#that final conversation is almost more for her sake than grace's

[catsafari25]

My housemate (who thinks that I only (attempt to) write original stuff) (albeit slowly) walked in on me flicking through PHM (for fanfic research purposes) and assumed I was re-reading it, and I haven't had the heart to admit the speed at which I fall down the fanfic rabbit hole

(Also, not what I was looking for, but it looks like Stratt calls Grace "Dr Grace" at all times, all but for two exceptations: 1) when the research lab blows up and she's calling for him and 2) just as he's hustled off to isolation before the launch ("Just think of the kids, Grace"))

(In their very last conversation, she doesn't call him by any name at all)

[akwolfgrl]

Part 3! LFT We have some jelly zoro with us today. Not sure abut how I worte Nami and Ussop any feedback is welcome

Zoro watched as Sanji flitted about, graceful in his movements as he plated everyone's dinners. Luffy was already inhaling the leg of lamb beside him. A large plate of sliced bread with a bowl in the middle was placed in the center of the table and soon came the bowls brimming with seafood, muscles, clams, shrimp and fish in a reddish orange broth. A second bowl of plain white rice was placed in front of him. Zoro hides a smirk, looks like someone had time to read this past hour.

"Dessert is in the oven rising, it will be out shortly so please no yelling," Curly brows shot him a pointed look before his cheeks turned red and he had to hide his face. "What can I get everyone to drink?"

"Wine would be lovely," Nami said with a smile, that witch would use anyone until they had nothing left to give.

"Of course Nami-swan! I'll fetch it right away! The love sick fool gushed, Zoro swore he saw hearts in his eyes.

"Sake," He ordered gruffly scowling. "Or is that too much for you to handle," Zoro didn't like the fact that the man he had in lap just an hour ago, the man who made such erotic noises would pay so much attention to some else and a woman at that.

"Burte you're lucky I have soufflés in the oven," The blond turned his attention back to where it belonged, the marks Zoro had left on his pale skin still there.

Zoro couldn't resist the smirk that graced his face. He shouldn't be jealous of Nami. They weren't in a relationship, not even a sexual one…well not yet anyway. But that would be fixed tonight, Zoro needed more of the man in front of him.

"A nice dry white wine pairs best with the Bouillabaisse," Cook placed a glass of wine in front of Nami before serving Usopp and Luffy saving him for last. "Here's your sake marimo," Sanji held out a bottle of sake for him to take.

"Finally," Zoro deliberately brushed his fingers against Sanjis causing him to blush. He was easy to tease when he was like this, tonight was going to be fun.

After everyone ate their fill, the food had been as good as had tasted when he had kissed the cook earlier, Sanji went back to the oven. Zoro sat back and enjoyed the view, those fancy pants of his hugged every inch and curve of the cook's shapely ass and thick muscular thighs.

"Oi cook can you crush a watermelon with those thighs," Zoro had to know, he was certain he could.

"What!" He shot up the pan in his hands tilting dangerously. "Why would you ask that!" Zoro could see the back of the blonde's neck and the tips of his ears were bright red and waited to see how red and flushed his face was.

"Oooo!! That would be so cool!" Luffy of course was all for it, for very different reasons of course.

"Is that even possible?" Name asked.

"It would be a waste of food and I will not be wasting any food!" The cook spoke his voice raising in pitch, almost yelling as he turned around his face red as Zoro had hoped. I'm his arms was a tray with three brown fluffy desserts and one yellow one. He placed the brown ones in front of the others and the yellow in front of him.

"Aww why does Zoro get a yellow one?" Luffy whined.

"Because he doesn't like chocolate," His shoulders were relaxed, clearly thinking the watermelon conversation was over.

"Why can't you just put a bowl under the watermelon?" Zoro asked, digging into the fluffy food in front of him before taking a bite, it was more salty and savory rather than sweet.

"He's got a point, Sanji, unless you're afraid of failing? I mean not everyone can be as strong as the great captain Ussop!" Ussop attempted to flex with his tiny arms, he could use a good work out. Zoro would lend him some weights if he wanted.

"Please Sanji?" Nami only had to bat her eyes and the dam cook folded.

"Anything for you!"

"Yah hooo!" Luffy cheered in-between shoveling bites of food.

Zoro had gotten the outcome he wanted, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth. It annoyed him how much it bothered him that Nami had such sway over the cook.

[aiyexayen]

For the mini ficlet ask game - ship: hanwenzhouliu 💜💜💜

It is a cool, gray day in spring when the guest they've waited for finally arrives at Siji Shanzhuang.

The bells at the gate do not startle the birds in the garden, but they do seem to startle the man in pink who is playing the flute there; his hands fumble as he puts his instrument away and he rushes for the large double doors. He takes a moment to compose himself before opening them.

"Liu Qianqiao," Wen Kexing greets their guest. His voice has genuine warmth this time and, after weeks of practise in anticipation of this moment, he does not even come close to calling her Yan Gui.

Liu Qianqiao is unaccompanied and dressed simply, perhaps to avoid trouble on the road. In response to Wen Kexing's informality she bows deeply.

From his place in the shadows, Zhou Zishu winces. He'd instructed Han Ying to take the other disciples out to the east orchard this morning--and every morning for the past nine of them--in anticipation of this being difficult, but he had still hoped, for Lao Wen's sake, that this would go smoothly.

"Wen-daren," Liu Qianqiao greets as she straightens, face stone, eyes flint.

Because it is Wen Kexing, he does not miss a beat.

He bows with grace as if he always intended to do so and when he says, "After such a long journey, Luo-guniang must wish to come in and rest," it's with such gentlemanly poise that even Zhou Zishu could almost believe it. Almost.

But every line in Liu Qianqiao's body tenses just a fraction and Zhou Zishu knows that she, too, can see where the edges of Wen Kexing's smile have gone brittle. He must admit he's impressed; even Ying'er isn't that good at reading Lao Wen yet, and he's been here since midwinter. Is it their history together, or is she just that good? An apprentice of his shifu isn't someone he's interested in underestimating.

"Wen-daren has asked me here on behalf of Zhou-zhuangzhu. I don't dare waste time before meeting with him, lest the inn down the mountain give my room away."

Whatever Liu Qianqiao sees in Wen Kexing's mood, she meets it with ice.

Gu Xiang, Zhou Zishu thinks, finally putting a finger on the familiarity of the attitude.

"Zhou-shixiong insists you stay here," Wen Kexing asserts with that same forced smile, "and has ordered a suite prepared in advance."

Gu Xiang if she was made of elegant refinement instead of fierce belligerence, Zhou Zishu amends. There is something almost courtly about Liu Qianqiao, and he comes up with at least seven possible explanations for this in the short time it takes Wen Kexing to process her insult.

"The generosity of Zhou-zhuangzhu exceeds his reputation, and I am not worthy; I don't dare accept."

It is at this point that Zhou Zishu tunes out the conversation--or rather, he lets the words flow over him, to be catalogued in some back corner of his mind as he pays attention to the real communication at play. The words are of minimal importance, even more than usual, which is just as well given how greatly his own name is being abused.

He will give them thirty seconds more to de-escalate and then he will step out of his hiding spot.

"Wen-shishu!"

"Wen-shishu, there you are," Han Ying calls as he approaches. "Bi-shidi needs--" A small inhaled breath. "Oh. My apologies, guniang, shishu."

A third voice cuts into the tension like a blade stuck into flesh--deceptively easy for those with practise; the certainty of blood, now, if suddenly removed.

Zhou Zishu tenses.

Zhou Zishu opens his eyes in time to see the shift in Han Ying's body language as he bows to Liu Qianqiao. He in no way authorised this move. He hopes Han Ying knows just how much hell he has coming for this stunt.

Liu Qianqiao's narrowed eyes dart from the newcomer to Wen Kexing and back. But even from here Zhou Zishu can see Wen Kexing's relief is too visible, the tension easing at the corners of his expression; he clearly didn't authorise this, either.

"Han Ying, this is Liu Qianqiao, ambassador of Gui Gu and an important guest of your shifu's," he says. "Liu Qianqiao, this is Han Ying, Siji Shanzhuang's head disciple."

"You had something you needed?" Wen Kexing prompts.

There is a prolonged moment of silence when Han Ying looks up from his bow and into Liu Qianqiao's eyes. Some might call it instant connection, a spark, fate. Zhou Zishu calls it two players on a field sizing one another up.

It's equally gratifying to see Wen Kexing oblivious to Han Ying's intentions--an indirect compliment to Zhou Zishu's own training--as it is to see Liu Qianqiao's suspicions playing in the dips and hollows of her face.

Han Ying's previous urgency creeps back onto his face, not too quickly to be believable. Absently, Zhou Zishu nods his approval.

"Bi-shidi is in the kitchen and needs your help fixing whatever he's done to the soup this time. He said it's urgent."

"I see."

Lips pursing, Wen Kexing sets his shoulders. It could not be more obvious he is about to make one last bid to get Liu Qianqiao to stay before he rushes off to handle this issue. Zhou Zishu shakes his head.

"It is acceptable," she says.

"Shishu," Han Ying slips in, just before Wen Kexing can speak, the model of an attentive disciple, "if it's acceptable to Liu-guniang, I will see her to her quarters while you go help Bi-shidi."

He flashes a tiny smile at Liu Qianqiao and to Zhou Zishu's surprise, she smiles back. Reserved, but she's decided to be genuinely amused by this development, apparently.

"It is acceptable?" Wen Kexing repeats, eyebrows lifting.

Liu Qianqiao does not look at him. "Han-daxia, I am in your care."

"Then I'll leave first. Liu-guniang, if you'll excuse me." With nothing more to be said, Wen Kexing briefly grips Han Ying's shoulder and then takes off toward the kitchen. Their unspoken gratitute--in fact, all the small unspoken ways they have learned to communicate these days--warms Zhou Zishu's heart.

He wonders, though, how long was Han Ying watching? Long enough to go create a real situation in the kitchens? Or only long enough to lie? He's always been very good at thinking on his feet, Ying'er.

Zhou Zishu watches Liu Qianqiao take Han Ying's arm and let herself be led away with a complete absence of fuss. When they're out of sight he lets out a long breath, slumping back against the wall.

That could have gone much worse--Liu Qianqiao has agreed to stay and no battles broke out in the courtyard at all. Not to mention, the exchange was very...informative. The next few days stretch out in Zhou Zishu's mind like a puzzle, a maze that needs careful navigation. If he plays his cards right, he's certain now that he can get what he wants from Gui Gu, and from Liu Qianqiao herself.

And he has quite a few cards left to play. He can hear one even now, singing badly as she hangs up the laundry with help from Xiao Cao, intentionally kept in the dark about their imminent guest.

For now, though, Zhou Zishu has a head disciple that needs talking to, and a shidi whose ruffled feathers need soothing. With one last glance in the direction of the guest house, he heads for the kitchen.

[ca-8]

𐋐𖼜𖼜 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚉𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊: 𝙰𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜 (𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝙰𝚛𝚎) 𖼜𖼜𐋐

Disclaimer! 

This is based on information within Breath of the Wild/Age of Calamity (mostly Age of Calamity). While this will be based on events in Age of Calamity/BOTW, these events will only be scenario-based and loosely related to the actual plots in the games.

◈━◈ 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘬'𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 ◈━◈

The hotheaded caption of the Hylian army, who’s always ready for battle! ...but never for casual conversation. Though romance doesn’t exactly fit within their skillset, their passion is as powerful as the final blow to a raging Lynel. It’s guaranteed that no harm will ever come to whoever they have their sights set on, and rest assured every day will be nothing short of an adventure; heart-pounding tests for the soul. Every day shall be lived like it’s the last! 

☀𖼜 𝚉𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊'𝚜 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𖼜☀

The patient, empathetic, and hard-working personal servant of Hyrule’s beloved Princess. Their sole purpose is to serve Zelda’s every domestic need down to the letter, and they’re certainly more than happy to do so. Their admiration for her true self goes even beyond the average citizen’s, so nothing will ever keep them away from being by her side. It’s the least they can do after what happened all those years ago...

✿◉●•𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫◦•●◉✿

No one special, just a shy, humble salesperson...who wants nothing more than to help with the fight against Calamity Ganon. Ever since disaster struck their village, they’ve held a raging urge to push back against those forces of evil and avenge those once close to them. Although, they have almost no skill and the courage of a frail twig... and no one’s a better trainer than one of Princess Zelda’s beautiful bodyguards. 

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕟𝕖𝕣.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

A traveling Zoran healer who follows in their princess’ footsteps. Though they were not born with any healing abilities like dear Mipha, the grace she blessed upon them while they were kids was enough to inspire their fate. And after her tragic outcome within Vah Ruta, they wish to carry out a similar grace and kindness she had possessed across Hyrule. And who would have thought a certain upbeat prince would catch a heavy sight of such a simple deed...

★⋆✰𝓡𝑒𝓋𝒶𝓁𝒾'𝓈 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓇 ✰⋆★

Out of every tribe within Hyrule, there is always a special group of those who have the courage to go out and explore every inch of its wonders. This, of course, includes the Rito, having one traveler who is always happy to take in Hyrule’s beauty from amongst the clouds. Staying in one place and mingling with the other townsfolk was never their specialty, so, bow in wing, they set out on an adventure that changed their life...for better, or for worse. 

꧁༺ Mipha's Partner ༻꧂

Level-headed, hushed, and still - their entire existence has already been defined before they were put into this world. Purpose, however, has not been granted so generously, for it is earned, and if something so invisible is to be given purpose, they must put their life on the line for the sake of their tribe - especially if it’s for Princess Mipha. When her sake is in question, the honor of protecting her life is done unquestionably. King Dorephan has much faith in her skills, but a father’s worry for his child’s safety is a stubborn force. This spy is distant; their life unknown to most, especially to their dear Princess...but then again, everyone knows she is smart as she is kind. 

[midnightsun-if]

I know the Delphine wave has finally reached the shore but I have to ask because the jealousy ask got me curious. Was she any different in Arlatha? When it came to that sort of thing?

Daenera is different than Delphine, correct. Due to the mindset she was in at the time, the years of conditioning herself to certain things, and a variety of other things. It’d be very unlikely for her to have gotten into a romantic relationship or even been swayed by those types of feelings due to fighting in the war, but if she was (for this asks sake)?

