out I’m honestly scared for my life.

Pennies and Dimes by @witchygirl99: SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part one)

Delicate by @akitokihojo: SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part two)

A Night to Remember by @angelhartsblog: I want you to close your eyes. Now I want you to think about the perfect Inukag first time. Open your eyes. Did you think about A Night To Remember? No? That’s because you haven’t read it yet, pal. What are you waiting for?

The Gorgon and the Dog Demon by @cstormsinukagblog: I’m in too deep HELP!

Mating Fever by @clearwillow: let’s face it, this one is a classic already! The concept of this story was executed so well. Nothing was held back. You can tell Carra had as much fun writing it as we had reading it.

Pretending To Pretend by splendentgoddess: IF BOTH THE LAST HARD COPY OF THIS FIC AND MY COUSIN WERE ON FIRE... I’d still save my cousin but only because I reread Pretending to Pretend so many times I could probably write it down again myself, word for word. Also, my mom would never let me hear the end of it. But, like... it’s still a close one.

Bakin’ Cakes/Patty-Cake by @artistefish: if I had two lives to give to Bloodhound and Kitten then two lives I’d give them.

Risks by @stoatsandweasels: THE CHARACTERIZATION, THE DIALOGUES, THE SMUT... Definition of *chef’s kiss*. The stars really aligned for this one, let me tell ya. Good. Fucking. Food.

Cam You See Me? by @keichanz: Smut Queen at her best. LONG LIVE!

Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves by @starlingchildgazingatthestars: I feel like this fic should be written on a very big, very old, hard covered book. And someone should read it to me every night before I go to sleep. Every new chapter deepens the plot and the character so much. I’m hooked.

Belief/Resist by @dangerouspompadour: my first thought on it was “man, I wish I could leave a thousand kudos” because it’s one of my favorite tropes ever and the story was told with such delicacy and honesty. Nailed their personalities to their cores.

Freak Attraction/Freak Attraction: Seven-Man Circus by @artistefish: this fic is the epitome of galaxy brain. How do someone eve come up with something so incredible? The world building is so fucking good, are you kidding me?

Oblivion by @meggz0rz: this one needs no comments... But I’m gonna comment anyway: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spetacular, never-the-same, totally unique.

Beautiful Stranger by splendentgoddess: WHAT A RIDE, MY FRIENDS! BUCKLE THE FUCK UP!

Missing by @ajoy3fanfics: it’s called ‘missing’ because after you finish the whole thing you just miss it so fucking much! I remember how obsessed with it I became, refreshing the page for updates. I was a woman possessed. I spent about 80% of my time talking about this fic, and the other 20% of the time, I was praying for someone else to bring it up so I could talk about it more.

The Delinquent Boyfriend by @artistefish: book one of Inukag Holy Bible.

Out Of The Woods by @dyaz-stories: okay so there are only two chapters so far but the plot it’s captivating as hell! And the writing it’s flawless. If you haven’t read it yet, please do and tell Dya I sent you and I miss her ass.

Guardian by @ruddcatha: my nerdy ass feels seen and represented.

Knit and Lace by @doginabirdcage: if you’re part of the Inukag fandom you’re legally obligated to read this fanfic. This is not even a joke. Do you know someone who hasn’t read it? No! And you shouldn’t because it’s fucking awesome.

Call You Mine by @lavendertwilight89: every word on this is a drop of dopamine I swear.

Enchanted by @akitokihojo: I was in the middle of studying for one of the most important tests of my life when Enchanted came around. Was it insane of me to drop everything to read it? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes.

The Half Breed’s Wife by @gypsin: I’m gonna be honest here, this better update before I die otherwise I’m simply not going. RIP to everyone who will pass away without knowing how The Half Breed’s Wife ends but I’m different.

The It Couple by @meggz0rz: OH, YEAH,THE COOL KID OF FANFICS! *Vogue by Madonna starts playing*

It's About Time by @akitokihojo: first fic by Angie I have ever read! Flashback to two-years-ago me picking her chin off the floor. I still can believe I could read this for free? It feels wrong that I could, but also, like: thank God!

The Maid and the Bodyguard by @dyaz-stories: this is the fic you want to take home to your mama. You’d get on one knee for this fic. You’d buy it a diamond ring. You’d profess my undying love for it and you’d spend the rest of your life trying to prove to this fic I’m worthy of it.

Something Real by Angelica Pierce: so this is one of the best oneshots I have ever read in my entire life. It is also the one and only work signed by this author known to mankind. Which I take as a personal offense. To me. Personally.

Mars and Venus by @doginabirdcage: have you ever read something so clever you’re mad about it? Like HOW DARE YOU BE SO SMART? Genius, really. I read it so long ago and it blows me away to this day.

I Knew You Before I Met You by @keichanz: book two of Inukag Holy Bible.

House Mates by honeybee31: “and they were roommates.” “OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES!” Domestic Inukag? In my fic rec? It’s more likely than you think.

The Language He Speaks by @akitokihojo: if I was half as beautiful as this fic... I’d be kissing so many mouths... The possibilities...

Fingertips by @shinjiteflorana: this is the level of writing I aspire to achieve someday.

PS: I could never, in a billion years, rank these fanfiction, so please keep in mind they are in no way ordered by personal preference. I just love them all. Also, I’m messy.

PS²: believe it or not, I really tried to narrow this down. If I were to tag every Inuyasha fanfiction I love ever, it would get insane huge. This is a not exhaustive, very humble list of my favorites as requested above and I had to draw the line somewhere, otherwise I’d just keep going forever.

PS³: I’ll never get tired of saying that this fandom is crazy talented! Making this fic rec was so hard because there are so many awesome creators out there putting out new content for us every single day. I would like you to know that, even if I had to leave some works out, I appreciate and support each one of them. Thank you so much for keeping the Inuyasha fandom alive!

PS⁴: if you’re reading this, feel free to recommend or tag me in Inuyasha fanfics. Add some of your favorites to this post. Give the authors some love!

#There are SO MANY fanfics I want to start reading but didn’t have the time yet #That’s a topic for another ask tho so if any of you are interested in finding out which ones I have on my to-read list come to my inbox #I’ll be happy to tell you #Anyway I hope I have satisfied your curiosity anon #Thank you for asking now come fangirl about these absolute jams with me #Gosh this took a while #Fic rec

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natbucks3000 · 3 years ago

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Prank Wars

pairing: loki x fem!reader

summary: after years of endless pranks, one prank by the one and only God of Mischief crosses the line.

a/u: hey guys!! this is my first attempt at writing so i’m just going to leave this here and hope for the best. enjoy!! <3

Loki…

God of Mischief and self-proclaimed future King of Asgard, but you know him as your closest and dearest friend since he first came to the wondrous land.

What started out as a small feud to see who’s the better fighter, grew into an even stronger friendship.

The two of you were known for surprising each other with innocent pranks. From cutting chunks of hair; to pretending one is invisible for a whole week, you and Loki did it all and today was no exception.

However, after years and years of jokes, you have had enough.

The scheming man thought it was a brilliant idea to send you a letter, but not just any letter. A letter that professes his undying love for you.

You couldn’t help but feel elated when reading it. After all these years, you weren’t sure if the ever so charming Loki could see you as not just a companion, but as a woman, and this letter proves to you that he and you are on the same page.

Or so you thought.

Before you could save the letter, green flames began to ignite at the edges of the paper and in an instant, the beautifully written letter was gone. You collapse down on your knees in amazement.

Loki loves you.

Suddenly, Loki jumps out and startles you. “As what people in Midgard would say, Gotcha!”

You grew confused, “What?”

Loki flashes a beaming smile. Obviously, showing how proud he is of himself. “That silly, little false love letter was yet another one of my tricks. The look on your face is so humorous. Y/n: 112. Loki: 113. I’m in the lead again.” Your cheeks turn red hot.

How could you be such a fool?

Your liquid filled eyes look up at him with rage. The only thing you can think of is hurting the bastard.

Loki knew that look very well. It was one he fears the most. He gulped and instantly ran off. You immediately run right after him.

“Loki of Asgard! I officially despise you and your tricks!” You declared at the top of your lungs as you ran up a hill to get him.

Loki chuckles at your face. All while running away from you, he scoffs “Oh please, you love my tricks!”

“Not this one, Loki!” Before you can make it to the top of the hill where Loki stands, you stopped in your tracks, catching your breath.

