#wanna write poetry through my lips on your whole body
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natkhat-sa-shyam · 8 months ago
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We kiss like there's a poetry and addiction on each other's lips
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kingofthe-egirls · 10 months ago
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TEXT ME: SHOYO x Y/N (part 2)
series
(cw: food/eating, fluff, shojo vibes)
(a/n: text conversation romance i swore i’d never write you)
words: 1.3k
****
so when are you coming to visit??
Shoyo texts with exclamation points and emojis. His enthusiasm for life shines through every sunny character.
You do your best to keep up.
this weekend?
Shoyo responds with a smiley face and the double exclamation points.
we should get ramen! 🍜
You’d met Shoyo at the practice match between Karasuno and Nekoma in Tokyo. Shoyo had stuck out to you as shiny, athletic, and sunny. His fiery orange hair and his scrawny-yet-sculpted physique, his brown eyes and intense stare…he’d caught your eye.
You’d become fast friends over text.
Seems like he’s most passionate about volleyball, spending most of his time either practicing or wishing he was practicing.
tonkotsu is my favorite
You lie back on your bed, phone held over your face.
🍜😺🍲💯‼️
You smile, and send back your own line of emojis. He’s sweet, and fun to talk to. He’s never boring.
You lick your lips.
so, do u have a gf?
(…)
You watch the ellipses appear and bounce as Shoyo types.
nooo
Sighing, you type in relief:
sweet! then it’s a date ;)
Shoyo types and stops. Retypes. Stops. You’re hypnotized by the text on your screen.
🫣😳‼️
And then,
okay!!!
You smirk.
bring flowers
🌺🌷💐🌼
You chew your lip, staring at your phone. You want to ask him more, pry him open, see what makes him tick. So you decide to press:
have you ever had a gf?
no, wbu?
ive had some boyfriends but nothing that lasted more than a month
You roll over onto your stomach, chin propped up on a pillow. Your ballet slippers phone charm clicks against the case. You toy with it, idling.
sorry about that but also im not sorry. since i wanna go on a date w u
Smiling, you hide your face in your pillow. It smells like lavender.
same
You have homework waiting on your desk, but that’s what morning bus rides are for.
what’s ur fav thing in the whole wide world?
Hinata asks such earnest things.
umm…ballet, i think
He responds quickly:
why??
You sigh, and think of how to answer. Your room’s fan spins lazily overhead. You kick your feet as you type.
it’s perfect. the shapes, the movements, it’s all so beautiful. plus it’s exercise and makes my body feel so good after and i really like pointe
You take a deep breath, sending the run-on sentences without editing.
it’s like music or poetry, but in my body. pointe feels especially challenging, but i like it 🩰
Shoyo types.
i like challenges too
****
Saturday comes after even more text conversations. You’d spent the week glued to your phone. Each text sends butterflies through you.
You’d learned about his little sister, his parents, the foods his family cooks (salmon and pork buns are his favorite).
In turn, he’d spoken with you about Kenma, your family’s pet cat, and your somewhat distant parents.
You’re standing in front of the ramen place you’d both decided on. You muse on what other questions you’d like to ask—favorite colors, animals, subjects in school—when the orange-haired boy himself bikes up beside you. He’s electric.
“Hiya,” you say, hands clasped behind your back. Shyness suddenly overtakes you, as he smiles and steps forward.
“Hey!” He locks his bike, and then fishes something out of the basket.
Sunflowers.
“Oh!” You say, delicately accepting the bouquet, “Oh my gosh…”
Shoyo scratches the back of his head. “Hope you like sun—“
He’s interrupted by a quick, tight hug from you. Your arms wrap around his thin, wiry frame, as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells like the sunflowers in your hand.
“I love them.”
You speak and then quickly step backward. Shoyo’s face is flushed a deep red, and judging by the heat searing your cheeks, your blush is just as bad. Smiling, you tuck a stray lock of hair behind an ear. “Sorry, I uh…didn’t actually expect flowers.”
He bustles up, cheeks puffed, “But you said to bring them!!”
“I know, I know,” you smile, “It makes me happy you did.” You bury your face in the flowers and inhale.
They smell like spring.
****
“Let’s eat!”
Shoyo exclaims before digging into his bowl of ramen. Your own steaming bowl sits in front of you: pork and scallions and hard-boiled eggs. Mmm…
“This is so good!” Shoyo picks his bowl up to sip the broth, “Like, really good!”
You smile, slurping up noodles with a hum. “Ramen was a good idea.”
“Mhmm!!!”
You sit and eat for a moment. It’s an easy silence. Shoyo is someone who you don’t have to feel awkward around. His expressions are honest, and he always says whatever he’s thinking.
“So…,” you start, toying with your chopsticks, “What’s so great about volleyball?”
Shoyo lights up.
“It’s the best!! You get to run around and play on a team, and your friends are all there supporting you!” He pauses to wipe broth off his face with the back of his hand. He’s excited and flushed, eyes wide and shining.
You sigh, picking at noodles. “I wish ballet was more of a team sport. It’s really beautiful, dancing with friends, but it’s not like a team or anything. No one’s gonna support me in a pirouette,” you say, scratching the back of your head.
Shoyo cocks his head.
Wow,
His stare is intense.
“Why don’t you play a team sport?”
You shrug.
“Ballet takes most of my energy, aside from schoolwork.” You bite your lip, “Besides, I’m already so in love with ballet. I can’t ever imagine stopping dancing. It makes me too happy. Even when my hips hurt and my toes sting, it doesn’t matter,” you lift your chin to meet Shoyo’s amber eyes, “Because it means I got to dance ballet.”
Shoyo stares.
And then his face cracks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.
“That’s why I love volleyball!!”
You both smile and laugh, happy to have found such a common thread.
Shoyo slurps up the last of his pork broth. “When do you have your next game—or uh, performance?” He smiles sheepishly. “I dunno all the lingo, hah…”
He’s cute when he’s shy.
“Recital,” you say for him, “And the next one is in three months! I have a solo part…,” you say nervously. Shoyo lights up, chopsticks in hand and broth on his chin.
“Solo!? That sounds super cool!”
You nod, sheepish. “It’s the Rose Fairy from The Nutcracker! I come out in the Waltz of the Flowers, and I get to do a bunch of spinny stuff with the male dancers,” You chew your lip, “I guess it is sort of a team sport, doing partner work like that,” You tap your chin, “Since they technically are helping me with pirouettes!”
Shoyo falters for a moment, lips pursed. “What’s this about male dancers?” His cheeks are flushed.
You smile,
you can’t help it.
“Here,” you say, and show a YouTube video of the waltz. His expression only darkens. He watches the men help the Rose Fairy spin across the stage—each man helping her with an impressive move. “My favorite is this promenade,” you point out.
Hinata frowns.
“All these…guys are gonna be touching you?” He asks with a pout.
You snicker.
“Jealous?”
Hinata nods fiercely.
“Yes!”
You burst out laughing. “None of these dudes are interested in me,” you assure him, “It’s just part of the dance.”
He still doesn’t look pleased.
“Of course they might be interested in you! You’re the prettiest girl in the world!”
You smile behind your hand. Even so, your face is burning hot from his complement. He sits up with his arms crossed. “I wanna be the one to help you peer-oh-wet!” He sounds out the French. (It’s so cute, you could die.)
“Well…,” you drum your fingertips on the table, “I usually rent the studio for an hour each week to rehearse on my own. If you want, you could join me! I’ll teach you,” you say. Shoyo immediately brightens.
“Mkay!”
****
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spencersawkward · 4 years ago
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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*
summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.
pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer
content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 
word count: 5.4k
A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 
request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌
can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?
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"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 
"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 
"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 
it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 
"you should bring one of your other friends." 
"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 
"I thought that was just me." he says. 
"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."
you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.
"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 
Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 
you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 
he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 
you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.
eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 
"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 
"yeah?" 
"go to bed."
"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 
"I could hear your breathing change." 
"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 
"I wanted to say goodnight." 
it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  
"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 
"now I can't because you made it weird." 
"how did I make it weird?" 
"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.
"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 
"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 
"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  
a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."
"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 
he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 
Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 
the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 
which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 
as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 
you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 
your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 
you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 
you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 
you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 
you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 
you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 
...
Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 
he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 
every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 
truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 
there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 
after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 
and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 
he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 
"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 
he definitely has a concussion. 
"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 
"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 
Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 
he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 
he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 
he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 
Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 
it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.
"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"
...
you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 
"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 
"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 
of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 
when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 
"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  
"hi." 
"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 
"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 
you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 
"Y/N, I'm really fine." 
"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 
"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 
"sounds like a nightmare." 
"it is." he cracks up. 
"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 
"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 
"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 
"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."
"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 
"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 
"oof." you wince. 
"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"
"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 
"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 
"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 
"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 
you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 
Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 
"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 
"you already said that." 
"shut up." 
"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 
"whatever. you care about me, too." 
he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 
your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"
"mhmm." he hums. 
"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 
"I'd hope not."
"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 
"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 
"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 
"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  
"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 
"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 
"like?" now you're intrigued. 
"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 
"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 
Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 
you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 
"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 
it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 
"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 
"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 
it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 
your heart swells. 
"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.
"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 
"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 
when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 
"I'm in love with you, too." 
his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"
"yes." you nod. 
he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 
"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 
"I'd say so, yeah." 
he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 
"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 
you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 
there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 
never like this. 
one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 
the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 
you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 
"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 
"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 
"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 
"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 
his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 
soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 
"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 
you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 
your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 
you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 
Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 
"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 
you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  
"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 
you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.
he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 
before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 
"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 
"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."
he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 
"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 
"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 
"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 
"mhmm." 
"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 
"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 
"I'm a virgin." you say. 
Spencer frowns. "really?" 
"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 
"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"
"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 
"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 
"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 
"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 
"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 
"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 
"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 
"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 
you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  
"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 
"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 
"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 
"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 
"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 
"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.
he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 
his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 
"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 
"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 
you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 
Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 
you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 
"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 
"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 
it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 
you collapse fully, him still inside. 
neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 
"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 
"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 
"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 
"we should try multiple times." 
he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 
he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 
"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 
"yeah." 
“good.”
taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 
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nishymoon · 3 years ago
Text
Move Your Body ♦
【 This is the Chapter 11 of my Chishiya x OC fanfiction, “The Sound of Hearts”! ♠ This is chapter is only NSFW! ♦ For all other chapters, I leave here the link —> AO3 ♠ For the Italian version ----> Wattpad ♦ Last thing, there will be some references to songs, one is Sia - "Move Your Body" and the other is Katy Perry - "Dark Horse"! ♠ Music always accompanies me and I like to insert it - every now and then - in what I write, moreover, Sia is my favorite singer while my favorite group is Skillet, in fact I'm thinking of including them in some chapter in the future.♦】
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    The Sound of Hearts - Chapter 11 - Move Your Body      
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The days passed and Evaine's physical condition improved visibly. It took her only three days to fully recover under the care of Chishiya and Ann but she was "forced" by both of them to rest for more days. Now, after six days, almost a week of solitary and absolute rest, she has completely recovered and the wound has healed, leaving only an old memory of what happened in their minds. Over the course of the days, her friends and people who love her have come every day to visit and help her.
Locked in her room, she can't wait to be able to enjoy her evening at the pool with a party dedicated to her. Although the party starts in four hours, the music has already been turned on on the ground floor and easily audible thanks to the open window of their shared room. The loud music bounces between the walls of the room, carefully chosen by the Hatter, it is a party dedicated to the Mini Mori, therefore, there must be the right music, with the right preparations. This is the reason for their large advance in setting up everything. Evaine starts to sing, moving in time and barefoot on the carpet in the center of the room while Sia's song "Move Your Body" is played. One of her favorite songs of hers.
«Your body's poetry, speak to me... Won't you let me be your rhythm tonight?... Move your body, move your body!»
She continues to sing with her eyes closed, she wants to empty herself of all the accumulated tension and stress, convinced of the fact that she is not very graceful in movement and does not even care that she is. But the guy who's looking at her in a rather interested way doesn't think the same way. He watches her with a sly smile as she dances sinuously as if she were a belly dancer, her red hair following her every movement, even blown by the wind coming through their window.
«I wanna be your muse, use my music... And let me be your rhythm tonight... Move your body, move your body!»
She loves to sing and he knows this very well, but it is the first time that he has the pleasure of being able to see her so serene, for a moment he felt like he was no longer a resident of Borderland. Besides, he had never seen her dance. The music changes at that moment and she Evaine stops only to turn completely towards him. Her heartbeat speeds up as soon as her eyes meet his dark ones, he has a smug look on his face, he must have enjoyed the show to the full. And as always... he is so undeniably attractive.
«Oh... Were you enjoying the spectacle of my ballet coupled with my new bathing suit?» «Probably... and you shouldn't rest?» «I've rested enough, I haven't done anything else for days!»
She snorts in amusement as she approaches him, wrapping her arms around his neck, Chishiya's hand pleasantly tickling her side. She starts swaying her hips slightly as the new song enters their ears.
«Make me your Aphrodite... Make me your one and only... But don't make me your enemy...»
She brings her face close to Chishiya's, brushing his lips and humming the words of that song. All this without ever taking her gaze from his wonderful eyes. Eyes that are watching her as if they are studying her deep inside her, making her whole body tremble. For a split second, Eveina felt like he had glimpsed her soul.
«So you wanna play with magic?... Boy, you should know whatcha falling for... Baby, do you dare to do this?... 'Cause I'm coming at you like a dark horse.»
He snorts amused against her lips, taking a half step forward so as to brush his pelvis with hers. He's not good at dancing and he's not going to try but he likes to see her so peaceful and relaxed. Evaine raises her eyes to observe his hair, smiling pleased to find it perfectly dry, he really worked hard to fix it: «What a beautiful hair... I almost forgive you for watching me dance in an embarrassing way.»
«Embarrassing is not the term I would use, you were very graceful... and sensual.» - He smiles, barely biting her lip: «And... I've prepared something for you too, it's not a pool party but... I'm sure you'll appreciate it very much.»
He kisses her with an exhausting but at the same time terribly exciting slowness as he pushes her towards him, dragging her towards the bed. Evaine backs away, turning those kisses into something more heated as she finds herself locked in his arms. He reluctantly breaks away from her only to be able to give her a simple and concise order.
«As beautiful as this costume is... you have to take it off. Now.»
In response, Evaine bites her lip, looking at him as if she were daring him to say something more. She loves when he does that. She turns her face away from him just so she can feel Chishiya's fingers touching her chin, stroking her lightly and forcing her to turn around to look at him.
«I gave you an order, Evaine.» «You know the Nishimiro are not obedient people.» «But with me, yes, you always obey me, don't you?»
Eve's body quivers as if she's purring him and he smiles smugly, aware of her next response.
«Only in bed.» «And that's how I like you.»
Evaine detaches herself slightly from him, taking off her costume with a disarming slowness without ever losing eye contact with him, then throwing her new costume on the soft carpet. For now she doesn't need her, she can stay there too. She can feel Chishiya's gaze touch her deep inside her, he gazes at her spellbound, as if she is the most beautiful person in this world because to him she really is. She is perfect. «Good darling... she is now wearing this and lie down... I'll take care of the rest.»
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an eye mask, the ones usually used for sleeping. Evaine smiles, this is definitely a new thing for them: «Oh... I'm pleased to note that you played early.»
«Like always.»
He approaches her, being careful not to mess her up - a promise impossible to keep regardless - and slips the mask over her head, then making it go down further, understanding her eyes. He takes her hand and makes her sit on the bed: «Come here honey... lie down.»
Without having to repeat it twice, Evaine lies on her back, her head sinking into her soft pillow and her arms abandoned on her head, as if tied by an invisible thread. She sees absolutely nothing, she only hears the sound of Chishiya closing the window - with the music still present inside the room in the background - she hears him taking things from one of the bedside drawers and taking off his sweatshirt. Now she is completely in his hands. In his beautiful and expert hands. She opens her legs instinctively as soon as she feels a weight on the bed, she feels him positioning himself better in front of her and placing things next to him.
«Good darling, you've already positioned your arms well.» - His amused voice echoes in her mind: «Now, focus on my voice and on what I'm about to do to you...»
His tone of voice is something surprisingly attractive and that alone is enough to get her excited. He slides on her body, leaning forward, caresses her lips with his fingertips, tracing their beautiful contours and Evaine nibbles them slowly, without hurting him too much. Hs hand then slides down her stretched and exposed throat, applying light pressure with his fingers as he brings his lips to her ear.
«Keep being good...»
His fingers move around her, grabbing her chin and almost forcing her to open her mouth wider and kissing her passionately without waiting a second longer. She obeys and opens her mouth, opening her lips gently and allowing his tongue to invade her mouth without hesitation. Evaine moans in his kiss, lifting her pelvis, bumping against his, still covered in his swimsuit and Chishiya smiles amused to see her already so impatient for him. His hand slips away from her chin to caress her side, sliding onto her breast, squeezing it and she arches even more as his fingers stimulate her sensitive nipple, torturing it with his thumb. Eve pulls away from his mouth just to be able to moan better from her pleasure and Chishiya bites her lower lip and immediately after kisses her softly, his fingertips starting to twist her nipple. With his lips he slides along her neck, biting and licking it, feeling Evaine's body stir under him. He leaves more kisses as he sinks onto her chest, taking the other hard nipple between his lips and sucking it. Eve moans louder, ecstatic, hearing Chishiya giggle at her nipple.
«Did you miss all this?» «Too much...»
The fingers that were playing with her nipple slide down her belly, tracing the gentle curve of her hip with his fingers, getting closer and closer to where Eve is craving it most. Piano runs his fingers over her wet femininity, caresses her gently and Evaine trembles, lowering her arm to be able to look for him, touch with trembling hands but his order is peremptory and she feels his hand detach from her intimacy to take her wrist, forcing her to keep her arms firmly above her head.
«I don't think I said anything to you.» «I want to touch you...» «You will, Honey, but not now.»
His fingers going back to her sex, using them to give her pleasure and easily find the most sensitive part of her, starting to stimulate her slowly, wetting his fingers and making her even more eager. His fingers penetrate her without hesitation, finding her already warm and wet, sucking her nipple again as she instinctively pushes her pelvis forward against his fingers in a chase gesture, she move selling herself to follow his movements.
«I beg you...» «Exactly... move for me... Nishimiro.»
He slowly moves his fingers inside her, lifting his face to get closer to her and Eve is no longer able to think of anything but him, his voice and his pressing movements. He rubs hos face on her neck, biting it like a willing cat and smiling at every jolt of her body. Evaine gasps as she feels his fingers take on a firmer, faster pace as her orgasm works its way into her.
«I am going to-» «Come, come for me.»
He comes out with his fingers only to be able to re-enter them more deeply and Evaine squirms against him for his intrusion, while another finger is added to one of his fingers. Chishiya kisses her throat and Eve feels her entire body shaking from the orgasm he just gave him, sliding out of her shortly after.
«Good Love.» - He whispers against the skin of her neck with a pleased and satisfied tone, his intense voice vibrates inside her and for a moment, she is convinced that she heard him purr: «Stay still like this, Honey.»
He gets up from her leaving her tender kisses on her chin, neck, chest and then admires that body so sinuous and eager for him and only him. He bends down again to kiss her belly and hears Eve sigh heavily: «What a perfect body... and it's all mine.»
He nibbles her side and then goes back to sprinkle her belly with kisses until he goes deeper: «But I admit you're begging me a little too little for my taste, we have to fix it.»
Eve opens her thighs even more and arches her hips towards him, waiting for his next move. Chishiya goes down with his kisses until he gets to the point that she most desires it, leaving a light kiss on her clit but this is not enough to give her pleasure. Evaine growls her disappointment at his gesture but is well aware of what he is waiting for from her right now.
«Please... please... I need it...» - Her trembling voice comes from her lips, followed by a moan from her as soon as she feels her tongue caressing her clit, tasting and teasing her.
He creeps further down and takes possession of her femininity completely, sinks his tongue into her sex, several times, stimulates her with his fingers and then returns to delight her clitoris making her moan even more, enraptured and delighted by his every movement that causes such intense pleasure. His tongue slides down again, penetrates her slowly and then comes out and back again on her clitoris as he squeezes and caresses her thigh with his hand. He detaches himself from her but only to take something, the same object that he had placed next to him before starting it all. Completely devoid of sight, Eve can only imagine but her mind is in a total state of ecstasy, too overwhelmed with pleasure to think. She feels Chishiya's fingers massaging her labia of the vagina and then opening them, keeping them open gently as he slowly insinuates the tip of something into her warmest center and at that point everything takes a different turn in Eve's mind, connecting the various pieces and understanding immediately everything. It's a dildo, taken on a dull day as they walked around Tokyo's deserted streets together. They had never used toys and Chishiya wanted to see what effect they would have on Eve and... she was also very curious to try it on herself. Driven by this curiosity, they decided to take it, to try something new during oral sex. They wanted to use it long ago but due to Evaine's injury, it remained locked in the drawer. Until now.