She’d be generally as she is now— wanting to discuss the issue with her SO and get to the bottom of it, but her initial reaction would be a bit (or a lot) more aggressive…

A slender, yet still toned, arm wraps around your waist, halting your concentration on the topic at hand, as a familiar presence settles next to you. The individual you’re conversing with eyes widen to an almost comical degree, words failing to leave their typically chattering mouth.

Finally they give a low bow, keeping their gaze firmly on the forest floor.

“M-My Lady.”

Daenera’s smile looks positively lethal, glinting sharply underneath the moonlight. “It’s quite rude to try and take something that isn’t yours, is it not?” While posed as a question, with an almost airy quality to her tone, everyone present knows it’s the furthest thing from one. “Do remember what happens to the thieves around here, and my general distaste for them. Understood?”

They nod, almost frantically. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Dismissed.”

[herearedragons]

More Kyana moments (and general thoughts) from Broken Circle and the resolution of Connor's quest:

You don't really get to hang out with your companions in the Fade during Lost In Dreams (they just disappear one you free them), but I think it'd be fun if there was one final stretch of the Fade the party had to brave together. You know, as a bonding experience.

Speaking of bonding experiences: the 'saving your companions from their nightmares' sequence is pretty intense for Kyana. She's barely keeping it together herself, but she still makes it her priority to get the others out. She's not exactly graceful about it, she's grabbing them by the shoulders and yelling at them that this isn't real, but her intensity is what makes them listen. It's a moment of sincerity that shows she really does care, and it's important for Wynne and Alistair, who know her well at this point, but it's probably wild for Zevran, who, again, has known her for two days. If giving him a pair of gloves to replace his ruined ones was a big deal, I can't imagine what goes through his head as the same person fights literal demons for his sake.

After the Fade sequence, there was the encounter with Cullen, which I didn't expect to be meaningful in any way, but... it kind of was? First of all, I'm pretty sure he only ever had a crush on Kyana because he never directly interacted with her. That's literally the only possible explanation. Kyana herself probably would have had... some sort of reaction to finding this out under any other circumstances, but there's just too much other stuff going on for her to care. Weirdly, though, I think this is the first and last moment when she's able to sympathize with Cullen. She just made it out of another demon's prison, and she almost lost it in there. She looks at Cullen and knows that this could have been her. She's not taking his ravings seriously, though.

I know that most of Kyana's and Irving's close relationship exists in my headcanon, but still, saving him and hearing him immediately go "Wynne, so that was your doing" was... interesting. I decided that I'm not retconning it, that's exactly what happens. Irving barely says anything to Kyana, except for saying that it's good she was there, and... it makes sense. She's no longer his project, he's no longer invested in her as a student, and if he still has any lingering attachment to her, he's not showing it. And I thought that maybe she'd show some vulnerability and be glad to see him, or she'd be angry at him, but she's just surprised and kind of numb at barely being acknowledged. She's been through literal hell and that's all she gets. Irving doesn't even ask if she's alright, not even after everything is over, just goes straight to business, discussing the treaties.

You know who does ask how she is? Wynne. You know who does show her some actual compassion? WYNNE. Part of it is definitely the fact that Wynne was in Ostagar and in the Fade with Kyana, and thus has a better idea of what she's been through, but also, she's just nicer than Irving, I guess. And in the first conversation Kyana has with her after they leave the Tower, Wynne: a) supports her decision to help Jowan escape, b) says that the Circle is proud of her for coming back to help. Not only is she praising Kyana, but she's praising her choices instead of her skills. That means a lot, and Kyana's voice probably gets a little choked up when she replies to Wynne, and she doesn't understand why. Their relationship just became a lot more meaningful and I am here for it.

Connor's exorcism went pretty smoothly, all things considered. I used persuasion to make the demon leave without a fight, because in my mind, Desire just sees this mage who just tore apart another demon's domain, harrowed and changed by the experience but absolutely ready to throw down again, and decides that the boy just isn't worth it.

The fun thing is, I saw the option to extort the demon for an extra skill point and I really wanted it. So I did it. That does not line up with Kyana's previous characterization, but I think it does fit into the narrative of her being different now. Pre-Fade imprisonment Kyana would never accept anything from a demon, but.. maybe she's just not that afraid of demons anymore. She still thinks that blood magic is a bad idea, but maybe being stranded in the Fade with a bunch of demons and single-handedly killing all of them left her kind of desensitized, and also absolutely terrifying to other demons, who can probably still smell Sloth's (and its lackeys') guts on her. So she sees Desire trying to politely excuse itself and goes "oh, you want to leave? sure, what will you give me?". It's their turn to be afraid and make deals for their freedom.

[erstwhles]

“ it was my fault. it was all my fault. ” from juliet to henrik (i'm sure he'll be normal about this doubtful)

it's about the comfort!

"I don't know, Your Majesty. Have you spoken to your wife today? Perhaps she would have the answer you are looking for." Rosalind doesn't look up from her plate as she crosses the dining room where the king is finishing his breakfast alone. Nowadays, he seems to be doing most things alone, and as a result, the tension in the castle has yet to be resolved.

Henrik brushes his hands together above his empty plate, an unimpressed frown decorating his expression. "It isn't any of your concern, Your Grace. And I would ask you to watch your words," he says, but with all of the history behind them, the only threat he can make is an empty one. It is also quite obvious that he is severely outnumbered in any area where he and his wife are on opposite sides. "And to whom it concerns, I spoke with her this morning."

By now, Rosalind is halfway to the doorway that leads into the corridor, but Henrik's words are enough to cause her to freeze and turn. "About more than her schedule and what meetings she is to cover today?" There is barely a pause before she continues, but only because anyone currently residing in the castle could likely answer that question without hesitation. "When will this end, Henrik? Who are you angry with? I will not be the... carrier between you. Clean up your own mess."

"For heaven's sake--you don't think I have tried?" Henrik's words hang in the air for a moment, but it feels much longer as Rosalind allows him to stew in the uncomfortable quiet, giving only a shrug in acknowledgment.

"I am starting to think..." He continues, shifting in his seat, "that I can't. That we can't. Every time we do, we... argue. Or sit in silence." Silence as comfortable as the one currently filling in the space between him and his highest advisor.

Though the long dining table separates them, Rosalind glances down at her plate, to where the spiral of the sliced croissant is still steaming. In a moment filled with a truly self-serving fantasy, she wonders what the chances would be of throwing it in a perfect arc across the room so it would come in contact with Henrik. Too far, probably. "Have you considered..." Her eyes meet his, finally, and Henrik feels a bit of relief relax his shoulders "Having a third party in the room? Not me--God no, but... someone to keep you accountable? Because if you really hope to fix anything, I agree. Your time is running out. She has been plenty patient." Again, barely any time is offered to consider the sentiment before she turns and continues through the tall doorway.

--

"No, stay." A deep breath slips from his lips in a stream as his assistant pauses midstep after being addressed. Though his eyes widen, he gives the king a nod before stepping off to the side, remaining just in the corner of his eye. From there, Henrik's focus lands immediately on Juliet. "...can we talk?"

It is more of the same silence that fills much of the conversation. It's hard, he realizes. And of anything about his job, this wasn't supposed to be the difficult part. This was supposed to be the one thing he was sure about. When did that change?

For a while, it feels like that invisible wall between them is just as impermeable as it has been since Juliet first shared the news that managed to provide this great divide in the first place, but then her confession slips out, and Henrik pauses. "What do you mean?" A deep sigh leaves him and he doesn't even notice as his assistant slips from the room, leaving the door ajar so as to not disrupt the couple's conversation. "How could it have been?" They have been talking about this for so long that he could almost forget how it all got out of hand. "It wasn't your fault. It... it has been a long road, but none of that was your fault."

[wintervsuns]

♞

such was the reality when there was fracture between stark and karstark; those, even not present in the room or the situation to begin with, find themselves dragged into it by the startling realisation of great change. brandon did not consider himself any mightier than the other great lords of the north, his roots remaining humble regardless of the power he found himself having. there was much power in being hand of the king, but greater power still when it was a man that was trusted; beyond all reasonable measures and scope.

"probably not, princess." he responded, his harsher accent wrapping around each of his words still: the karhold accent was thicker and rougher sounding than the other parts of the country. that, added to his towering nature and his strength, painted a picture of brandon karstark that was not entirely true. he would not involve himself in matters of dark magic for the sake of the starks...not again. 'you may want to start with the court widsom." the men who replaced maesters in owen stark's north.

even in the feeling of being blindsided and betrayed, cast aside like dust to the wind, he understood entirely that it was not the responsibility of the princess that stood before him. families needed to stand side by side, and despite the ongoing conflict and tension that came in the new chapter of their family's long association, there was not a part of him that thought to somehow take it out on the woman who stood before him.

and yet, that did not mean he would find himself doing more than what was expected: it his the hope of every family that their king finds a trusted companion, one who would sacrifice his own life to save the other, one who sought for the stability of the realm rather than his own personal advancement. and still, brandon did not consider that the princess may be feeling a sense of worry or apprehension regarding the power vacuum that has been left in brandon's absence: he only continued to stand before her.

at the mention of there being something he was holding back, his dark grey gaze flickered upward to meet her own eyes. there was indeed something he was holding back, something of far greater detail; and yet, he chose to keep it firmly to himself rather than disclose any further information about what happened that night. it was unlike him to do, and yet, with the new walls that had been built up and circled him, he knew it was for the best.

he would not disclose what he had found alysanne doing one night, for the last thing he would have, is one thread of responsibility being linked to karstark and karhold alike.

there was no reaction to words of trust, apart from a nod of his head, and his hands remaining clasped together before his own furs. he did not know whether or not she should trust him - it felt as though, for the first time in a long time, he did not know what his purpose was. he did not know if he could even trust himself. "was already at the door, princess." he responded, again, his words almost brushing off the small words of sentiment that no doubt seemed to come from the princess. she was the picture of grace, of the blue rose of the north: it was only expected.

his mind remained on her reluctance to tell owen. gods knew he would be furious when finally informed, for not knowing the entirety of the facts. a part of him wished to open his mouth and remind her again, of the importance of the king knowing the full picture. but he did not. instead, his bowed his head slightly, before raising to his full height. "i'm due to be spendin' the next month at my seat." almost as though to tell her, he no longer wanted to be involved in this conversation. in this subject. not when he was home. home was sacred.

how he longed to see the green lights dance over the sky, and watch the sun do it's dance once again. how it mad everything feel as though nothing at all had changed. "may you get the answers you be seekin." he waited for her to dismiss him.

a stab of guilt twisted at dacey’s gut when she looked at him. he was already a man burdened - you did not have to possess any great level of empathy to take note of that, and here she was, bringing more struggles to his door. she should have left him alone, should have found another source for the answers she sought.

but then, would anybody else be able to grant them? who else, if not brandon karstark? not for the first time, worry sparked in her, an uncertainty of what they would do without him when his presence in the stark’s lives had been so constant for so long, but that was something to turn over later, when she was alone without the distraction of standing in front of him.

they were speaking as plainly as dacey knew how, but there was still so much that wasn’t said - by her, and certainly by brandon. they were avoiding the inevitable conversation. she wasn’t sure if that would ever be addressed between them, if it was even her place to. it was an unscalable wall, and she wasn’t mentally prepared to climb it. she would not be the one to reopen wounds that had not yet begun to heal.

“no.” she agreed. “not in the way my sister was.” but there was a fundamental difference between alysanne and dacey. where the elder of the two invited such things, dacey was seeking to put an end to it. to rid winterfell of everything dark and dangerous, and hope that was enough. she didn’t know much, but she could not rid herself of the suspicion that doing so would not be the simple task he was posing it as.

she took a breath, small, but audible, as though steeling herself to say something she didn’t want to. “but i do want to be rid of all the things she’s left behind. i don’t think that will be so simple as casting them upon the fire.” she looked at him, half a moment away from begging him to tell her that she was wrong.

it wasn’t in dacey’s nature to lead the charge when trouble presented itself. she could scarcely remember the last time she had been involved in matters of the kingdom, save for her quiet, steadfast support. but times were changing, and she was tired. too much had been lost, and the eyes of those she would normally trust to handle things like this were either turned elsewhere or gone forever. and so, it fell to her, the wolf who had never found her howl nor bite.

she heard his warning, considered it, then nodded. “there’s something you’re holding back.” it was a statement of fact, devoid of confrontation, spoken with nothing but concern. “and i understand. i don’t expect…” she trailed off, mind racing to find the right words. “i trust you.” any bad blood between stark and karstark would not find root in dacey stark. perhaps it should have been easier for her to put distance between them, when more of it existed to begin with than with owen or alys or cassana, but that wasn’t so. “and i’m sorry. for bringing this to your door.”

[potter-imagines]

Best-friends to Lovers (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: can we get like... a lil fred weasley, you guys are good friends and you don’t usually go back for the holidays, and Fred invites you back to the Burrow to spend the break there and y’all like totally fall for each other 🥺

Warning: None (I switched it up just a tiny bit to where they’ve already developed some feelings but they finally admit them sooo hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 4.5k

It was a flurry and cold winter night, the kind of night when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. You despised the freezing temperature, but Fred was far too convincing and a midnight walk with him was something you couldn’t find the words to turn down.

For the first time in the five years you had spent at Hogwarts, and the five years you had been best friends, you had finally accepted the twins offer on spending Christmas at the Burrow with their family. It was a turn of events in your typical holiday plans which were mostly spent alone at the castle. Your first two years at school you had traveled home for Christmas. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly a ‘jolly’ time either. Family time came few and far between. The sparse time you did spend around your family had grown… awkward. Being the only witch in your family didn’t help much either. As the years dragged on, you felt like a stranger in your own home. Your parents spent their entire year with your younger brother, so he had undoubtedly grown to be the favorite and the prized child. They still loved you of course, it just felt forced to engage with them at times.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when you walked into the Weasley’s home and were engulfed in a warmth you had never known. Molly Weasley was the first to greet you, popping out from the staircase with a shimmering grin. Before you could register what was happening, she pulled you into a bone crunching grip rambling on about how good it was to meet you. Arthur hugged you as well and teased about how much the twins would talk about you, especially Fred. Fred would turn bashful but he didn’t deny it.

Ginny showed you around the house, beating Fred and George to the chance. Molly set up a mattress on the floor next to the youngest Weasley’s bed, something Ginny was over the moon thrilled about. She had been longing for a sleepover with you for years now. Ever since her first term, she followed you around like a little puppy. So your first night at the home, Ginny coerced you into a slumber party immediately.