You hate to admit how much he’s hurt you. It was as though he pierced his favorite dagger right through your heart. “You’ve toyed with my emotions for the last time! We’re not children anymore! I’ve grown tired of these antics!”

Loki notices how you’ve stopped chasing after him. He turns to see your face. It’s glistening from the dying sunlight hitting your shedded tears.

His notable smile disappeared. You look down to avoid eye contact.

You were embarrassed. Embarrassed not just because you were here, crying in front of a God that laughs at such foolishness, but because this prank shows that he is fully aware of your feelings, and yet he finds amusement in using it as ammunition for your little prank war.

Loki walks towards you and cups your face, “What is wrong, y/n? This was nothing but a harmless prank.”

Still looking down on the floor, you try your best to hold your composure, but ultimately failing. “A harmless prank to you, but it was nothing but painful for me. If this is truly a war of pranks, I have surrendered to you and you are now victorious. I give you my congrats.”

He should be happy, but the look on your face causes him despair.

The truth is, he loves you more than anything. These pranks were his way of showing you his love.

It’s the only thing he knows best.

He never understood the context of love, however, whenever you would crinkle your nose when furious at him or the way you laugh at his jokes, his heart begins to grow a little bit bigger and it reminds him that he isn’t the monster most people paint him.

You were never afraid of him and would always put him in his place, and those traits were only a fraction of the reasons why he is completely and utterly in love with you.

He gently moves your head up to where your eyes can meet his icy blues. He says quietly, “I apologize…I never intended for this outcome…To be completely truthful, my heart has yearned for you for as long as I can remember. And I’m not good at this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be good at this, but what I do know is…you are the best thing that has ever occurred in my mundane life. And I wish nothing more for you to be by my side always.”

You couldn’t help but cry at his words. You place your hand on his on top of your cheek. “Loki Laufeyson, you have no idea how happy this makes me feel, but if what you’re saying is untrue, I don’t know if my heart can take it-“

He softly presses his lips against yours. The wings of butterflies flutter faster in your stomach, feeling absolute bliss.

He pulls away. “My words are nothing but true…”

You both share a smile, along with another kiss before the Asgardian sun hides into the night and the bright lights of the city ignites.

#loki tv #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki (marvel)#loki odinson #thor of asgard #king of asgard #prince of asgard #asgardian #tales of asgard #midgard #marvel #thor #fanfic #natbucks3000

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 4 years ago

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Confessions Spock x Reader

Prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers blog.

Person A: “I have something to tell you.”

Person B: “Oooh~ Are you about to profess your undying love for me?”

Person A: “Yes, I am.”

Person B: “…..What?”

Look, I read this prompt and my brain said SPOCK. So here we are.

Summary: You are a geophysicist onboard the Enterprise. You and Spock develop a friendship that turns into something more, but Vulcans are bad at expressing emotions. And let’s be honest, humans are worse.

Warnings: None, I don’t think, if I should have one for this please let me know!

Implied Jim/Leonard.

Word Count: 2,831 (Sorry, not sorry)

You had been spending extra time in the labs, trying to get all of the data from the previous away mission cataloged. You rolled your shoulders as you finished your final entry for the night. You signed the bottom of the report and turned off your PADD. You had not left your post, staying through both shifts. You knew that would bite you tomorrow when you woke for Alpha. But you wanted this done, so you could take a moment to breathe. At least until the next away mission and you would restart the data cataloging again.

Your focus of study had been geophysics, the geology of other planets had fascinated you. But aboard the Enterprise you found yourself working in multiple disciplines at the same time. You would never complain, it gave you the chance to explore the other disciplines. You had always loved science, and journeying into space was everything you had dreamt of. Being assigned to the Enterprise had been a shock. You had not expected to ever be on a ship of such importance, but here you were.

You rubbed your eyes as you stood up, you definitely were going to regret this in the morning. You wearily made your way to the exit, running face first into a blue clad chest.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N?” A voice questioned, you turned your head upward, meeting eyes with Commander Spock.

“Commander.” You said, taking a step back.

His eyes scaled your figure, no doubt taking in your disgruntled appearance. “What are you doing here, you are not scheduled during this time.”

“I was finishing up the cataloging of the….” You started, interrupted by a yawn.

He tapped on his PADD. “You have tomorrow off. Catch up your rest. I do not want to see you anywhere near this lab for a full day. Am I understood?”

Your eyes grew wide, but you knew better than picking a fight with Commander Spock, especially when exhausted. “Yes, sir.”

“I will accompany you to your quarters, you are in no state to go on your own.” He said, turning on his heel and leading you out of the lab. Again, you resisted the urge to fight him, and followed him wordlessly.

As you made your way down the hall you felt eyes on you, passing crew members glanced in your direction as you made your way to your quarters. You shifted uncomfortably as you felt the eyes boring into your shoulders. You glanced at Spock, he seemed oblivious to the attention. Maybe you looked rougher than you thought. You stopped in front of your quarters.

“This is me.” You said, Spock stopping beside the door.

He nodded. “Remember. Get your rest, no lab work tomorrow.”

You sighed as an answer, typing into the pad on your door. Nodding at Spock.

“And….” He hesitated. You looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Sweet dreams.” He said brusquely, turning quickly on his heel back in the direction of the lab. You fell into your bed, thinking perhaps it was odd that your Commanding Officer had walked you to your quarters, but who cared, you just wanted to sleep.

You woke up the next morning and glanced at your clock, you shot up. You were late, too late, glancing down at your still uniformed body you guessed that it would have to do. Several reprimands flew through your brain, your near perfect report was going to be butchered today. You rushed to your door before the computer started speaking.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N, Commander Spock would like you to be reminded that you are not to come to the lab today.”

“Thank you, Computer.” You mumbled, rubbing the remaining sleep from your eyes. In all honesty you thought that exchange between you and the Commander had been a dream. You wandered over to your replicator and plugged in the sequence for your favorite morning drink once your mug was full you wandered to the couch and grabbed your personal PADD flipping through articles and news from the universe. You continued reading, your drink grew cold as you found yourself caught up in your reading. A knock sounded at your door.

“Commander Spock, Lieutenant Y/L/N.” The computer stated.

You jumped up from your couch and rushed to the door. You pushed it open, narrowly missing the Commander. “Commander.” You greeted.

“Lieutenant.” He said stiffly.

“What brings you here?” You asked cheerily.

“I wanted to see how you were after a night of recovering.” He stated, taking a breath. “I also noticed you had not left your room and wanted to see if you would accompany me to the mess for dinner?”

You could swear that the Vulcan’s skin deepened at his cheeks. You glanced at the clock, realizing you had been reading for hours, without eating. “I would love to.” You answered, remembering that you had not brushed your hair or changed uniforms. “Give me a moment?” You asked, he nodded, you stepped aside to let him into your quarters, missing the curious eyes staring at your door. He sat on your couch as you raced into your room to make yourself mildly presentable. You changed into a more casual version of your science blues and ran a quick brush through your hair. That’ll have to do. You thought to yourself.

You exited your room to see Spock still seated at your couch, looking at the photos you had on your side table. “You and your family appear quite close.” He stated.

“Yeah, they were excited to see me join Starfleet, but I still miss them.” You said wistfully, “Are you ready?” You asked.

He nodded and stood up from your couch. You glanced at him, realizing how tall he was compared to your height, noticing his shoulders and shape, you shook your head slightly. Not your Commanding Officer. You chided yourself. You lead him out of your room and toward the mess hall.

You both walked in comfortable silence to the mess hall. You started noticing people pointing in your direction in the halls. You glanced at Spock, seemingly unaware of the attention you were drawing. You decided to take his approach and kept your eyes forward. Once you reached the mess hall you noticed it was filled with crew members.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be joining Doctor McCoy and the Captain.” Commander Spock stated as you both joined the serving lines.

“I don’t mind.” You stuttered out, not only were you eating with your Commanding Officer, but also the head of medical and the Captain. This is fine.

Your trays were filled and Spock turned toward a table with the aforementioned duo. The Captain turned your way and waved you both over, with a huge smile on his face. “Spock, Lieutenant.” He greeted.

“Captain, Doctor.” You said stopping before taking a seat. Commander Spock took the seat next to the Captain, leaving the seat between himself and the doctor open for you. He pointedly looked at the seat and yourself, and you sat. The table remained silent for a moment.

“Spock tells me you are quite the dedicated researcher.” The Captain said, breaking the silence.