«Oh my God... Chishy-» - She moans about her, feeling the dildo make its way through her, stimulating her, spreading her and preparing her for him: «More... please...»
She feels it slightly wet, Chishiya lubricated it before penetrating her with it. Although Evaine is ready for him and she doesn't need to be lubricated, he doesn't want to take the risk of hurting her, that's why with the dildo they also taken some lubricant. To avoid any kind of pain and it is always better to lubricate the games before using them.
The dildo enters completely inside her, he starts moving it gently and then takes a more intense, faster rhythm and Eve screams with pleasure, lifting her pelvis and trying to move it to follow all of his thrusts.
«Honey... if that's the effect, we definitely have to take more toys... I'm really curious how you will react with other.» - He smiles bringing his mouth to her clit, licking it while with the dildo he continues to move inside her.
As it turns out, it's an edible lube, Chishiya has thought of everything. As always, on the other hand. Evaine had no doubts about it and she will never have any, he is always very precise and attentive. But this combo ravages her, she already feels her next orgasm ravage her senses. She would like to reach out and touch his head, poking her fingers through his beautiful, soft hair... but she doesn't do it because he wasn't told to. Instead of this, she moans louder, begging him to continue. Chishiya notices all this, responding by sucking harder and mercilessly pushing the dildo deeper inside her, pleasantly hitting her g-spot.
«Oh yes... Chishiya... beseech you-»
Her orgasm is powerful enough to leave her open-mouthed, her clit is so sensitive that even his warm breath can make her moan and tremble. Pleased with his result, Chishiya raises his face to find her still with her arms raised, she has not broken down in the slightest from her initial position because he has not told her that she could do it. He smiles, satisfied by that sight as erotic as it is delicate.
«So obedient...» - He kisses the inside of her thigh and Eve trembles slightly, feeling all her muscles relax after her orgasm with the dildo still deep inside her.
«You can take off the blindfold Honey, you deserve it.» «Thank you...»
She doesn't even know why she thanked him, that word sounds immediately after her so stupid in her ears while instead Chishiya finds it extremely tender, especially for the tone of voice with which she has just pronounced it. Trembling, she removes the blindfold, placing it beside her. She lowers her gaze only to see the blonde very satisfied with his work, with his hand holding the dildo safely, carefully removing it and then returning inside her making her moan. Eve's eyes widen as Chishiya turns it on and feels it vibrate inside her as he nibbles her inner thigh. He resumes a steady rhythm while Evaine moans, without strength, but as soon as her body gets used to that sensation, Chishiya removes the dildo from inside her, opening her femininity with his fingers and placing the vibrator on top of her too sensitive clit.
«Shun-» - She shakes without even being able to say his name in full, the sudden sensation on her clit sends her completely haywire.
Chishiya barely holds back a small amused smile as he gazes at her contentedly: «I think I just broke you.»
She feels it moving on her clit, the vibration is too much to bear, she moans and squirms desperately as another orgasm makes its way inside her. Chishiya stops moving the dildo, leaving it still as Evaine tries to fight against that overwhelming sensation.
«Move your hips for me, Honey.»
But currently Evaine is in total ecstasy and she doesn't listen to him. Chishiya gets up, getting closer to her, placing his hand a few inches from her face, sinking into the pillow to support his weight: «Eve...»
His voice sounds so serious and Eveina can't help but return his gaze as the dildo continues to vibrate on her.
«Move. Your. Body.» - He scans her, observing her as if he wants to penetrate her with his gaze and Eve feels completely lost in him.
And it's amazing the effect his words have on her, she starts to move her pelvis, rubbing against the dildo and obeying his request, moaning louder as her orgasms getting closer. Chishiya's beautiful lips stretch into a mischievous and satisfied smile: «Exaclty, like that.»
He leans over her, kissing her neck, biting her, sucking her as her throat vibrates from the moans he is causing her. He makes his way to her mouth, kissing her almost ravenously, digging his tongue between her lips as her orgasm comes, as powerful as the previous ones. The vibrator switches off, giving a little respite to the girl who tries to catch her breath, now completely melted under him. Chishiya stands up, placing the dildo on the bedside table, then removing the only garment he was still wearing, the swimsuit. He turns to her to look at her triumphantly, tries to sit next to her but Eve doesn't give him a chance to do so. Standing in front of the edge of the bed, Evaine strokes towards him, bringing one of her hands over his erection and massaging it, wiping the pre-ejaculatory drop with the pad of her thumb.
«I want to reciprocate...» - She smiles at him pleased as she leans towards him, her warm breath caressing the tip of his erection as she gently welcomes it with her tongue, stopping the movement of her hand and he emits a low moan but clearly audible to his ears.
«Evaine..» - That low growl vibrates like a prayer to Eve's ears, enticing her to continue licking it all the way up and over her, up to her hot tip.
Her lips part to welcome him in her mouth and he moans deeply, twitching in front of her. His moans have a powerful effect on her, increasing her desire to hear him moan for her again. She leans forward, sliding down the sat a length and wetting him with her saliva as she looks up to be able to look him in the eye. Chishiya strokes her hair, before squeezing it firmly in his fingers, guiding her even though she doesn't have the slightest need. Already alone she is able to give him pleasure.
«Yes... so... good darling...»
He starts moving inside her mouth, trying to catch her rhythm with the girl's movements. Evaine moves her hand back up and down his length, feeling his breath grow more and more. With her other hand instead, she begins to touch her still sensitive clitoris, moaning on him. His pelvis is perfectly in her rhythm along with Evaine's movements and Chishiya can feel her moans vibrating through his erection, a wonderful sensation and this was definitely the coup de grace for him. He stops her, pulling her hair lightly to pull her away from him, noticing her puzzled look.
«Why did you stop me?» «Because I can't resist you a second longer.» - He observes her and Eve sees in his dark eyes only the strong desire to unite even more with her: «Lie down. Now.»
Evaine moves away from him and without letting herself repeat it twice, she lies down again on the soft mattress of their double bed. Chishiya climbs onto the bed, taking the pillow next to her: «Lift your pelvis, Honey.»
Eve looks at him confused, but follows his order without hesitation, lifting her pelvis and feeling the pillow slip under her, making sure she can sit on top of it. Now her pelvis is higher and tilted and will allow him to penetrate her deeper. Having a boyfriend who studies medicine has the advantages, for example, together with Ann they recently discovered that here in Borderldand... one cannot conceive children. No woman has ever become pregnant because apparently it is impossible to stay there. And it's much better this way, having children in a hideous place like this is not in their life plans.
Chishiya positions himself in front of her, her legs wonderfully open and ready for him: «Trust me.»
He whispers as he bends over her to suck her neck, placing the tip of his erection in her entrance and he is immediately greeted by her sweet warmth. With a slow thrust he invades her again, slowly in such a way as to give her time to get used to his intrusion. He feels her tilt her pelvis towards him again and he smiles at her red throat.
«You are very good, Honey.» - He nibbles her neck as he continues to make his way into her: «I was just going to tell you to tilt your pelvis for me.»
Evaine moans softly as he sinks again, opening it to welcome him all the way down. His lips caress her throat, tickling her with his breath and his beautiful ash blonde hair, deeply enjoying every contraction of her body. Her sex welcomes him all in depth, opening up for him, moaning at the sublime feeling of being finally united. He moves inside her slowly before picking up on his rhythm, followed by Eve's body that doesn't stop imitating his movements and soon Evaine comes back to beg for him.
«Please... please...» «Please what, Love?» «Faster...»
Chishiya picks up the pace of his thrusts and Eve squeezes even tighter on his sex, ready for her next orgasm. Her curvy body trembles at her, unable to arch even more for him, her throat covered with his kisses as he lifts her thigh for even deeper penetration.
 «More...»
The hand with which he holds her thigh slides further down, until he finds her clitoris and between one thrust and the other he begins to stimulate her slowly, hearing her desperate moaning his name and bringing her closer to her next orgasm. She stretches her body against Chishiya's as if she wants to merge with him and slides an arm forward to encircle his neck and when her hand finds his hair, he lets her fingers free the pleasure of sinking between the locks. He lifts his head, letting go her neck as he feels her tighten around him in a spasm and there is nothing more beautiful in the world to see her come like this for him. He doesn't give her time to bask in her intense pleasure as soon as Chishiya grabs her by her hips, lifting her up and forcing her to climb on top of him.
«I want to look at your beautiful body while she takes me like this... understand?»
Evaine, still upset by this sudden change of position, tries to get straighter as his erection pulses warm inside of her, shocked by the pleasure she felt a few seconds before and which she is still trying to process. Chishiya moves his hips, hitting her g-spot mercilessly and making her moan in despair and almost making her fall on top of him.
«I asked you a question, Evaine. Answer me.» «Yes, yes...»
Her hips begin to move, first slowly then faster and faster, making this rhythm her own and her firm breasts follow the movements of her body in such a sensual and harmonious way while Chishiya still holds her firmly by the hips. Her body moves elegantly as if a goddess is dancing above him. Or rather, for him. He lifts himself up, rotating his pelvis to her rhythm, facilitating Evaine's orgasm... and his too. He puts a hand on the full, firm curve of her butt, squeezing and lifting it while his other arm wraps her, forcing her to lie completely on top of him as she relentlessly hits her favorite spot. Her breasts are pressed against his chest and their hearts seem to almost beat in unison.
«Shuntarō I... I...»
Her sex contracts, her body trembles as he feels him push hard before coming with her and exhausted, he brings her other arm around her too, closing her in her arms and squeezing her as if he did not want to let her escape. But she would never run away from him, that is the safest place in the world for her, her refuge. Their breaths synchronized, both trying to catch their breath with Chishiya still inside her.
«Thanks doctor... I definitely needed it.»
Chishiya laughs amused as he gently exits from inside her, flipping her to the side so that he can easily look into her eyes: «I'm not a doctor yet.»
Evaine smiles, satisfied, leaning forward to give him a kiss under the eye where his small mole is present, and then snuggling better in his arms and against his chest: «It doesn't matter, I love you and I would have loved you anyway , with or without a degree.»
Chishiya caresses the contours of her face, observing her in her eyes and wondering how he managed to conquer such a beautiful and sweet person. So perfect. Never breaking eye contact, he tells her what he'd wanted to tell her for a long time.
«I love you, Evaine.»
               ♦ ♠ ♥ ♣
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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years ago
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George Weasley — 5th December
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Summary:  You read him a poem as he laid on your chest, loving the sound of your voice.
Words: 1,870 words
Warnings: Major Fluff, I Blushed So Hard so You Shall Too, George Weasley Supremacy 2.0, Makes You Wish You Can Shift Sooner So You Could Have This Moment With Him, So Floofy It Hurts Physically
Disclaimer: S i g h. I am just so in love with this man. The way I blushed so hard through this entire thing is obvious enough I will never love someone as much as I love this 6′3 ginger dork. Ooh, also the poem is mine, I wrote it thinking of George fdhfhjks I’m actually so so nervous to show you guys my poem so I really hope you enjoy it!
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“Hey, flower,” George greeted you as soon as he walked in your dorm, seeing you leaning against your headboard, scribbling onto your notebook. He hadn’t seen you at all today, and your friends had told him you had called in sick, so right after dinner, he snuck some leftover food and went straight to your dorm.  
“Hello, mysterious handsome man,” You teased and laughed at him narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “How’s your fever, love?” He asked as he walked closer, giving you a sweet forehead kiss. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips on your skin, sighing in content, “Much better since Madam Pomfrey gave me some potions to drink. They were ghastly, to be honest.” 
George chuckled at your fake vomiting, slightly relieved that you were still his same, silly flower. 
He sat at the edge of the bed, right beside you as he held a tray of leftover food he had picked out, there were cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, gummy worms, and a bowl of mushroom soup, which when you saw the thick creamy food you gasped, “They had mushroom soup today?!”
The next couple of hours were spent with you and him eating together in bed, you listening to his day today, Fred and Lee had tried to convince him to put some explosive powder into your mushroom soup earlier—you gasped in mock offense—luckily he said no, not wanting to be accidentally murdered in his bed at midnight—you nodded in agreement, he laughed—and the two friends wished you well. 
You instantly snatched the bowl and groaned at the taste of the soup on your tongue. George chuckled, “Yeah, reckon you would like a bowl of ‘em in bed.”
“You’re kidding? I would love to have it in bed, blimey you’re the best boyfriend ever, thank you, Georgie.” You gushed as you gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek, which he laughed loudly at.
And you told him about yours, about how ghastly this morning was that you had woken up in cold sweats and practically had to crawl out of your bed to call your friend for help—he was frowning so hard—and Madam Pomfrey had visited you twice during the day, giving you some potions and brought you some food to regain your energy—George planned to surprise Madam Pomfrey with sweets the next day as a thank you—and you spent the rest of your day writing.
“What were you writing? Another poem?” George asked, he had known you had a passion for writing ever since you were little. It doesn’t matter what kind of writing it was, you do everything. From poetry to short stories to even some of Hogwart’s news articles, you love everything there is about writing. Even songwriting, George had to close his mouth manually when he found out you could actually compose songs and sing, he thought he’s had enough reasons to love you as it is when turns out there are more and he’s more pleased to discover all of them over time with you.
“You’re right, actually. I missed you a lot today, so I wrote it for you,” You said with a small smile, eyes tearing away from George shyly. 
George had sworn his heart stopped beating for like 5 seconds.
“For me? Really?” He whispered in awe, his smile widening at your blushing cheeks. George was absolutely sure his face was the same hue as his hair at the moment, but his heart was leaping in too much joy to actually care. Seeing you before him trying to hide your heavy blush and trying so hard to contain a big grin with your teeth on your bottom lip had his whole knees weak. You looked mad adorable and all George wished to do at the moment was shrink you into pocket-sized and keep you in his pocket forever.
“I-I mean, no one has written me poems before…” He trailed off, his hand brushing the nape of his neck, feeling extremely giddy and extremely happy. He was usually the one who made you this way, blushing and stuttering, but when it’s your turn, he almost died out of heart attack each time.
“Well, you’re going to be surprised when I tell you that every love poem I’ve written, I thought of you.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at his widened eyes, flushed cheeks, with a giddy grin on his lips.
There it is; the heart attack.
“Well I would love to hear you read it for me—excuse me, madam, coming through,” He said, shuffling on the bed closer to you, laying between your legs, his back on your chest and his head on your shoulder perfectly; as if your body was molded solely to hold him this way, and George wouldn’t agree more. You laughed as he finally leaned onto you, sighing in content as he did. You pulled the blanket so it could drape the both of you perfectly, and you leaned your cheek to his forehead. 
“Alright, but warning, it’s very very mushy,” You warned, and he smiled a bit wider, “All the more reasons to read it then.” 
You reached the leather brown notebook at your other side, flipping the page easily to where you want it due to the lilac feather quill resting between the tea-colored pages, acting as a bookmark.
Your arm beside George rested on his head, massaging his scalp gently as he liked it. George hummed in content as he leaned onto your neck, feeling very comfortable. The warmth from your body behind him and the heavy blanket draped across you both felt so comfortable that he didn’t want to move, ever.
“This is the first poem, I call it 5th December,” You said, and George opened his eyes, “Why 5th December? Isn’t that like, 10 days ago?” You chuckled, “Yeah, I first wrote it then, but I finished it today.” George hummed in understanding, “Go on then.”
“I’m not very good at reciting poems, so excuse me if it doesn’t sound right.” You said and George dramatically sighed, “You’re stalling, love. And even if you say it most horribly, I’ll still love it because you wrote it.”
“Aww, Georgie,” You cooed, kissing his forehead causing him to crack a smile. “Okay, okay, here it goes.” You said and George had his eyes on the notebook you’re holding, scribbles of black lines and paragraphs filled every page.
“Awh, darling.” George cooed and kissed your cheek, causing you to stifle a giggle before going back into reciting mode.
“If you ask what my birthday wish was,
I simply could not tell you because
I don’t wanna say it’s wanting you with me laying down the grass
Together at night with the company of the stars.”
As you read the words, George found himself getting flutters in his stomach. He was so focused now, wanting to hear more of your voice and this poem combined, because to him, there is no such beauty that could compare. All that matters to him as of that moment, was you.
“If you ask what my falling star wish was
I shall simply shake my head just because
It’s hard to describe wanting you by my side each and every night
Taking your hand in mine and waking up with you next in line.”
You looked at him, and George was already looking at you with full adoration. He looked so mesmerized and amazed, you smiled at this; how adorable. You closed the notebook, you had already memorized every line as you had read it over and over for the past day, getting butterflies in your heart as you thought of George every time. With your eyes on him, your soft voice recited the poem again.
“If you ask what my new year’s wishlist was
I would simply put my lips together because
I couldn’t tell you it’s wanting to travel the world with you
And just try together everything new and spend time with you.”
George was in a trance. The beautiful words you crafted together were meant just for him. The poem you shared with him was because of you thinking about him. At that moment, George had thought of something he never would’ve thought during his past relationships. 
“If you ask what my clover wish was
I would just laugh and tell you no because
I wish to touch every inch of you every second with all my will
For your lips against mine, I shall need no happy pill.”
He wanted to spend his entire life with you, and no one else but you. He wanted to live with you, to be with you during thick and thin. Because… Because he loves you.
As you finished it, you gave him a gentle smile. There was a silent moment from the both of you, the only sound was the raindrops outside the window, the rhythmic splatter of water was therapeutic, to say the least.
“And if you ask, why won’t you tell me anything of you wished for
Let’s talk about it over a nice cup of tea just brewed
I shall say with the love in my eyes a secret till forevermore
That if I simply say it to you, then none of them would come true.”
You took your time to look at George’s face. Sometimes you had marveled at the fact that you could get this ridiculously beautiful man to be yours, to like you for who you are, to accept each and every quirk you have without any feeling of annoyance or disgust by them. 
This ridiculously beautiful man, with lush and soft ginger hair, light colored long eyelashes, the stunning color of brown for eyes, and peach-hued freckles decorating his face like footsteps of an elegant ballerina on stage.
“I am so lucky,” Was all George could breathe out as he leaned upwards, engulfing you into a passionate kiss. George loved every single moment when he kisses you, your lips are nicotine at its best, and he would drop everything to be an addict, an slave for you; for thousands of eternities if he could.
His hands had found the back of your neck, pulling it closer to his direction, deepening the kiss. You closed your eyes to relish the moment, your hands already found their place at each side of his jawline, hungrily pulling him closer to you.
When you pulled away, your lips were ghosting each other, his hard breaths hit your swollen lips softly. “What exactly are you lucky for, Weasley?” You breathed out, still panting softly, the smile on your lips grew as it mirrored the lovestruck smile on his lips.
He kissed your nose, and the rosy cheeks returned, “For you, for the poem, for you reading the poem, for you writing the poem while thinking of me,” You giggled and he joined with a chuckle, a soft smile on his face, “For everything. I love you, my flower.”
“I love you too,” you bit your lips, trying your hardest to contain a smile, “If this is what I get after reading you a poem then do you wanna hear the second one?” George laughed loudly; happy and content just being there with you.
TAGLIST:
“Oh, absolutely.”
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@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @hybridfamily @armageddon-riots @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel @evewithluv @softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @sarcasticallywitty15 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @imcedricdiggorys @bucketandpotato @klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @tummyfullofcummies @littlechillies @islmnlyswrthatushuturpieholeben @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @sosaysmendez @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti
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lordabovehelpme · 4 years ago
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Big Bear- Clyde Logan x Reader
Request: So we all know how the best nickname for Clyde is Bear. But how about the first time reader called him that? It doesn’t have to be a whole fic, it can totally be a headcanon or just a thought! Love you! - anon
A/n: Ahhh I love this!!! And I love you for sending this in!! I hope you enjoy! 
Summary: Everything he does reminds you of a bear, but you’ve never told him. What happens when the little nickname slips one night? 
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As soon as the comparison crosses your mind, it never leaves. It just makes so much sense. The way he get’s all huffy and rumbly in the mornings. Those pillowy lips of his pushed out into a pout and his eyes half closed yet sparkling when they see you. His grumbles will thunder down the halls as he tries to find you. Every morning it makes you think of a bear waking from hibernation a little too early. And every morning you’ll cup his cheek and stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to that pout. And his pout will slowly turn into a small smile.