The twins, mainly Fred, weren’t too happy at this. They were the ones who invited you yet their little sister was stealing all your time. Fred was bitter when you hurried off from dinner to go join Ginny upstairs, not even bidding him a farewell.

George insisted his twin was being dramatic- they had an entire month for Merlin's sake! The feelings his brother developed for you, their best friend, was clear as crystals to George. They both shared a crush on you for the first year at Hogwarts but George’s feelings quickly shifted to a friendship, sister love. Fred on the other hand, well his crush only evolved further. George noticed it the second Fred started combing his hair before dinner and always placing himself the closest towards you. It was a topic they danced around for quite some time. He teased his twin for years until the idea came to him that Fred still felt this way towards you even after years. George had devoted his previous two summers to breaking Fred into admission. All he wanted was to hear his twin confirm his suspicions. Not that he needed that really, other people were beginning to notice as well.

One of them being your temporary roommate. Ginny was a top notch observer. During her second year, she started to catch on to the elephant that followed you and Fred into every room.

That first night, Ginny shed light on her theory by offhandedly making a rather large claim late that first night. While the two of you were chatting softly in the dark, the young girl declared out of the blue,

“I think my brother is in love with you.”

In an instant, your whole body froze over like water on a lake. You were thankful for the dark, it kept Ginny from seeing your wide eyed stare of shock.

“What?”

It was now you could see her small frame adjusting in her bed. Even with the lack of light, you saw her sitting up on her bed, propping her weight on one elbow. It could be assumed she had a devilish smile as she probed on.

“Fred… pretty sure he’s in love with you.”

“Why, what makes you think that, Ginny?”

“Quite a laundry list of things, actually. First, he never shuts up about you. Second, he’s always trying to be around you. Third, he’s always staring at you… bit creepy. Fourth, he’s told our nanna about you! Lastly, and most obvious, I heard him telling George right before school started.”

Laying back down, you fixed your eyes on the ceiling taking in her words. Does your best friend really share the same feelings for you? It was too good to be true, it couldn’t be true, you thought. This kinda stuff only happened in the movies and your life definitely was not a film gracing the silver screen. The butterflies went rampant in your stomach, fluttering about wildly. For a moment, you had forgotten Ginny was there, or that you were in her room, until she spoke again.

“So, what do you think of him?” She asked innocently. Tugging the fluffy blue blanket closer to your chest you replied,

“Pardon?”

Ginny wasted no time and reached over to flicker the light switch on her bedside lamp. A bright light broke through the pitch black darkness of the bedroom. You groaned at the act but Ginny spoke over your sounds of protest.

“Are you in love with Fred?”

Running your hand over your face, you let out a sigh. It was getting too late to be thinking about such heavy topics. You had a great friendship with Ginny, you really did, but if you couldn’t even deal with these emotions on your own, you really didn’t want to throw your thoughts on her.

Turning over on the mattress, you rolled your eyes.

“Ginny, I’m not even dating Fred.”

“But you want to.” She confirmed stubbornly.

“I mean… I-I don’t know, Ginny. Can we talk about something else, please?” You wanted to hide under a blanket and avoid the question for all of eternity. She had caught you off guard and although the feelings you felt towards Fred were strong, it wasn’t something you felt ready to face yet. It wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend- there was so much risk, so much to lose if things went south. You settled on keeping Fred as a friend rather than gamble the option of rejection and a change in your relationship forever.

Ginny perked her brow, opened her mouth as if ready to rebuttal, then deciding against it. The corner of her tip twitched to a smirk as she replied,

“Hmm, okay.”

The topic was dropped for the rest of the night as Ginny went to bed shortly after, but it wasn’t completely over. From then on, you began noticing the constant little redhead attached to your coattails. You noticed each time Fred shooed his sister off and demanded she find something better to do. He was edging closer and closer to his point of eruption. This break was supposed to be time for him to spend alone with you and finally confess his feelings. Not Ginny being your shadow and George tagging along for every outing.

Now on your walk almost a week later, your mind hadn’t stopped wandering to that conversation. Ginny hadn’t brought it up again, at least not vocally. During breakfast the next morning after your talk while you're placed between Fred and George joking around with them, she’ll send you knowing looks, giggling to herself. Harry started to pick up on this as well and you noticed Ginny whispering to him afterwards. It didn’t help that Fred would take any opportunity he could to make you laugh and be in your presence.

Last night you found yourself sitting in front of the fireplace with George, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Fred. A steaming mug of hot cocoa was clutched in everyone’s hand. After about an hour of talking softly and sharing stories, Ginny, Ron and Harry decided to call it a night and trudged up the stairs together. You waved to them as they disappeared up the wooden steps, the sound off their feet turning quieter with every second.

As the three of you sat closely, it felt like you were back at Hogwarts in the common room. George was gushing about a Muggle film you had shown him earlier in the day and Fred was silently listening in, a small smile kissing his lips. You were sat at Fred’s side, your backs against the couch and his arm thrown casually around your shoulder. George was laid on the smaller couch across from the two of you, rambling on to himself. As his talking continued, Fred slowly worked to move your body closer to his and nearly in his lap. He did it so naturally you almost failed to notice. The loud, booming tone of George simmer out within minutes. His voice seemed to sooth him into a slumber as his harsh snores suddenly cut through the air, having talked himself to sleep. This caused the both of you to start laughing. Fred’s arm gripped you tighter as his body shook with chuckles. The sensation sent an odd shiver down your spine. It felt… nice, really really nice to be in his arms.

Fred wondered if now was the time. It was the first chance he had gotten alone with you for almost a week, so there was a good probability he wouldn’t get another for a while. He needed to make a move, something at least! Fred hated not having the bravery like the Gryffindor he was to fess up and spit out the words to describe how he felt about you. Closing his eyes, Fred took a deep breath then peeked his gaze open once more. The nerves had calmed and for the first time, he felt ready and he knew he had to act on it. But as he looked down at you, all the confidence had vanished with one glance. His throat dried as your eyes met and a faint precipitation budded in his palms. All the words he had been rehearsing for a year now simply slipped out the back door.

You took note of the ghost white paleness that took over and immediately sat up, removing yourself from his arms to ask,

“You alright, Freddie?” The concern dripped from your words as you examined the face of your best friend. His eyes were lowered, glued to the flickering flames of the crackling fire.

“Of course, love. I’m sorry, was just thinking.”

“Aw, Freddie, we talked about this. You know thinking is no good for you- you’re brain can’t handle it, darling!” Fred’s heart leaped at the adorning pet name. Only recently had you started calling him more loving names, and it drove him absolutely mad. No girl could ever get his heart racing with just one word like you could. He loved hearing such names coming from your mouth, and directed to him. There was only one name he would die to call you and that was his.

“Can I take you for a walk, love?” The request came abruptly, completely out of the blue. Your eyes widen at his question. Any other time you’d say yes without a second thought. Although, it was late and the land was not a territory you were familiar with like Hogwarts.

Your eyes fell on the window behind the couch. Large white snowflakes swirled from the sky and coated the grounds. The heavy black winter jacket you packed was hung up neatly by the door, not having been touched for at least a day.

Turning your attention back to Fred, you realized his eyes were already trained on your face. At your glance, a hopefully smile reached his cheeks.

“It’s nearly midnight I… actually, why not? Sure. But if we run into any wolves, I’m sacrificing you to them, Weasley.” He laughed at your response and quickly jumped up. You set your hands to your side, readying yourself to stand when suddenly, Fred’s large hands attached to your sides and lifted you up to your feet. You stumbled trying to gain balance but once again, Fred was right there to help you.

Unexpectedly, his left hand extended out and intertwined his fingers in yours. Just as you had predicted, his touch was warm, addicting in a way. It set off a pool of security and protection. Instead of fearing what may lie in the open land outside his house, you trusted Fred.

The tall boy walked you towards the door and pulled your long coat from the hook then threw it around your body. You slipped your arms into the fuzzy material as he yanked his heavy jacket on. Watching the never ending snowfall outside, you worked your hands into the black mittens you had stored in the coat pockets. You hoped it wasn’t as bone chilling outside as it looked.

“Here, I think you might need this, love. You can use my scarf too if you’d like. Don’t want you freezing to death, that’d be hard to explain to George and the rest of our friends.” Fred placed an extra winter hat of his on top of your head. Heat slapped your cheeks at his movements. Fred was commonly sweet towards you but lately, he had been extra sweet. Small gestures here and there were adding up and raising a bit of questions in your mind.

You knocked Fred jokingly on the shoulder and remarked,

“Reckon they’ll send you to Azkaban for that one. I’m a saint, everyone loves me, Fred.” You teased him playfully before accepting his offer with a thank you. Instead of handing you the maroon and gold striped scarf, Fred leaned forward and wrapped it snug around your neck. Once finished, his fingertip tapped against the tip of your nose, grinning to himself.

“You’re not wrong about that. We should get going though. The killer trolls will rise from the ground soon!”

“Knock it off!” You scolded him in a hushed tone, careful not to wake his sleeping family as you chased out of the house after him. Running down the steps, you saw Fred waiting near the car for you. There was an open path behind the car, a makeshift road but the kids used it for a walking guide.

He motioned you over waving exaggeratedly.

“C’mon, darling! You’re taking forever.” Fred moaned on dramatically as he waited for you to catch up to him.  

“It’s freezing out here, be patient.” You waddled over to his side and stood close to his frame, egar for warmth. Fred took in your shaking body and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tugged you towards his side.

Snowflakes landed on your eyelashes, conflicting your view. Despite the coldness of the winter air, the landscape was beautiful. There were miles and miles of open plains on all ends of the Burrow. In a way, they were isolated, but the atmosphere was live with activity. It was impossible to be bored when the Weasley siblings were around. There was so much to do, in an exploring sense. You had never felt so free, so open before. It was refreshing to spend time at Weasley's home. As the two of you walked together in the crunchy snow, Fred pointed to a large field, a makeshift pitch if you had to guess.

“Charlie and Bill taught George and I how to play Quidditch over there the summer after our first year. Percy hated playing with us! We’d all gang up on him- even if he was on our team- and try to knock him off his broom. I don’t think he’s played with us since! You would’ve died of laughter seeing how angry he got.” You watched as Fred’s features scrunched in laughed at the memory. His contagious chuckles infected you as you laughed along. It was a recollection you could imagine perfectly, even if you weren’t there. Percy was an easy target but he had done it to himself so there wasn’t much room for blame.

Shrugging your shoulders you said,

“I would say poor Percy but he turned me in for being out past curfew so, I’m proud of you, Fred.”

“Sounds like him, just try being related to him. He runs to our parents for everything! Every. Little. Thing. It’s infuriating.” Your cheeks began to sting from smiling so much, but when you were around Fred, it was a given. He had an affect on you that no one else seemed to earn. Even when you were on the brim of tears, Fred always found a way to bring a grin to your face.

But still, you thought about Ginny’s words and the change in Fred throughout your years as friends. Nights were lost tossing and turning over the thought of that prankster redhead who had occupied all your notions.

Lifting your hand up slightly, you grabbed for Fred’s gloved hand. He gladly accepted your gesture and squeezed on your hand as you continued to walk further from the home. Fred’s attention soon dropped as his consciousness drifted once again. Pursing your lips you drew him out.

“Freddie, what’s on your mind? You’ve been different since we got here. I mean, it’s not a bad different. It’s just… something is different with you and you’re my best friend so I wanna know.”

Fred’s eyes snapped up at your concerning voice and the startled expression met yours. This was definitely not a common act for Fred. Your mind raced at the possibility of what it could be but luckily, Fred didn’t make you wait long for an answer.

His pace slowed, but his feet still dragged in the powdered flakes holding your hand. You wanted to hear him speak so bad although you respected the time he needed and waited in silence as you continued to walk. It didn’t take long for Fred to shatter the thin air,

“Can I ask you a serious question? Like one that could change everything.”

“You can ask me anything, Fred. You know this. It won’t change a thing.” You replied seriously. Fred could hear the truthfulness in your words and it calmed him, only a little though. The looming fear, and reality, of rejection was becoming all too real. Even worse than rejection, Fred had a feeling if he didn’t take his chance now, he might never have the opportunity again.

“Do you see me only as a best friend?” The nervousness in his voice broke the peace of the air. Your feet halted at the cavalier inquest. Fred had asked quite the offhand questions before but this, this was new. Mentally attempting to connect the pieces, you tilted your head in confusion.

“Freddie…” The mummer was faint, almost failing to register from your lips. The Burrow was still in near distance and the moonlight provided enough light to search Fred’s face. You weren’t sure what to make of the inquiry exactly, but your heart race excelled in anticipation.

Fred Weasley shifted in the crystalline snow. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and his legs bounced in his stance. You knew him well enough to see the contemplation written across his features.

“Y/n I really really like you. I promise this isn’t a joke or some prank. If you don’t feel the same I can find a way to accept it but I don’t wanna lose you in my life. I just can’t hold it in anymore. It’s been five years of tortue now and… I just needed to get it out, love. I think I might be falling in love with you- if I haven’t already.” As Fred poured his heart out openly, the dripping snowfall ceased all together. It was magically in a sense. The loud slush was now quiet, almost like drizzling rain. His gingerbread eyes were studied upon you, waiting for any sort of reaction to surface. You just gazed up at him scavenging for the perfect words to spill your emotions.

“You’ve liked me for five years?” You asked, stunned. That was impossible. All this time you had spent crushing on Fred and admiring him, stuck in the friendzone, you could’ve just talked to him and been honest. Fred’s eyes darted back to his house then to you anxiously.

“Yeah. I’ve just been too scared to tell you. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship, that’s the last thing I could take.”

Your heart dropped at his words. It was funny in a way, he had the same fears as you. In the same way, you felt guilty for putting him through the same torture you had been going through the last few years as well.

With a surge of confidence, you snapped your head up to Fred and quickly remarked,

“Will it ruin our friendship if I think I’m in love with you too?”

The stillness in the air was unreadable at first. Your gazes trained intently on each other. The uplift gleamed in Fred when he took in your words. All his fears went away like the swish of a wand.

Half out of adrenaline, the other half out of want for years of desire, Fred took one step forward and closed the small gap of space between the two of you by pressing his lips tightly against yours. His hands rested on your face, and the small of your back to keep you steady. This you were thankful for this as his quick actions took you by shock nearly knocking you off your feet.