“It’s nothing, Captain.” You said, blushing. Bringing your eyes up to Commander Spock’s, a hint of something flashing in his eyes.

“Jim, Y/N, just call me Jim.” The Captain said, his blue eyes shimmering with mischief.

“Jesus.” The doctor muttered under his breath.

“And him you can call Bones.” The Captain, Jim, said gesturing to the doctor with his thumb.

The doctor rolled his eyes and extended a hand to you, “Leonard.” He said as you shook his hand.

“So, what’s new in the lab?” Jim asked, Spock.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N has been cataloguing the data from the last away mission. They have been working on a cross disciplinary research of the planets we have visited to create a more in-depth database for our findings.” Spock said, nodding to you.

“That’s impressive.” Jim said, Leonard giving a non-committal grunt over his dinner.

“It is.” Commander Spock stated firmly. The two other men glanced at each other, smirks on their faces.

You continued in the conversation, the three men telling stories. Well, Leonard and Jim spinning tales and Commander Spock integrating the reality and truth to their stories. You found yourself laughing at their antics and feeling comfortable being a part of their dynamic. The night wore on and Leonard and Jim left, leaving you and Commander Spock alone at the table, discussing your research and recent studies released on planets and space travel.

A yawn took over your conversation and Commander Spock rose from the table. “I think it’s time to retire, Lieutenant.” You nodded joining him on the walk back to your quarters.

You stopped outside your door, “Thank you, Commander.” You stated.

“Spock,” He murmured. “You can call me Spock. And you are welcome.”

“Thank you, Spock.” You restated.

“I will see you in the morning.” He said, nodding to you and turning away. You watched his back for a moment before entering your quarters.

You took a quick shower and settled into your bed, wondering how all of that had just happened.

The next morning you woke for Alpha shift and went to the labs to continue your cataloging. Spock was there, working in a separate part of the lab. He glanced up and gave a small wave before turning back to his work. You smiled to yourself and set to work.

The next few weeks you fell into a pattern. Work, then lunch with Spock, occasionally Jim or Leonard would join. Back to work, dinner with Spock, then he would walk you to your quarters. You found yourself enjoying the company of the Vulcan. It was refreshing to have someone to talk to who did not grow tired of your constant speaking of new findings and research.

The weeks grew into months and the ship had come to terms with the fact that if they saw Spock, there was a ninety percent chance you would be with him and vice versa. It would have been a blatant lie if you stated that you had one friendly feelings for Spock. Which shocked most of your friends, who you had been neglecting in favor of him. They were curious, and defensive of you. More often than not you found yourself defending Spock. Regardless of your feelings, they found it difficult to believe the Vulcan had a caring nature. They were used to seeing his logical and cool demeanor. As their criticisms continued you found yourself distancing from them and keeping even more company with Spock than you had previously.

The two of you fell into a comfortable friendship. You are shocked to find the Vulcan was adept at teasing. Which spurred you both often into a battle of wits, his approach more logical and calculated, yours completely on the fly. Often at dinners with Leonard and Jim you both would wage war upon the other unsuspecting men. Leonard would roll his eyes when you would start to tease, and Jim would eagerly join in. Jim’s direct target would always be Spock, causing you to counter his teasing by going after him. Spock occasionally joining in to back you up. Vulcan humor may have been drier than human humor, but you never failed to laugh.

A full year passed and you and Spock had continued to be friends and continue your daily meals together. Your feelings toward him had grown, but you never found it in yourself to tell him. In a way you felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness towards you, and the fear of losing his friendship was too great to ignore.

You found yourself lost in thought at dinner and were drawn out of your haze by Spock’s voice.

“Y/N?” Your eyes shot to his, seeing the concern in them.

“Spock? Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked.

“I was asking if you would like to come to my quarters for a game of chess?” He asked, a wary look still in his eyes.

“Sure, I’d love that.” You said, nodding. You had never been invited to his quarter before, you had played many a game of chess, but that was always in common areas.

He nodded and began gathering your trays and glasses to take to the wash area. You tried to take them from him but he stopped you, “I have it.”

You had grown used to Spock being attentive to your needs, but you felt guilty each time he did something for you. Especially when you felt your heart race at his general existence. Your cheeks grew warm as you stood up to follow him out of the mess. He lead the way to his quarters and opened the door, gesturing you inside.

You glanced around the quarters, it was homier than you had expected. A warmth radiated from being in his quarters that made your heart flutter. A game of chess was set up in the middle of the living area.

Spock lead you over to it and sat across from you. You sat and began the game. You had never won a game against Spock, you always gave him a fight, but ultimately he always won. Today, something was off though. His counterattacks were not as well thought out as they usually were, actually his whole strategy was not as well thought out as usual. You found yourself winning and looked at Spock shocked.

A tiny smile was on the Vulcan’s face, “Nice work.”

“I don’t think that was a fair battle. You seem distracted.” You said, moving so you were next to him.

“I have something to tell you.” He said, looking into your eyes, folding his hands into his lap.

You felt worry grow in the pit of your stomach, heavy moments weren’t your forte, so you responded in probably the worst way you could think of. Letting a devious grin split your face you said, “Oooh…Are you about to profess your undying love for me?”

Spock’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Yes, I am.”

You felt the grin fall from your face and your eyes grow wide. This could not be happening, no way. “…..What?”

“I love you, Y/N.” He stated, “I understand if you do not feel the same way. Perhaps I misread your signals. I apologize if that is the case.” He continued to speak and you broke through his monologue.

“Spock, I love you too.” This caused the Vulcan to freeze in his rambling and he looked into your eyes. “I have for a while now.”

A small smile came across his lips. He reached out and placed his hand on your cheek. “May I kiss you?” He asked tentatively.

You smiled at him and nodded, he leaned forward pressing his lips lightly to yours. He pulled away, too soon for your liking, and stared into your eyes. “I love you.” He restated.

You smiled, “I got that part.” You leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and lasting a bit longer than the last.

The next day you met for lunch, Jim and Leonard sat at a table with two empty chairs. You and Spock joined their table. You sat across from Spock, flanked by Jim and Leonard. You could sense mischief in the air, but chose to ignore it. You all comfortably made small talk through lunch, that is until Jim wrapped an arm around the back of your chair.

“So, Y/N,” He said, you could see Leonard roll his eyes and start muttering to an Earth deity. “What do you say, we grab a drink next shore leave?”

You looked up at Spock, one of his eyebrows raised, wondering how you were going to handle this. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that.” You answered.

A smile split Jim’s face and he removed his arm from your chair and smacked Spock on the shoulder. “You finally did it!” Green tinted your significant other’s ears.

Spock made eye contact with you as Jim started to talk his ear off about relationships and love. You giggled as his expression grew more and more pained. You knew you could save him from Jim, but as much as you loved him, you also loved seeing him flustered at Jim’s antics. Jim started going on about wedding colors and you thought Spock was going to combust on the spot.

“Idiot.” Leonard grumbled.

“Yeah, but he’s your idiot.” You answered.

A slight flush grew across Leonard’s face. “And that one’s yours.” He retorted, stuffing his face with the sandwich in front of him.

You smiled at Spock as he continued to listen to Jim’s ramblings. He smiled back and you could feel a warmth surround you. Regardless of the ever-changing nature of the universe around you, you knew one thing for certain. You loved Spock, and he loved you.

#spock x reader #spock imagine #star trek #star trek imagine #jim kirk #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #james t kirk #spock/reader #reader insert #write-it-motherfuckers

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Lacuna - Epilogue (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 2.5k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You take a deep breath, readjusting in the heels. Lately, you’ve been wearing them a lot again. They’ve begun to make your feet sore and leave blisters on the back of your heels. If you’re lucky, you won’t start bleeding. No matter the medicine that Elysia provides, they always seem to bleed or form again.

Lucky for you, it’s nearing the end of the tour. This district, and then twelve, and then you’re back home to enjoy your house. They’ll still come around to pester you about how you’re doing. But that will be fine, you’ll answer the questions like you have before. They’ll be bored of you by next year.

There’s no reason for them to ask Finnick questions. He’s with Caesar almost every single night, on his talk show. Then there’s the little news anchors, and all the other tv shows where he has an opportunity to show up. You don’t know if it’s an act anymore, or if it’s who he really is.

He’s all he ever was during the interviews, the mask seems to have stuck. He’s charming, and confident, and so goddamn cocky. He’s got all the girls in your district swooning over him, even if they can’t watch his shows, the news, or Caesar’s fucking talk show. The boy you knew to hate everything about the Capitol is gone.