It’s the way his giant hand wraps around your own, in fact your whole hand can fit in his palm. When he offers his hand out to you, you have to bite back your giggles at how he seems so similar to a bear offering his paw. And it’s not only his hands, it’s also his feet. Those large feet carrying him all around the world and barely fitting into his shoes. They also remind you of paws.
Then it’s the way he hugs you. Those big arms wrapping around your form and pulling you into a strong chest. If he’s behind you, he will rest his chin on the top of your head. Most often he’ll let an overdue sigh escape and relax around you, content with your touch. And if you could see his face, you would see closed eyes and a lazy smile. But if he’s facing you, then a kiss is pressed to your forehead before you are fully pulled in. Then he’ll tug you impossibly close to him and nearly tuck you away into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his waist and slide under his shirt, your nails lightly scratching at his back. Shivers will run up and down his spine and you’ll be pulled even closer, a purr vibrating from beneath his chest.
It’s also the way he eats. It’s like you never feed the man or like he’s never eaten before. He will shove as much as food as he can into his mouth and eat it so quickly. It’s a miracle he hasn’t choked and died yet. But you don’t mind it as much when he’ll give you a thumbs up, his eyes closed from happiness, and a smile with his cheeks puffed out with your cooking concoctions.
But all that good hearty food leads him to look like a bear. His shoulders are wide and nearly take up an entire doorway, muscle cushioning the bone and making a perfect spot for your head to lean on. His chest is broad and strong, pecs pulled taut and slightly protruding from his favorite (and your favorite) shirts. But when he takes those long deep breaths, he swells with air and grows before your eyes, you can’t deny the heat that rises to your cheeks.
However, your most favorite part (if you can even choose) is his tummy. It’s so soft that you literally cannot wait to run your hands over it every night. He’s fed well and you love that it shows. He used to hate it when you first started dating. You would wake up to find him gone, putting himself through various workouts, trying to burn it off. But over years of you telling him how much you love it and how it’s nothing to be ashamed of, he’s grown to like it. It tells you that he’s healthy and loved. And you both know he can’t refuse your baking, especially when you make those gooey apple pies.
The funniest comparison you’ve found though, is the way he sits. The way his entire body will fill any chair and his shoulders kind of slump. But it’s most apparent when he sits backwards on chairs, large thighs surrounding the back and his arms resting on his knees. One time when the two of you were watching a National Geographic Documentary on bears, they showed a scene of a bear sitting in a field. You happened to have looked over at Clyde during that scene, and had to bite your lips to stop from laughing. He was sitting in the exact same position. Your head went back and forth from the TV screen to your man bear on the couch, giggles hidden behind your hands. You could have put their pictures next to one another and said “Spot the difference.” Although, that wouldn’t have really worked because there was no difference.
But there’s something about how warm and cozy he is that really puts the icing on the cake. Countless nights you have found him on the couch, book in his large paw and cooling mug of tea on the small coffee table. And countless times he’s just lifted his arms as you’ve crawled onto his lap, he’ll set his book down on the armrest and drape a blanket around you, tucking in all the corners. Then, without a word, he’ll go back to his book and his arms will hold you close. Sometimes, if you ask, he’ll read aloud to you, deep voice grumbling out poetry and old english in his little drawl. You can feel it rumbling around in his chest and it draws your eyelids to shut. The scent of woods and faint cigarettes mixed with the warmth of his embrace makes you fall asleep in seconds. You’ll nuzzle further into his hold and his shortened forearm will trail up and down your back, caressing you as you drift off.
In your mind, clyde is a bear and there is no other option.
However, you haven’t told him of this comparison yet. Pet names aren’t uncommon between the two of you, he’s always calling you one, “Sweetpea, suga’ plum, sweet’eart, and his favorite, darlin’.” But something about comparing him to a wild animal is keeping you from telling him. Maybe it's the fear of him not liking it, maybe it’s just embarrassment, whatever it is, you don’t know.
The first time it slipped was a late night at the bar. Clyde made you fancy cocktails that were way too good and he looked even better. Your thoughts started to come out unfiltered and you could tell he was getting a kick out of it.
“Darlin’ I think that’s enough fer ya.” He said with a chuckle making his voice even deeper.
You let your lips push into a pout as you stared up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes. “But bear, I’m already going home with you, one more won’t hurt.”
He froze, eyes widening but after a second he shook his head and let a small smile take over his face. “No more fer ya darlin’. I’m sorry, but you’ll thank me in the mornin’.”
The two of you never spoke about it.
Well, you didn't speak about it for three days.
He was curled around you that morning, dead to the world as his snores thundered through the house. (Even his snores sound like a bear’s!) You wiggled out of his hold and padded into the kitchen, starting to prepare all the ingredients for omelettes. Mindlessly you hummed a little tune and started to chop some bell peppers.
Suddenly an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you away from the counter, lifting you into the air. You scream and start to kick your legs before loud chuckles come from behind you. Realizing who it is you relax in his hold and frown.
“Clyde, I had a knife.”
“Darlin’ if that's how you fight against a bear, I’ll never be able to take ya campin.”
The amusement is loud and clear in his voice. You know you’ve been caught.
“What do you mean bear? I don’t see any bears.” When worse comes to worst, what do you do?
Play dumb.
It’s also not your fault he sprung this upon you in the early morning. Your brain’s not even awake yet.
He sets you down and you turn around in his hold, eyes wide with faux innocence. His own eyes slightly narrow, but a small smile stays on his lips.
“Hmm.” He stares down at you, silently testing your acting abilities. “Some little birdie told me that ya think I’m a bear.”
“Well obviously the birds around here are terrible at gossip!” You cross your arms and turn back to your peppers.
He lets out a loud hearty laugh. Then he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on top of your head, watching as you try to not fumble and fluster under his gaze.
“I just wanna know why ya said it? And why you’re now denyin’ it.”
You sigh and set the knife down on the counter, looking up and out the small window above the counter. “Promise me you won’t laugh at me?”
“I promise.”
Everything in you screams at you to not tell him. But he said he promised and you know that eventually it would come up again, so why not tell him now?
“Ikindathinkyouactandlooklikeabearsoinmyheadit’sbecomeanicknameforyou.”
He takes a second to think over what you said so quickly. You can practically hear the cogs turning in his head. But with each second that passes, the anxiety bubbles up further in your stomach.
“I like it.”
That is the last thing you expected him to say. “You like it?”
He turns you around so he can look at you. “Yeah, it makes me feel like I can protect ya better. Like a bear.”
Your cheeks hurt from your smile. “Really?”
He swoops down and presses his lips to your own. “Yeah.” His own lips are pulled into a smile. “I’ve got ya darlin’ and now you’ve got yer bear.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press another kiss to his lips. “My big bear.”
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So yeah, I totally was swooning the entire time I was writing this! I hope you enjoyed! 
Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! It means the world to me and I also love hearing what you all have to say! 
Love forever, Lordy :) 
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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago
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headcanon: “when the svu boys propose to you”
created in conjunction with @hurricanejjareau. tw: food eating and mentions of food (especially mike and peter’s portions).
rafael barba -
rafael does everything he can to pamper you. so when he texts you halfway through your day with a time and place, it doesn’t even register past another sweet date with your man. what does is the gentle urging when you get home, the smile and light touch moving you to the fancier part of your closet.
“let’s really enjoy tonight, mi amor.”
the dinner is delicious. because of course it is. and rafael is grinning, because of course he is. each time you meet his gaze he’s winking, scanning you, teasing you. and he’s reaching for your hands.
each time he opens his mouth it’s another story, another moment that he remembers with fondness. you both reminisce about the first time you’d caught each other’s eye. and as the candle burns on the table, you see something in his gaze that makes you stop.
“what?” you have to ask. because you think the shine you see isn’t just the warmth in his eyes.
“nothing,” he murmurs. “i just love you.”
it’s a winter evening. your coats scratch against each other, as you walk arm-in-arm. your noses are numb, but the streetlights are bright. it’s a walk he insists on, and your feet step on fresh snow that’s starting to sprinkle on concrete sidewalks.
“i just love you.” he says it again. it’s reverent, as the flakes fall, and you turn to look at him as you walk home.
“hey.” you lean forward, meet his gaze, and then forward motion stops. “what’s going on, rafa? what’s got you looking like that?”
“nothing, nothing —“ he starts again, but you just level him with a look.
“don’t give me that. what’s going on with you?”
the snow keeps falling.
and he just looks. and that shine in his eyes is back, the streetlights bright. there’s no mistaking the way he swallows. the way his arm moves to his jacket pocket.
“i kept... waiting. for the right moment. that moment i could look at you and know exactly how to ask you to —“
he kinda laughs. at himself, you guess. no, you know. because he shakes his head, in that way he gets, the way that has your fingers lifting his chin.
“rafa.”
“i had a plan, mi amor. i promise. a romantic dinner date, at your favorite place. a whole speech, i wrote it down, but... this isn’t a closing on a case.”
he pulls his hand out of his pocket. the next snowflake you see that doesn’t get caught in rafa’s hair is on the red velvet box. it seems to glisten, snd you’re reaching for it before you can stop yourself. mesmerized.
“i’m never at a loss for words. you know that. but right now i look at you and i think there’s nothing i can say that fully gets it across. that could ever help anyone understand how much i love you.”
the box flicks open. your jaw drops.
“i love you. now. always. i promise that. nothing high or low, big or small. nothing... nothing will change that. will you marry me, mi amor? will you?”
the snow flurries down, but that’s not what makes it hard to see him. hard to reach out and manage to grasp both his cheeks in your palms, to pull him in for a kiss that rocks your worlds.
“yes, rafael,” you say. “i do, i will, yes to it all.” and when you kiss him again the cold of the night is but a distant sensation, the snow in your hair barely noticed as you kiss your future husband.
sonny carisi - 
you wake up in the morning, a day off with sonny head of you. but instead of rolling over and finding a body to curl around, your fingers connect with a piece of paper.
you can’t help the way your brow furrows and your lips pout. you’d expected a breakfast maybe, but there’s no divine smell filtering through the apartment. all there is this note, and when you pull it to your eyes you squint to read his chicken scratch.
sorry, sweetheart. i know it’s early, but i planned something special for you. get dressed. and meet me at the place we first met.
even groggy, the sight of the note makes you smile. and you rub your eyes as you get up, reading over it over and over as you dress yourself.
you know where he’s talking about. a chance stumble in a coffee shop halfway across town. but when you get there he’s gone, and all that’s there is a note scribbled on a napkin the waitress gives you, her smile coy.
not quick enough. our first kiss, maybe?
you can’t help but roll your eyes. ever the tease. you can basically see his grin as he scribbled it out.
so you go. the courthouse. meeting him outside after a tough case, the way he lifted you. but his friend (and yours) rollins is there instead, leaning against a pillar with sunglasses and a wry quirk of her lips.
those notes take you all across the city. first date, second kiss, first anniversary. you’re thrown this way and that, notes from his team, his squad. you kinda feel the need the apologize, but they don’t even blink.
“it’s sonny,” they laugh. all of them, even barba. “we expect nothing less.”
and all of them seem clued in to something you’re still searching for. because by the time you get to the last clue, his sergeant, mike, seems positively giddy.
last one, i promise, he writes. now. i’ll see you at home. our home.
you can’t help your sigh. of course. and by the time you get there you’re feeling run ragged. it’s cute, the reminiscence, but finding yourself back where you start has your mouth open before you even open the door.
“sonny, while i love the trip down memory lane —“ you start. but any words left in your throat are stole, because before you, your living room is transformed.
it’s still recognizable. the couch you and sonny picked, the tv he begged you for. but in the center of the room is sonny looking taller and more sure than you’ve ever seen him, and flowers seem to cover every surface.
he’s grinning. he’s so - so proud of himself, and you can’t help the gasp as your nose picks up what’s simmering on the stove, as you realize what he’s holding in his hand.
and then he goes to one knee.
“hey,” he says. and that confident lift of his chin doesn’t hide the way his voice trembles. as you love with long strides to his side, to look down at him as he gazes lovingly up at you. “i’m real sorry, but. i had to get you out of the apartment.”
his eyes are teary. you can barely see him.
“it’s okay,” you say immediately. nodding. “it’s fine.”
“i know, but. still.” and he laughs, and you laugh, and when he pops the box open you’re nodding. immediately. “i - i’m here. in our home. and i think about things i wanna do. with my future. and each time i think about it i think about you. there’s no step i wanna take where you’re not there. and i have to ask you —“
you can’t let him finish. you’re already nodding. already laughing, already crying. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sonny, i’ll marry you,” you’re saying, and before you can think you’re on your knees, too, pulling him into a hug.
(the ring is forgotten until later. you’re both laughing and still a little teary when you see it on the coffee table. and it’s another round of “yes, sonny,” that gets it on your finger, finally. as it should be.)
nick amaro - 
in another life nick amaro gets shot and comes out broken. in this life, he has you.
he’s here, instead. drying dishes, the laughter of his squad in the other room, and he gets the joy of watching you. gets to watch your little smile, the way you glance at him and shake your head. 
“take a picture. it’ll last longer,” you say, and it’s a tease, and he gets to grin and ignore the pain in his knee because you’re here, too. there are aches and pains that are going to last forever, but so is this, and he knows it. 
it’s a simple motion. he sets the dish he has to the side. leans from the counter to against you, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other into his pocket.
“you make my life better, y’know that?” his voice is low. you hum, lean back into him, mindful of the lone foot he’s balancing on.
“you say that like i’m not lucky, too,” you murmur, right back, wiping suds off onto your shirt before holding his hand.
he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, chin on your shoulder. and when he pulls out the little box he’s been carrying around for too long he can feel your breath falter. 
“nick,” you mumble. 
“i’m not - not a poet. i know that. but it’s not poetry to say that i love you. it’s just the truth. you love on my kids, you laugh with my squad, you... you show me what it’s like to see the world with... fresh eyes.” 
it’s that simple. the middle of your kitchen, your family behind you, your dishes in front of you. he lifts the lid, and your hand drops to the one he has on your waist, squeezing it tightly, swallowing as you glance up at him with big eyes. 
“marry me.” 
he watches you. watches your eyes scan the ring, trace up his arm until you’re turning to face him. your hand drops the dish you have, and if he could hear anything but his own heart pounding, he’d know that the other room quiets in an instant.
“nick,” you say again.
“marry me,” he whispers back, “because each day is better with you in it. my life is better with you, and... i never want to let that go.”
that’s all he can say, if he wants his voice is stay steady. but you know the rest. you whisper your yes. over and over. pull him in for a kiss, and the two of you are clinging to the counter because right now he can’t hold you quite how he likes.
and when prying ears become prying eyes, and the box is seen in nick’s death grip, there’s cheers of yeses, too.
mike dodds - 
it’s spring.
you both sit on a blanket with wildflowers around, looking at each other in the bright sunshine. there’s a chill in the air, but the sun cuts through it. makes mike’s hair look a little golden, makes your eyes shine.
a day off for the both of you. a rarity, but one you both cherished. usually days off mean nights in, but this day is different. mike has a plan, one he doesn’t share until you park and he has to grin.
“how about a picnic?”
it’s spring.
he looks at you as he leans back on the grass. watches your hand move as you tell him about your week, laugh about something you heard through the grapevine. he watches as you reach for a few berries, pop them in your mouth.
the sun is high in the sky. it’s burning his nose, his cheeks, he’s sure, but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he gets a little closer to you, sits up so he can smile gently, reach for your hand.
“hey, sweetheart. can we talk for a minute?”
you’ve finished your story, but the question still makes you pause. makes your brow furrow as you look at him, but his smile tells you all you need to know. it’s not something to worry about. 
“sure, mike,” you say, squeezing his hand. “what about?” 
it’s spring. and what is spring if not the buzz of bees, the flower buds, and new beginnings with the ones you love? with the one who makes your heart flutter in your chest, who makes butterflies in your stomach feel as real as the ones that land on windowsills? 
“the fact that i love you.” his thumb runs over your skin, and his grin is vibrant.
“i love you, too,” you say back. it’s instinct. easy.
not as easy as this.
“and i’m lucky. because i met someone who saw me past all the pomp, and circumstance, and bad ties, and —“
“i love your ties,” you protest, and he has to lean forward to kiss you. kisses you over and over, until you’re both giggling, so he can slide past the basket and dig his hand in.
“and i love you.” his voice is a little breathless, as he looks at you. “i love the way you make me smile. i love them way you make me laugh. i love you, every inch of you, and the fact that you love every inch of me. you’re home, to me, sweetheart.”
your smile is gone. your face is open, vulnerable, and he has to lean forward and kiss you one more time. “mike,” you whisper, and when your voice cracks, he pulls his hand forward.
“will you marry me?” he asks. and he feels that familiar warmth, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, as his cheeks go a little red, and your eyes widen with delight as the sight of the ring he pulls out of the basket he packed.
you laugh again. bright and warm and a yes thrown in there for the certainty. and when he gets to kiss you again, your back hits the blanket.
peter stone -
“how the hell did we lose that game?” peter groans. it’s about the drama of it, the way he leans on you with an over-the-top amount of pain, because it makes you laugh like that. 
“well, i think the long and short of it is that they scored more runs than us,” you tease. peter lifts up, stares agape, and you try and dart away before he pinches your side. you’re unsuccessful. cackle as he pulls you close to blow kisses into your neck. and your delight echoes down the street. 
the sun is setting now. summer heat warms metal buildings and the back of your heads as you walk alongside a busy new york street. a walk you’ve made a million times, always ending up at the same spot to get some grub. 
always the same spot. 
that’s the thing that peter savors with you. the routine of it all. the fact that peter can wake up in the morning and see you, call you in the afternoon and hear you.
building a life with you. step by step. building a routine, step by step.
this walk is different. this walk has peter’s hand in his pocket, a three-fingered grip on the ring he spent ages searching for. you pull him towards the usual restaurant, make the turn, and he follows with ease. he’d follow you anywhere.
the host recognizes the both of you. your booth is open. peter has a flash of that first walk together, the way you grinned and pulled him down on the same side.
“let’s be cheesy, peter stone.”
he remembers that any time he slides in next to you. this time, included. it’s cheesy, to keep his hand tangled in yours, to blow kisses onto the side of your neck to make you laugh. it’s cheesy to pull you against his side and feed you a piece of something from the appetizer. it’s cheesy as hell to look at you and see everything he wants for the rest of his life.
but he loves it.
loves you.
he reaches into his pocket. holds the ring like a good fastball, tight grip, thumb running against smooth velvet. he feels his heart pound, blood roar in his ears, as the sun lowers behind the new york high-rises.
“hey,” he murmurs. you’re both tired from the time out in the sun, the feeling of hot plastic seats, three hours and eight innings. but his voice is low for another reason, as he leans close and sets the box gently in front of you. 
your fingers holding his grip him. reach for his thigh, and hold that, too. “peter —”
“home is new york, and you, because you made it that way. hope is baseball games and late night dinners, and... this booth because of you. i’ve - i’ve lost so much, but gained so much more because of you. i love you. i’m in love with you. and i always will be.” 
you’re leaning against him, now. your grip is no longer tight, but firm. he glances down and sees your little smile, the single tear that he swipes away. 
“i want to marry you. will - will you let me?” 
the lid pops open. but the ring isn’t the focus. the focus is your hands on his jaw, now, pulling him in for a kiss and murmures yeses against his lips. 
-
tag list: @duchesschameleon // @writefasttalkevenfaster // @altsvu // @ssaic-jareau // @encounterthepast // @mijop // @bureaudart // @1234-angelika // @nuvoleincielo // @wanniiieeee // @averyhotchner // @barbasbodaciousbeard // @caracalwithchips // @xxlovingfandomsxx // @mad-girl-without-a-box // @alliekenner 
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morganas-pendragons · 4 years ago
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cuddling with the 104th | headcanons
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i did this with the 501st and apparently it was a favorite, so here’s the 104th version with the alternative reader - mind!healer reader - from wolffe’s fic. healer is a therapist. she knows how to use touch to heal. 
mind healer fic - admiral!reader doesn’t exist in here 
- every time i do a tag list, no one seems to get notified so i’m going to abstain from it for this one 
***
- one of the first things you were taught upon your apprenticeship to the halls of healing was that physical contact was an extremely important thing for recovery 
- you didn’t learn what that meant for years 
- not until the clone wars started 
- it had taken you six visits with hysterical clones who’d come back injured and disfigured from the front lines to realize just how desperate they are for basic things 
- basic needs that humans shouldn’t be starved of 
- otherwise known as contact
- physical contact, emotional connections, all of it 
- kriff those kaminoans for depriving them of their lives 
- so when wolffe becomes a regular patient of yours in the halls of healing, you make a conscious effort to begin introducing this into your weekly appointments 
- casually brushing his hand
- pressing knees together 
- lingering gazes, talks that go on far longer then you intend for them to 
- and after khorm, you’re the one that’s called 
- the second he sees you, wolffe is launching himself out of his bed and wrapping his whole body around your form
- it’s not because he’s happy to see you 
- it’s because you’re his lifeline 
- ‘’wolffe, beloved... it’s just me.” you ran your fingers through his hair and coaxed him away from the safety of your shoulder to allow his face to be tended to
- he had simply looked at you, the ghost of a smile quirking his lips upward, and kept his grip on your thighs loose while the medics tended to him 
- it’s your relationship with the commander that’s gotten you into this predicament 
- boost and sinker absolutely adore you, there’s no doubt in your mind 
- talk about overactive children 
- wildfire talks to you about the poetry he writes in his spare time 
- and warthog loves when you ask him question about anything and everything you can think of 
- so one day, out of the blue, you make a visit to the barracks to check on wolffe 
- it’s a weekly habit for you to check on your commander 
- and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him love you even more 
- but you don’t tell each other that 
- ‘’ah, ner baar’ur’’ the soft voice of wildfire calls out to you from right outside the 104th barracks. it’s the middle of the afternoon. why is it so quiet? ‘’c’mere, i wanna show you something’’ 
- the younger brother opens the door to show you exactly what you’d been asking yourself for the last couple of years: do clones only get physical contact from each other? 