Your left hand drew up to his hair, finding a tight grip in his shoulder length locks, something you’d been dreaming about doing. The kiss intensified as you indulged in the lock and pressed closer to Fred. Your mouths moved together as if snogging was naturally with you two.

Your lungs demanded air after a few minutes and you slowly pulled away from Fred’s lips and leaned away to regain your composure. You could hear Fred panting at your side, also processing what just took place. Your hands never left each other’s and he suddenly squeezed yours to earn your attention. A genuine look crosses Fred’s face as he whispered into the cold air,

“Can I ask you to be my girlfriend now or do you want me to woo you over on a date first?” His sweet words nearly melted your heart. As easy as you were to please when it came to Fred, this heartwarming exchange felt like the perfect night to declare as a first outing.

“I think I’ll count this as our first date, it was quite romantic.”

Fred rolled his eyes with a smirk. It made him happy that you weren’t demanding or the snotty type. He loved that the small things made you glow with happiness. Even with this, he was still mentally planning a date to take you on before break ended. Although you still had yet to answer his big question.

“So does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You had to swallow back a laugh as you realized you never officially answered Fred. Despite your kiss, he still looked worried you’d turn him away. Shaking your head with a smile you replied,

“Yes, I won’t make you beg anymore.”

Fred wasted no time snatching you by the waste and giving you a small twirl around the snow. A yelp sounded from your lips and you hoped it wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone sleeping at the Burrow. Fred chuckled at your protests and placed you down delicately. Placing his hands on either side of your face, the joyful Gryffindor snogged you lightly, but his passion still seeped through.

“Merlin’s beard, can’t believe it took my stupid arse five years to ask you out. I could’ve been kissing you years ago!”

“Guess we were both missing out. Feel dim for thinking I was going to ruin everything between us if I told you how I felt. But I’m so happy, Freddie.”

“Here, darling,” His gloved hand jerk back to the house, “We oughta head back, now. Mum will kill me if she finds out we were out this late! She thinks you’re an angel so you’ll be fine but I’ll be six feet under by dawn. I can’t wait for morning, though. I can finally brag to everyone that you’re mine, love.” His lips pressed against yours again, desperate to relive the spark and it did not disappoint. Kissing Fred felt natural, like you melted into the embrace. Your lips molded in sync, matching up like magnets. His tongue drew a line across your bottom lips as he kissed you deeper.

Coming back to earth you detached from Fred with a light ‘smack’ noise. Neither of you could wipe the childlike grins off your faces. His plump cheeks turned crimson in the night. Unable to shake off the excitement of the night’s events, you leaned into Fred’s body, giving him a tight hug. He returned the embrace instantly and left a long kiss to the top of your head.

Leaning away, you planted one last kiss to Fred’s cheek then held his hand as you two walked towards his home. The light at the top of the Burrow, assumingly Fred and George's room was turned on. Brightness shone from the window and you pointed up at the sight. The house was only feet away and you started to wonder what George would think of the news.

It could be assumed he wouldn’t be shocked. George spent the last year making comments to you here and there, prying in on you and Fred. Ginny of course wouldn’t be too blown away either, but what about Ron and Harry?

Fred already knew what their reactions would be. He knew without a doubt all of your friends would be thrilled, but no one would be too taken aback by your new relationship. It seemed the only two students who were oblivious to your shared feelings, were Fred and yourself.

“You think they’ll be surprised to hear we’re dating?” You wondered out loud. Fred swung your hand in a back and forth motion as you approached the front porch of the house. Your question obtained a chuckle from Fred as he shook his head,

“Not one bit, love.”

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff

chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven

author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!

Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.

So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.

We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.

"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."

"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.

I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."

She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."

I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.

"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes. 

"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.

She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.

We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.

As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.

I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."

She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."

I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."

She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."

My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.

After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.

We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.

"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.

"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.

Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.

"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."

I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.

"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."

"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.

"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."

There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.

"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."

Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.

"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."

He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."

"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."

Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."

"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.

Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.

"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.

"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"

"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."

I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."

Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.

"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."

I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.

"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.

I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.

She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."

I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."

She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.

"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."

She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."

Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.

"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.

Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

—

Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.

To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.

I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.

We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?

I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.

So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.

"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"

She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.

Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.

Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.

"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."

"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."

He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.

"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"

Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.

"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."

She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"

I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.

"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."

Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.

When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.

"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."

She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."

Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.

"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.

"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."

She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.

"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."

She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."

"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"

Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.

"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."

My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.

"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."

She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."

I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.

"You did good, love."

She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."

"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."

She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."

Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.

The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.

Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.

"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.

"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"

That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.

Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.

And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.

—

"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.

She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.

"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.

"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.

She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.

"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."

I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."

She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"

I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.

"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"

She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."

"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."

I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."

I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.

"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.

My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."

She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.

"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.

As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."

She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."

"Huh. Sure you don't."

Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."

I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."

She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."

I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.

"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."

She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"

I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.

Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.

As always, she took my breath away.

"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.

I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.

"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."

She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.

I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."

Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.

"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.

I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"

She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.

Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."

She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.

She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.

"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.

"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."

She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.

I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || HIS LITTLE SONGBIRD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna ft. itadori yuji and fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and light mention of alcohol  

| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)

| word count : 2411

| published : 02 december

| request : I just finished reading Sukuna with so who good at singing and I love it❤️ After reading this, it makes me think of another possibility for reincarnation au. What if the so got reincarnated but instead of Sukuna actually met them in person, he found out that the so is now a famous singer, so their songs can be heard all over japan. Itadori went a store and their song was played which Sukuna realized it was his little song bird’s voice

| barista’s notes : hi hi guys~ sorry for the really late update today and that is because i fell asleep the second i got back home from school ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ classic barista violettelueur and what makes it lowkey worst is that it’s 2:20 am right now.....for a little information that might be helpful while reading this, i was listen to BLACKPINK - Don’t know what to do (JP Ver.) while writing this, so that is going to get a little mention on this imagine ʕ·ᴥ·　ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) have a wonderday day and please come back soon!

The sounds of the strings being plucked to construct a beautiful melody filled the spring air with its euphoric sound as the pale pink cherry blossom petals graceful fell from its branches giving a beautiful sight to behold, while the crowds of men in the garden celebrated with red sake plates in hand that was filled to the brim with the sweet alcohol that was being consumed in a rapid rate.

However, as much as the King of Curses wanted to disrupt the little gather for his own sadistic pleasure, the melody that was playing in the air captivated him to pause his wicked thoughts and desires and demanded him to appreciate the music the was being created by the lone female that was at the centre of the ocean of men - who were laughing drunkenly while some observed her from afar.

The lone female on her knees, while her eyes were set on the musical tool that was set in front of her, was delicately but masterfully plucking the thin transparent stings to create a tune that no other person within the gardens could recreate - not even the other talented musicians that were also present within the large garden. Eyeing the beauty that was charming almost everyone within her presence, the King of Curses slyly came closer (but out of sight) to gain a closer look at what was going on.

“Who is she?”

“She’s the only daughter from the prominent L/N family, they’re are known for their musical talents and from the rumours, that is certainly no lie,”

“Is she married? I can imagine having her playing for me every day with that beautiful melody,”

However, before one of the males of court nobility could even answer the question, an elegant but powerful voice echoed throughout the garden causing everyone to swiftly turn to the direction of the angelic voice, only to suddenly find that it was that lone female in the middle of the garden singing with the alluring tone that she had created herself - leaving everyone in a trance to the grace that was beautifully presented to them.

“I need to make her my wife,”

“I’m afraid that is easier said than done, my lord. From what has been going around, she has refused all of the men that have proposed their hand in marriage, there isn’t a reason that is known for this that can answer everyone’s confusion,”

“What do I need to give her? Money! Power! I have plenty of that,”

“She has rejected all of the noblemen that have come her way, no riches could ever convince her and I’m surprised that her family also agree to her antics”

Listening from a distance, Sukuna couldn’t help but become intrigued by what was being said. Many women in this time would have jumped on the chance to marry someone from a higher status let alone be married off quickly, yet here you were singing and playing like you have all the time in the world with no worries or fears that could distract you. You were at peace, while he was the destruction.

Somewhat still in a trace, it was suddenly cut off once the final string was pulled causing there to be absolute silence to fill the space leaving only the wind to cover the lack of sound before a loud parade of claps were heard as the emperor - who hosted the party - stood up with pride written all over his face. Standing up from your position, you have a light smile before bowing to show your gratitude to being allowed to play in such a prestigious event as you then made your way to the other musicians to pass them on for the next performance.

“Y/N! That was amazing, you never disappoint,”

“I have no idea what you saying, I messed up on the second to last note when I hit the wrong string, ha what am I doing to do? That is going to extremely bother me for the time being,”

“Stop being such a perfectionist! None of the sorcerers, noblemen and emperor knows that, so you’re fine,”

“Thank you and shouldn’t you really go, is it not your turn?”

“Oh! My apologies, I’ll meet up with you later,”

With your friend running off to continue with musical performance, you stood in your spot as you watched her go further into the distance leaving you to soak in the sunray that was gently providing a warm glow to your complexion as the deep purple of your kimono also brightened up leaving it somewhat of a lavender shade. Taking a deep sigh, you looking up to admire the cherry blossoms that were in bloom, only to see a figure settled on one of the branches with his ruby eyes set upon you, even though the man was hidden very skilfully within the plethora of petals you could sense him from a while away, but before you could even voice out your confusion.

“Ah, there she is! Miss L/N,”

Displaying a face of irritation on the rude disturbance - leaving Sukuna to display a face of amusement instead - you turned around to find two men standing in front of you with one that seemed to be of younger age compared to his counterpart making you come to the realisation that it was a son and father - leaving you to mentally groan in annoyance as you instantly knew where this little conversation was going.

“I want you to met my son, he is -”

“I’m sorry, but I am not interested in his hand in marriage nor his companionship” you immediately interrupted the noblemen, causing both of the men to look at you in complete shock as they didn’t expect you to figure out their intentions so soon after only a few words exchanged.

“But my dear, this is an amazing opportunity for you to-”

“Become someone with a higher nobility? Don’t make me laugh, I rather become a peasant then spend the eternity of my life bound to you,”

“What is it that you desire for your hand? Wealth? Power? Prestige? You name what you desire and we will provide!”

“I’m afraid that what I desire is impossible for you to provide me, my apologies”

“What is it that you want, woman?! Who doesn’t want what I can give you within an instinct?” the son soon erupted in anger at this rejection, still in utter confusion on why you were so adamant on not wanting to wed him.

“Entertainment? Can you provide that? You see, you noblemen always offer what you have already stated to me and that may sound very enticing to another but, you all are so boring,”

The two noblemen looked at you with astoundment in their eyes as well as Sukuna, who was cunningly listening from above on where you found him - the King of Curses didn’t want to confess this to himself but he was confused on what you trying to demonstrate here with you little speech.

“You are so so boring, you men expect me to play and sing for you every single day like a bird in a cage, yet I get no entertainment in return from you? Isn’t that quite unfair? You have no talent yet you want to be greedy, what ridiculous idea is that? It’s almost laughable in my opinion,”

Sukuna almost burst out laughing from what you artfully expressed to the two men that were in front of you as he also could relate to what you were saying. The sorcerers that he had fought and killed with his bare hands were all boring with no hint of excitement from any of the battles he had faced and here you were expressing the same distaste - they were boring. All of them.

‘Well, well little songbird, I got your attention, now you have mine,’

                                        ꕥ

“Sukuna?” you called out in a hushed surprised tone, as you unexpectedly found him sitting comfortably on the wooden corridor outside your room. Even since that little encounter back at the garden party, you have been seeing the special grade curse looming about here and there within your personal space, causing you to one day to finally acknowledge his presence that was constantly around you, only leading up where you both were now.

The excitement of these secret meetings that you both had late at night was the entertainment that you were looking for. The excitement of being so secretive with the man you desired to love but couldn’t to the outer world was the entertainment that no nobleman would ever provide you. It was the fact that this romantic link between you and Sukuna was forbidden that excited the both of you. This was the entertainment that you both desire.

“Hello, my little songbird,” Sukuna greeted you with a smirk before gently grabbing your hand to pull you down to his height - well more rather below his height - to meet eye to eye with you. “Didn’t you miss me?” he then teasingly asked, causing you to look away in a bashful expression because you knew that he knew what your answer was going to be. However, pushing your pride aside, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace which then led him to place a hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place as he savoured the warmth that you were providing him.

“Where have you been? I was worried,” you stated to him, and even though it was a laughable comment to him since what was the point in worrying about him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the foreign concern that you had for him - it truly warmed his heart that you were here with him. “I was busy, now why don’t you sing for me, my little songbird, I do miss the sound of your sweet voice,” he declared to you before placing a few light open mouth kisses on your neck leading you to let out a soft moan of pleasure which seemed to put a smile on the curse’s face.

“What would you like for me to sing to you then?” You asked as you used your hand to gently run your hand through his hair which caused Sukuna to become relaxed and lower his guard within your embrace - the only time he allowed himself to do so and the only person that was allowed to see him in this state.

“Anything. Anything that you sing for me is enough”

To be held in your arms was what Sukuna always wanted and desired every day of his life, to hear your voice was something that made him forget about the world just like back at the garden party and the elegance that you embodied while playing the Koto was something he could never get out of his mind. You were his safe haven. His little songbird. However, that was 1000 years ago.

                                          ꕥ

Residing within his vessel, Sukuna began to wonder what could have caused him to start to reminisce about the past when clearly he couldn’t do anything to bring you back with him. You were gone. You have passed. There was nothing he could do even as a powerful curse himself to bring your back onto his arms and let you sing to him.

However, what could make do for now was the song that was annoyingly playing within the music store that his vessel - Itadori Yuji - decided to visit as it seemed like he was interested in what was new with his friend Fushiguro Megumi. Slowly, the King of Curses could hear the music beginning to fade, indicating that it was the end of it before another quickly began to play to replace the ending song.

Unlike the other song, this one was softer in tune with something being strummed in the background - just like how you would strum the strings of the Koto when he would ask you to play it for him to admire - to which was then sung on top with a female voice. Disinterested, Sukuna began to dissociate himself with the song that was now playing until another voice came in with the song, suddenly leaving him in a trance like the one he was back 1000 years ago at that garden party.

Sitting up from his position, he intensively listened closer making sure that his ears didn’t deceive him from what he thought he heard.