The question is if this is who he was all along. If he loved the Capitol, and the riches, because it looks like it. You stopped seeing the wave ring he was supposed to be wearing--he promised you before he left that he would wear it every time he knew he’d be publicly appearing. He replaced it with something else, the sign of the Capitol.

They wouldn’t have forced him to replace it, because they’re always broadcasting your love story. There’s continuous love notes from Finnick, either him writing them on the show, or just saying it straight out. Some of the time the cameras will come around and you’ll stand out there in the snow and pretend like you’re in love. You manage to do well each time, they can’t tell if you’re blushing or if it's just the weather.

In reality, your love for him is turning to ice. Freezing in place, and when the summer comes around, it’ll melt for him when--if--he comes back to help you with mentoring. You don’t plan to let it blossom again in the summer, you plan to end it as soon as you’re face to face with Finnick.

Because while he’s in the Capitol, enjoying every moment of being showered with money and love from the Capitol people. While he’s going on talk shows and getting to know the enemy more, the people that had gotten his family killed. While he’s replacing a ring with sentimental value with something new and shiny from the Capitol.

While he’s out there with other girls that aren’t you. And professing his undying love on that same talk show instead of in person. And ignoring all the letters of you send him begging him to come home. And then bailing on you.

You’re doing the tour alone. You’re doing the speeches and taking the plaques and faking smiles and pretending you’re enjoying yourself. You’re facing the families both you and him killed together or seperate. You’re meeting the victors who absolutely despise you and the families that want to kill you.

You’re burning flowers in the train bathroom at night and fighting all instincts to ruin the fucking trophies that belong to him. But since he’s so sickeningly into the Capitol, you keep them and throw them into his empty bed. They clatter and clink when they’re up against each other, but they never dent or break.

You’re having nightmares about dying in the arena. About watching Finnick catch typhoid and it being your mistake. Watching him turn pale and weak from your dumbass mistake. You dying from hanging like Lennox or the girl that you had trapped in that net. What about being strung out like leather to be torn apart by bears or being awake for half a second as someone you thought was an ally drives a knife into the back of your head.

Or an innocent twelve year old boy who just wants to go home to his mom and dad. The girl you beheaded at the beginning. What if that had been Finnick or one of the others when you swung too early? You watch yourself kill these people, and take their places right after.

And this is all happening because Finnick had broken his promise of being on the tour with you. If he were to show up now, you would tell him to go home. Tell him that you never want to see or talk to him again, and you mean it. Because knowing that he broke all those promises that you guys made to each other so blatantly is so damn painful.

Finnick gets to enjoy his Capitol people. The nice clothes from his designers and wake up in a comfy bed every morning, fully rested. Or at least he’s rested enough to be sane for the entire day. You, on the other hand, are nowhere near sane.

Last night you had skipped sleeping, and found different ways to keep yourself awake. The first and the only one being, making a giant list of the things that you wouldn’t have minded trying with Finnick. Touring the Capitol together, going to the beach, getting engaged, married, having kids. Getting matching tattoos or some dumb cosmetic thing that would alter you. Officially welcome him to your family.

The list was long, and you folded it up neatly and handed it to Elysia to pass on to Finnick when she’d see him. That’ll be in a couple of days, but it’ll be sooner than you’re prepared for. You have district eleven, then twelve, and then you’ll take the train home. There, you’ll make a small appearance and give a speech or something. After that you’ll be left in the dark permanently. People will be excited for what’s to come.

One of them being, this will be your first year mentoring, and it looks like you’ll be doing it alone. It was one of the things on the list, mentoring with Finnick and getting those kids skilled enough to win. Make a streak or something, a challenge for the other districts to beat four. The houses would be full, every year families will be fed for a couple of days without worry of going hungry.

It’s not going to happen. You’re going to take over for Mags, accept the fact that you’ll be teaching these kids alone, and you’ll be forced to watch it all happen. It’ll go from Mags watching kids die, to you watching. Because in reality, it was mostly luck in the arena.

You’ve come up with an idea while you’ve been on this tour, thinking about how each person has died, and you decided that you’ll make a class almost. One that kids can tune in and out of any time. Where you teach them to tie knots and throw knives, start fires and prepare food. How to make shelter out of scarce items, how to avoid getting sick and all of that.

A pre-preparation class. You teach these kids, all this information, and then when they’re finally picked you get to expand on it all. You get to show them extra things that you haven't taught before. You show them how to get sponsors, and make friends that you’ll need.

You’re sure that the other districts are going to be very careful when it comes to alliances from now on. There’s going to be a reason why you don’t invite four to the alliance pack, and that’s because you and Finnick were a bunch of backstabbers. Gloss and Cashmere will see this, and they’ll decide that they won’t let it happen again. Hell, you guys might be the target from now on. Take out three to avoid the chances of you guys even making allies in the first place.

On that list you had made for Finnick, with all the things you wanted to do with him, you ended it quite bitterly. Like this is a warning for what’s to come when you do see him next. Even if he doesn’t come back any time soon, you’ll go to him. You’ll show up with Caesar on their own personal talk show and you’ll throw it in his face. Say it’s over and it will never be what it was. That you had done all the work while he had all the fun.

The celebrations, the victory tour, the after-interviews. And now you’ll be mentoring people all while he gets to party in the Capitol. What a joke. Especially to think that only a couple of months ago he was crying on your shoulder about it. You can’t believe that you were sympathetic in the slightest.

At the bottom of the list you wrote ‘but none of this will ever happen, and maybe that’s for the better’. It’ll be a slap to the face, maybe it’ll actually get him to respond to anything you’ve sent him.

Him reading those love poems with Caesar aren’t responses. Because you ask him genuine questions, and you elaborate on what’s going on. You try to plan out things, like him visiting and when it’d work best based on Elysia’s schedule. You tell him when the Victory Tour is and when he should be at the district. Days before so that he’ll be able to properly adjust and you can give him advice on how to take care of it.

The doors suddenly open, and you hear the clapping and the few cheers. On your walk down the stairs to the stage, you can see the faces of the people that belong to district eleven. You can see the hatred in their eyes and they want to come up here and kill you. There’s a wall of peacekeepers that keep them down, though.

You get passed some flowers, you thank the girl that hands them to you. Obviously the other girl has no clue what to do, since Finnick isn’t here to take them. The memo hasn’t passed even though you’ve been on this tour for weeks. Finnick is a no-show, just like he will be in district twelve.

When you step up to the microphone you pull out the cards that you had wrote yourself. They don’t seem so smart now that you’re staring at their families. But you take a deep breath, let it out and begin.

You have no fear of speaking in front of people. They could give you the entire nation in one huge district and you’d still be able to talk fine. But there’s a difference between one large crowd of people you don’t know, versus people that have watched you kill their kids.

At the end is when you begin to stumble a little bit, the speech being too long. You manage to clean it up last minute, and offer the crowd one winning smile. They clap and some cheer but you know that it’s to make it look like they’re cooperating. You wonder if they know that you wouldn’t have killed the boy from eleven if you had the chance. That you had saved Thyme, even if in the end you cheered when she was the one dead.

You’re about to wrap it up, but the sound of footsteps stop you, and when you look over your shoulder, the smile on your face drops. Seeing him here, on this stage is infuriating. Him showing up because of Thyme has already got you seeing red.

He tries to smile at you, and go to offer you a small hug and possibly a kiss with that, but you stop him. You don’t want him. You don’t want him after all that has happened.

Because this is salt on the ice. You’re going to explode if he lays a finger on you. You’re going to explode simply at the sight of him. And at the thought of him coming here to give a speech because of Thyme.

In fact, you lean forward to the mic, “Thank you, District Eleven for your tributes.” and then you hike up your dress as you turn to the staircase.

The people are obviously confused, there are a few people who clap. You watch as the peacekeepers move out of the way for you. The doors open and Elysia is standing inside with her mouth open.

“What was that?” she asks, motioning behind you.

You breeze past her, already tearing off the bracelets, earrings, rings, and everything else. Laurel is standing there with a box for everything, holding it out as she watches you toss the jewelry in, ignoring being careful. Next are the heels, that you trade for flats.

Beth holds out regular clothes for you, and you hear the door to the building open, from the same place you came in. One the door clicks shut, you turn to look over your shoulder, and he stands there with his hands out in a reasoning position. But you’re beyond reasoning right now.