- and kriff, they do 
- because who else is going to give it to them? 
- the sight in front of you is sickeningly sweet and makes your eyes water because it just looks so.. natural
- like they were born with an overwhelming desire to naturally protect one another even in their sleep 
- wolffe and sinker are curled around each other, laying diagonally to one another while warthog and boost are sleeping nestled together in between their older brothers 
- warthog has his nose pressed to wolffe’s chest and his hand resting on his arm, leg casually thrown over his own 
- ‘’is this normal? is this.. what you had to resort to in order to get physical contact?” 
- ‘’we saw alot on our relief mission. it gets hard.. not having anyone but each other.. and we only ever feel safe like this.’’ wildfire gestures to his four brothers. ‘’together’’ 
- you find yourself leaving the jedi temple less then a week later close to midnight with a stack of weighted blankets in your arm 
- it helps your overnight patients, the less stable ones 
- you think it’s going to aid you spectacularly in your venture to the 104th barracks 
- wildfire is waiting for you when you arrive, whispering his confirmation about the pile of mattresses he’d forced the vod to put together in the middle of the room 
- when that door opens and those boys beam at you (except wolffe, he just looks extremely confused until he sees the familiar blankets tucked under your arm) your heart nearly caves in on itself with love 
- cause maker, you love them as much as their plo’buir does 
- ‘’what are you doing, baar’ur?” 
- you tucked that blanket around wolffe’s shoulders and bent down to kiss his temple, allowing your lips to linger far longer then you should’ve 
- ‘’a blanket a day keeps the nightmares away’’ 
- the look you give him reads differently, but all the other brothers know what you’re doing 
- this is your way of easing their nightmares
- your way of keeping them safe 
- ‘’make room for your favorite’’ 
- ‘’who said you were my favorite?’’ 
- ‘’you did, when you were hyped up on painkillers and singing obnoxiously about your adoration for me loud in slurred basic and mando’a when i came in to visit you in the medbay’’
- ‘’aren’t you a mind healer? cause my mind’s gonna need cleansing after all this mushiness.. i need some bleach’’ 
- ‘’bleach and the force are not the same thing’’  
- you curl into wolffes chest, expecting that to be it, that’s the furthest you can touch 
- but as Boost settles on your other side and nudges his thigh between your legs and wrapping a loose arm around your waist 
- wolffe tucks your head under his chin and whispers ‘'nuhoy pirusti kar'taylir darasuum’’ 
- it’s so warm. warm and safe and they’re.. they’re safe. they’re at peace
- you allow yourself to be encompassed in the life that radiates from each one of them 
- each individual heartbeat, the gratitude that rolls off of them in waves 
- the little ways they murmur words in their mother tongue in their sleep 
- the way arms will tighten around you when you dare to move, let alone breathe, because it’s built into their dna to protect the innocent 
- you palm wolffe’s chest and whisper ‘’sleep well’’ hoping that the force suggestion will be enough to give him peaceful dreams for the night 
- when sleep claims you, you swear you feel his lips on your cheek before darkness comes 
- when you wake up the next morning, they’re all smiling 
- let me tell you something, sleepy and smiling clones are absolutely adorable 
- it doesn’t matter if they’re trained killers 
- they’re pathetically adorable, especially the wolf pack 
- ‘’that’s the best sleep we’ve had in over a year, baar’ur’’ wolffe murmurs against the column of your neck ‘’please come back’’ 
- you hear the unsaid words there 
- ‘’we need you more then you realize’’ 
- and maybe they do, you’ve never known what it’s like to be needed before 
- but you are drawn to broken, desperate people who want to be loved 
- and no one deserves it more then the wolf pack 
- ‘’tell me i’m your favorite’’ 
- boost leans in and sleepily nuzzles your neck
- it’s not unprecedented, it’s normal for them to be so hands on, and the action makes laughter bubble in your throat 
- ‘’you’re our favorite’’
- and you really are 
- and wolffe might really love you 
- but clones are terrible liars and he prefers to keep that secret to himself 
- it’s as valuable as you are
when the 212th gets wind of another battalion being cuddled at night and sleeping more soundly then they had the entire war, cody locks his cyar’ika in a room and demands to know where he can get a free cuddler 
they’ve ordered one. it’s coming. 
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red1culous · 4 years ago
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Written Desires
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Once in a while the team had to busy themselves with duties outside of saving the world. Today happened to be one of those days. In fact today was one of those days that seemed to bleed into a whole 2 weeks. That’s how long Fury scheduled the Avenger’s road trip for. Currently the star coach tooting down a lonely stretch of road in the pitch black out in the middle of nowhere was filled with the sound of snoring superheroes. Everyone was asleep except for you. You and Natasha. Sat side by side. And the sounds of little gasps and moans.
“So you going to tell her or shall I?” Sam winks at you as he plonks himself in the window seat beside you.
“Don’t you dare! I will kill you” you shoot him a hard glare, “plus she’s the Black Widow and I’m the newbie so shut it before anyone hears” you whisper out the last few words through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t you be sitting with the others?” you say as you chuck your rucksack into his lap and he grunts before saying, “you might have just joined the team but we’ve known each other forever so excuse me if I wanna make sure my friend settles in ok”.
He was right about that.
You and Sam had known each other for a long time. Well more like since Sam had fallen into your greenhouse when his Falcon wings malfunctioned. You ended up tending to his busted up lip and bruised ego. It was a good thing you were also starting out as an ER medic so you weren’t completely clueless about what to do when a large man falls from the sky literally into your lap. The night was spent patching Sam up and declining his advances towards you. It took him a few hours to realise why you weren’t interested but when the lightbulb came on he was thankful saying, “oh! You like the ladies! I can dig that!”
He was the one who rallied for you to start working in Shield. Without Sam you would never have become an official member of the Avengers. Even though you never actually qualified as a doctor you were smart and a fast learner. Even Dr Cho was impressed and when Sam approached Fury, Cho supported him wholeheartedly.
So here you were, joining the Avengers Roadshow. Part of Fury’s plan to get the support of the public. In his words, “show them the human side of the Avengers.” You were invited last minute because the appointed medical attendee came down with a nasty flu. Not that you were complaining. You were going to spend 2 whole weeks in close proximity to your crush, Natasha Romanoff.
Sam was the only one in the team who knew about your crush. He sensed something when he was showing you around the compound. He had brought you to the gym and there stood the infamous Black Widow, covered in sweat, her workout clothes drenched and clinging to every curve of her body. You swallowed hard and when Sam introduced you to her, you became a flustered stuttering mess. After the encounter Sam would not stop teasing you about it. He used every opportunity he could to get you to make a move on her but you were some kind of stubborn. Plus you were too shy for your own good.
“I’ll go if you promise to at least talk to her sometime during this trip” he bargains. “Jesus, fine Sam, I’ll say hi or something” you said. With that he was off your seat and joining the others at the front of the bus. You quickly busied yourself with your work completely missing the look Natasha was giving you and Sam.
There was nothing much for you to do during the road trip. You wondered why you were even here at all. So far all you had to deal with was a blister from Clint wearing sneakers a little too small for his feet. Other than that you felt kind of awkward so you started writing in your notebook when there was a lull in activities. Even when you joined the team for lunches in small diners along the road you would be more interested in jotting things down. You felt really out of place but you didn’t want to seem antisocial either.
It was almost 1.25am when you realised someone tapping you on the shoulder. You were writing in your notebook and the interruption startled you. It was even more startling when you noticed it was Natasha Romanoff standing there looking at you expectantly.
“Nata-I mean Ms. Romanoff are you ok?” you start to get up in a hurry dropping your notebook on the floor in the process. “I’m fine Y/N I just came over…” she trails off as she reaches for your book and manages to read a few lines before you quickly snatch it out of her hands. “I’m sorry Ms. Romanoff it’s just umm, personal stuff you really don’t wanna read that” you stutter after realising you just snatched something out of the Black Widow’s hands. She chuckles softly, “please call me Natasha.”
After staring at her dumbfounded for what feels like an eternity you croak out, your throat suddenly dry, “did you need some medical assistance? Are you hurt or something?” She makes to sit in the seat next to you and you let her.
“Or something…” she says softly, “I couldn’t sleep and noticed you were up too, so I decided to come see what you were doing” she considers you for a moment, “I hope that’s ok”. You smile brightly at her and relax a little into your seat, “yes! I mean yea sure that’s fine.”
The sky starts to glow a shade of crimson when you realise that you had been speaking to Natasha throughout the night. She’s trying to stifle her laughter with your blanket as you tell her something funny. When the laughter dies down she smiles at you, “so….you write poetry huh?”
You start to blush, “oh god you read it didn’t you? I should’ve known you’d be able to fast read faster than us mere mortals” you start to pull at the blanket to hide your face. Natasha finds this adorable, “sorry, I did read a few lines. Hey don’t be embarrassed they’re really good.” Your thank you is muffled as you speak from under the blanket. She reaches over the uncover your face, “I’d love to read more if you don’t mind?” she’s giving you puppy dog eyes and your last wall of resistance starts to crumble. You hand your notebook over to her and she takes it with a smile and starts reading from the very first page. “Crap you’re starting from the beginning?” you whine as you start to reenter your cave of shame. “Yes I am so you just keep quiet over there. I want to see what you’ve been so busy jotting down every day.”
By the time she’s reading the last page you’ve come out from under the covers and are looking at her. You notice every little twitch of her face and how her mouth moves slightly as she mouthes some words reading them to herself. She closes the notebook and lays it on her lap before looking at you resting her head on the head rest of her seat.
Under her intense stare you feel the heat rising to your face as you start to retrieve the book from her lap. She grabs your hand effectively stopping your movements.
She. Is. Holding. My. Hand.
She. Is. Holding. My. Hand.
Your brain seems to be on a death loop and you can’t think of anything else until she breaks you out of your stupor, “they’re beautiful, Y/N”
“Umm thanks…I just…you know…umm thanks” you sound like an idiot.
“Are you always this inarticulate or only around me?” she’s definitely teasing you now.
“Very funny, Romanoff” wtf is happening right now. You’re trying to play it cool but you’re almost certain your sweaty palms are giving you away.
“Who did you write them for?” she says, gently stroking your knuckles with her thumb.
“Just someone I used to know. She’s not…we’re not together anymore” your brain thankfully starts to work again.
“Would you write something like that for me?”
You blink at her a few times before saying, “you’d have to fall in love with me, break my heart and then leave me first”.
Did she just move closer to you?
“Well I can do the first part” she breathes, “but I don’t think I’m up to the second or third”.
Your heart has officially stopped beating and you can hear the blood pumping in your veins.
“Ok” you whisper.
“Ok? Or…ok” she definitely moved closer. She’s so close you can feel her hot breath on your face.
“Ok”
And with that she closes the gap between the both of you and gently kisses you. When she starts to deepen the kiss you move the hand she was once holding to the nape of her neck bringing her closer while she holds onto your waist squeezing slightly.
The both of you stop kissing when you hear Sam’s exaggerated cough. He’s wearing this toothy grin and if you weren’t so turned on by the women in front of you, you would’ve said something to him. Natasha pulls your attention back to her and smiles while throwing the blanket over both your heads. Clearly she wasn’t done with you yet.
Tagging: @natasharomanoffismywife
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strawberrywritings · 4 years ago
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Poem 14.
A/N: these are days filled with ideas and I’m honestly loving it! The inspo for this came thanks to an ask (which i can’t find anymore) sent to @crushed-pink-petals-writes and @suckthatskittlebiiitch‘s comment: shoutout to you, but I also blame you because it’s been almost 3 days and the idea won’t leave my head and I just HAD TO WRITE IT.🙈 I did not include all of the poem, I just used some lines, and I used the Spanish version (but you can find the English translation, also). One day I will address my love/hate relationship with poetry, but today is not the day. I’m making an exception for Angel, tho.😌
Enjoy! Xx 🍓
/ Masterlist
Warnings: unprotected sexual intercourse, oral sex (f receiving), not proofread
Summary: the Mayans Book Club starts reading poetry and Angel recites you a poem, the Angel way.
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Angel had been blackmailed into joining the Mayans book club and he hated to admit it, but he liked it. He talked to you about the books they read, what he liked, what he didn’t like, his theories and sometimes he also made alternative endings. When Letty suggested reading poetry, the others didn’t know what to say. Poetry, of course, couldn’t be read like novels and they were hesitant at first, but they tried it.
They started with the basis: English poetry. And EZ (who was in charge of the whole thing, with the supervision of Bishop) assigned homework: everyone had to read and present a poem from the author they had chosen, give a brief explanation, going beyond the written words and finding the meaning, understand it.
Angel had loved it, he had googled and read every analysis he could come across to, and he wanted to know more and more each time. He had never read that much.
/
The chairs were put in a circle, everyone with their book in hand, bookmarks, notes, it felt as if they were back in school. Today they were going to read Neruda.
Gilly got up and started reading the poem had chosen, Poem XIV from the book “20 love poems and a song of despair”. Angel listened, marveling at the analysis his brother had done, and all he could think about was you and how you fit perfectly in the lines of the poem.
The night went on, but Angel had zoned out, his brain replayed the poem over and over in his head.
/
A couple of days had passed, and Angel had read the poem a hundred times, and he wanted you to know that he loved you.
He smiled as he entered the house, finding you on the bed, a flannel of his resting loosely on your body, allowing him to see your soft curves.
“Hello there”, you said with a sweet smile, now watching him. He smiled and slowly walked towards you, grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the end of the bed. You yelped and gave a soft laugh, but it slowly died down when you saw the seriousness in his eyes. “Something wrong?”, your cheerful mood was gone.
He shook his head and smiled at you, spreading your legs and trailing one of his hands from your feet to your inner thigh. “No, everything’s perfect. I love you”, he murmured, kneeling in front of you and sliding both of his hands under the shirt you were wearing, but he avoided your breasts, opting to caress your skin again and again. You had no clue what was happening.
“Baby… what are you doing?”, you whispered, propped up on your elbows, and whined when he finally touched your chest, but it wasn’t eager like usual. Angel loved having sex with you, but he had always been on the rougher side, worshipping you in his own way, not that you complained. There had been times where he would go slow, and you enjoyed it very much. Still, he was not a patient man.
He shushed you and smiled, kissing just below your belly button. “Don’t worry, just relax”, he said, as his hands removed the fabric from your body, leaving you completely naked, and him completely dressed.
He ducked his head down and slowly started to eat you out. You didn’t know if it was the change of atmosphere or the incredible way his lips worked on you, but you came within minutes; Angel groaned at the taste of you and wiped his mouth clean… which didn’t do much, since his beard was covered in your arousal.
He got on top of you, and you reached down to unbuckle his pants, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.
He took his time undressing and when his tip entered you, your body felt like it was on fire. Every touch was erotic and you couldn’t help but squirm against the mattress, his body on top of you, his cock caressing your walls with slow and deep strokes.
You both hadn’t said much, the only sounds were moans and whines and groans. Then, Angel spoke.
“I’ve been thinking about you for days, fuck- I wanna recite you a poem”, your eyes snapped open, he was watching you. Your eyes searched his, questioningly, you had no idea what was going on. When you didn’t respond, he started.
Juegas todos los días con la luz del universo.
Sutil visitadora, llegas en la flor y en el agua. 
(Every day you play with the light of the universe. / Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.)
He kept thrusting slowly, his words a bit muffled as he had his lips against your neck. You were his world, his universe, and he wanted you to understand how much he loved you. Angel was not good with his words, but he could try with someone else’s.
Hearing him speak Spanish, reciting poetry while you were making love, had you becoming lightheaded.
A nadie te pareces desde que yo te amo.
Déjame tenderte entre guirnaldas amarillas.
(You are like nobody since I love you. / Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.)
You moaned and threw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders at the pleasure, making him moan and thrust a bit harder as a reaction. There is nobody like you, nothing compares to you, he’s put you on a pedestal.
While you were too occupied with each other, the weather outside had gotten bad. The clouds in the sky and the breeze coming from the open window announced the arrive of a storm, but you didn’t mind. Now, all your mind could think about was the way Angel’s hips were pushing and pulling against your own.
Life could put him through the worst things, but he felt strong with you by his side.
Tú estás aquí. Ah tú no huyes.
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito.
Ovíllate a mi lado como si tuvieras miedo.
(You are here. Oh, you do not run away. / You will answer me to the last cry. / Cling to me as though you were frightened.)
He continued, his head now against your chest.
Ahora, ahora también, pequeña, me traes madreselvas,
y tienes hasta los senos perfumados.
( Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle, / and even your breasts smell of it.)
His tongue explored your flesh, his pace always sensual even if you were squeezing around him. Your whines had gotten louder and you had scratched at his back multiple times, always when his tip bumped your g-spot.
Cuanto te habrá dolido acostumbrarte a mí,
a mi alma sola y salvaje, a mi nombre que todos ahuyentan.
(How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, /my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.)
He remembered the way people looked at you when you said his name with the biggest smile on your face. Everybody had warned you, he was dangerous, nothing good, stay away. But you were stubborn. The day Angel had confessed to you what he really did for the club, was the day worry, uneasiness, and restlessness made a home in your head. It was also the day you vowed to stay by his side, it didn’t matter what he did. You loved him. He knew you were the one, then.
Mis palabras llovieron sobre ti acariciándote. Amé desde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de nácar soleado. Hasta te creo dueña del universo. Te traeré de las montañas flores alegres, copihues, avellanas oscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.
(My words rained over you, stroking you. / A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. / I go so far as to think that you own the universe. / I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, / dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.)
His thrusts had begun to quicken, signalling that he was approaching his high, and you were too. You opened your eyes and your gazes met, he gave you a soft smile, pausing his words to kiss you, the first real kiss since the start of the poem. It was soft and loving but you still felt electricity shoot through your body. His movements were fast, now, he pressed his forehead against yours, his forearms rested beside your head, supporting his weight, and your bodies were touching almost completely. You grabbed his hand, wrapping your leg around his waist and you both moaned out at the change of angle, that made him reach even deeper.
You closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm coming and you kept him anchored to you with your leg on his waist, his hand coming on your raised thigh to squeeze it, your grip so thigh, not letting him leave your warmth and his hips stuttered. His and yours groans and moans filled the room.
Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.
(I want / to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.)
You came just as he finished speaking, and he followed you. He kept moving his hips against yours, riding out your high and emptying himself inside you. When you were both done, your chests were rising and falling rapidly. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, before gently removing himself from you and going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth and help you clean up. You flinched at the contact, still sensitive to the touch, and he made sure to be extra careful.
He got up, discarding the towel and put on his boxers, helping you get into a clean pair of panties and a shirt of his. He closed the window and then you felt the bed dip again under his weight. You curled up against him as he kissed your head and stroked your bare back, smiling at your blissed-out state.
“I love you, so much”, you said, looking at him and he could see the love in your eyes, too. “Te amo, mi dulce”, he replied, hugging you to him and draping a blanket over you both, ready to nap while holding you close.
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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years ago
Text
Songs that make me think of the Marauders (PART TWO)
(part one)
Everything Happens For A Reason (Madison Beer)
Remus, after the Prank, completely heartbroken and completely confused… when did Sirius stop loving him in that sweet, gentle way he’d always promised to?
When did Sirius start seeing him as the monster he's always sworn Remus isn't?