“Oi brat! Who is singing that song?”

“Ha? What do you want now?” his vessel replied, surprised and annoyed at the sudden appearance of the curse that was inside him. 

“What does Sukuna want now?” Fushiguro asked, slightly worried about what was happening and what could happen at this moment and time since they were in a public place filled with people.

“Answer the question before I rip your heart out again,” Sukuna threatened, slowing becoming impatient and desperate for an answer leaving Itadori no choice but for once cooperate with the special grade curse.

“From what I believe, it’s a group song called ‘Don’t know what to do’, I believe there are five girls within that group,” Itadori explained before he quickly stopped within his track to see a screen playing a stage performance of the exact same song being played in the store. “Yeah! There is the group, they are really well known in Japan since they’re are touring there, I think the youngest is the same age as me and Fushiguro” to which he pointed at a girl that he was explaining about.

Looking at the scene through Itadori’s eyes, Sukuna began to observe each and every single girl that was dancing on the stage before he paused his view on a certain girl that Itadori pointed, who was dressed in a white off the shoulder crop top that was long-sleeved with a white skirt paired with white trainers that matched with the rest of the girls within the group.

“Little songbird?” he quietly muttered, not believing what was presented in front of him at this current moment in time.

There was no doubt about it, that was you on the screen singing and dancing to a song that he slowly began to love once he heard your voice. You truly looked angelic as you gracefully danced across the stage somehow managing to maintain a stable singing voice that never disappointed him. You were back.

His little songbird.

[ilyrafe]

𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉 𝑽

pairing: charles brandon x duchess!reader

warnings: angst, a brief panic attack, forced kiss.

word count: 3,2k

taglist: @runawayolives​​ @kmuir1​​ @marytudorbrandon​​ @lharrietg​​ @shittingdicknipple​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​ @mis-lil-red​ @amberangel112​​ @ohmygoodie @itmejado​​ @radaofrivia​​ @scarlets-widow​​ @ragamuffin285​​​ @thereisa8ella​​​ @​​titty-teetee @dropletsofkaisoo​

a/n: shit goes down from now on just saying..........

redamancy masterlist | main masterlist

his guilt and conscience do not allow him to fall asleep and rest in his bed. if he wants to be civil and reciprocally, he needs to recognize when he is in the wrong and apologize. she didn’t do anything wrong, he shouldn’t have set such high expectations.

he puts on his robe and goes to the duchess’s chambers. strangely, he thinks it is a good thing that her room is far from his, just so he has time to think of the right words. it’s not the first time he’s been intimidated in her presence, and stuttering in front of her seems pathetic.

he takes a deep breath and knocks three times on the door. to his surprise, beatrice answers the door. 

“your grace.” she bows to the duke.

as he steps into her room, he smells roses and cinnamon, a different combination of scents, but just as pleasant. he can’t help but look into the duchess’s main environment, which is lit by candles in certain places. there are books everywhere and flowers from the garden that he recognizes. her dressing table has few items, just a small jewelry box, a brush, and a few hairpins, but her desk has lots of papers and a small leather-bound notebook that looks like a diary. being the curious creature he is, he’s already starting to wonder if she writes about him.

“charles?” y/n’s voice calls out to him, and she looks a little confused as to why he’s in her room in his nightwear.

she runs to put on her robe, even though charles saw her more exposed than usual. sensing her presence is no longer needed, beatrice excuses herself and leaves the duke and the duchess alone. charles mentally thanks the young woman as she leaves, because privacy is what he wants the most right now.

“i owe you an apology.” he starts. “i admit i should not have been rude to you at dinner, i hope you will forgive me. it will not happen again.”

once again, she can hear the sincerity in his voice. perhaps the image she has of charles is twisted. what if she is wrong about him?

“i owe you an apology, too.” she admits.

“what for?”

“for the way i have been treating, or mistreating you these past months.”

seeing her in a position of vulnerability is nearly shocking. it’s not even that much exposure from her, but charles sees her as a tough person, and hearing her words comforts him, because just like her, he feels sincerity and honesty in her apology. more than anyone else, he knows how hard it is to admit when you are in the wrong.

“oh, do not worry. you have your reasons and i understand.”

“even so, i shouldn’t have been such a monster to you.”

“it is all in the past.”

a small smile appears on her lips. apparently a white flag indicating a truce had been raised. charles says goodbye and goes back to his room, no longer feeling the pain in his back as he is always tense in the presence of y/n. his shoulders are relaxed as is his posture. with a smile on his face, charles goes back to his bed and for the first time since he got married, he sleeps peacefully.

(...)

a few weeks have passed, the eighteenth birthday of king henry’s new wife, katherine howard, approaches. the friendship between y/n and charles just blossoms, which makes the duke happier. conversations over dinner gradually linger, and making her laugh is almost a duty he gives to himself. it’s the most pleasant sound, and he finds it adorable when she covers her mouth when she laughs a little louder than usual.

they have a quite a lot in common. contrary to what she assumed, charles is far from arrogant. in fact, he doesn’t seem so fond of so many formalities. the way he talks about his parents, who are sadly deceased, is a little disheartening. he seems to need approval from others constantly, something she can relate to.

little by little, y/n manages to humanize in her own head the man behind the broad, strong body that charles has. there’s a sweetness in his blue eyes that she has been allowing herself to notice.

it’s difficult to get more information about her, though. y/n is very reserved and still prefers to spend most of her time by herself, which bothers him a little, and he still notices a little sadness in her eyes. he’s almost positive that something still disturbs her and he tries to make her feel comfortable enough to open up, but all of his attempts have failed.

give time to time, he keeps reminding himself.

(...)

the birthday party is grand, something the court and guests await. king henry always goes out of his way to show off to his subjects. the royal castle is a dream of gold, the most expensive flowers are everywhere, only the best food is being served, and the guests wear their most sophisticated attire. the king is ecstatic over his sixth wife, he will never spare any effort to make her happy.

the carriages keep arriving and more and more people enter the king’s castle. in one of them is charles and y/n, and both are as well dressed as the others in the royal court. y/n’s dress is stunning, and it’s completely different from the ones she’s ever worn in public. its rich emerald tone compliments her entirely, and the pearls in her hair soften her youthful appearance. charles is as well groomed as she is, but he opted for a monochromatic black attire, which makes him look even more imposing. regardless, they look complementary to each other.

“do not be surprised if male attention is focused on you.” he comments with a subtle laugh.

her puzzled expression cheers him a bit. he knows what is said about him and his wife, both the nasty comments and the most lustful ones.

he helps her down from the carriage and, with arms entwined, they enter the royal castle. as they are announced, all eyes turn to the couple. the king, upon seeing his longtime friend, goes to meet him with a proud smile on his face. the duchess’s distaste for the king is clear, but she knows how to hide it, for the sake of etiquette. after greeting each other briefly, charles and y/n follow to the main table, where the king is reunited with his wife.

“oh, you must be y/n!” the queen cheerfully says, properly ditching said etiquette. “your dress is marvelous!”

“thank you, your majesty.” y/n smiles.

the bubbly nature of the queen is pleasant; even charles thinks she’s quite funny with her antics. the age gap between her and the king is quite alarming, but she seems to be what holds him down a bit.

the music is loud, and the guests are all over the ballroom, either dancing or talking. for some reason, y/n feels unquiet. maybe it’s the heat, the loud noises or the constant glares she gets from other women. they don’t even try to hide when they’re obviously gossiping about her. she’s not entirely aware of her ‘fame’, but she knows she’s the subject of many conversations.

enthusiastically, the king taps his cup with silverware, drawing the attention of all the guests.

“first of all, i want to thank you all for coming to my beloved wife’s birthday, your majesty, the queen.” he says and hears applause for the sweet queen katherine. “happy birthday, my love. may the next few years of your life be as beautiful as you are.”

katherine blows her husband a kiss and he raises his wineglass to the guests. everyone raises their glasses and takes a sip, celebrating the queen’s life.

“i wonder how long this marriage is going to last…” charles comments under his breath, only y/n is able to hear, and she chuckles in response.

“i give it a year.”

they exchange a look, and when the music starts to play again, a few of the guests begin to dance in pairs.

“would you grant me a dance?” he asks.

as she looks around, she sees that her attention is focused on the king and queen. a dance won’t do any harm, she thinks.

“of course.”

he takes her to the center of the room by her hand, and soon they stand opposite each other to dance. if his memory serves him, he’s never been this close to her, and he takes this moment as an opportunity to really get a closer look, maybe he notices a new detail on her beautiful face? if he could, he’d spend hours memorizing every detail of y/n, because she’s so stunning, and with every observation she makes—of any subject—she becomes the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

y/n, however, is fighting all of her instincts. she doesn’t quite allow herself to look at charles. even though they are in a peaceful territory, he’s still the man who has been with her friends, he’s still the man who accepted her father’s offer to marry her in exchange for a mere position at the court. she’s certainly noticed his looks, and can’t deny that he isn’t as awful as she made herself to believe, and now she knows he’s an excellent dancer.

he guides her so masterfully and firmly, she feels safe, even though she isn’t very fond of dancing. regardless, he makes it feel pleasant. his eyes doesn’t leave hers for a second, but she looks around every now and then.

that’s when she sees a very familiar face, amidst all these people. one she would recognize anywhere, but the spin of the dance makes her lose sight of the person.

“is everything alright?” charles asks.

“yes…” she replies, toneless.

the dance continues, faster now. small heels mark the final part of the dance, and the noise of several shoes on the floor makes her uncomfortable. who is that person? the rhythm of the music picks up, people are talking loudly, the dance gets more energetic, and all she wants is to recognize that face. it can’t be.

she keeps searching for that face, but there are so many people in that ballroom, it’s pointless. the dance is making her feel a bit nauseous, she even contemplates leaving charles on the dance floor by himself, but when he bows down to her, she realizes the dance is finally over.

finally!

when they return to the main table, henry calls them to introduce them to the duchess of jämtland. even from afar, y/n can see how different the duchess is. pale complexion, light, straight and fine hair, bright blue eyes. she can’t help but compare herself to her. beside the duchess is her husband.

james.

the face she had seen. it’s him.

“charles and y/n, i would like to introduce you to my friends from sweden, your grace annika and her husband, james.” king henry says.

with each step she takes, y/n’s body freezes more and more, her heart beats faster and faster, and her breathing gets shorter and shorter. james is not at all shocked, more like afraid. only he knows the reason for the terror on y/n’s face at that moment, as much as she tries to hide it, he knows her better than anyone else in that room. she cannot move a single finger to greet the duchess and her husband.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace.” charles says to annika and kisses the back of her hand.

when he turns his attention to james, y/n feels like fainting. as if her two worlds are about to collide.

“this is my longtime friend, charles, the duke of suffolk and his wife, y/n, his duchess.” henry says.

“it is an honor to meet you, your grace.” james says, repeating the same gesture as charles, but now with the woman he once promised to love forever.

y/n is unable to move throughout the entire greeting process, and the situation only gets worse when she notices the annika’s subtle bump, which she doesn’t seem to hide that she is pregnant, as she takes her belly in with her hands.

“they are here to visit my kingdom and james is possibly going to war with us. sweden is our partner against france.” henry informs charles, completely unaware of the history between james and y/n.

“my apologies,” y/n speaks, trying to regain herself. “i’m not-”

“would your grace grant me a dance?” james interrupts.

he looks at charles with a silent request, and the duke looks at his wife.

“she doesn’t require my permission.” charles explains.

“ah, of course! a dance! charles, take annika to dance, james, you take y/n to dance. let’s all dance!” the king shouts, clearly a little inebriated.

everyone gathers in the center of the room and starts dancing.  y/n’s hands are shaky and a bit sweaty, and james tries to soothe her with his gaze. he tries to apologize, but knows she will never forgive him. after everything that happened between them… it’s almost impossible to believe it.

“i can explain.” he mumbles.

“don’t.” she simply says.

her odd behavior hasn’t gone unnoticed, though. charles has never seen her so pale before, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. he glances at them, and he knows she’s on the verge of tears. he isn’t dumb — it takes charles less than a few minutes to realize that james is the man y/n claimed to love, months ago. the way they’re looking at each other is more than enough proof.

“y/n, please.”

“she is with child.” y/n’s voice trembles with her own affirmation.

james is heartbroken, more than he was when they saw each other for the last time, over a year ago.

“we can still be together.”

his speech outrages her, and she is forced to withdraw. she runs as fast as she can to the large and vast garden of the castle, and hopes that no one will find her, but charles and james have gone after her, and a small commotion is caused in the hall, which is quickly contained. the poor swedish duchess is left confused.

she feels that the walls are getting tighter and tighter, or maybe it’s the dress that is too tight on her body that doesn’t let her breathe.

breathe.

breathe, y/n.

only when she manages to get out of the castle and into the huge garden is it possible to hear the silence and breathe fresh air, no matter how cold it is. it’s behind a big tree that she finally stops running. her chest is tight, beating faster than ever. it’s all so disappointing and confusing, she just wants it to be over.

she thought she had experienced pain before, but now it’s different. a mixture of hatred and disappointment washes over her like a wave, and she reduces herself to tears. the more she thinks about it, more tears roll down her face and her heart feels tighter.

she hears footsteps approaching, and to her surprise, james finds her. he looks just as haunted as she is, and he’s panting from running so fast to find her.

“my love-”

“no!” she protests. “you betrayed me, james! how could you?!”

“y/n, please…”

“how dare you?!” she inquires through her teeth, not even able to hide her anger. “how dare you come to me with a wife? with a pregnant wife?!”

“you must listen to me, y/n.” he says as he grabs her by her shoulders and forcing her to look at his eyes. “i could not get to you if i did not marry someone... important. i did this for you, my love.”

he pulls her against him and kisses her forcefully, but y/n manages to punch him in the chest and break free of his embrace. she pushes him away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand harshly.

“don’t you dare touch me.” she barks through gritted teeth, her voice is full of rage. “you went to bed with her for me? how fucking stupid do you think i am, james? don’t you know me at all?!”

unbeknownst to them, charles is near, watching the fight, prepared to attack him if need be, but from what he sees, y/n is able to fend for herself. there’s no doubt he is the man she told him about, and charles can’t deny his jealousy, not even to himself. he’s never seen y/n so heartbroken before, and all of his instincts are telling him to intervene.

“i still love you!” james claims desperately.