“No, Finnick.” you snarl at him, but the angry tears are forming in your eyes, and your throat is closing up, “You don’t get to show up at District Eleven’s part of the tour, and expect me to kiss you in front of them. Especially when I know that you’re here for her!”

Finnick is silent, and you take in a gasp of air because you’re sobbing already, “You enjoy tonight. Enjoy the festivities because this is what you’re here for. Your stupid fucking flowers and plaques and certificates that I had to collect for you, are on your bed in the train.”

“(Y/n)--”

“I told you when we’d be going on the tour and I’ve had to do it alone for ten different fucking district, Finnick!” you go forward, shoving Finnick and watching him stumble, “I’m facing the families of the tributes you killed!” you shove him again, this time he falls, the peacekeepers move forward, “In fact, I saw all of them for you! You didn’t kill Thyme so she doesn’t fucking count!”

“That’s enough, (Y/n).” Elysia tries, but you’re not done.

“Go home Finnick.”

“I am home--”

“Not with me you’re not.” you snap at him, “Your home is the Capitol, and you know what? You can fuckign stay there for all I care. You can also move back into your own goddamn house, since you’re never home anyway. There’s no point in keeping your stuff in my house if we’re not together anymore.”

The tears gather in Finnick’s eyes, and you’re tired of it. You’re not going to be sucked right back into this, “Please.”

“We’ve over Finnick. Party like you’ll never see the sun tonight, because you’re not going to district twelve with me. You’ll be going back to the Capitol.”

You turn again, leaving for some adjacent room in the building. Waiting for your tears to spill over, but they dry.

You’re over it.

LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR

//MASTERLIST//

#ilguna #lacuna #finnick odair #lacuna epilogue

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legolasbadass · 4 years ago

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Heart of Gold, Chapter 16

Characters: Thorin, Dis, Thrain, Dwalin, Balin, Original Characters

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Setting: Post Azanulbizar, Pre Quest of Erebor

Notes: Hi everyone! I hope you are all well and staying safe! These notes are becoming redundant, but I will still apologize for the long wait I have imposed on you (again)! I had a crazy finals season, and then I had barely any inspiration or motivation to finish/edit this chapter! I have spent the last week and a half editing, so I would really appreciate any feedback on this chapter. I also promise (I know, big word, but I really promise!) that you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter. Some exciting things are happening in the story, and I could not be more eager to share them with you! Without any further ado, here is the long-awaited 16th chapter. I hope you enjoy it! 💙

This is the 16th chapter to my Thorin Oakenshield fan fiction, Heart of Gold, which can be read in full on ao3. Go check it out there to read from the start! Please consider liking or reblogging if you enjoyed this chapter or if you are enjoying the story so far!

Word Count: 6893

Thorin could not for the life of him concentrate on the council meeting. It felt as though they had been at it for hours. Glancing up at the clock, he saw that it was now four o'clock in the afternoon, only to realize he had no idea when the meeting had started. All he knew was that it was probably too long ago.

Four o'clock. That meant Dania would be sitting with his mother and sister for tea time. Despite all his best intentions, he could not help but think of her at the most inappropriate times.

Being the heir was his duty.

But she was his heart.

His One.

Why did his father have to recount their whole eventless journey to Lord Yngvi? It was as though he was inciting Thorin's mind to wander; like he was inviting him to drift down deep, secluded dreams where he and Dania were together, and they faced neither enmity nor aversion.

In this fanciful world, he held her proudly, boldly, and loved her frankly and openly. That was what she deserved. Nothing less. The image of her being his — wearing his clasp in her braid, his colours on her gown, and his hand on her arm — was driving him mad. That image almost made him stand up on his feet at that very moment and profess his undying love for her in front of all these council members — their opinions be damned.

But he knew he could not. He must not because he knew what their reaction would be. He knew the frown that would cover their faces and the scandalized revulsion that would flicker in their eyes. And he knew their opinion did matter, regardless of how much he wished it did not.

Dania deserved nothing less than his undivided devotion and to be adored and respected like the jewel she was. That was why he could not forgo their support and condemn her to a life of shame and shunning because she was not the one their kin approved of. Even though he knew there was no one better for him than her, that there was no one better than her to stand by his side and support him through his life. He had to keep it inside.

He could not stand the fact that she had to suffer because of their closed minds. The sight of her tear-stricken cheeks as she told him of the venture she was forced to undertake to keep their union secret haunted him. He despised all the people in this room because of it.

But he had to keep it inside. Sulking, he pressed his fists into his thighs to stop himself from screaming in rage at the injustice of it all.

A hand on his arm pulled him back to reality. Vili was looking at him; concern etched onto his face. Thorin nodded to let him know he was alright and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation unfolding before him.

"With all due respect, My Lord, we are still recovering from Azanulbizar. At this time of the year especially, our supplies are lower than they have ever been, " one of the council members was saying. He was young, perhaps even younger than Thorin, but already he stood right next to Lord Ynvgi; a sign of the trust his lord had in him, a sign of his influence in this room.

Most of the council members were young, yet already they occupied the most influential positions and already led their families.

We are still recovering from Azanulbizar.

How long would that battle haunt them?

So many people — too many — had perished, had suffered, or had been forced to grow up too fast just as he had, many years ago, on the other side of the world when that wretched worm had attacked his homeland.

"I agree with Master Agnar," one of the eldest members said as he stood up. "However, Lord Thrain, like his ancestors before him, is an ally to the Firebeards*." Thorin looked around at those words, assessing where people's loyalties lay. "He has chosen our Halls for his only daughter's wedding — a most joyous occasion — is it not our duty to lend him our hand?"

Lord Ynvgi gave a slight nod, though whether this was a gesture of agreement or dissent, Thorin did not know.

"Master Mundi is right," said a younger Dwarf whom Thorin recognized as Master Airi, the one who had warned them of the orcs' numbers before the battle. "Besides, a wedding would be a welcomed distraction from the hard winter we have suffered."

Several side glances were shared in response. His words rang true, though perhaps they did not form the most persuasive argument.

At the other end of the table, a tall Dwarrow stood and looked to Lord Yngvi.

"Yes, Lady Ragnhildr," Lord Yngvi nodded.

"Perhaps a bargain may be struck, My Lords," she began in a silvery voice. "I believe it is safe to say that I am not the only one who would be honoured for the wedding to take place here in Lord Yngvi's Hall. We may even lend Lord Thrain a hand as he ventures further South and finds a place to settle permanently — "

"Lay Ragnhildr, I usually applaud your council, but this is preposterous. We do not run a charity," the Dwarf right next to Lord Ynvgi interjected.

Thorin heard his father sigh as Lady Ragnhildr smiled scornfully. "Perhaps if you would let me finish speaking my mind, there would be no need to insult my intelligence and hurt your own in the process."

A few, including Vili, had to stifle their snorts.

"As I was saying," she went on with a side glance to the one who had interrupted her, "Perhaps we may strike a deal. The wedding takes place here, and we offer help as you find a place to settle. In exchange, as soon as your forges are up and running, you must give us a third of the weapons produced within the year, and we have your word that if any orcs, or even Men, come to attack us, we can count on your support."

She and Lord Yngvi were staring at each other as she spoke, and he was nodding in approval as she went.

"This is not charity," she said, scanning the table until her eyes landed on Thrain. "Nor is this a favour. This is business. As many of my colleagues have pointed out: times are hard. We will only survive if we can count on one another."

Thorin found himself nodding in approval. Of course, fulfilling such a deal would be a strain on them, but what other choice did they have? They needed their help. And his father, who was intent on Dis being married as soon as possible — "for the good of the line of Durin," as he put it — would find even more cause to agree to this plan.

Thorin had to admire Lady Ragnhildr's negotiation skills. He only had to place himself in her shoes to see that, given the circumstances, this was the best offer she could make and that it was actually an advantage to both parties.

Fortunately, Thrain agreed with his son's unspoken opinions. It only took one glance between them, and the king was nodding. "Very well, Lord Yngvi."

"I am honoured to host your daughter's wedding, Lord Thrain," Lord Yngvi said formerly, but there was something in his tone that hinted at old friends coming together rather than two lords signing an agreement. "Especially since, long ago, I was very close to Lord Viljar, Lord Vili's father," he added for the benefit of the younger council members. "This wedding shall be a celebration of my friendship with him as well as my friendship with you, Lord Thrain.