I used to believe That everything happens for a reason But I just can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad
Can't get no relief Time moves on with the seasons But I still can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad
And what in the world did I do to deserve such a pain in my heart? Guess it's true I'm never getting over you
I still love you I still want you I still love you
If You Love Her (Forest Blakk)
This is the song Sirius and Remus play during their first dance. Fight me.
She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment She loves her whole family and all of her friends So if you're the one she lets in
Kiss her with passion as much as you can Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over, so she never forgets
Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have On days when it feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She'll love you if you love her like that
cowboy like me (Taylor Swift)
Sirius and Remus go on the run together after James’ death. Not at first - they meet up in a bar about three months after. But after that three months they’re inseparable again - desperately in love, playing Robin Hood, driving a blue Mustang into the sunset - they’re miserable, sure, but they’re also very good at pretending they’re not.
And you asked me to dance But I said, "dancing is a dangerous game" Oh, I thought, this is gonna be one of those things I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love, just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone
Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it You're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love We could be the way forward, and I know I'll pay for it
And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest con
And I'm never gonna love again I'm never gonna love again
no body, no crime (Taylor Swift)
Sirius Black’s soulmate, James Potter, is dead. And Sirius knows who did it.
He just can’t prove it.
(I rewrote it for y'all. You're welcome.)
Cell Block Tango (from "Chicago")
The Dark Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Severus, and Regulus - performing uselessly sensual dance routines in Azkaban because why the fuck not? Their Dark Lord is dead, and all they have left of him is their loyalty and a bout of snakes and skulls on their arms.
(Wrote this one too. Again, you're welcome.)
Broken Bones (KALEO)
Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and every full moon, this song runs through his mind as James and Sirius envelop his naked body in their arms and tell him he’s beautiful, and so so good, and they’ll love him forever and ever and ever, they promise. And for a single, measley second every time, Remus believes them.
Hoping things might go my way Some might say I talk loud, see if I care Unlike them, don't walk away from my fear I've busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye I hope he's going to break these chains
Another hard day, no water, no rest I saw my chance, so I got him at last I took his six shooter, put two in his chest He'll never say a word no more The devil got him good for sure
Ain't got no place to call a home Only chains and broken bones Ain't got no place to call a home So come on lord, won't you take me now? So come on lord, what you waiting for?
Oh, the devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free The devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free...
traitor (Olivia Rodrigo)
Sirius is innocent. Remus believes that. Remus knows that. He knows it. Because he doesn’t know how he’ll live if he’s wrong. Well, okay, he knows -
He won’t.
Brown guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you
And ain't it funny how you ran And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it
Ain't it funny all the twisted games All the questions you used to avoid?
Ain't it funny? Remember I brought her up, and you told me I was paranoid
You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter
God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you When she's sleeping in the bed we made Don't you dare forget about the way you betrayed me
Never Not (Lauv)
The Marauders, slowly breaking apart over the years. James and Lily settle in London, and Sirius and Remus run off to travel the world. They split off somewhere in Asia and forget to call. Peter cleans dishes in Hogwarts’ kitchens and Severus spends his time in those dungeons, teaching potions and writing letters he never sends. Regulus holes up in Grimmauld Place, never marrying, never moving. James and Lily divorce when Harry is ten, and go their separate ways. They always move forward, but -
They also always look back.
I lost myself, seventeen Then you came, found me There's a room in my heart with the memories we made Took them down but they're still in their frames There's no way I could ever forget
For as long as I live, and as long as I love I will never not think about you From the moment I loved I knew you were the one And no matter whatever I do I will never not think about you
What we had only comes once in a lifetime For the rest of mine, I'll always compare To the room in my heart with the memories we made Nights on fifth, in between B and A
Didn't we have fun? Didn't we have fun, looking back?
We were so beautiful We were so tragic No other magic could ever compare...
Scared To Live (The Weeknd)
Sirius and Remus after twelve years apart, having no idea what to do with each other. They were in love once - are in love? - but those days are long gone. Sirius sees how Remus looks at Tonks, but knows Remus can’t ever really love her, much as he likes her, because his heart has forgotten every word but Sirius' name. And Sirius is happier than he thought he’d ever get to be without James, really, though he’s far from happy or even content - is this all there is? Is this how they die? Is this their ending?
No. No. No, after everything, this can’t be it - this cannot be it.
(But if he dies, well... he hopes Remus lives on without him. Happier.
I guess.)
When I saw the signs, I should've let you go But I kept you beside me And if I held you back, at least I held you close Should have known you were lonely
I know things will never be the same Time we lost will never be replaced I'm the reason you forgot to love So don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again No, don't be scared to live again
You always miss the chance to fall for someone else Cause your heart only knows me They try to win your love, but there was nothing left They just made you feel lonely
I am not the man I used to be Did some things I couldn't let you see Refused to be the one who taints your heart
I hope you know that I've been praying that you find yourself We fell apart, right from the start I should have made you my only
So don't be scared to live again I said, "don't be scared to live again"
I Know Where I've Been (from "Hairspray! Live")
Remus and Sirius, sad and happy together, alone in Grimmauld Place and dancing deep into the night as this song plays on the record player and they sway. Their whole lives have been war, but in these moments, there is peace.
Fleeting, hopeless peace, but peace nonetheless.
There's a light in the darkness Though the night is black There's a light burning bright Showing me the way But I know where I've been
There's a cry in the distance It's a voice that comes from deep within There's a cry asking why I pray the answer's up ahead Cause I know where I've been
There's a road we've been travelling Lost so many on the way But the riches will be plenty Worth the price we had to pay
There's a dream in the future There's a struggle we have yet to win And there's pride in my heart Cause I know where I'm going And I know where I've been
Brooklyn Baby (Lana Del Rey)
Sirius Black being himself, and James Potter and Remus Lupin being in love with him.
They say I'm too young to love you I don't know what I need They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies
I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice, I freeze I'm churning out novels like Beat poetry on Amphetamines
Well, my boyfriend's in a band He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed I've got feathers in my hair I get down to beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything I'm a Brooklyn baby
They say I'm too young to love you They say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see
But I'm free I'm free
I'm talking about my generation Talking about that newer nation And if you don't like it, you can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it Cause I don't have to fucking explain
Yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool But he's not as cool as me Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby
I Can't Go On Without You (KALEO)
Sirius and Remus are lost to each other, for twelve years and then two more, Sirius locked behind bars and then a Veil and Remus on the run alone and then with a woman he’s somehow fooled himself into thinking he loves.
They’ll be together again. One day. But for now, there’s nothing to do but wait.
Alone.
Well, they thought they were made for each other Only thinking of one another Never thinking just for one second She would take a different attraction
We don't want that We don't want that, oh no I can't go on without you
Oh, so what's the point of breaking my sweet heart? She wanted me to let down my guard Well, you know what they say It's better that way So, you better hush and walk away
Well, was I supposed to wait for you sweetheart? And hide away the shame, yes I keep it all inside Though the thought had crossed my mind! To do all the things I'll regret, we don't want that
I can't, I can't, I can't go on without you I can't go on without you, oh, lord I can't go on without you, babe
Oh, she loves me She loves me not She loves me My love don't love me...
Oh, so what is left but a broken man? Cause nothing hurts like a woman can I can't go on without you...
happier (Olivia Rodrigo)
Sirius as he watches Remus fall in love with Tonks right in front of him, unable to love Sirius the same way after everything. Sirius loves his cousin - he does. He just kind of hates her, too.
There’s been a lot of things in this life he’s been afraid of, but Remus leaving him never even crossed his mind.
That was his mistake, I guess…
Fuck.
You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was attached For all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?
And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm picking her apart Like cutting her down make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies
Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her
I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.
That's The Kind Of Woman (Julia Michaels)
James left Sirius for Lily, and that was okay. Sirius loved Lily, and he loved James, so it was okay. At least he still had Remus.
Well, he did. Until Tonks came along.
It’s okay. Really. Sirius has gone his whole life feeling unloved.
He can die that way too.
OR
James, Sirius, and Remus fell in love in fourth year, and it was wonderful. And then Sirius started to notice things - small things, little things. Like the gentle way James and Remus are with each other, the way they wake each other up with kisses in the morning and dance the night before the full moon, the way their hands fit together the way everyone expected Sirius’ to fit with them, but better.
The way they love each other more than him.
And that’s okay. That’s fine. He wants them to be happy, and they make each other happy. So he lets them go the last day of seventh year, and disappears into the wind never to be seen again, just like their love for him.
Childhood picket fence, smells like confidence Raised with a little more common sense Isn't always on defense Sits up straight and knows how to take a compliment Jealous but the right amount Isn't scared of missing out, missing out's scared of missing her Doesn't buy things to fill voids Doesn't hate the sound of her own voice
Doesn't cry when someone leaves Isn't contradictory Mind takes a break when she falls asleep Always takes her own advice Crosses T's and cuts her ties Figured out sympathize from empathize Doesn't keep those letters in a drawer Doesn't keep a closet full of things she bought and never wore Gives all her attention to the people that are with her She still loves to dance She still loves her sister
If the me I am Walked out that door Would I miss her?
Maybe, a little bit, sure Oh, I love myself, but I'd love her more Yeah, that's the kind of woman I'd leave me for
Quarter Past Midnight (Bastille)
The Marauders steal a Muggle’s pick-up truck and fly down the highway, literally. The lights are bright and the music is loud, and they’re screaming with laughter, dancing and kissing under the stars. It’s that one perfect moment, the one poets write about seeking their whole lives. This is that moment, this is their moment.
They’ll never be this happy again.
It's a quarter past midnight as we cut through the city The streets are getting restless Good times, bad decisions And the sirens are mending some hearts But we're the losers on our back seats Singing love will tear us apart
It's a quarter past midnight, still avoiding tomorrow It's a quarter past midnight, but we're just getting going We keep on running through a red light Like we're trying to burn the night away This is my favorite part Help me piece it all together, darling Before it falls apart
And the speakers are blowing We want the bodies on the billboards Not the lives underneath them And now we're crawling up the walls again And it's a quarter past twelve And you said we'd leave this place in dust And fall from heaven straight through hell We never know what we have We never knew what we had
We keep on running Why are we always chasing after something Like we're trying to throw our lives away?
And the secrets are flowing Our lips are getting looser I don't know what I'm saying We never knew what we had I never know what I've had
Home (Edith Whiskers)
The Marauders remember each other in a haze - well. The ones that are still alive do, that is.
Regulus, falling.
James, fighting.
Lily, screaming.
Sirius, smiling.
Peter, choking.
Remus, crying.
Severus, bleeding.
They all went, and not one peacefully.
If I close my eyes, I can still see them. Laughing.
I do love my ma and pa Not the way that I do love you Well, holy moly, me oh my, you're the apple of my eye Girl, I've never loved one like you Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness There ain't nothing that I need Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ Ain't nothing please me more than you
I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark Moats and boats and waterfalls, alleyways and pay phone calls I've been everywhere with you We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night Nothing new is sweeter than with you And in the streets, we run afree, like it's only you and me Geez, you're something to see
Oh, home, let me come home Home is whenever I'm with you Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you
I Hate That You're Happy (Tiny Little Houses)
Severus is alone, alone again. Lily’s gone. She’s run off to marry James Potter, the prat, and Severus - Severus doesn’t hope for much in this life, but he holds out hope for her. Because everyone knows she loves James now, but she loved Severus once too… and she still keeps his green ribbon tied around her ring finger, almost like they’re still married in mind.
So Severus keeps his vows to her. He promised her forever - it’s okay, honestly. That forever can be spent apart. He’ll love her anyway.
He'll love her always.
I'm sorry if I ever hurt you And I never kissed you enough And I just have trouble unravelling sometimes The feelings that I kept locked up
And I know it's my own misfortune And I didn't hold tight enough But I found it hard to keep myself whole While drowning in my bitter blood
I'll stay awake again and start feeling The spot where you used to reside And I'll lay beneath these cold empty sheets Huddled and clutching my sides
And I know it's my own misfortune And darling, believe me, I do And you've got your problems, and hell I've got mine But I find it hard that we're through
And I hate when you're with him And I hate when you smile And I hate that for once you don't seem like you've cried And I hate that you've kissed him And I hate that I'm sore But most of all I hate that you're happier than before
And I hate when you're with him And at night you're entwined And I hate that I have to pretend that I'm fine And I hate that I miss you but you miss him more But most of all I hate that you're happier than before Most of all I hate that you're happier than before
Call Your Girlfriend (Clara Mae)
James knows Lily isn’t happy with him. It’s been months, she’s had plenty of time to come around, but she just - she doesn’t love him. She never has. He should’ve seen that, but he was too busy hating the greasy-haired git to realize that Lily has always loved him more than anything else.
Gently, he lets her go. He presses the green ribbon he found in her drawer around her hand, and he kisses her goodbye, and he tells her to go after her happiness, whoever that is. And she smiles at him, the tears in her eyes happy, and she runs away, crashing into Severus’ arms. And they look… they look so perfect together. Like they make so much sense.
It’s okay. James can take it.
Regulus is staring at him. James winks at him, and smiles.
Call your girlfriend It's time you had the talk Give your reasons Say it's not her fault Tell her not to get upset Second guessing everything you've said and done
And when she get upset Tell her that you never meant to hurt no one You just tell her that the only way her heart will mend Is when she learns to love again And it won't make sense right now But you're still her friend
Cloud 9 (Beach Bunny)
James, Sirius, and Remus. It’s an unconventional love story, but not one they feel the need to explain.
They can and will dance together forever, butterbeers in their hands and magic in their eyes, hearts colliding in a messy, three-way kiss.
I don't wanna seem the way I do But I'm confident when I'm with you Lately all I feel is bad and bruised Tired of tripping on my shoes
When I start to tumble from the sky You remind me how to fly Lately, I've been feeling unalive But you bring me back to life
But when he loves me, I feel like I'm floating When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody Even when we fade eventually to nothing You will always be my favorite form of loving
the last great american dynasty (Taylor Swift)
The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and its last heir, Sirius Potter Lupin.
Fuck those assholes. He’ll be as mad as he likes.
Was the heir to the name, and money And the town said "how did a middle class divorcée do it?" The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it Holiday House Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out
And they said, "there goes the last great american dynasty" Who knows, if she never showed up what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything
Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all the Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí
There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything
They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness Their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me
Who knows, if I never showed up what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything
I Don't Believe You (P!nk)
Regulus, alone after Sirius runs away. All alone in a giant house, all alone with his wretched mother and her Death Eater friends, all alone without the only person he’s ever loved.
Sirius never comes back, but Regulus waits at the door for him every day anyway.
(Sirius writes Regulus a million letters. He wonders why he never answers. Not even with a cursive fuck you. Maybe he should go back… maybe - no.
No, best not.
It’s not like Regulus misses him.)
I don't mind it, I don't mind at all It's like you're the swing set and I'm the kid that falls It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried We come too close, and every night The passion's there, so it's gotta be right Right?
I don't mind it, I still don't mind at all It's like one of those bad dreams when you can't wake up It looks like you've given up, you've had enough But I want more, no, I won't stop Because I just know you'll come around Right?
Just don't stand there and watch me fall Cause I still don't mind at all
No I don't believe you When you say, "don't come around here no more" I won't remind you You said we wouldn't be apart No I don't believe you When you say you don't need me anymore So don't pretend to not love me at all
Cause I don't believe you.
Little Miss Perfect (Annapantsu cover)
Regulus Black, the perfect child.
He and his brother are nothing alike. Sirius is rebellious, Regulus is obedient. Sirius is brash, Regulus is controlled. Sirius is bravery, Regulus is misery. They have nothing in common.
Well -
Except their hearts, bothing beating for a boy named James Potter with twinkling eyes. A boy only one of them will get to kiss.
Regulus is happy to be the one who’s lost out. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he stares up at the white light, the surface too far above to reach.
Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners I make a point to be on time Head of the student council I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say...
Well, hmm Often I ask myself, "what did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter But I don't dare utter a word Cause that would be absurd behavior For little miss perfect
No, I can't risk falling off my throne Love is something I don't even know Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl Little miss perfect That's me You don't even know Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect
Achilles Come Down (Gang Of Youths)
Sirius, running from his family and his predetermined madness, his wildness carrying him so far he makes a circle.
Remus, hiding from love and freedom, his happiness stitched from his skin in ugly, painful scars.
James, watching his best friends tear each other apart, too blind with love to see the monsters they’ve made of each other.
Children, come down.
Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof You crazy assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue Redemption lies plainly in truth Just humour us, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?
The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken Remember the pact of our youth? Where you go, I'm going So jump and I'm jumping Since there is no me without you Soldier on, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?
Hurt and grieve, but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive Today of all days, see How the most dangerous thing is to love How you will heal and you'll rise above
Achilles, jump now You are absent of cause or excuse So self-indulgent and self-referential No audience could ever want you You crave the applause, yet hate the attention Then miss it, your act is a ruse It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now It's a pointless resistance for you
Achilles, just put down the bottle Don't listen to what you've consumed It's chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy Of feeding and it's wholly untrue You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing It's all just conjecture and gloom And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it Do not waste your self on this roof
Feel your breath course frankly below And see life as a worthy opponent Crowned by an overture bold and beyond Ah, it's more courageous to overcome You want the acclaim, it's not worth it, Achilles More poignant than fame or the taste of another
Don't listen, Achilles, but be real and just jump You dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)
You want my opinion (no one asked your opinion) My opinion you've got You asked for my counsel (no one asked for your thoughts)
I gave you my thoughts Be done with this now, and jump off the roof Can you hear me Achilles? I'm talking to you
Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph
Achilles, come down.
This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things (Taylor Swift)
Remus gets super drunk after the Prank and gives a fucking performance on top of the coffee table in front of the entirety of Gryffindor. Sirius is bright red. James is on the verge of tears. Severus is gaping. And Remus is seething.
You woke the wolf. Now watch it bite.
And there are no rules when you show up here Bass beat rattling the chandelier Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year So why'd you have to rain on my parade? I'm shaking my head, I'm locking the gates
It was so nice being friends again There I was giving you a second chance But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you And so I took an axe to a mended fence But I'm not the only friend you've lost lately If only you weren't so shady
Here's a toast to my real friends They don't care about the HE SAID, SHE SAID And here's to my baby He ain't reading what they call me lately And here's to my mama Had to listen to all this drama And here's to you... Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do
Hahaha, I can't even say it with a straight face!
This is why we can't have nice things, darling Because you break them, I had to take them away This is why we can't have nice things, honey Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me? This is why we can't have nice things
right where you left me (Taylor Swift)
Remus is pretty sure he died on October 31, 1981. He’s not sure why his body’s still moving.
Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other Wages earned and lessons learned But I'm right where you left me
Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "what a sad sight" I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on I stayed there Dust collecting on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared
Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it She's still 23 inside her fantasy How it was supposed to be Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it She's still 23 inside her fantasy And you're sitting in front of me
At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right
I'm sure that you got a wife out there Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware Cause I'm right where I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong
I'm right where you left me You left me no choice but to stay here forever...
Every Day a Little Death (from “The Count of Monte Cristo”)
Remus Lupin, waiting.
Waiting, waiting, waiting…
For what, he’s not sure. Maybe death. Maybe madness.
Right now all he’s got is lonely.
Lonely, lonely, lonely; la, la, la…
Come out, come out, wherever you are, Peter. Come out and kill me, you coward.
Another day, another week Another month, another year Another day, another night Until it’s day again The sun has fled, I go to bed And scratch a line on the wall Another day, where nothing changes at all
And everyday shuffles by like the day before! On its way to the blackest of skies And everyday a little death comes and paces the floor! And a little bit more of me dies... Another day, another week Another month, another year Another night I spend alone Until it’s day again Our little star has moved away And all the world is a blur I only see I am not me Without her
Everyday a little death for everyday I die Everyday a little death and still I know not why...
He will come back! Perhaps but still… He will return to me! Another prayer You’ve got to live for today I will live when we’re together again Everyday I will pray until then
And everyday another prayer will bring him close to me And every night out little star we will share The one day when I open my eyes He will be standing right over there, one day
There’s something I must say I wanted to protect you
I wish there was a way I could make it untrue I heard the news today I fear the worst has happened An accident occurred He is dead! Dead and gone Rest in peace may flights of angels sing him to his rest Let me hold and help to heal you!
Everyday a little death...
tolerate it (Taylor Swift)
Remus Lupin. Abandoned, alone, aimless. Unwanted, unseen, unloved. Mad, morbid, monster.
He wonders if in the next life, he’ll be dealt some better cards.
Best not hope. Best not be greedy. He could be dead -
Isn’t sadness better?