“i suggest you leave her alone.” charles says with the calmest tone to his voice.

y/n is only able to breathe when she sees the duke, because he brings her a sensation of security. she’s even able to breathe a little better.

“who do you think you are to talk to me with this tone?” james challenges. “i couldn’t care less if you are her husband, your grace,” he says with a mocking tone. “we all know this is an arrangement. she loves me.”

“i am trying to be peaceful for her sake, but if you insist on testing me, i’ll lose my composure and end you.” the duke threatens, and his tone is as cold as winter nights.

both men are now face to face, close to each other, and the possibility of the fight becoming physical makes her desperate, as the last thing she wants is a scandal.

“both of you, stop! now!” she exclaims as she pushes the two tall, strong men apart. she knows james, and he can certainly be scary. he’s a tall, built man with fighting skills, but it seems that charles is his elevated match. “i will not tolerate a scene.”

“he started it!” james barks.

“stop it!” y/n protests. she regains a bit of control over herself and wipes her tears with the back of her hands. “leave,” she pleads. “we have nothing else to talk about.”

“y/n-”

“james, please! i do not want to see you ever again.”

outraged, james does as she says and leaves, but not before pushing charles with his shoulder on his way out.

“did he hurt you?” charles asks as he cups her face in his hands. the scary look is no longer on his face, as he is now concerned. her teary eyes break him completely. she looks so broken and hopeless.

yes. deeply.

“please, i must go home.” she begs and sniffles, never before having felt so small. “please, i am begging you.”

“yes, absolutely.”

charles takes her in his arms and soothes her before they leave. for the first time, they’re in each other’s arms, and both of them feel complete somehow. in this very moment, charles represents the security she needs, and she is the equivalent of what is missing in his life. the comfort she finds in his embrace is something she didn’t even know could be real. not even in james’ arms she felt such care.

did james care for her at all?

the most heartbreaking thing is that she can feel her love for james turning into absolute hatred and it is terrifying.

“i am here for you, y/n.” charles whispers before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

---

feedback is always appreciated! 

[nights-legacy]

Trading 3 angrys for 1? - Bakugo Katsuki

   Help and Hide Series. Bakugo Edition

   Kirishima Ed.  Denki Ed.  Todoroki Ed.  Deku Ed.  Shinso Ed.  Iida Ed.  Aizawa Ed.  Tamaki Ed.   Hawks Ed.  Dabi Ed.  Shiggy Ed.

     + You are a student at UA and the whole class is on a field trip in Tokyo. On a free day, you all went out and you ran into to old “friends” and things go south. While trying to get away from them, you spot the token hot head of the class and decide to take your chances with this angry person over the angry people chasing you and are you pleasantly surprised. 

Note: My first My Hero Academia imagine!!! Let me know it you want a part two of this and I was thinking of making this a headcanon type for some of the other MHA/BNHA guys too. What do you think??

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

      “Over here Mina! I found those little things you’re obsessed with!” I called over to the pink skin girl.

       “Yay! Lemme see! Lemme see!” She came barreling over and nearly ran into me and the table. I rolled my eyes and chuckled. She squealed and call Jirio over to show her. I walked over to another street vendor. Our class was on a field trip in Tokyo and we were given a free day. Everyone agreed on going out and seeing the scene.

       “Ah! Don’t throw squid at me Kaminari!” I heard Deku scream and laughed at the context before turning to see said electric boy chasing the broccoli with a squid arm. I burst out laughing, holding my stomach. I shook my head before wandering farther down the street.

        I was originally from Tokyo before I moved to attend UA. My family are not insanely rich but we are well off. My parents own a house in both Tokyo and Musutafu as well as vacation homes or condos in different parts of the world. I wandered away from most of the class and I really wish I hadn’t.

      “Oi! Lookie here, dudes. It’s Lee’s younger sister Y/N.” A chill went up my spine as I froze from the familiar voice. I slowly turned around to see my older brother’s former three best friends with wicked smiles on their faces.

      I hadn’t seen them since my brother cast them out of his life. He found out that they were bullying me behind his back for god knows how long and immediately cut ties with them. He only found out because I missed covering up an unmistakable wounds from their quirks. He was mad at me for not telling him but was more concerned for me in the long run.

      “H-hey g-guys.” I stuttered, mentally berating myself for being so scared. I’m training to be a Pro-Hero for god sakes! I tried to steel myself against the incoming assault but couldn’t help but inwardly shake.

      “Aw. Is wittle Y/N scared?” Kei, the leader of them teased. “Well you should be bitch!”

     “You cost us advantage with your brother!” Haru yelled as he jerked forward, grabbing my bicep hard. I yelped and he shook me. “Shut up.”

     “We could never…‘talk’…to you about it because Lee never let us near you again. And it became even harder when you went off to that Hero school. You didn’t even give us a chance.” Kei gave me a smirk when he said talk, meaning something completely different the actual definition. “We could have worked things out.”

      “In more ways than one.” Aaron eyed me up and down. “You sure have grown up, little sis.” Kei rolled his eyes and hit him in the chest hard. Aaron looked at him offended while Kei just gave him a ‘really’ look.

      “I’m sure we could have but…” I gulped as I saw Haru activate his laser quirk. “I really have to go right now.” I pointed behind me. “Gotta catch up with the rest of my c-class.” I tried to pull away but was pulled back hard. I looked at them with fearful eyes.

      “Not just yet, bitch!” They laughed and looked at each other amused. I looked around at the people around us. There are not too many people close so I decided to use my quirk. I have a light and shadow quirk.

      “I really have to go.” I said in a firm voice. They looked at me surprised and I gave them a blinding flash. The grip on my arm immediately disappeared and they all covered their eyes as they yelped. I took off running back in the direction of the rest.

      “Get back here!” Kei yelled. I obviously ignored him. I ran and avoid people easily with my high agility. I stopped to take a breath and see how far they were behind me. At first I could only hear them and other people yelling at them but I saw them finally a ways back.

      “Shit, shit, shit.” I mumbled looking around for anyone I knew or something to hide behind. I finally caught sight of Bakugo a few yards away. I bit my lip and wondered if it was worth asking the angry Pomeranian for help against the anger musketeers. When I saw the three close I didn’t think twice. “Ah!”

      I ran over to the explosive boy and quickly grabbed his arm, dragging him over to the close by building.

     “What the hell!” He screamed at me. I flinched but looked back towards the others.

     “Sh, sh! Please, shh!” I tried to shush him but he growled at me.

     “What the hell do you think you’re doing you damn strobe light?” I wanted to giggle at his nickname for me but there was no time. I caught sight of his hoodie around his waist and ripped it off of him. “Hey!”

     “Please, just…I...ah!” I saw them closer now. I yanked the hoodie over my head and made sure the hood was up. I then did the unthinkable without even thinking. I grabbed Bakugo by the collar of his shirt and backed up. My back him the wall and I pulled him close and into kiss before he could even protest.

      “Wha…” He mumbled against my lips, hands falling tense on both sides of my head. He tried to pull away but my grip was vice.

     “Where is that little bitch! I am going to beat her to a pulp when I get my hands on her.” I heard Kei growl from right near us. “She will be so messed up that she won’t even be able to go to brother to rat this time.” I whimpered against Bakugo’s lips and my grip on his shirt tightened. I felt Bakugo stop fighting me.

     “I say we don’t even let her be able to do anything at all when were done with her.” Haru chipped.

     I don’t know what happened but Bakugo relaxed and leant into me. He moved his hands so one of his forearms rested next to my head and the other moved to my hip. What shocked me most is when he started kissing me back. We slowly started to actually kiss each other making the scene more authentic.

     “Come on, let’s check this way.” Aaron said and I heard them move on only slightly, more focused on the man kissing me then the men who were chasing me. I expected Bakugo to pull away as soon as they were gone but it seemed like he moved in even closer, continuing our soft make out session. We only pulled away when we both ran out of breath.

    “Wow.” I said was gasping for the breath he stole. I saw a small smirk grace his lips. “I think they’re gone now.” I whispered. Bakugo chuckled at my comment.

      “Yeah.” He rasped out before leaning back in, starting another make out session. I don’t know how long we were here but we were only brought back out when we heard a chorus of surprised yells come from Kami and Kiri.

     “Woah! Bakubro! L/N! What’s this pleasant development?” Kami asked while adding kissing noises on the end of his question. Bakugo pulled away and dropped his head a little groaning.

     “Dudes! I didn’t know you had a thing for each other!” Kiri exclaimed. :That’s totally awesome.

      “At least there’s someone out there that can deal with your angry ass, Bakugo.” Kami teased.

      “Shut it you damn extras!” Bakugo yelled over his shoulder. I giggled. He smirked when he turned back to me. He reached up and pushed the hood down and pulled my hair from the hoodie, brushing it out lightly with his fingers. He suddenly placed his hand at the juncture of my neck and pecked my lips. “Keep it on.”

       “Okay.” I said softly. He smiled for real before throwing an arm over my shoulder.

       “Come on you idiots! Let go find the rest of our dumb class. It’s getting close to time to head back.” We started walking and they conversation quickly changed comments. As we walked by an off shot of the street, I flinched when I heard their voice again. I felt Bakugo pull me tighter against him and rub his hand up and down my arm in comfort. He leant down to whisper in my ear. “When we get back to the hotel, I want to tell me what just happened and what those douchebags did to you. Is that okay?”

         “Yeah, that’s okay.” I whispered back. He hummed and smiled before pecking the side of my head and nuzzling my hair. I almost got whiplash by how soft he was being to me but reveled in this side of Bakugo that I was quickly beginning to love. Well, more than I already loved this explosion boy. He just didn’t know that yet.

[honeypiehotchner]

delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.  

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here. 

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.

[spacexcowgirl]

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N enters a fwb relationship with Fred, only to realize she’s going to have a lot more trouble keeping things platonic than she thought.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Smut, Oral (male receiving), masturbation, light hair pulling, exhibitionism (sort of? I mean they do it in a public bathroom so yeah), unprotected sex, possessive talk, swearing, brief alcohol mention. pretty angsty throughout but it ends fluffy so.

A/N: I’m obsessed with the fwb trope and wanted to see if I could write a smut, so here we are. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and let me know if I missed any warnings! Pictures are from Pinterest. (Also, I know this is a repost. Let’s see if the tags actually wanna work this time :) )

You watched as Fred’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes remained trained on the dance floor. You couldn’t allow yourself to follow his gaze, because you knew what you would see, and you knew it would break your heart. Angelina was there, and she was dancing closely to some guy that wasn’t Fred. Judging by his change in demeanor, he wasn’t as over their breakup as he had claimed.

You hated seeing him like this, for reasons beyond the fact that you were his best friend. It was selfish, sure, but part of the reason why you were so bothered was because you knew he would never be so jealous over you. And that stung.

It had been three months since him and Angelina had split. In those three months, Fred had vehemently claimed that he was fine, that their breakup was mutual, and that he hardly even thought about her anymore. Now, judging by the way he hadn’t uttered more than two words since she waltzed in, you and George could confirm what you already knew; he was lying. When it came to their emotions, its what the Weasley boys did best. Conceal as long as possible, before ultimately blowing up. Evidently, that blow up was about to come tonight.

“Maybe we should just go?” You placed a delicate hand on Fred’s shoulder. The action tore his gaze from Angelina for just a moment, then his eyes were back on her.

“No, no. I’m fine.” He lied through gritted teeth. “We came out tonight to have fun, so, let’s have fun.”

With that, he downed the rest of the drink in his glass and took your hand, guiding you out on the dance floor. You glanced back, just momentarily, and caught George’s worried gaze. Fred most certainly was not fine, but you could also tell that George’s worry extended to you. He knew you were one longing glance away from falling point-of-no-return in love with his brother, and that scared him. Almost as much as it scared you.

Once you and Fred had infiltrated the crowd of people, his hands were on your hips, but he couldn’t meet your eyes. So, to save yourself just a little bit of heartache, you turned in his grasp so your bum was pressed to his front. In this position, you didn’t have to face him blatantly staring at another girl. You closed your eyes and moved your hips to the music, letting yourself just for a moment get lost in the feeling of his big hands guiding your hips. For a little while, you could shut out reality and simply pretend it was just the two of you, and that he wasn’t desperately wishing you were someone else.

The feeling of his warm breath against your neck shook you back to the present, causing you to instinctively crane your neck to give him further access. His lips ghosted a line there, sending goosebumps alive in their path. They traced their way up to your ear, giving a gentle nip to your lobe before he spoke.

“It’s working, she keeps looking over here.” He whispered in a low voice. 

You simply hummed in response, continuing the grinding of your bum against his hips. Truthfully, you didn’t care whether she was looking or not, but of course you couldn’t say that. So, silence sufficed.

This is what your relationship had morphed into in the months since his breakup. What had started as a completely innocent, and drunken, conversation between friends about how it should be criminal how long you had gone without getting laid, had somehow turned into this murky friends with benefits relationship you were now in. Neither of you tried to hide the fact that you would occasionally sleep together from George or other peers, which was why your current grinding appeared normal to him, but you both always made it clear you were still just friends.

So, when Fred had a long day at work, there you were, your mouth showing him in more ways than one how to relax. When George and him got into a fight, although it was rare, you were there as a thing for him to ruin, to take all of his frustrations out on. Basically just about any mood he could possibly be in, you were there to make it even better.

That’s not to say you got nothing out of the arrangement, though. Fred was there for you, too. After those awful long days that seemed never ending, when you were too in your head over an upcoming work project, when you just needed to relax a little. Fred Weasley could make you cum so hard you’d forget anything wrong in your life, including the extremely unfortunate feelings you harbored for him. Even if it was just momentarily.

Not to mention, if having Fred in your bed was the closest you’d get to truly being with him, then you’d take it. Because as you lay pinned beneath him, your name leaving his lips like a prayer, you could feel like the only girl in his world. And that feeling breathed life into you like nothing else could.

So, now, here you were, pressed up against the man who held the power to break your heart if he so chose, but who also had no idea. It seemed Fred truly thought what you had was just fun between friends. Another reason you couldn’t fault him.

“Oh, fuck.” Fred groaned worriedly into your neck before straightening up. His words and the sudden space he had now put between the two of you caused you to furrow your brows, until he spoke again. “She’s coming over.”