"There is much planning to get through before that joyous day is upon us," he went on. "But I think this is progress enough for today. I, for one, would like a very large ale." As soon as he said so, the boy sitting next to him stood to fulfill his request. "This meeting is adjourned, for now."

Finally, Thorin thought with a quiet sigh. He was satisfied with how the negotiations had concluded, but all he wanted now was to rest. He still would not get that. There was to be a feast tonight, and then there would be more negotiations tomorrow, and then soon enough, they would be back on the road.

"Are you alright, brother?"

Thorin turned to face Vili and froze. Images of warm Spring days filled with honeycakes and laughter flashed in his mind, juxtaposed with blood and screams. Brother. Frerin always called him that. Not Thorin. Brother.

"Thorin?"

"I am fine," Thorin said firmly, then, more gently, "I am fine. Thank you."

His father, along with Mimir, Dania's father, and Nar, was still conversing with Lord Yngvi, so Thorin made his way out of the council room. He was halfway down the hallway when he realized Vili was walking next to him.

"So," Vili said tentatively. "How are you, truly?"

"I told you: I am fine."

"I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you by calling you brother, I just thought — "

"You did not offend me," Thorin said as he looked at him. "Really. You did not."

"Alright," Vili said with a tilt of his head. "Then, do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Thorin sighed.

"About what is making you so irritable — so . . . distracted," he said.

Thorin frowned, his jaw set. "I am not — "

"Come now, Thorin," Vili chuckled. "I practically had to push you so that you'd listen in there. And your jaw was clenched so tight I was worried you would break your teeth."

How insolent, Thorin thought. He hadn't realized it was Vili's place to study him like he was some sick animal. He had half a mind to tell him off, but then his anger might be interpreted as a sign that there was some truth to Vili's observations. There was truth to it, Thorin did not deny that, but he would not admit it aloud either.

"Is this about Dania?"

Thorin could not hold back his outburst this time.

"What does she have to do with any of this?" he demanded, looking down at him.

His need to protect her — and their secret — mingled with the fear of being discovered, and what that would bring about fogged his mind. He could not let anyone take her away from him. He would not.

"I — I do not know," Vili stammered. "I just thought — "

Looking around, Vili took a deep breath, then looked back to Thorin with softness and determination in his eyes. "Listen, Thorin, I spoke with Dis and from the things she said — I gathered there might be something between you two."

Thorin eyed him intently for a moment. "You mean Dis told you?"

Vili sighed. "Yes, she told me," he admitted as he scratched his pale beard. At least he had the decency to sound embarrassed.

Exasperation stretched Thorin's already overloaded mind. Leaning toward Vili to avoid behind overhead, he groaned, "you cannot tell anyone." He did not even wait for an answer before moving away, though he heard Vili trailing after him.

***

Staring at the soaked leaves at the bottom of her cup, Dania sighed inwardly. The afternoon was passing away slowly, and with each minute, the respite it had promised was diluted like the taste of honey she chased in her tea.

Dania was sick of tea. And most of all, she was sick of the idle chat. Dis didn't seem to mind too much. After all, she was being bombarded with questions about her upcoming wedding, which kept her mind occupied and her cheeks warm and red. Dania, on the other hand, felt out of place.

Sitting on a luxurious, currant red sofa, Dania found herself more easily invested in her surroundings than in the conversation. After all, it went on as it usually did. Ester gossiped, Nal laughed, and Illiana scolded them when they went too far, though a smirk always tugged at her lips. Beside Dania, Lady Adis was silent, while Ester's mother, Lady Inger, and Lady Vigga, Lord Yngvi's wife, participated in the conversation enthusiastically.

Lady Vigga was also quite the gossiper, though everything else about her was still a mystery. The many beads and jewels in her hair and beard marked her as a lady of high standing. She had a handsome face, though her thin lips and her wide-set eyes made her appear stern. The dark red of her dress did nothing to counter that impression.

She obviously had expensive taste, if this room was anything to go by. A stone table stood between the sofa Dania and the queen sat on and the other on which Dis, Illiana, and Nal were sitting. Ester, her mother and Lady Vigga occupied three of the four other chairs, made of some dark wood of which Dania should have remembered the name, and upholstered in faded golden damask. Covering the stone floor was a thick rug, its colours similar to those on the tapestries on the walls. One depicted a large figure with a long beard adorned with dozens of intricate, coloured beads. Dania recognized him as Mahal, their maker. In front of him were seven Dwarves looking up, cowering before him as he raised his hammer.*

Lady Yngvi had offered this sitting room, along with its adjacent chambers, to Lady Adis and Lord Thrain as long as they remained in his Hall. Lord Thrain, however, had insisted on them remaining in their encampment just outside the gates. Whether this was because of pride or simply because he did not wish to abuse their hospitality, Dania was not sure, but she was grateful for it.

When they had first entered the sitting room, Lady Vigga warmly welcomed them, but her eyes soon halted on Dania.

"You must be Dania," Lady Vigga had said with a wry smile. "I have heard a lot about you."

Dania had no idea how to respond to such a greeting. Of course, she was used to people giving her odd looks and whispering behind her back, but that did not make it pleasant. And while she was used to it, it was clear that Lady Adis was not, and somehow she seemed to have taken personally the looks Dania had received.

"Yes, Dania is quite the accomplished young lady," Lady Adis had responded in the same tone as she placed an arm around Dania's shoulders.

Lady Adis and Lady Vigga had glared at one another for a moment as the hand on Dania's shoulder tightened its grip. It was a protective gesture, Dania had realized with embarrassment.

Lady Adis had been quiet since then, and Dania felt terribly guilty. Always, her presence seemed to be asking people to pick a side, as it had now. Dania hated it. Yet, at the same time, she could hardly believe Lady Adis had taken her defence. Did she feel obligated to do so? Or did she actually care? Dania knew her enough to know that the answer probably resided in the latter, but she still could not believe someone would go so far as to ruin their afternoon to defend her. Once again, she was immeasurably indebted to Lady Adis, but even more than this, she was profoundly touched.

As though sensing her inner turmoil, Lady Adis squeezed Dania's hand, a gesture that made her feel like a child, but not in a bad way. It told her that it was alright for her to be upset, that she was not weak for feeling so, and that she was allowed to seek comfort — comfort which Lady Adis wanted to give her.

Promise me that you will tell me if you are feeling scared or lonely ever again. I am here for you, she had said the night the soldiers had returned from Azanulbizar.

Her touch was a reminder of that conversation they'd had, and Dania was so grateful for it.

It was the mention of Thorin's name that brought Dania's attention back to the Dwarrows before her.

"I almost did not recognize him when I saw him yesterday," Lady Vigga said. "He has grown into a very fine young Dwarf. And he looks so much like you, Lady Adis."

"Yes, he does," Lady Adis replied with a small smile.

"I imagine it must be odd for him to see his younger sister married before him," Lady Vigga said.

So they had come to it that quickly. Ester shifted in her seat at those words; that alone was enough to provoke the monster inside Dania.

"Not at all," Lady Adis replied. "I see no reason to rush him into an unwanted marriage. When he finds the right person, he will be ready."

From the corner of her eye, Dania saw Dis glance at her quickly. Dania left her face a blank canvas, yet she could feel moisture forming in her hands, and the ever-present ache she'd fought so hard to bury bloomed again in her stomach.

Whatever Lady Adis said, Lord Thrain did appear to be in a hurry to marry his daughter. Dis, like Dania, was only forty-five years old, and that thought did nothing to ease Dania's worries. Of course, they could not force Thorin to marry, but they could very well place him in a position where he had little choice but to consent to it. Dania hoped it would not come to this because she would have no right to get in the way if it did.

She would not let him sacrifice everything for her.

"Who said anything about 'unwanted'?" Lady Inger said with a chuckle, sounding as though she was attempting to lighten the mood, yet her eyes spoke a different language entirely. She wanted something. "So many young Dwarrows must have their eyes set on him."

Dania hated the way they talked about Thorin. She hated how they talked about him as though he was a piece of meat; a pawn in their grand game of chess.

"I do not think my brother would be overjoyed to learn you were using his personal life as tea time entertainment," Dis said dispassionately. Dania wanted to kiss her in thanks for voicing her thoughts.

"Oh, my dear," Lady Vigga said with a laugh, "this has nothing to do with his personal life."

"You are talking about his marriage prospects — that has everything to do with his personal life!" Dis retorted.