I sit and watch you reading with your head low I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed I sit and watch you I notice everything you do or don't do You're so much older and wiser and I
I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it
I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine But what would you do if I
Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it! If it's all in my head tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it
Téir Abhaile Riu (Celtic Woman)
Sirius being Sirius and Remus and James trying to reign him in. I don’t know. Just vibes, I guess - three soft little gays living out a domestic half-insane life on a little farm in Wales, not a mile from the ashen sea.
Stay here and never you mind The lights of the town are blinding you The sailors they come and they go But listen to what's reminding you Handsome men surrounding you Dancing a reel around you
Listen to the music flow I'm falling for the flow of home I'm home to dance till dawning
Stay awhile and we'll dance together now As the light is falling We'll reel away till the break of day And dance together till morning
No One Knows Us (BANNERS, Carly Paige)
James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners. Well, James is theirs - Sirius and Remus are dating. In love. But they and James, they’re not. Not that it matters - every assumes, from their atypical affection, that they are.
James wishes he could be with them, sometimes. The way he wants. Like it’s normal. Without all the prying eyes.
He wonders if he stole a pirate ship and sailed them somewhere else, if it would be any different. Any easier.
Loving the right people shouldn’t be a burden.
Wish I could kiss you when I wanna Without all the fear and all the drama Kill to hold your hand in public I could try to fight the feeling Dull it down like sleeping without dreaming
I wanna push you up against the wall Want them all to hear me call you baby I know it's never gonna happen And I've learned to accept that I accept that
I need you closer Can we go somewhere? No one knows us Leave our world behind We can hole up in a motel room Where no one knows us
See You Again (Carrie Underwood)
The Marauders as they die, one by one. James too early, Sirius too soon, Remus too late. Reunited wherever wizards go when they die, after a long, hard road of what felt like a whole lot of goddamn nothing.
But here they are, at last: alone no longer.
Said goodbye, turned around And you were gone, gone, gone Faded into the setting sun, slipped away But I won't cry cause I know I'll never be lonely For you are the stars to me You are the light I follow
I can hear those echoes in the wind at night Calling me back in time, back to you In a place far away where the water meets the sky The thought of it makes me smile You are my tomorrow
Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking But I stay strong and I hold on cause I know...
I will see you again This is not where it ends I will carry you with me Til I see you again I will see you again...
Bloom (The Paper Kites)
James and Sirius and Remus, loving each other. And not knowing what queerplatonic partners are until Severus and Lily shove a Muggle book into their hands with sweet, manic grins.
“Oh,” James says, with wonder. Sirius kisses him. Remus takes his hand. James looks at them, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh, that’s us.”
In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness, And you fill my head with you
Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces Of a song I can't get out
Can I take it to a morning Where the fields are painted gold And the trees are filled with memories Of the feelings never told?
When the evening pulls the sun down, And the day is almost through, Oh, the whole world it is sleeping, But my world is you
Can I be close to you?
Me and My Husband (Mitski)
Sirius and James. Fight me.
(Oh, and Remus - hopelessly in love with them and chasing after their shenanigans as the world stretches out before them, endless.)
I steal a few breaths from the world for a minute And then I'll be nothing forever And all of my memories And all of the things I have seen will be gone With my eyes, with my body, with me
But me and my husband, we're doing better It's always been just him and me together So I bet all I have on that furrowed brow
And I'm the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved And at least in this lifetime, we're sticking together Me and my husband, we're sticking together
You & Jennifer (bülow)
Regulus, angry and bitter, left alone in his big black bed wondering what’s so fucking amazing about Lily Evans that could make James want her more than him.
OR
Remus, so fucking in love with his two best friends… his two best friends, who are so fucking in love with each other, who look at each other like they’re the world, who fuck Remus when the world is ending. His two best friends… assholes.
Listen, no, we don't need to be enemies Ain't got a vision of us in the future with a white picket fence and eternal decisions Now I'm sitting here wondering, when did this all start?
Would rather be the girl that got away than be under your thumb Don't need to spend no more time on you, not like I was in love Not that I'm having a nervous breakdown, I'm just let down You don't know what that's like though to wait up all night So I thank you for teaching me how I could live without you Never needed me, I don't need you
Fuck you and Jennifer, I know that you're out with her Go pretend that you're just friends I'll pretend that I'm not hurt I know all the shit I heard, you can take these bitter words Fuck you and Jennifer Go fucking make love to her
Soon You’ll Get Better (Taylor Swift, The Chicks)
James, surrounded by people he can’t fix.
James, holding a screaming Sirius against his chest as he sobs and shakes from the fifth nightmare that week.
James, brushing salve across the scars of a terrified and bruised Remus after yet another full moon.
James, trying to lure a quiet and cold Peter back to them with candy as he recedes even further away into Slytherin robes.
James, fucking Lily; James, kissing Severus; James, touching Regulus -
James, doomed to love people he can’t help.
The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you Desperate people find faith, so now I pray too And I say to you
I know delusion when I see it in the mirror You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal I just pretend it isn't real I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try And I'll say to you
And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you? This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because cause I have to
Soon you'll get better Soon you'll get better You'll get better soon Cause you have to.
Dance Alone (Blanks)
James Potter being his usual idiotic adorable self. (It’s just the vibes, man.)
Been staring at the wall today, to find some hidden meaning My momma called to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of things to think So what's the point of dreaming? Called all my friends cause I cant get along with all my demons And I've been watching from a distance how the seasons change
Been staring at the wall today, still looking for some meaning I tried talking to myself for a change to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of room to think I need a higher ceiling
I've been lost, lost in the rhythm lately I don't know, know how to dance alone
Strawberry Blond (Mitski)
James falls in love with Sirius first - make no mistake, it was absolutely Sirius first. Because Sirius was just so bright, and so lovely, and so daring, and he made James laugh as they ran and drove and flew for miles without a direction. Anything for a touch.
And then there came Remus - beautiful, sweet, kind Remus, his eyes so gentle and his smiles so pure, and James wanted to hold him forever, wanted to take his hand and dive right into the sun, wanted to burst into flames. Anything for a taste.
And then Sirius and Remus fell in love with each other, and now James watches them from the outside, grinning behind tears and thinking, Oh god. I’m happy.
I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away, barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached
I love everybody because I love you I don't need the city, and I don't need proof All I need, darling, is a life in your shape I picture it soft and I ache
Reach out the car window, trying to hold the wind You tell me you love her, I give you a grin Oh, all I ever wanted was a life in your shape So I follow the white lines, keep my eyes on the road as I ache
Look at you, strawberry blond Fields rolling on, I love it when you call my name Can you hear the bumblebees swarm? Watching your arm, I love it when you look my way
FML (Arizona Zervas)
James has a habit of falling for people so fierce he can never refuse them. Regulus is just the last one - the one he keeps, even if he dies still trying to figure out how.
(This is the James and Regulus theme song, I’m calling it.)
I might let you drive me crazy Usually I ain't the type to stay Cause you could fall in, and go psycho Ain't no telling where this might go But I take my chances either way
You look like somebody that could really hold it down You look like somebody that would always stick around I know you probably crazy All my friends said stay away but that shit just don't faze me Got a little bit of sass, I like that You don't take no shit, yeah you fight back Never let a dude hit it on the first night I can't even sleep over til I wife that All these bitches in my phone, hit the boy But I've been curving everyone for you Girl I would give you every single password All you gotta do is let me through
Imma keep it honest, I know that you got a plan I know you ain't perfect, but basic bitches never last I don't usually do this type of shit So baby trust me when I tell you that I'm all about it Yeah, I might fall in love and let you fuck my life up Just so I could go and write a song about it
Last man left you brokenhearted, let me treat you right If you need me I could pull up any night You just say the words, girl, I don't need a reason Give me something more than just a lover on the weekend
Come and fuck my life up.
Lay Me Down (Sam Smith)
If James married Regulus instead, but the war still tore them apart and to shreds.
They still fall, they still die, they still lose… but James is captivated by grey eyes rather than green ones, at least in this lifetime. At least for now.
Yes, I do, I believe that one day I will be where I was Right there, right next to you And it's hard, the days just seem so dark The moon, and the stars are nothing without you Your touch, your skin, where do I begin? No words can explain the way I'm missing you Deny this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside These tears, they tell their own story Told me not to cry when you were gone But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong
Can I lay by your side, next to you? You And make sure you're alright I'll take care of you I don't want to be here if I can't be with you
Forever (... is a long time) (Halsey)
Remus didn’t know anyone could love him, the way he is. You can’t blame him for letting James and Sirius slip through his fingers when he didn’t know they would’ve stayed forever.
He wonders if happiness still sounds like his name on their lips.
I spent a long time watering a plant made out of plastic And I cursed the ground for growing green
I spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic And I cursed my tongue for being mean
Weightless, breathless, destitute Motionless and absolute He cut me open, sucked the poison from an aging wound Now fifty thousand walking deads would cower at this small brunette It's a nice surprise knowing six feet high Would reach and grab the moon if I should ask
Or just imply that I want you to be more light So I could look inside his eyes And get the colors just right
But love built provinces, callouses, break promises Cause I could never hold a perfect thing and not demolish it What am I thinking? What does this mean? How could somebody ever love me?
"Tell him he's got bad news coming..."
Used To This (Camila Cabello)
James and Sirius, crazy kids in mad love in a big Muggle city, dancing and kissing under the lights every night… and then meeting Remus, and wondering if all these years they’ve been mistaking magic for something else, because this, love, this is what magic is.
No, I never liked San Francisco Never thought it was nothing special Til you kissed me there No, I never liked windy cities But I think maybe when you're with me I like everywhere
It's the strangest feeling Midnight, I'm not leaving No, for once, I think I'll stay I say your name, just listen Doesn't it sound different? Never whispered it this way
It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this The feeling of your fingertips The feeling of another kiss Like every tattoo on your skin I'm memorizing every inch
The callouses on your fingers I admired them from a distance Now they're on my cheek
Oh, I've known you forever Now I know you better Let's just get carried away And it bears repeating Now my heart's bleeding When you tell me that you'll stay
It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this I could get used to this...
Love Me Like You (Little Mix)
You cannot tell me James and Sirius did not stand on top of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and serenade Remus with this while he covered his bright red face with his hands and damn near cried with embarrassment and laughter, because they did. I promise you, they did.
I solemnly swear.
Darling, he can't buy my love It's you I'm dreaming of
so baby, baby Come and save me
Last night I lay in bed so blue Cause I realized the truth They can't love me like you I've tried to find somebody new Baby, they ain't got a clue Can't love me like you
Come Home With Me (from “Hadestown”)
Sirius and James tripping over themselves trying to say hi the first time they meet Remus, his nose buried in a book in a small cafe, at a table by the window in a dress covered in sunflowers, his cheeks pink and his smile blinding.
OR
James, tripping over himself to win Severus over, who just isn’t having it. (Fuck off, Potter.) (Please?) (No.)
You wanna talk to her?
Yes!
Go on. Don't come on too strong.
Come home with me.
Who are you?
The man who's gonna marry you
Is he always like this?
Yes
Your name is like a melody
A singer, is that what you are?
I also play the lyre...
Oh, a liar, AND a player too! I've met too many men like you.
Oh, no. I'm not like that.
He's not like any man you've met.
That's what I'm working on - A song to fix what's wrong. Take what's broken, make it whole; A song so beautiful, it brings the world back into tune, back into time. And all the flowers will bloom... When you become my wife.
Oh, he's crazy. Why would I become his wife?
Maybe because he'll make you feel alive.
Alive? That's worth a lot... What else ya got?
You Belong With Me (Taylor Swift)
Sirius and James, unable to figure out why they're so bothered by the amount of people who have suddenly started flirting with Remus after the summer of fifth year.
He's just... he's theirs. Their werewolf. Their scrawny motherfucker. Their Moony.
Just.
Theirs.
Oh.
She doesn't get your humor like I do She'll never know your story like I do
Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while You say you're fine, I know you better than that
Standing by and waiting at your backdoor Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me about your dreams Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me...
Have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.
Scrawny (Wallows)
I just really love Remus Lupin, okay?
Used to be level with all my friends Still wear the same shoes I did back then I don't think they've ever been untied I can't regret the things I don't try I'd switch it up but I don't like change Only content if things stay the same Don't care to watch the story unfold Hate feeling like I'm not in control I've been sleeping with the light on I tend to freak myself out Will you come a little closer?
I say the wrong shit at the right times If I'm offending them, I don't mind Maybe they all should listen to me It isn't all about what you see Question though, how do I look to you? Am I so thin that you can see through? I've been sleeping with the light off I wanted to remember Will you come a little closer now?
I'll be one of those people you remember They'll be looking at us when were together I'll be a mannequin you can dismember You don't like my clothes but you still like my smile Take me home to mom but it'll take awhile They might think they're cooler than me by a mile I can still have wisdom and look like a child
I'm a scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle
Hate You (Seann Bowe)
Severus and Lily after the Incident. Still loving each other, but not knowing why or how. Having a million things to say, but never the words.
I'm sorry. What a tragic fucking joke.
Look at me now, such a pitiful place You found someone I thought that'd help erase These crazy thoughts that we were never broken You can't see red flags through rose colored glasses!
I killed you in my head now If I see you out with friends I'll just tell myself that it's a phantom or illusion Guess I haven't chosen which
I hate that I miss you, I hate that I'm lost I hate those dead flowers you taped to your wall I hate that you're okay and I can't move on I hate that somehow this is all my fault! I hate that I'm wide awake watching the door I hate these long showers sitting on the floor I hate in the end it was me who was wrong I hate that I don't really hate you at all
But I kind of wish I did...
I don't really hate you at all.
Bitter And The Sweetness (The Ready Set)
James and Sirius and Remus, dancing in the rain. Sirius is screaming up at the sky, and James is pulling Remus against him, quelling his shivering in an instant.
“I love you,” he whispers, and Remus beams, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him as Sirius screams, “ELECTRIFY ME MOTHERFUCKER!” at the clouds.
That’s love, bitch.
Troublemaker look on your face Followed by a smile and I melt away It ain't always been this lovely We turn the ice and start a fire, melt away
It don't happen overnight It's laughing after fights Knowing which song I should sing to make you smile again Your favorite flowers How I know before you say, "It's gonna be okay"
Love, I think we got time to make mistakes Bitter and the sweetness, I just love the taste
You give me trouble in the best way When you let your hair down I can't look away You've just always been that lovely We turn the dark into light You'll be staying close
Like the time we got stuck out in the rain When you took my hand said, "Baby, we should stay."
Serenade (BANNERS)
James Potter's ghost, watching over Sirius Black forevermore. You don't just leave your soulmate behind. Never.
Stolen, some people stay a life, some for a moment Some hearts they set a light just to be frozen And so we're out of time, broken But now you've got the chance to travel oceans I hope the world's as wide as you were hoping Don't let heartache cloud your mind
If the days go darker, darling And you lose your way Go on, go on, I'm not beside you But I'll be the song there in the silence Let go, let go, darling, it's over now You're on your own, but I'm on your shoulder I'll always be your serenade, serenade, I I'll always be your serenade
They told you It's not the being drunk, it's being sober That's when it really hits you that it's over It's hard to say goodbye So you can keep me Somewhere out of reach but if you need me Just hum these memories and you can feel me I'm always standing by Go and write your story, darling You will find your place
You can always remember that I'm here to ease your mind I'm on your side and You can call me and just like that I'll sing a song to bring you home, babe
It's Quiet Uptown (from "Hamilton")
Remus, alone. His husband gone, his friends dead, his family murdered. Nothing left for him, until...
"Padfoot."
A sheepish smile.
"Hi, Moony."
Remus takes a deep breath. Sirius reaches for his hand.
They'll figure it out.
There are moments that the words don't reach There is suffering too terrible to name You hold your child as tight as you can And push away the unimaginable The moments when you're in so deep It feels easier to just swim down And so they move uptown And learn to live with the unimaginable
I spend hours in the garden, I walk alone to the store And it's quiet uptown, I never liked the quiet before And I pray, that never used to happen before
If you see him in the street Walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity You would like it uptown, it's quiet uptown He is working through the unimaginable His hair has gone grey He passes every day They say he walks the length of the city You knock me out, I fall apart Can you imagine?
Look at where we are Look at where we started I know I don't deserve you But hear me out That would be enough If I could spare his life If I could trade his life for mine He'd be standing here right now And you would smile and that would be enough
I don't pretend to know The challenges we're facing I know there's no replacing what we've lost And you need time But I'm not afraid I know who I married Just let me stay here by your side That would be enough
There are moments that the words don't reach There's a grace too powerful to name We push away what we can never understand We push away the unimaginable They are standing in the garden Standing there side by side She takes his hand It's quiet uptown
Forgiveness, can you imagine? Forgiveness, can you imagine? If you see him in the street Walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity They are going through the unimaginable
Dynasty (MIIA)
The Marauders are dead and gone, did you know?
But they were great once. Unstoppable. Invincible, young, in love.
Can you tell? Can you...
Remember?
Some days, it's hard to see if I was a fool or you a thief Made it through the maze to find my one in a million And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living The scar I can't reverse And the more it heals, the worse it hurts Gave you every piece of me, no wonder it's missing Don't know how to be so close to someone so distant
And all I gave you is gone Tumbled like it was stone It all fell down, it all fell down
Thought we built a dynasty that heaven couldn't shake Thought we built a dynasty like nothing ever made Thought we built a dynasty forever couldn't break up.
Dancing After Death (Matt Maeson)
Oh. It's you. You're here.
I never thought I'd see you again.
Do I know better than this? You're a word that I can't forget Though the thought rattles my brain Will you fold or will you remain?
If I don't get better than this man in my skin If I let go, would you hold on? Would we fly? Is it safer if we just say that we tried? Are we laughing at the danger?
As the sun waits to eclipse And the taste teases my lips I'm too tired to wrestle with it Will we burn, or will we repent?
Are we dancing after death, you and I?
19 notes · View notes
valwrite · 4 years ago
Text
leap frog; daveed diggs
masterlist.
summary: rafael casal can’t keep a secret. (read the sequels: hopscotch, hide & seek.)
warnings: possible second hand embarrassment, fluff, mentions of murder, cursing
fic type: drabble
word count: 2366
author’s note:  ahaha, i hate myself for writing this but i also love it, gn. feedback is appreciated! oh, and if i don’t reply to a comment or something, it’s just cause i’m dumb as shit and haven’t figured out how tf to do that yet 🥰
It was official. Y/N L/N was going to murder Rafael Casal.
And, boy, would she make sure it looked like an accident.
The man was a nuisance, a mad man, a big mouthed buffoon. And the reason she now had to avoid one Daveed Diggs at all costs from here on out. Considering Rafael lived just one door down from her made this a challenge, as Daveed had a habit of treating the other man's apartment as a second home.
The trouble began two weeks prior, when, after a miserable night out, Y/N had stumbled into the building elevator, feet aching to get out of her heels and breasts desperate to be freed from their confinement. Before she'd had the chance to press her floor button, a hand slid between the closing doors and in stepped Rafael Casal. The two exchanged glances and greetings before riding up to their shared floor in a comfortable and welcomed silence. Had this exchange taken place three months before, perhaps Y/N would have felt a lot more awkward and intimidated by her attractive neighbor. However, things had changed between them ever since they'd become friends. She'd tag along on nights out with his friends (who'd seamlessly welcomed her in as one of their own) and he'd come round for dinner every time he so much as smelt her cooking from next door. The elevator had reopened and the hallway they shared came into view. That was when Rafa made the proposal she'd end up regretting: “Do you wanna come in for a few drinks?”
She'd accepted because, well, it was free alcohol. The fact that his company was anything but bad was just an added bonus. A few drinks turned into many, even some shots finding their way into the mix of things, as she and Rafa talked the night away: she shared details of the horrible blind date she'd been set up on that evening while he ranted about how insufferably boring Daveed had been, claiming the man hadn't brightened up the whole night after hearing Y/N would not be in attendance at their get-together. She was sure her cheeks had turned as red as they'd felt when Rafa made that revelation.
The real mistake came towards the end of their drinking session and, really, neither of them knew how to explain how or why they wound up locking lips. What they did know was the following: it was a meaningless kiss, both of them laughed right after and it had been the most uncomfortable kiss either of the two had shared in their adult lives. Kissing him, Y/N would later realize, wasn't the problem though. It was what the kiss had unearthed.
“Oh my god, you have the hots for Diggs?!”
In three months of friendship, Y/N had learned three fundamental things about Rafael Casal:  he preferred pancakes over waffles, friendship with him was a package deal that included Daveed Diggs and, lastly, Rafael Casal was the biggest gossip in town.
Any secret, any hook up, any scandal. You name it and it was almost a guarantee that, not only did Rafa know about it but he was the source of it all. So, having him become aware on the fact she had a massive crush on his best friend? Yeah, there was no chance in hell Y/N could ever speak to Daveed again without self-combusting in embarrassment.