Fred and you had already been somewhat on the outskirts of the dance floor, which meant Angelina and the man she had entered with had to pass you to get to the bar. Of course, they wouldn’t just walk by without saying anything. Angelina had always been a sweetheart, and Fred and her had ended somewhat amicably, so it was no wonder she was now approaching with a bright smile on her face.

“Freddie! Y/N/N!” She quickly enveloped you in a hug, causing her familiar floral perfume to fill your nose. Godric, could she get any more perfect?

“I feel like it’s been ages.” Next she was hugging Fred, and although he was stiff, Angelina was nothing but friendly and carried on as if she didn’t even notice. When she pulled back, she gestured to the man who she had approached with. “This is Stephen. He’s my uh…” She seemed to falter for a moment, her eyes flicking guiltily to Fred before she continued. “My boyfriend.”

You didn’t have to look up at Fred to know his jaw was clenched, now for more reasons than one. Thinking back to when Fred and her were still together, you had heard him complain on more than one occasion about a ‘Stephen’ that she worked with. Even though she had told him that he was no one to worry about, perhaps Fred had a right to be so jealous.

There was a tense moment of silence, all four of you internally gauging the situation and where to take things from there. Angelina was the first to clear her throat and gesture between both you and Fred.

“So, uh, I hadn’t heard that you two were together.” Her eyes fell to yours, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “You know, I always thought you guys would make a cute couple. I mean, even before…” Her words trailed off, careful not to breach the subject of her failed relationship with Fred. 

To save her from an awkward ramble, you decided to speak up. A sheepish look crossed your features as you prepared yourself for the ever-uncomfortable ‘actually, we’re not together, we’re just screwing’ talk.

“Well, we’re not really—”

“Not really sure why we hadn’t gotten together sooner.” Fred cut you off, his arm snaking around your waist although his eyes never left Angelina’s.

Your eyes grew wide at his words, your heart speeding up. Of course, you knew what he was doing. He was Fred Weasley for Godric’s sake, and he’d rather be dead than admit to his happily-moved on ex-girlfriend that he was still alone. Still, the thought of truly being with him crossed your mind, like it did more often than you’d like to admit, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” You could tell she meant it. With that, she let her hand drop and intertwine with Stephen’s before shooting the two of you one last smile and hauling him towards the bar.

Fred’s grip on your waist had grown even tighter and you found yourself wondering if he even realized it. His breath was ragged and shallow, and when you looked up at his face you found that his eyes were squeezed shut. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to discern if Fred needed his best friend or his fuck buddy right now. Ultimately, you decided he probably needed a little bit of both.

“Why don’t you stop torturing yourself and we finally get out of here?” You pleaded.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

And before you could ask what, exactly, that meant, he was firmly grasping your wrist and hauling you to the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a very big room, and half of you wondered if the lock on the door even properly worked, based solely on how old it looked. You didn’t have a lot of time to worry, though, before Fred’s lips were pressed against yours and he was pushing you against the porcelain sink.

You moaned into his mouth at the desperation in his actions, your hands quickly finding the base of his neck and tangling in the hairs there. In an instant, he had you hoisted onto the cool white fixture and was stood between your legs, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You threw your head back, arching your chest towards him, and let out a moan as he began to suck at the soft skin below your ear.

He had quickly taken things into his own hands, as he often did, but you knew that wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. You pulled your head away, halting the kisses he had been planting to your neck, and placed your hands on his shoulders. His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, but as you gently pushed him back and hopped down from the sink, only to sink to your knees, he couldn’t help but grin in anticipation.

You fiddled with his belt buckle, undoing it as quickly as you could before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. You wasted no time teasing him, but rather pulled down his trousers and boxers in one go, suddenly eye level with his hard cock.

Your hand wrapped around his length, beginning to stroke him in the way that had grown so familiar to you. He tilted his head back and let out a groan at your slow pace, which only encouraged you further. The second that his eyes were back on you, you leaned in slightly and kitten licked the tip, maintaining the most innocent look you possibly could. Then, you opened your mouth and swallowed him down, keeping your hand on his base to work on the extra length you can’t fit. You felt Fred gather your hair into a ponytail, gently guiding your motions against him. He hardly had to do any work, you already knew how to please him so well.

“Fuck, yes,” Fred sighed, his eyes glued to the image of his cock disappearing between your lips. Knowing that he’s watching you, you gazed up at him through your lashes and hollowed out your cheeks, your hand twisting up and down as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Play with yourself, princess. Get yourself ready for me.”

While in any other situation you may have shot a quip at him about being a lazy git, right now you knew that realistically you two simply didn’t have very much time. What you were doing was risky, and it was Fred who needed to relieve some tension, so you’d have to be resigned to doing all of the work. Besides, sucking Fred off while he looked at you like that and moaned so beautifully turned you on to no end, so you supposed you really shouldn’t be complaining.

Your free hand snaked down and dipped beneath the waist band of your leggings, quickly pushing aside your panties and beginning to dip into your wet folds. You let out a moan against Fred’s cock, the vibration causing him to groan lowly.

This only lasted about a minute, before the reality set in that you just were not a very good multitasker. It was nearly impossible for you to keep up with sucking and wanking him off while simultaneously focusing on your own pleasure. So you resigned to pulling your lips off completely and catching your breath, allowing one hand to continue working on your own pleasure while the other twisted up and down his cock, pausing every few moments to swipe your thumb over the sensitive head.

Fred’s hips bucked involuntarily in your grip from the contact. Then he was grasping your wrist and halting your actions, hoisting you up to a standing position by your elbow. He pulled you into one final, passionate kiss, before he was spinning you around and bending you over the sink. He folded himself over your body, intent on whispering into your ear.

“I want you loud,” He grumbled against your neck, placing a rough kiss there. One of his hands was now wrapped around you and kneading at your breast through your top, while the other had rested on your hip. “I want everyone in this whole bloody pub to hear you screaming my name.”

You knew what he really meant was he wanted Angelina to hear you screaming his name, but his hands were now yanking your leggings and panties down to your ankles, so your brain could hardly focus on anything else. You let out a breathy, quiet, moan as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your wet folds. His response was instantaneous as he pulled away from you completely, eyes narrowed.

“What did I say, princess?” His stroked himself lazily, pointedly busying himself with everything but touching you. 

“Please, Fred.” You simply whined. You always were slightly embarrassed by how desperate you were for him.

“I said,” He ignored your pleas, taking a step closer to you once again. “I want you loud. Honestly, if you can’t listen, you can just go back to having that pretty mouth of yours suck my cock, and you can worry about getting yourself off later.”

You let out a whimper at that, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You wouldn’t put it past him to tease you like that, so you knew you had to play your cards right to avoid it. 

“Think you can listen? Think you can be good?”

“Yes,” You breathed out, your hands gripping the side of the sink tightly. “I’ll be good.” 

That was all the confirmation he needed before pushing into you. A strangled moan tore itself from your lips, and you couldn’t help but shiver from the look Fred was giving you in the mirror. Once his hips were flush against your bum, he threw his head back and groaned.

“So fucking tight.” Fred gritted. “Always so tight… For me… All for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Freddie.” You moaned out, your eyes flying shut as he began to set a steady pace. Seeing your eyes close caused him to tangled one of his hands in your hair and give it a gentle tug, pulling your head up and arching your back further. The new angle allowed for him to hit at a deeper spot inside of you, causing you both to moan out.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He urged, the sound of his ragged pants mixing with the sound of his hips snapping against your bum. “Say my name, princess.”

The question caught you entirely off guard. Obviously, Fred and you always talked to each other quite differently during sex than during your everyday friendship. Still, this was uncharted territory. Because no part of you did belong to him, no matter how much you longed for it to be so. You couldn’t think on the meaning behind it for too long, though, because as he landed another harsh thrust into you, your mind was cleared of everything but your own pleasure.

“You, Freddie.” You moaned loudly. “All yours.”

“That’s right.” Fred slid the hand that had been resting on your hip around to find your clit, rubbing small circles against it in time with his thrusts. The hand that had been tangled in your hair grabbed your arm and pressed your palm flat against the mirror. He slotted his fingers against your, folding himself further over you as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. “Come on, I need you to cum for me, princess. Need you to say my name.” 

His words sent you over the edge, his name leaving your mouth in nearly incoherent babbles. He continued to lightly rub your clit, rocking you through your orgasm with a few light kisses to your neck, before he snapped his hips into yours one last time, burying himself fully before halting. He had finished inside you, leaving you now both panting as you came down from your highs.

Fred placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before dropping the hand he had pinning you to the mirror and slowly pulled himself out. You whined at the empty feeling, causing him to lowly chuckle from behind you.

Now that your brain was slowly beginning to function properly again, you could think of nothing but the way he had so brazenly claimed you as his. Since when had that become a thing? Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the idea of being his, truly, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you decided to speak up.

“Freddie?” 

He looked up at you in the mirror, having just grabbed his wand and begun to perform a cleaning spell on you. His eyes were soft and kind, a stark contrast to the angry, jealous man you had seen earlier in the night, and it only endeared you further.

“Hm?”

“What you said…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling very stupid. But, you had come too far, and it felt too late to back now. “About, um, belonging, to you… uh…”

“Got a little carried away there, didn’t I?” He chuckled sheepishly, ducking his head down as he finished cleaning you up. You bent down slightly and tugged up your panties and leggings before turning to face him, finding him doing up his zipper. “Guess seeing Angie here with that prat made me feel a little possessive. Did it make you uncomfortable?” The genuine concern lacing his voice nearly made you weak.

“No.” You shook your head, a small smile on your face. The kind of smile you give someone when you’re at the very seams of falling apart, but you’re doing everything in your power to keep it together. Of course, as he had been so vocally claiming you, his motive had been her. You could feel the beginning of tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t let them fall in front of Fred, so you quickly turned back around and gripped the sides of the sink.

“Then what’s wrong?” Fred’s hand was now on your shoulder, urging you to turn towards him. But you knew, one look at him and you’d be done for.

Your mind was racing as you tried to think of your best way out of this situation, the way to walk away without pouring your heart out and ruining this friendship. But, then, you kept hearing him tell Angelina that you were a couple, or the way he claimed you moments before, play over and over again in your head. It was the soundtrack to your heartbreak, and you had no way to turn down the volume.

“I really just want to be alone, Fred.” Was all you could muster, your voice shaking and making you cringe.

“Obviously I did something wrong.” Fred drew his hand back, but he made no motion to leave. “So just tell me what I did and we can fix it sooner rather than later.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” You spun back around, so vehemently ready to deny anything being wrong and send him away. But then you were looking into those soft brown eyes and your heart was breaking just a little bit more and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. “Oh, for fucks sake.” You scolded yourself lightly, beginning to wipe the tears that had fallen.

“Hey, hey,” Fred cooed with open arms, ready to pull you into a hug and help in any way he could. Even if he didn’t completely understand what was going on, he hated to see you hurting.

You held out a stiff arm to keep him away, your other hand still uselessly trying to stop your tears.

A banging at the door and a muffled voice shouting ‘Hurry up in there!’ was the first thing to pull Fred’s attention from you. He had shouted back a quick ‘just a second!’ which you had barely even registered before you were apparating away from the confined space and back to the peaceful emptiness of your flat. There, you could collapse on the floor and cry about just how foolish you’d been to think this was ever a good idea in the first place.

-

Fred had been shocked and mildly upset when he turned around and you were nowhere to be found, but then wrote it off as your way of escaping the bathroom without people having to know what you had been doing in there. When he exited the bathroom and found George, alone, a few minutes later, he was remarkably more confused. Had you really left the pub as a whole? Without saying so much as a goodbye?

Still, Fred resigned to give you your space. He had seen how upset you were, and how reluctant you’d been to wrap up in his arms—which was typically your favorite place to be when you were upset—and decided maybe you really just did need to be alone. If you wanted space, space is what Fred would give you. In reason, of course.

So, when a week had passed with no word from you, Fred was growing remarkably more distraught. The two of you had never willingly gone this long without speaking, and no matter how much Fred tried to reach out, he never got anything in return but silence. Your absence was weighing on him, and he couldn’t help but rack his brain helplessly trying to decipher what exactly he had done wrong.

“Still no reply,” Fred sighed as he thumbed through the last of the mail he and George had been delivered that morning.

“Hm? Oh, Y/N, right.” George had glanced up from his stack of paperwork briefly, before returning his focus on his work. Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother, suddenly very aware of his uninterested response. Fred was a nervous wreck worrying about your disappearances, yet George sat uncharacteristically calm and unbothered.

“You’ve heard from her, haven’t you?” The realization hit Fred all at once, suddenly making him feel sick.

“Well, I mean, yeah.” George set down his quill, finally giving his brother his full attention.

“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Fred nearly screamed, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“You didn’t ask.” George rolled his eyes. “She’s fine, by the way. Just doesn’t…”

“Just doesn’t want to talk to me, right?” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Merlin’s sake, I don’t even know what I did!”

“Isn’t my place to say.” George shrugged. “Although, what I can say, and what may or may not have any relation to Y/N, is you are the blindest, daftest, git I’ve ever met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m really going to have to spell it out, aren’t I?” George sighed, beginning to rub his face with his hands. “Alright, if I must. Let’s play a little game, shall we? I ask a question, you give a simple yes or no answer. Nothing else. Got it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” George wiggled his finger, effectively cutting his brother off. “Alright, now, first question. Have you slept with anyone besides Y/N since you broke up with Angelina?”

“No.” Fred furrowed his brows. “But I don’t get—” This time, he abruptly cut himself off when George shot him a stern look.

“Next question. If you had to guess, has Y/N slept with anyone else since you two started your little… Arrangement?”

“No.”

“Okay, now. Think back to last week, were you actually jealous because Angelina was there with some guy, or was it because she was there specifically with the guy you had been insecure about, and it brought up all those old feelings?”

“I— That’s not a yes or no question!”

“Right, sorry.” George chuckled. “I’ll rephrase; Were you actually just upset and insecure about the specific guy Angelina was with?”

“Yes.” Fred’s voice was softer now.

“Final ones, really hoping this ties it all together for you.” George leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he gazed at his brother. “Little jump back to question two; If Y/N did sleep with someone else since you started would that make you jealous?”

The room was quiet as Fred clenched his jaw. He hated that George knew him and his emotions so well, because it was impossible to hide from them when he was around. After a moment, he stared down at his shoes and simply nodded.

“And, would you say, it would make you more jealous than when you thought you were jealous about Angie?”