"Not if you are the heir to the throne of Erebor," Lady Vigga said. "Whomever he marries will be a queen one day. This is politics; not love."

"Perhaps these two concepts are not mutually exclusive," Illiana said. "Dis and Vili's upcoming marriage is a political one, but they do love each other."

Smiling softly, Dania and Illiana exchanged a glance. Dis' cheeks had turned a bright red.

"If the prince has his sister's sense then, yes; he will learn to love the one who will make the right queen," Lady Vigga said with a wave of her hand as though they were discussing whether one should wear red or blue to a feast.

"Ah, and the prince is so devoted to his duties. He will make the right choice," Lady Inger said as she shared a look with her daughter. The monster inside Dania coiled its tail and roared.

Nevertheless, Dania could not help but notice that Lady Adis was silent. Everything — or, almost everything — Laddy Vigga had said was true, and yet the queen's silence appeared to Dania as a small beacon of hope. Perhaps it was foolish. It probably was. Yet Dania clung to it like it was a ray of sun, and she was a flower that had bloomed too early in the Spring and found itself in a dark and barren world.

"It is getting late," Lady Adis said as she rose from her seat, "and we must get ready for the feast tonight."

"Yes, and what an event that will be," Lady Vigga replied with a too-wide smile. "I look forward to seeing you there."

Lady Adis nodded, then turned to Dania. "Are you coming, dear?"

Dania smiled shyly at the term of endearment and stood. She gave a quick curtsy to Lady Vigga then gladly followed Lady Adis and Dis out of the sitting room. A long sigh escaped her lips when the door closed behind her.

"Yes, I quite agree with that sentiment," Lady Adis said in response.

Dania blushed, having hoped her most improper display of irritation would go unnoticed, but the queen did not seem to mind.

"I hope you girls will excuse my behaviour," Lady Adis said as they walked down the curved hallway. "It is not like me to lose my temper in this way. But, then again, I have always despised Lady Vigga, and she was particularly bothersome today."

"You mean to say she was an absolute wretch," Dis said with a grimace, causing Dania to snicker.

"Dis!" Lady Adis hissed in reproach, but there was an amused gleam in her eyes. Then a dry cough escaped her lips, causing Dis and Dania to stare at her in concern. "I'm alright — the air was just — quite stuffy in there." When her breathing recovered, she went on, "Dania, I do hope you will not let that viper's words get to you."

"It's alright," Dania said with a shrug. "I'm used to it."

"That does not mean you should accept it," Lady Adis replied.

They had made it back to the crowded entrance hall. Beyond the large stone gate, the sun was beginning to set so that the whole room basked in its warmth.

"Vili!" Dis suddenly called out and walked ahead to where her betrothed had appeared. He smiled widely when he saw her, and the two exchanged a warm embrace, without a care for the stares they were attracting from the crowd of people around them.

"Listen to me carefully, Dania," Lady Adis' voice called her attention away from the couple. "You are a wonderful girl; smart, brave, and above all, you have a kindness that can warm even the coldest of hearts. Many people in this world are close-minded and will seek to tear you down because they refuse to challenge their beliefs. You must not let their words reach your heart."

Dania stared at her with wide eyes, silent as she let the motherly care in Lady Adis' eyes wash over her, feeding her the courage to speak.

"My Lady," she said hesitantly. "What is it that they say?" Lady Adis frowned. Taking this as a sign of misunderstanding, Dania went on. "Lady Vigga said she had heard a lot about me. . . ."

Closing her eyes for an instant, Lady Adis took a deep breath. "Some — like Lady Vigga — believe that you are not one of us; that you are — "

"An outlander," Dania said flatly, looking down at the ground. She only looked up when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"We are all outlanders in this part of the world," Lady Adis said. "And you are one of us. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Besides, in what world is it acceptable to scorn someone based on where they come from — something that is out of your control?"

Dania nodded slowly. Lady Adis' words seemed contradictory to her. She was one of them, but she could not be proud of the blood that flowed through her. The blood of their enemies.

As though she heard these thoughts, Lady Adis' grip on her shoulder tightened. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. You must know that we cannot judge an entire race based on the actions of a single individual. Whatever words you might have heard thrown around behind your back, know that your mother — she did not bewitch your father or do anything ridiculous of the sort; they loved each other, and you carry their love within you every day.

"Lady Vigga was wrong about many things, but about this in particular: not everything is about politics; and in times such as these where grief has its claws on us all, it is more important than ever to cling to love."

Tears stung Dania's eyes, and she knew Lady Adis would have understood — perhaps even more than she did herself — but they were in a crowded space; the last thing Dania wanted was to give these people more cause to stare at her.

"Are you alright, Dania?" spoke the deep voice she knew so well and loved dearly.

She curtsied before nodding, but he could read her eyes better than anyone. Concern marked his features as his mother spoke, but neither of them was really listening. All Dania could think of was the conspiring looks Ester and Lady Inger had shared earlier. Don't let them take you from me, she begged him wordlessly.

"Thorin, love, are you listening to me?" Lady Adis said, causing both Dania and Thorin to blush.

"Sorry, amad, I have a lot on my mind," Thorin said as he tore his gaze away from Dania. "What did you say?"

Lady Adis stared at him for a moment before speaking. "I asked you if all was well? I have not seen your father anywhere."

"Yes, all is well. There are still many things to discuss, but, so far, we have struck a good deal with Lord Yngvi. Father is still with Nar and Master Mimir; I imagine they were finalizing some arrangements with Lord Yngvi."

Dis and Vili reappeared at that moment. Dania frowned as Dis looked at her brother for a moment, then at her, a guilty expression on her face.

"Are you coming to the feast tonight, Dania?" Thorin asked her. She could not read his mind, but it seemed to her as though he was deliberately avoiding his sister's eyes.

"Yes, I am, Lord Thorin," she replied.

"Speaking of which," Dis interjected, "we should go and get ready, don't you think?" she asked her.

"Yes, I suppose," Dania said hesitantly. She barely had time to curtsy to Thorin and the queen and give Vili a small smile before Dis dragged her away from the crowd.

They scurried along the path just outside the gates, passed by the guards, and cut across the encampment until they entered their tent.

"Mahal, what's your hurry?" Dania said breathlessly as Dis started pacing in the small space between the two makeshift beds.

"Oh, Dania I'm sorry — so sorry — I didn't think — I thought it would not matter — but of course it does; you told me it was a secret — "

The world froze around Dania. "What?"

"Thorin already chastised me for it so," — she waved her hands in the air in defence — "there's no need to do it again. It is only that — well, we are going to be married, I should not keep secrets from him. But then Thorin went on and on about how it was not my secret but yours and — "

"You told Vili," Dania said with a relieved sigh.

"Yes and — "

"Well, start with that next time! You had me worried!"

It was Dis' turn to freeze. "You mean — you mean you are not mad?"

Dania did not know what she was feeling. How had Vili reacted? He certainly had not taken the first opportunity to divulge the secret to King Thrain — and she doubted he ever would — yet instead of being relieved — if not outright happy — that someone else knew of their love for each other and was not repulsed by it, Dania felt even more dejected.

Judging by the bits and pieces of information she had gathered, Thorin did not seem overjoyed that Vili knew their secret. She knew how important it was for them to take their time before they could try and convince their kin of the viability of their union and the strength of their bond, but this was Vili, not the whole council chamber. Yet letting even one person know, someone they knew well, and that would soon be part of his family, appeared to Thorin as one stroke too many on the battered barrier that protected their shared heart. That only reminded Dania of how little they could trust anyone with their secret, and by extension, just how fanciful was the idea of their parents blessing their union.

But Dania was not mad. Despite her befuddled thoughts, despite how much she wanted to scream at Mahal for placing the other half of her soul so close to her yet so beyond her reach, that foolish and naive part of her mind was glad that Vili knew. He was her friend, and he would soon be her best friend's husband. It felt . . . right for him to know.

Shaking her head, Dania frowned. "No it's — it's Vili. I trust him. You trust him."

"Thank Mahal," Dis exclaimed, relief flooding her every word. Dania wished she could feel the same relief.

Dania let herself fall onto her makeshift bed. They were silent for a while before Dis sat down beside her, their knees touching, and she gently grabbed her hand.

"Amad was right, Dania," she said. "Don't listen to what Lady Vigga says."