Now, back to present times, where Y/N finds herself tiptoeing around her own apartment, anything capable of making noise switched off and her own breathing being the only sound in the living space. Five minutes had passed since Daveed had last knocked at her door, saying nothing but her name yet still managing to put her on edge.
The logical part of her brain told her to open the door, because the poor guy was probably just confused as to why she had suddenly started ignoring his texts and stopped hanging with him and Rafa while they watched the Warriors play. The rest of her brain told her to stay put, wait it out and, once she was sure Diggs had left the building, grab the participation trophy she'd been given back in elementary school and use it to go beat Rafael's ass.
Operation: Avoid Double D was working, much to her own surprise, and she'd even started to feel a little impressed with herself when- thud! - a noise came from her balcony. The door of it lay wide open, much like the book she'd been reading out there before Daveed had come knocking, but the curtains were drawn shut, gently moving with the breeze from outside. Like a scene from a cheesy horror movie, she approached the balcony with caution, reached out to draw the curtain aside and gasped at the sight of Daveed comfortably sat in her chair, skimming through her book- a very, very worn out copy of Emma by Jane Austen - and sipping on her iced tea.
“I... How... What...” There wasn't a coherent sentence to be found in Y/N's brain. “Why are you on my balcony?”
“Well,” Daveed snapped her book shut and discarded it on to the small table next to him, all the while smiling innocently up at her. “I knocked on the door and you didn't answer.”
“So you figured breaking and entering was the only solution?!”
“Hey, hey, there was no breaking involved. Just, y'know, entering.” He stood up, reminding her of how much taller he was. “You're the one that left your balcony door open to the world, I just took advantage of that and jumped over from Rafa's.”
Y/N couldn't help but turn her back on him to gaze over at Rafael's own balcony. A fresh batch of laundry had been sat out to dry on it and Y/N noticed how the only plant Rafa owned had now died, nothing left but a dried up mess in it's place. She then thought of the space between the two balconies and, more importantly, the space beneath them both. Granted, she wasn't living in some top floor luxury apartment but she imagined a seven story drop was nothing short of unpleasant. Yet there was Daveed, all smiles and charms, having just jumped over the space as if it were nothing but some innocent, childish game of leap frog. She both wanted to scold him for being so reckless and praise him for being so brave.
Until she remembered the fact she was supposed to be avoiding him and this, clearly, was ruining any of her attempts.
“What do you need so badly from me that it compelled you to do something as stupid as that?” It seemed to be that scolding was the option she'd chosen.
“Answers.” Oh god no. That's it, time to eBay a body bag and a fake passport.
“Answers to what exactly?” When she was a child, Y/N had always tried to play coy to avoid confrontation. It appeared to be she hadn't changed much with age.
“Do you have any of those blueberry muffins left?” Okay, that was not where she thought this conversation was going. “Rafa ran out of the batch you made him and he's too afraid to ask you for more, since you demanded payment last time, so he sent me over here to charm two muffins out of your pantry.”
“You're in luck. I made some last night.” They could have every last piece of food in her kitchen for all she cared, so long as that were the only thing Daveed wanted from her. Though, she was still contemplating manslaughter when it came to Rafa considering he'd sent over Daveed, knowing fine well why she was steering clear of the man. He was shameless in his meddling.
“So,” Daveed's voice and footsteps followed behind her into the apartment as she desperately aimed for the kitchen area. “how come you didn't answer the door earlier?”
“I was, uh,” I was trying to avoid you because I want nothing more than to bake muffins with you and have you nakedly recite poetry to me and that's an issue because we're friends and you don't even think about me that way. “Shower. I was showering.”
“You hair's not wet.”
“Never heard of a hair dryer? Jeez old man, catch up.” At this point, her hands were clammy from her own nervous sweat but she'd pulled out the tray of muffins and shoved the lot of them over to him. All she had to do was get him out of her apartment, then things would be fine. “Here you go, thanks for stopping by. See you later.”
“Wow, wow, wow! Calm down, girl!” Did he have to smile at her like that? “Why're you trying to get rid of me? I asked for two muffins, Y/N, not the whole batch.”
“Just take them, I forgot that I don't really like blueberries anyways.” If there was an Olympic sport for colossal idiots, she'd have won gold, silver and bronze.
“You didn't answer my question,” Daveed took one step forward and she took one step back, internally screaming as she felt her back bump against the counter. “why're you trying to get rid of me?”
“I'm not!”
“Okay then, why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”
“Because I lost my phone.”
“The same phone that I saw on your coffee table?”
“You found it! My hero!” The body bag was no longer going to be used on Rafa, she was pretty sure she was one more comment away from dying of embarrassment.
“Y/N.” When had Daveed gotten so close to her? And why did he have to say her name like that? Her hand gripped on to the surface behind her and she gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact with him.
“Daveed.” She replied lamely, just begging that he'd turn around, grab the tray of muffins and leave.
“What's really up?” His words were softer and more serious, much like the look in his eyes. “You won't answer your phone, you haven't watched the recent games with us, you won't answer the door to me. I just... Look, if I done something or said something that made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I really miss you though, so does Rafa. So if there's anything I can do to fix whatever I did, just tell me. I'll do it. Anything.”
And now, ladies and gentleman, please buckle your seat-belts and get ready for take off, destination: Guilt Trip.
“No. Fuck, Daveed, no. You didn't do anything. Trust me, it's all my fault. I'm really sorry.” The words tumbled out of her quickly whilst her eyes fixated themselves with staring down at her nervous hands. “I know that Rafa told you and, just, I'm really sorry. I promise, I'm trying to get rid of them, it's why I've sort of been avoiding you. I don't want to ruin our friendship.”
“Rafa told me... what? Who are you trying to get rid of?”
“Wait,” Oh sweet hypothetical baby Jesus, had Rafael Casal not spilled the beans? Did he really not know? “he didn't tell you?”
“I'm confused.” Daveed said, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he continued to gaze down at her. “Was he supposed to tell me something? Wait, did he make a move on you or something? Cause I'll put him in his place if I have to.”
“Technically we made a move on each other.” The words flew out of her before she could stop it and she noticed immediately how his face contorted into a frown. “Not in that way! It was just a drunk kiss that we both regretted.”
“And he was supposed to tell me about it?”
“Huh? No! Ugh, look Daveed,” She'd already made a fool of herself enough, she may as well just round it all off with the mother of all embarrassments. Go big or go home, right? And, well, she was technically already home and with nowhere else to go. “I like you. Like, the way a bee likes honey or the way a dog likes a bone. A lot. But I get it, you don't like me and that's chill but would you please just give me the time and space to sort myself out and get over it so we can go back to being friends?”
“But I don't wanna be friends with you, Y/N.” Well done, idiot. So much for honesty being the best policy. “I mean, I don't know how I feel about being compared to honey or a bone but I do know how I feel about you. I think you're smart and beautiful, and stubborn and kind of a dork. And I really like it, you. I really like you.”
“Oh.” Oh? Oh?! Fucking oh!? That's all you can say to that. She couldn't stand living in her own head-space.
“I'm gonna ignore the fact that you and Rafa made out or whatever and just get straight to the point of asking you on a date. Tomorrow night, seven pm. Wear something easy to move around in.” Gentle fingers tilted Y/N's head up by her chin, forcing her to stare into his eyes. They were warm and welcoming, like chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven and melting with love. “Who knows, maybe by the end of the night you'll finally get a good kiss from a Bay Boy.”
“Why would Rafa kiss me at the end of our date?” At least she could still joke among the shock. “And you more or less just demanded I go on a date with you. No questions were made.”
“If demanding is what it takes,” He leaned down, his mouth hovering dangerously close to hers. “then so be it.”
Where she'd expected a kiss, she found nothing but empty space and the sight of Daveed picking two muffins out of the tray. Wide eyed and honestly a little confused about what events had just transpired in her kitchen, she watched as he finally headed for her door, suddenly not enjoying the thought of him leaving as much as before.
“Oh, and Y/N?” He was halfway out of her apartment, grinning back at her. “Rafa did tell me, I just wanted to hear you say it yourself.”
He slammed the door shut on the sound of Y/N cursing out the very man that was Rafael Casal.
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pressedinthepages · 4 years ago
Text
Mysa
Swedish. verb. to engage in an activity that is comfortable and pleasurable, especially at home; being content and cozy.
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Jaskier x Reader
Word Count: 2337
Rating: E
Masterlist
a/n: Reader Request: “Hey! Could you please write a oneshot, where the female reader is a talented healer but even after years she hasn't found a proper solution for her menstrual cramps and she get's so annoyed and desperate that she agrees to Jaskiers (who is a friend of her) suggestion to have sex with him (because he heard somewhere that that helps some people)? Where first she tries to just see it under a scientific issue but soon things get really hot and at the end fluffy? :3″ (this has also been posted to AO3 but I don’t wanna link to an outside site cause of the whole thing with the tags…we’ll see what happens)
Tags:  @whitewolfandthefox @havenoffandoms @MishaFaye @criminaly-supernatural   (There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)
Warnings: smut, period sex, cramping, no graphic descriptions of blood.
You have reached the end of your rope, frustrated beyond belief, but Jaskier extends an offer to help you.
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    A fresh blanket of snow has settled over the town of Oxenfurt. A lit fireplace warms your little home in the residential wings of campus. You work as an instructor, teaching courses in alchemy and healing. You’ve even written several books on the topics, so you’d think that people would trust your opinion when you say that there is nothing that you can do.
    “Are you sure that you’ve tried everything???” Jaskier’s voice rings through the air, walking towards where you are settled on the couch in front of the fire. You roll your eyes as he hands over a warm mug of chamomile tea, careful not to disturb the little pouch of raw beans placed low on your stomach. You’ve been in pain for two days now, your bleed has always been a source of horrible discomfort for you. You’ve been able to manage during those days, and have tried concocting countless mixtures to attempt to quell the pain. So far, however, nothing has proven effective. 
    You have also told Jaskier this several times already. You know he’s just trying to help, but it’s getting to be a bit much. He showed up at your door right at the beginning of winter, bashfully telling you that he was in search of a place to stay for the season. You happily welcomed him into your home, grateful to have an old friend keep you company for a while.
    Now, Jaskier sits on the couch by your feet, the picture of relaxation. You’ve always held a bit of a candle for him, but you have long accepted that he only sees you as a friend. You adore his friendship, but in moments like this, you can’t help but wonder what could’ve been. 
    You watch the light from the fire dance across his features, licking tendrils of warmth down his neck and across his chest where a dusting of dark hair peeks from the open buttons of his chemise. The sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows, and his shoes have been kicked away in a corner. Even Jaskier’s hair seems relaxed, the chestnut locks gently disheveled as they fall over his forehead.  
    “You know,” he startles you out of your dream as you feel a cramp low in your stomach, as if someone had stuck their hand in your abdomen, grabbed a hold of your insides, and decided to give them a good squeeze, just for the fun of it. Jaskier notices the grimace of pain on your face and continues, his voice low and soothing, “There was a woman I once knew, lovely lady really, she had a similar problem and I actually ended up being able to help her!”
    He looks over at you with a smile, boyish dimples in his cheeks, and his eyes shining like a clear sky on a summer day. You crook an eyebrow at him, skeptical to say the least. When you were at university together, Jaskier had never excelled at the sciences, his talents being more focused on the languages and arts. You were both miserable at maths, and would always end up sulking together after exams with a large bottle of wine.
    “And how, pray tell, did you help?” you inquire, nudging the side of his leg with your foot. He looks over at you then, his bright blue eyes meeting yours as a blush climbs up his chest and settles on his cheeks.
    “Ah-well, she had told me, uh, that she had, in the past, uh...had others, well other men-”
    “Come on, Jask, spit it out already, I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” you cut off his stammering with a stern eye, sipping your tea as you wait.
    Jaskier clears his throat, looking back at the fire as he murmurs, “She said that having sex, and reaching a climax, would help with the pain…”
    Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, the tea scalding your throat as you quickly swallow. “Well,” you cough, “I actually hadn’t heard that one before.”
    You both sit in silence for a moment, your mind racing. What was he implying? Are there any books on this? Who was this other woman, and why do you care?
    “Did it work?” you whisper, barely audible over the crackle of the fire. Jaskier huffs out a smile, still refusing to meet your eyes. 
    “Yeah, she said that it had helped immensely...besides, even if it hadn’t, she would’ve still enjoyed herself anyways.” Jaskier looks over at you now with a wink, his eyes glinting with mirth and hubris. 
    You gasp, mockingly astounded as you sit up, setting the mug of tea on the floor before you do. “Hmmm, the theory is intriguing...are you offering?”
    Jaskier’s eyes widen, a small tremor in his voice as he speaks, “I would be happy to help you, if you wish.”
    You bite your lip, mulling over your options. It’s not a difficult decision on your part, the voice in the back of your head screaming triumphantly as you hold out a slightly shaking hand to him. Jaskier looks down at your hand and back to you, seemingly making a decision in his head before placing his own hand in yours. He rises to a stand, pulling you with him as you leave the now cooled bag of beans on the couch. 
“Shall we go to the bed, dear?” He whispers, gently pulling you back towards it. His hand is soft in yours, his fingers calloused from years of honing his craft. You both come to a stop at the edge of the bed, hesitating to take the next step. 
“Are you sure about this Julian?” you ask, his true name slipping out from your lips. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this…”
Jaskier takes his free hand and brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. “Darling, I promise you that I only ever do things that please me, and this? This would please me more than anything.”
His words send a shiver down your spine as you feel a low ache in your core. Not a cramp, something deeper, sweeter, harder to ignore. He pulls you close, leaning his head down to yours as he closes his eyes. You close yours as well, meeting his lips as you rest your hand on his shoulder.
Jaskier’s lips are soft, a warm back and forth as you sink into his chest. He is a rock, steady against your rising sea. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as you move your hand to thread in his hair, gripping his hand tighter with your other. 
“Wait, wait,” you say, suddenly breaking away from the kiss. Jaskier has always worn his heart on his sleeve, but he looks truly open and vulnerable when you look at him. You move your hands up, feeling his heart pound against his chest under your fingers. His chemise is soft from years of wear, and he smells lightly of the rosemary soap that you keep by the tub.
“We should take these off,” you say as you tug at Jaskier’s shirt. He chuckles as he pulls back from you, lifting the chemise over his head. He then takes your hand and spins you around, his fingers working at the laces of your dress at the nape of your neck. You feel the fabric gradually loosen around your shoulders as he pushes it down, placing a hot trail of kisses over the newly exposed skin.
The dress puddles on the floor as Jaskier’s hands rove over your body, his chin resting on your shoulder as he admires your body. His touch leaves embers in its wake, up and down your hips and around your breasts as he kneads the tender flesh. He makes a small noise in your ear, something light but lined with wanting.
You turn back to him, your own hands traveling through the coarse hair on his chest. You feel him suck in a breath as they travel lower, swiftly undoing the laces on his trousers before he steps back and shucks them off. You take the opportunity to step out of your own underthings, along with the soiled rag that you use to protect your clothes,  throwing them unceremoniously across the room. 
You feel Jaskier’s eyes burn a trail over your form as he approaches you, placing his hands on your hips as he leans to whisper in your ear, “Lay down on the bed, love, let me take care of you.”
You do, resting on your elbows as you watch him settle over you. You can’t help but appreciate the art that has presented itself in front of you, shamelessly studying the planes of his body. Jaskier has always been lean, but seeing him bare like this exposes the strength that his clothes typically conceal. His shoulders are broad, arms lined with muscles built from years of traveling the continent with his lute in hand. His legs are much the same, long and sturdy as they straddle your own. 
Now, you’ve never really been one for the arts. You tend to stumble over rhymes and prose, but by gods, just looking at Jaskier’s cock makes you want to write volumes of poetry. Jutting out from his hips in a hard line, with just the most delicious curve upwards, you can’t help when your hand moves to wrap around him. 
He chokes a strangled gasp as your fingers circle his length, his hands tightening on your hips. You stroke him slowly, feeling the heavy throbbing as he starts to rut into your grip. You remove your hand and reach up, Jaskier whining as you bring him to lay atop of you. His weight encompasses you, secure but not suffocating as you feel him try to discreetly rock his hips where his cock now presses against your thigh. 
“Jaskier,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair as you look into his eyes. They shine in the moonlight from the window, this corner of the room far enough away from the fireplace that the waves of fire only barely touch his figure. His eyes feel like they are staring into your soul, peeling back the layers that years of silent yearning have built up. 
“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he kisses you deeply, moaning into your mouth as you shift your legs to wrap around his hips. You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance, sparks flying under your skin with the slightest touch. He moves slowly, pressing into your core and stretching you as your back arches off the bed. This feels so much more than the other times you’ve been intimate, the typically dull ache now a roaring fire that burns with pleasure as he stills once he is fully inside of you. 
You rake your nails down the length of his body, reaching to grab handfuls of his ass where he is sheathed in you. Jaskier gasps into your mouth, a dark growl that sends vibrations through your veins. You begin to rock your hips against him, insatiable in the face of such strong pleasure. You can feel your climax already building, quickly becoming an approaching tide that you can’t outrun.
“Ah, wait, wait love, or this will be over far too quickly, I won’t be able to last long like this,” Jaskier’s voice is husky as his lips brush against yours with every word. His hips start to thrust into yours despite his words, snapping quickly as he builds your pleasure even quicker.
“Good, I-I’ll not last long either, please, Jaskier,” you murmur against him, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he spears deep within you. You can feel him groan into your lips as his resolve snaps, animalistic as his thrusts turn sloppy. He presses against a spot deep in your core with each movement, causing you to cry out with every touch. His lips move to suck a mark into your neck as you fall over the precipice of pleasure, your vision whiting out as sparks fly behind our eyes. 
Everything is so much more intense like this, everything is so much more sensitive and he is over you and in you and mindlessly rutting into you and you cry out into the void as your climax overtakes you. You instinctively curl up around Jaskier, but he holds you open with his body as his thrusts speed up and he suddenly stills inside of you. He bites down hard on your neck and moans your name as he finds his release, hot and thick as your walls flutter around him, coaxing every last bit of his pleasure from him. 
You stay like this for what could be minutes or days, neither of you wanting to move from the aftermath of bliss. Although, now that you are able to think about it-
“You know what?” you say, pulling his gaze back to you. His eyes are a bit hazy, still coming down from the mind-shattering that orgasm brings, though he seems intent on listening to your words. “I think it worked.”
Jaskier smiles and it is like the sun is shining into the little room in the middle of winter, warming you through in his embrace. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of you, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness. Jaskier reaches around him and sets your legs down onto the bed as he moves to rise, only stopping when you reach out a hand to him to stay.
“I just thought of something else that may be quite nice,” he purrs, his eyes glinting with something so distinctly Jaskier that it takes your breath away. When you hum in question, still not moving, he threads his fingers through yours and pulls you to sit up.
He leans down, his mouth right next to your ear as he whispers, low and dark, “how about a bath?”
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Text
Something to Uplift Us
Ao3,  MasterPost
Relationships:  Romantic DLAMPR (Roman-centric, kinda Remus-centric), platonic Creativitwins!!!
Do I like this??? Meh. Is it something that I wrote? Yes. I will heal myself from SVS-R with Fluff.
Warnings: Remus Typical Nonsense, swearing, mentions of being in Quarantine, all sympathetic sides, non-sexual Pole Dancing
Word Count: 2,667 
Roman was the essence of romance and it showed. For his entire existence, he'd been well acquainted with the hypothetical. If he were his own person, if he had a prince of his own, if he had the chance at a romantic relationship, he knew what he would do. Roman knew relationships, he always had, and it had tortured him to know that he'd never have one.
Which was why it frustrated him to no end that he hadn’t been the one to ask out his fellow sides. He’d honestly never thought that it would be an option. When he first developed his feelings for the others- Virgil, Patton, Logan, Janus, in that order- he had felt nothing more than excitement. He was giddy, he was light-headed, just to know that he could feel that way. He would spend hours daydreaming, just musing over the way they made his heart stop, but he never hoped for anything to come of it. He wasn’t sad, or mournful, or pining per se- just so caught up in the joy of feelings that he forgot that he could do something with them. 
So he thought about it a lot, suffice to say. And all he had now was time to think; it was nearly month three of quarantine. Roman had wrung his brain out like a sponge for anything new to think about- The Imagination was practically turning gray! He tried to tend to it, truly he did, but it was getting harder every day. Creativity's fellow sides had all busied themselves taking up new hobbies- Virgil was teaching Patton to draw, Janus had learnt embroidery, Logan took up knitting, Remus made trash sculptures… They all seemed to be having their own little renaissance (complete with plague), and what was Roman doing? Wasting valuable free time!