Comparing the two jealousies felt pointless to Fred, what he felt last week at the pub wouldn’t even be in the same ballpark as what he would feel if he found out you had slept with someone else. You had always been his person, someone who had been there for him even when he was a stupid teenage boy. You were the only one he’d ever venture to say knew him almost as well as George. He had always written off the tinges of jealousy he felt when other guys flirted with you as the general protectiveness of a best friend, but was what George was insinuating the real explanation? Did he actually just have feelings for you?

“Yeah, it would make me more jealous.” Fred sighed frustratedly. “So what, okay? So maybe I’ve started to have feelings for her. You helping me realize that doesn’t exactly help with the fact that she won’t talk to me.”

“Why don’t you stop by her flat and tell her exactly what you just realized, and tell me if it doesn’t help?” With that, George gathered the last of his paperwork and headed up the stairs to their flat without another word.

-

After a week of working every morning and crashing on your couch every night, watching every sad movie you could find, it was safe to say you were out of tears. Truthfully, now you were just exhausted. It still hurt, but you didn’t have the energy to think about it constantly anymore. For that, you were surprisingly thankful.

So when you heard a knock on your door that Saturday night, you weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You vaguely knew in the back of your mind that it could be Hermione checking in and dropping off food, as she had a few times throughout the week, or maybe George coming in hopes of cheering you up. What you hadn’t expected, though, was the frantic face of Fred, yet that’s exactly what you found.

“I’m sorry to just show up like this, I know it’s kind of late, but you left me no choice.” He pleaded softly. The worried look on his face and the bags under his eyes caused a pool of guilt to form in your stomach, so before you could really think about it, you opened the door further and gestured for him to come in.

You both made your way into your living room, each finding a place on opposite ends of your couch. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Fred nervously ran his hands up and down his thighs, while you wrung your hands repeatedly. Neither of you could seem to look at each other.

“Look I’m—”

“George said—”

Both of you had gone to speak at the same time, causing you to both cut off abruptly. Your eyes found each other for the first time and within seconds a smile was lighting up each of your faces, light laughter bursting from your lips.

“You go ahead.” You offered, the small smile still on your lips despite the pain in your heart. Fred seemed to draw in a deep breath, seeming uncharacteristically nervous. Your stomach flipped at the potential list of things that could come out of his mouth.

“I think I’m starting to fall for you.”

Well, that certainly hadn’t been on your list.

“You… You what?” You questioned, desperate for clarification. Desperate to have him repeat it.

“I said, I think I’m starting to fall for you.” He repeated, the look in his eyes so genuine you nearly trembled. “And I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I still don’t know why, but this is my way of saying I can’t lose you. Even if you don’t feel the same way—”

“What about Angelina?” Your voice was soft, unbelieving that this could ever be your reality.

“What about her?” Fred cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, how upset you got the week before all made sense to him, and he realized George was right. He was a daft git. “Y/N…” He trailed off, his heart suddenly hurting from the pain he’d caused you. “I’ve been such an arse, haven’t I? I used you to make her jealous, and what I said… Oh, fuck.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap. You hated reliving that night again, but some part of you was happy that at least now he had caught on.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He leaned forward and gently rested his hand on your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t care about her like that anymore, I mean it, okay? It just sucked seeing her there with the one guy I had always worried about.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nodded. “Godric, I’ve probably been falling for you my whole life and just been too blind to see it.” His thumb lightly traced your cheekbone, causing your eyes to flutter close. “And even if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. Because I’m still sorry, and I’ll still do any—”

His words were cut off by you nearly throwing yourself towards him, your lips hurriedly find his. Although he seemed shocked at first, he quickly melted into the familiar feeling of your lips on his, and his hand moved down to cup your jaw. Butterflies were fully alive in your stomach, and for the first time you didn’t have the urge to squash them. This felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. After a moment, he pulled back and searched your eyes.

“Was that your way of telling me you feel the same way?” He grinned. “Because, for us, kissing your friend is normal. So I don’t know what that means—”

“Yes, you big idiot.” You teased, although you held nothing but love in your eyes. “I feel the same way.”

Now, he really was unsure why you hadn’t gotten together sooner.

[pitch-pearl-void]

Old birthday present for @ectoblood who wanted Phantom and Danny to go to prom together (AU where Danny met Phantom as his own person)

A hand touched Danny’s, but when he turned to look, no one was there. Danny returned his attention to the dance and spread his fingers apart. Invisible fingers slipped into the resulting gap and folded over his hand, squeezing. Danny’s lips twitched into a small smile, relief loosening his tense muscles, excitement quickening his heart.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” he said. The music was loud enough to hide the conversation, and anyway, who would notice?

“I almost didn’t,” Phantom replied. Cool lips pressed a kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Johnny heard it was your prom night, and he insisted on giving me a lecture about human safety measures pertaining to an ‘after party dance’ that I completely blanked on. I think he was just making things up to scare me. It does explain why so many parents volunteered as chaperons this time, though.”

Danny bit his lip and willed his cheeks not to flush. “Speaking of parents, Jazz convinced mine to leave the ghost hunting equipment at home.”

“Oh, good. Perhaps I should stay invisible for now, though.”

Although Danny nodded, he felt something like disappointment sink into his stomach. The hand he held in his own was bare, the touch of Phantom’s skin as always sending little sparks of contact to dance along his nerves. Phantom wasn’t wearing the gloves of his repurposed jumpsuit, which meant he had to be wearing something else. He might have gotten dressed up. He might have borrowed one of Danny’s suits or an outfit more in line with his ghost heritage, but Danny wouldn’t see, couldn’t see, until they left the dance.

Which sort of defeated the purpose.

“Where are Sam and Tucker?”

Danny searched the crowd of dancers until he saw the flash of Sam’s dress pass beneath the shifting-colored lights above the dance floor. He pointed at her as Tucker spun her out, the two of them laughing at the annoyed looks the others were giving them. They were moving too fast for a slow song. They were having fun when they were supposed to stare lovingly into their partner’s eyes.

“Over there,” Danny said. “Sam wanted to ‘liven things up.’ The romance crowd has had a death grip on the DJ all night, and Tucker is helping her protest.”

“Do you think their scheme will work before we have a chance to dance?” Phantom asked, sounding a little worried.

Danny glanced at Phantom, though again he saw nothing. “Do you know how to dance?”

Phantom’s hand squeezed Danny’s, and his voice took on a proud tone. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been practicing.”

“Human dances or ghost dances?”

Cold air gusted into Danny’s face like a reprimand, but the gym was so hot with so many human bodies gathered inside that Danny closed his eyes and welcomed the breeze. “Human,” Phantom said. But then he added in an undertone, “sort of.”

Danny opened his eyes again and gave Phantom an askance look. “Sort of?”

Phantom glided ahead of Danny and tugged gently on his hand. “I’ll show you.”

Danny resisted the pull and swept his eyes left then right. “Phantom, I’ll look like a total idiot dancing by myself, I can’t—” Cold energy rushed over Danny, and his hand disappeared from sight. He lifted his free hand to be sure it too was invisible. “Oh,” he said. “Right. Duh.”

Phantom chuckled. “Duh.”

He tugged on Danny’s hand again, and this time, Danny allowed Phantom to lead him forward. He located his parents for safety’s sake, but once he saw his mom dancing with his dad, her head resting on his chest, he returned his attention to where Phantom was leading him. Toward the dance floor, obviously, but how were they going to dance while invisible? People would be bumping into them from all directions. Even along the way, Phantom had to pause or weave around the partygoers crossing their path.

They reached the edge of the dance floor, and Danny still didn’t understand how they were going to pull it off, not until his invisible arm rose above his head, his feet lifted off the floor, and his tuxedo jacket floated off his back. Danny widened his eyes. Phantom tugged on his arm, pulling him higher and higher until they floated well above the dancers.

A moment later, Danny felt Phantom kiss his hand. “Ghosts float when they dance. Is it too much?”

The lights were brighter so close to the ceiling. The speakers—located beside the DJ’s table—were quieter and Danny could hear the nervous tension in Phantom’s voice. There was a part deep inside Danny that urged him to say yes. Turning invisible was one thing, allowing a ghost to dance with him in midair should have been another. It wasn’t so long ago he was as frightened of ghosts as the rest of the students, perhaps more so because of his parents’ experiments and lectures.

But things had changed, and the love and excitement stirring Danny’s heart into a wild rhythm were louder than the caution his parents had taught him.

“It’s perfect,” he said, trying to match his voice to his grin so Phantom would understand how happy he had just made him. “How long can you keep this up?”

Between the flight and the invisibility…

“Oh, perhaps two or three songs.” Phantom lifted Danny’s hand upward. Another cool hand pressed against Danny’s lower back and pulled him closer. It was a more traditional dance pose than Danny was used to, and he raised his eyebrows even as his stomach fluttered and swooped. “I should take a break afterward to keep from exhausting myself.”

Danny laughed, mostly due to nervous excitement. “Right! Yeah. Don’t want to fall on the others below.”

“That would be bad,” Phantom agreed. “Are you ready?”

Danny searched blindly for Phantom’s shoulder with his free hand, found his chest—it felt like Phantom wore a jacket, same as Danny—and slid his hand up until it could rest on Phantom’s shoulder. His other hand squeezed Phantom’s. “Ready.”

Phantom moved, rotating them slowly around a fixed point in a waltz. Danny moved his feet out of reflex, but it wasn’t like dancing on the floor at all. Phantom controlled the dance. He spun around Danny and pulled Danny along with him, unrestricted by gravity and the slow steps humans had to take. It felt graceful, effortless, like flying. Danny didn’t have to worry about knowing the steps to a waltz, he just had to enjoy the ride. He grinned out of reflex and relaxed into the dance, allowing Phantom to twirl and spin them around each other. The slow song ended and a faster, more upbeat song began. He laughed, and Phantom echoed him. Sam had won her protest.

Phantom spun Danny out and pulled him back in without Danny needing to do anything more than hold onto his hand, but without being able to see Phantom or Phantom him, Danny crashed into Phantom’s chest with a little grunt of surprise. 

“I suppose,” Phantom said, his own voice light with cheer, “we’re high enough no one will notice us if we’re only transparent?”

Given the frequent ghost attacks, Danny doubted they would go unnoticed for long, the humans were too well-trained by this point, but what was life without risks? He wanted to see Phantom, not just feel him.

So even though he knew it was a mistake (and Phantom probably did too), Danny nodded and said, “Yeah, that should work.”

The cold aura of Phantom’s powers still surrounded Danny, but a moment later, Phantom popped into sight. He was transparent, allowing Danny to see the lights and streamers through his head and chest, but there was enough definition there for him to make out his boyfriend’s pleased smile. Phantom’s white hair was messy—his hair was as resistant to being tamed as Danny’s, maybe worse due to the wind he regularly flew through—but he had dressed up in a tux. It wasn’t one Danny recognized, Phantom hadn’t stolen one from his closet, but then where had he gotten it?

It fit him surprisingly well…

Phantom’s smile widened, revealing sharper-than-normal teeth. “Let’s try this again.”

He swung Danny into motion. It was even easier for Danny to lose himself to the aerial dance than the first time. Danny could see Phantom’s expression, the softness in his eyes, the happy smile matching his own. They spun and twirled around each other, sometimes losing sight of one another, but always held together by their clasped hands. Danny laughed freely, unafraid of being heard over the loud, cheerful song.

So high above the other dancers, Danny saw only Phantom and the streamers hanging from the lights. They could have been dancing alone up there, surrounded by music and bright, shifting lights.

“When we can finally dance on the ground together,” Danny said, beaming as Phantom spun them around without any effort on Danny’s part, “I’m going to lead.”

Phantom laughed. “Only fair,” he agreed.

The song ended soon after. Another slow song took its place, and Danny swore he heard Sam cry out “Oh, come on!” but he didn’t mind. Before Phantom could settle them into position for another waltz—seriously, where had he learned to dance? From Dora?—Danny grabbed ahold of Phantom’s shoulder, let go of his hand, and set his other hand on his opposite shoulder. Phantom looked startled.

“You just place your hands on my waist,” Danny explained. “Then we sway to the music.”

Phantom followed his instructions, though his head tilted in confusion. “That simple?”

Danny smiled, feeling soft and warm inside. “Yeah. Most of us don’t know how to do those, uh, traditional dances. We just want to hold each other and let the music set the mood.”

And this song in particular suited Phantom. It was about finding your hero in someone unexpected; an old song, but Danny’s heart swelled as he and Phantom stared at each other. Phantom floated them in a gentle sway, no longer trying to match the beat. He looked as content as Danny felt, but soon his cheeks flushed green, and he looked down at the crowd.

“This song suits you,” he told Danny. “It’s like you’re singing to me.”

Danny widened his smile. He slipped his arm around Phantom’s neck, pulled him closer, and laid his head on his shoulder, his other hand sliding down to rest over his core. Sometimes he thought he could sense emotions from it, though at the moment he only felt it vibrating beneath his hand. Phantom encircled his arms around Danny’s waist and gently rested his cheek on Danny’s head. He continued to rock gently to the music, but it was even slower than before, as though Phantom wasn’t really thinking about the dance anymore.

Inevitably, it had to end.

“Oh my gosh!” someone shouted over the slow song. “Is that—that’s Phantom! Phantom is dancing with someone up there, look!”

Phantom swore and Danny tensed. Before Danny could lift his head from Phantom’s shoulder, Phantom lifted one hand and cupped the back of Danny’s head, pushing Danny’s face against his neck, hiding him.

“Ghost kid!” Jack shouted, sounding both excited and frustrated. After all, Jazz had convinced him and Maddie to leave all their ghost hunting equipment at home for just this reason.

Others began shouting too, disturbing the song to the point the DJ simply stopped playing it. Danny groaned.

“I doubt they will calm down even if I turn us invisible again,” Phantom whispered in Danny’s ear.

“Probably not,” Danny reluctantly agreed.

“Would you like to go somewhere else?”

“Where?”

“The park? I flew past on my way here. Fireflies were lighting up the walkways, but there weren’t very many people around.”

Danny’s breath caught. Leave the dance? Take a romantic walk through the park, just the two of them? That actually sounded so much better than attending prom, though he wouldn’t say no to dancing with Phantom again. “Yeah,” he said, a little breathless. “Yeah, let’s do that. We can walk toward a restaurant. I can buy you dinner, make this a proper date.”

Phantom laughed and then kissed Danny’s ear. “Sounds wonderful.”