Bitting her lips as a cascade of emotions climbed up her throat, Dania shrugged. "But Dis — she was right. Whoever Thorin marries one day, she'll be a queen — "

"You mean you will be — "

"Dis — " Dania said breathlessly, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to speak but then resigned herself to the fact that she knew not how to translate her feelings into words. "I don't want to talk about this for now, alright? Let's just get ready for the feast."

***

The dining room was even more imposing than the sitting room they had visited earlier. Columns and complex geometric patterns were carved directly into the stone walls and had been polished so skilfully that they shone like marble. Most remarkable were the blue streaks of colour that gave these mountains their name gleaming in the candlelight, rippling through the stones like the waves Dania had once admired on the Long Lake.

Dozens of early Spring flowers and candles decorated the long stone table; an effort made to make the guests feel welcomed, but all it did was make them feel slightly out of place. Dania knew this was not just her own impression. Dis had not let go of her arm since they had walked inside, except to let Dania curtsy.

When the doors opened to reveal Lady Vigga, holding onto Lord Yngvi's arm, all Dania wanted to do was shrink up and disappear, but she was already at the back of the room, and no one paid her any mind. Lady Vigga looked even more imposing than she had a few hours before. She wore purple this time, and the cuffs and neckline of her gown were adorned with golden embroidery that matched the ornamental belt at her waist, attached with a large clasp bearing the sigil of the Firebeards.

Despite having had the chance to discard her travel-worn dress and don her only other gown, which Lady Adis had a seamstress restore to a suitable state, the other Dwarrows' fine attire intimidated Dania. She should have known better than to feel this way. With everything that had befallen them in the past year, fabrics and accoutrements should have been the least of her worries, but they became one of the many things that reminded her that she simply did not belong to this life. Her gown was a dull ash grey where the Dwarrows around her wore bright fabrics, embroidered and bejewelled, and her braids were plain compared to the precious beads that adorned their hair and beards. Even Dis was not so richly dressed, for they could not afford it, but then again, the princess did not require such embellishments to appear more elegant and regal than all the people in this room. Something in her countenance spoke more about her status than any jewel ever could.

"There you are!"

Dania and Dis turned around to see Ester, Nal, and Illiana walking towards them. They all wore their prettiest gowns, but only Ester looked like she belonged with the Firebeard ladies. Dania wondered how Ester could wear such expensive fabrics and so many jewels and not feel guilty when most of them had barely had anything to eat during their journey from Dunland.

"Oh, Dis, you look beautiful!" Ester said. Then, without giving anyone else the chance to speak, she asked, "is your brother here?"

Dis' hold on Dania's arm tightened. "Er — well, if he is not, he should be here any minute," the princess said.

"Ester has been talking about him our whole way here," Nal said teasingly. "I do not think I could stand another minute of it!" Me neither, Dania thought.

"Look, there's Dwalin!" Dis said in an attempt to change the topic. Something flickered in Ester's eyes, but she looked away, perhaps to appear uninterested or perhaps because she truly was indifferent to the warrior's presence. Dania was having more and more trouble understanding her motives. But then she remembered the look in Lady Inger's eyes, and she realized that it was possible that a union with Thorin was not something Ester wanted but that her parents wanted for her. Dania did not know which of these two scenarios bothered her more.

Illiana was talking about Lady Vigga's offer to give them a tour of the Hall the next day when Dania's attention was stolen by a group of people entering the room, or rather, by one Dwarf in particular. Thorin was standing next to his father and mother, along with Balin, Nar, and Mimir, looking as handsome as ever. His hair appeared to have been freshly washed and braided, and he was dressed in the deep blue tunic he usually wore to such occasions. The colours were more faded than Dania remembered, but nothing could affect the majesty of his presence.

As she slowly made her way toward her father, Thorin's eyes met her own, conjuring a deep blush from her cheeks. When she was finally close enough to the group, she curtsied, then grabbed the arm her father was extending toward her, but all she could think of was escaping this room to be alone with Thorin and feel his soft lips scorching her skin. As though he could hear her most improper thoughts, the corner of his lips curled up in a smile. That only made the heat inside Dania grow. Damn that Dwarf!

She was glad when they finally took their seats, if only because it might be easier for her to control herself while they sat at different tables. Mimir led her to a table near the main one where the king and his family were sitting with Lord Ygnvi and his wife, so Dania could still see Thorin quite clearly, but she forced herself not to look, or at least, not look as often as she wished to. Her father sat on her right and immediately began conversing with one of Lord Yngvi's advisors while she turned to another young Dwarf who had just pulled up her chair.

"Oh, thank you," Dania said, startled by his kindness.

"Not at all," he said with a warm smile before sitting down. "My name is Airi."

Dania bowed her head in reverence. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Airi. I am Dania."

"Airi will do; not Master Airi," he said with a chuckle. "And the pleasure is all mine, Lady Dania."

It was Dania's turn to chuckle. "I am no Lady."

"Really? Well, you have the countenance of one," Airi replied.

Blushing, Dania looked away, only to find Thorin staring at her through the many people separating them. He looked at her questioningly, but she could do nothing but give a short, almost imperceptible nod and tear her gaze away from him.

Dania had not thought she could be more confounded by her surroundings until the food was served. There was chicken, roast beef, and sausages, too many kinds of cheese to choose from, freshly baked bread, roasted potatoes, and enough wine to drown in. She had not seen this much food in years.

"Have you been enjoying your stay in the Blue Mountains so far?" Airi asked her as she delved into the dishes. One taste of the potatoes was enough to convince her to fill her entire plate with them.

Dania thought of her afternoon with Lady Vigga, but the delicious taste of the wine made her nod in response. "Yes, it is lovely here."

"Have you had a chance to take a tour of the Hall?" Airi asked.

"No yet, I am afraid," Dania said.

"It would be my honour to accompany you around the place."

"I would be honoured, whenever that may be," Dania replied as she took another mouthful of sausages.

"Well, there should be plenty of time for that, given that you will be staying here for a while, I gather," Airi said. "I am certain there are many things that would interest you. The ballroom for one — "

"Is there a library?" Dania asked before she could stop and think twice about interrupting him. She needed to look for other plants to help with her . . . problem, and a library was the place she would find information.

"Yes, of course there is. I could show you, if you would like," he said with a smile.

"I would like that very much," Dania replied in the same tone.

"What would you like?" Dania's father asked as he leaned in toward her.

"I was just telling your daughter that I would be more than happy to accompany her to the library, Master Mimir," Airi explained.

"You know my father?" Dania asked.

"I was at the council meeting today," Airi said, nodding.

Dania turned to her father. "Yes, about that — How did it go?"

"Quite well, I would say, given the king's fixed ambition." He spoke using courtly equivocations to avoid being misunderstood by overeager ears, but Dania knew he was talking of Lord Thrain's hurry to marry Dis to Vili. "Besides, the important thing is that Lord Ygnvi will lend us a hand when we are ready to make our way further South along the mountains. And he has extended his hospitality so that those who are not fit to travel may stay behind in the meantime."

Dania knew that "those not fit to travel" probably included Dwarrows, meaning she would have to stay behind while Thorin left with his father's chosen companions, for Mahal knows how long. The thought left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

"You will have plenty of things to do while we are gone," Mimir said as he noted the slight frown on her face. "There is also much to look forward to before that moment is upon us. Do not fret, gehyith."

Dania gave her father a small smile to ease his worries, but she stopped listening to what her table companions were saying. Glancing up toward Thorin, she saw that he was now conversing with Ester and a Dwarf Dania recognized as her father. They were standing next to the seat Thorin had just vacated to greet them, and she was smiling and laughing at every little thing he said. Somehow, Ester looked even prettier than she usually did. Grinding her teeth, Dania tried to look away, but it was as though an invisible hand was holding her head in place, forcing her to watch as her heart was slowly being ripped away from her. Don't let them take you from me.

When the desserts were served, she regained some of her spirits — that was the power of a perfect trifle — but her mind was still preoccupied with Thorin and the dismay the thought of their separation was causing her. Mimir noticed his daughter's change of mood, and as soon as the first opportunity presented itself, he excused them and led her toward the exit. Dania was both thankful for and annoyed by this gesture, for now, she would not even be able to steal a glance at Thorin, who would undoubtedly be stuck at the feast for at least another hour.

Before stepping out of the room, Dania daringly glanced back to the main table, and she noticed Thorin staring back at her, evidently not listening to a word Ester was saying. Even from this distance, she recognized the fiery look he was giving her, full of promises for their next secret meeting. Perhaps her father was right; she did have much to look forward to.

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