  In a fit of desperation, the artistic trait dived under his large canopy bed, rummaging around until his hand caught on the lip of a cardboard box. With no small amount of effort, he pulled the enormous container out from under his bed so that it could be properly examined. There, piled high in the box, were dozens of notebooks and sketchbooks- all of which filled to the brim with writing, drawings, and poetry. Having no clue what he was specifically looking for, Roman upended the box and watched the contents crash to the floor. Something in here would surely spark his mind! Perhaps some old work would catch his eye and inspire some redraws!
The side hadn't needed to search for long. Right at the top of the pile- bright pink, its cover dotted with puffy heart stickers- sat a large, spiral-bound sketchbook. You could almost see the light bulb pop up over Roman’s head as he squealed and snatched up the sketchbook. Flopping down onto his bed, he flipped it open in one hand and placed the other against his chest. 
“Ooh, some of my best,” he cooed to no one in particular, gaze turned to the dozens of love poems surrounded by little doodles of hearts that filled the pages. This was the journal he’d confided in before the sides had all officially begun their relationship, filled with flowery prose about anything from Janus’ scales to Patton’s smile; from Logan’s laugh to Virgil’s freckles (a rare sight, usually hidden by make-up). Roman was so lost in nostalgia that when the ideas hit him, he nearly fell out of bed in excitement at his own thoughts.
Of course! He could take all of these old writings and compose them together, into one eloquent amalgam that would illustrate perfectly all those things that he’d been unable to articulate in the beginning! And it seemed only fitting that such a soliloquy be delivered in The Imagination- in the most gorgeous scenario he could fabricate! Somewhere open to a starry sky, for his left-brained loves- but it had to have ornate architecture, of course, and it had to be cozy. Oh, it was all coming together now.
Roman leapt out of bed, posing with his hand above his head and sinking deeper into The Mindscape extravagantly. He didn’t waste time looking around at the depressing half-formed scenery, sweeping his arms up and erasing the entirety of his half of The Imagination. Time to get to work.
Remus was stretched across the Commons couch, his head in Janus’ lap and feet in Logan’s. The TV hummed with whatever show they’d thrown on as background noise, and a few feet away at the counter, Patton and Virgil were hovering over some sort of scrapbook.  Nobody had the energy for conversation; nobody had the energy for anything. 
It was magnificently boring. The Duke already filled up an entire sketchbook, written half a dozen shamelessly smutty self-insert fanfictions, constructed and subsequently destroyed eldritch beings in his room, and bothered his boyfriends. So, all that was left to do was doze.
It didn’t help Remus’ tired state that Janus was running his fingers through his hair. The monotonous waking world was finally slipping away. Maybe there was something buried in his dreams that could hold his attention.
But just before sleep took hold, a white-hot energy ran through the trait’s body, jolting him so suddenly that he tumbled off of the couch and onto the floor. His arms and legs were all pins-and-needles as he looked up at his very concerned partners.
“There’s fuckery afoot!” Remus announced, wide-eyed. He pulled himself up and grinned, “You guys stay here!” 
Without so much as a good-bye, Remus threw himself into the ground, saving himself the time of sinking out properly. After a moment’s silence, Janus resumed working on his embroidery. 
“Should we go see what that was about?” Patton asked tentatively. 
“Meh,” the three other sides responded in unison. After a moment, Janus added, “It is Remus, after all.”
Roman’s structure was coming together beautifully! Wide marble columns rose up and held aloft the glimmering silver ceiling, the middle of which was a sky-light open to thousands of stars and a brilliant full moon. Surrounding the opening was a spiral of stone roof- through the gaps of which even more astronomically accurate stars shone!
The inside of the building consisted of an immense mahogany stage, currently cloaked by thick velvet curtains and overlooking plenty of seats. Rather than traditional theater rows, Roman had arranged the seating like lovely cafe tables, all of which were given generous space from each other (Except for two at the very front, of course). Lanterns hung from the walls, casting the space in warm lighting. Creativity currently stood at the very back, thinking that it could use just a little more of something. With a smirk, the side snapped his fingers and the wall of the room was pushed backwards several yards. With a few more flicks of the wrist and dividing columns, a little lobby was formed. 
He’d given the theater room maroon carpeting and rich gray walls, but the new back section needed brighter lighting and a more cream-canary color scheme. Now he could just finish the decor!
Or he would have, if not for the fact that at that moment someone crashed into his ribs with all the grace of a flaming motorbike. 
“BRO!!!”
“ACK-!” was all Roman managed, as all the wind was knocked out of him. He glared up at his brother, who was sitting on his chest. 
“I knew you were up to something! You wiped half of the whole fucking Imagination! What is this!?” 
Roman wheezed, pushed Remus off of his chest, and finally pulled himself off the ground to catch his breath. His brother was spinning around the room already, eyes sparkling as he took in the building.
“I had to blank it, I needed my full focus,” Roman explained, back to work and filling the back wall with tall bookshelves, “and it’s a surprise, so don’t tell the others.”
“Oh, I won’t. Provided you let me in on whatever this is,” Remus had an ear-to-ear grin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. After a moment’s consideration, Roman hummed.
“I’m doing something nice for our boyfriends. I think we all could use a little pick-me-up, so do not ruin this!”
“I wanna do something nice for them! Lemme help!” 
“You don’t even know what it’s for! Plus, it’s personal!”
“I already asked what it was for, Stupid.”
Roman huffed.
“I wrote them something. Hence the stage.”
“So, what, you’re gonna bring them all into your fancy library-opera for your poetry orgy and I sit in a corner somewhere and be quiet?”
“Ideally.”
“Not a chance, Whore!” Remus swung himself up onto the concession stand that Roman had just created, tearing into a box of candy (food made in The Imagination always tasted weirder than food or ingredients they conjured elsewhere in the Mindscape, but he didn’t particularly mind). 
“Fine. What do you want to do?” Roman challenged, hands on his hips.
“I. Want. To. Help.”
Roman raised his eyebrows doubtfully. Grumbling, his twin started gesturing around the room as he spoke.
“The stars are too bright, they take the focus away from the stage instead of accenting it. The color of the curtains are too similar to the carpet. You’ve got Corinthian shit in there and bookstore lobby vibes in here, which is garbage and inconsistent.”
Roman blinked, his eyes following along with Remus’ criticism. 
“Hm. You have a point.”
“I’m Creativity too, you know. I have some taste.” The Duke said, gnawing on the cardboard box that had contained Imagination Candy moments before. 
“You’re wearing crocs and jorts, simultaneously.”
Remus waved his hand dismissively, hopping off the counter and rushing across the room.
“Whatever. Come on, I’ve got an idea how I can accompany your performance, too.”
“Oh, goody.”
Hours had past and little had changed in the Mindscape living room- Virgil and Patton had finished up their scrapbooking and were curled up together in an armchair, so Logan was sitting at the counter space previously occupied by the two and clacking away on his laptop, and Janus hadn’t moved. The muddled energy of the room had remained pervasive.
That was, until the door to the imagination slammed open, the doorknob cracking against the wall. Four heads shot up to see Remus and Roman, standing side-by-side (quite looking the part of identical twins, matching smiles and all). 
“Oh god,” Janus groaned instinctively, carefully setting his embroidery on a side table, “What did you two do?”
“Yeah, I don’t trust that look,” Virgil said.
The twins scoffed in mock-offense, continuing their odd coordination.
“We try to do something nice,” exclaimed Remus.
“And not so much as a ‘thank you,’” added Roman solemnly. Eyes were rolled, but Patton perked up considerably (just as planned). 
“Ooo, what are you talking about?” 
“It’s a surprise!” Said The Duke, bouncing up and down. Creativity Prime gave a sweeping motion to indicate the still-open door to the Imagination, which had been steadily seeping into the common room with a bright new energy that it had been lacking for days. 
“Follow us,” he instructed, disappearing through the door once more with Remus at his back. Patton bounced after them immediately, grinning. 
The three left-brained sides exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed suit. 
The twins were backstage in an instant, trusting their partners to figure out where their seats were on their own. Roman began pacing around as soon as they finished warming up. 
“Are you sure you can do this? I’m still not sure if your performance is well-suited to acoustic guitar-”
He was cut off by Remus groaning exaggeratedly.
“I can work with anything, bitch.” 
“Right, right,” There was a beat. “You’re sure you’re ready?”
“I’ve been ready. What’s going on with you?”
Rather than responding, Roman did another lap around the stage. 
“C’mon! Stop pacing before I take a bonesaw to your legs!”
“Okay! Alright! I’m ready!”
Before Remus could come up with any more gruesome threats, Roman snapped his fingers and the curtains began to rise. He took his place half-sitting on a stool up front, a guitar in his arms. Behind him, Remus stood between two sturdy metal poles that rose from the stage and into the ceiling. You can already see where this is going.
When the stage was fully revealed, the lights above the audience dimmed. Figuring that the show would be rather awkward if said audience consisted of four people, the Creativities had The Imagination render dozens of prop-people. They moved and acted like a crowd of humans, but each individual was too vague to focus on for long. Thus it was made very clear where their fellow sides were, sitting right up front with a wide array of expressions from amazed to amused to bewildered.
Roman took a moment to steel himself and then began playing. Originally, he’d planned on spoken-word for his loves, but traditionally there is music involved in pole-dancing, so he’d made a few adjustments in order for Remus to be able to contribute. 
Roman started singing, melting as the gazes of the real audience members turned awestruck (and also very flushed, likely from whatever surprisingly impressive poses his brother was pulling behind him). He liked to think that he poured his heart out into every performance, but for this one it felt quite literal. 
Roman’s voice picked up gradually, and he could vaguely hear metal clanging behind him. It went on like that for a good few minutes- because if there was one thing the Twins weren’t, it was brief- before the show finally concluded. Roman stalled for a moment as both the imaginary and real components of the audience applauded uproariously. Remus swung down from the pole and hopped over to him.
“We bow now, Dumbass,” he hissed, noticeably out of breath.
“Oh- right.”
They took hands and took a couple bows as the clapping died down, standing back up with wide grins and red faces. 
As soon as the auditorium was relatively silent, Patton rushed the stage. He outstretched his arms and hopped up and down excitedly.
“Lemme up!” 
Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him on stage while Remus was still attempting to catch his breath. Morality leaned down to give The Prince a brief kiss, and then bounced over to the much more exhausted half of the act to give him the same treatment. He was grinning so wide that it looked painful, his face a bright pink. The Duke wore a matching expression, but the smile was much more unnatural in that preferred way of his.
“So you liked it?”
Rather than verbally responding, Patton grabbed the hands of both Creativities and made a cheerful ribbiting sound.
“It was wonderful,” Logan supplied, climbing the stairs on the side of the stage to meet them, Virgil and Janus right behind him. He was much less outwardly enthusiastic as the other spectacled side, but no less appreciative.
“Yeah, did you guys put all this together today?” Virgil asked, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulders. 
“What else did we have to do?” Remus answered with a shrug. 
“Good point.”
Janus cleared his throat lightly, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes were noticeably rimmed with redness, a small smile on his face as he outstretched all of his arms.
“Here, all of you, now.”
Patton cooed.
“Group hug!” 
Fitting six people into one hug may seem awkward, but it always seemed to work out for the sides. At least, Roman thought so. Virgil would fake exasperation at the affection, but they could all tell he loved it. Logan would try to maintain his dignity and fail miserably. Patton was a ball of warmth and energy that seeped into the rest of them. Janus was by far the best at giving hugs, though it could be considered cheating to have extra limbs.
At that moment it hit Roman that, perhaps he hadn’t started this relationship, but he was still a part of it. And that was all he could ever want.
These    Performances    inspired Remus’. They are oddly calming to watch, and super impressive!
@shrimp-crockpot
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viviswtings · 4 years ago
Text
Sinners. (Mature).
So this is something I thought for the novel I’m actually writing (or that’s what I tell myself). The boy mentioned is completely based off Hwang Hyunjin. But I never name him so he could be whoever. Just like I never say the princesse’s name just to let you all live your dream (and by that I mean me. I wanna live my princess dream with Hyunjin). 
Words:1764.
Warnings: It’s very angsty. It takes place in an ottoman harem like setting, so some of the expressions could be politically or socially incorrect. Also there is mentions of blood, loss of family members, fratricide and prostitution.
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She wasn’t meant to be there at such an hour. It was too early, to soon to be wandering around the cold stone halls of the palace. Her satin slippers clicked softly against the marble floor, the freezing feeling creeping up her heel towards her leg, making her toes numb.
But she had heard the screams, the cries of agony, the many different prayers, and the pain had gripped her heart so tight, she no longer could sleep. If she closed her eyes, those of whom she once called sister looked back, void of emotion. The blank stare judged her, pale, cracked lips called her name softly, asking her for help, a help she would never be able to deliver.
So, she walked in the shadows, the veil around her frame mimicking that of night, covering her deepest sorrows and sadness. Hiding them, and her, from the sight of those who guarded the many doors and treasures behind them. She followed any noise that reached her ears, any little stimuli that got to her. Just to get rid of that anguish that threatened to end up consuming her.
This time it had woken her up. A thud, soft and gentle, kept repeating itself, footsteps, she realised. Many of them. And with those footsteps, the drag of feet, belonging to one who did not wish to keep walking, whose step had become heavy and painful, nearly unbearable. She had heard them before, the steps of the damned.
From experience she knew not to follow them, not to search for a damned man, one who was meant to die. But weren’t them all? Weren’t they all going to die anyway? She had seen them, the rope tightening around their neck, slowly, tortuously, as if it was nothing but mocking the soul it was about to take with it.
If they were lucky, the death of warriors would be granted to them as a favour from the Emperor. The sword swiftly cutting the air with a deafening noise, and before one could even tell, the cries of the women he left behind would follow.
For those whose blood could not be spilled, a silken cord handled by the hands of the most expert medic would take them in their sleep. Yet again, only the cries of their women following the next morning. She had cried with those women, she remembered, wearing nothing but black while following a trail of dark and beautiful wooden caskets adorned in gold. The bodies of the ones she had held closest to her heart inside them, their lives, their beautiful essence, taken from them forever. Reuniting with the so-called gods above, with whom they were now feasting, even if they had left a whole that would never be filled.
A light, warm and flickering, as were those from long white candles, illuminated a small portion of the hall she was walking through. Creating a halo around the door that hadn’t been closed. From inside came voices, ones she could very easily recognise, and others she had never heard in her life. With them, soft whimpers, the cries of men. She had never seen a man cry before, so maybe they were just poor boys that had been catch sneaking around the gardens. Picking up flowers and fruits, just relishing in their youth, as she once had done. Before it was stripped from her like clothes torn away from her body.
She peaked her head, looking with her vivid eyes at what was inside the room. It was a room that was at the very limits of the harem, a room she had never even come close to. She had never known the need, nor had the curiosity to venture that far inside the eunuch’s wing. But the room wasn’t much different from those of the odalisques, with two beds and poorly decorated. A mixture between the rooms of those who served and those loved by him.
Yet, it wasn’t that insignificant detail that had her attention grabbed by the gut, keeping her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before her.
A boy, not much older than her brothers, was kneeling on the floor. His head hung low, deep dark, greasy hair covering his face. His skin was pale, the shadows around his neck and wrists a sick hue of greenish blue. His body, long and slim, seemed to her, under the distressed attempt at clothing, more like those of young women and much less like the big, ample shoulders and big round bellies of men.
When he raised his head, forced by the sun-mistreated hand of a eunuch she knew well. A man covered in ugly creases and the darkest of faces she had ever witnessed, with his head shaven and shiny. She loved him very much, but, when his thick old fingers grabbed the pale skin of the boy’s jaw, forcefully making the poor soul look him in the eye, she felt as one who was witnessing the beating of a child.
His eyes were sharp as knives, dark as his hair, and shimmered with spots of gold in the candle lit room. His face was of soft features, with a small nose and round lips, his eyebrow harmoniously framing his face together. She had never seen such a face, such a captivating gaze. With hooded eyes and stern expression, yet looking like a god-sent angel to earth.
“Let him go”. The words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them, and the eunuch turned to her, his robes sizzling around him. She soon realised her mistake and took on a powerful stance she had learned from the Emperor’s very own mother. “Who is he? What are you doing with him?”
A smile grazed her beloved wooden-coloured eunuch’s face, softening his features and lightening the heavy weight pulling her down. She couldn’t help but smile back, softening also her stance.
“He is a gift from a king to the Emperor of The World, your highness”. Her friend’s words made her furrow her brows.
“To whom could he be a gift for, Gazlah? He is but a young boy. What use would we have for a young beautiful boy here?” Her genuine concern made the man flinch, not knowing what to answer. Even though he had known the young princess ever since she had been born and had been her closest companion in her darkest times. He knew of her deep thoughts and concerns; of the poetry she wrote in pieces of paper that later she would burn with the saddest look on her beautiful eyes. Yet, he did not know how to answer, he had never imagined himself in a situation where he would have to explain to a pure heart such a horrendous act that men all around her committed. The same men that later claimed to be knights in shining armour to her, bowing so low their hawk like noses nearly touched the ground beneath them.
“Do you want him, highness?” He asked softly, feeling for the boy. He had once been in his shoes, and a kind heart like that of the princess would have been for him a miracle sent from above amongst the pain and struggle he had to endure in his younger years.
She seemed taken aback by the offer, her doe like eyes opening, round like the moon above them. They turned back to the boy, who was looking at the candle on the desk, beautiful looks of hair like strokes of ink making him seem like a spirit, a ghost of a damned man. If she could take the pain away from his soul, maybe his happiness and joy would allow her to sleep again.
“Yes”. Was her short but assertive answer, her voice a soft croak. She finally stepped inside de room, kneeling beside him to help him get on his feet. He didn’t even look at her, probably fearing the worst was yet to come. Even when, by the looks of it, he had already walked through every hell imaginable to men. “You shall call a physician, Gazlah. Bath him, give him clothes and prepare a bed for him in my rooms. There he will stay until his health is restored”.
The eunuch looked at her as if another head had popped out of her neck. “You can’t have him in your room, your highness. He is a man”. His words took her by surprise, not even having given that possibility a thought, and she held the boy closer without hesitation. As if what Gazlah was doing was pulling him by the arm away from her. Like a child who just got her doll taken.
“He is a boy, Gazlah”. The princess looked at the poor soul’s face, his soft and pretty features couldn’t be those a man. Of that, at least, she was sure. “I can keep a kid in my room. It is no sin, for he poses no threat”. She wanted to believe the gold shine she had seen in his eye was that of childhood.
Before her friend could answer, a heavy weight pulled her down. She barely managed to not a let a scream that threatened to tear her throat out at the sight of the boy she was holding so close bleeding on her white gown. His eyes white orbs without pupils, without a trace of life in them. A high-pitched noise rang in her ear, and she held his body to her while the man called for a physician to come.
She did not know his name, or where he came from. She didn’t know his age, his history. She didn’t know anything about him. But those sad beautiful eyes had enchanted her. Maybe the princess had never witnessed features like his, for he came from a faraway land in the other side of the world. But she did know that after looking him in the eye, she could not let him die. She could not let him go without a fight. If she did, she would never know peace again. She would never sleep.
So she held him close, calling him even if it was without a name. Asking him to fight just a tad bit longer, so he could walk around the palace gardens, so he could go back home. Her tears stained his cheeks, and she couldn’t fathom yet why his wound felt so deep inside her chest, if it wasn’t hers. But the pain seemed to seep in her bones, and she could not bring herself to question it.
(It’ll mean the world to me if anyone wants me to turn this into an ongoing stories maybe? Just let me know if anyone wants at least a second part or I don’t even know. I’m so self conscious about sharing my more personal work here be kind please.)
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succubusphan · 4 years ago
Text
Everything I Wanted
Summary: Dan dreams and dreams of what his life could have been if he had gotten everything he ever wanted - the what ifs that pale in comparisson to what he had now.
Based on the Billie Eilish song.
Rating: G
Word count: 4.9k
Tags: Mild Angst, fluff, established relationship, lots of love and support, My best attempt at being poetic with quite a bit of help. Mild references to homophobia.
A/n: This fic was written for @thoughtathought for winning the charity auction for Dan’s Birthday. Thank you so much for your donation and for being extra amazing! And thank you to @schnaf  for being my support and grammar beta and @icequeenjules26 for adding to the grammar and poetry aspect of the fic. Thank you both for your opinions and unthank you to both of you for roasting me (I’ll see you in hell.)
This is an accompanying piece to If I Ain’t Got You but can be read as a stand alone.
Read on ao3
Rain fell mercilessly upon the streets of Wokingham. Dan sighed and brushed a wet strand of hair out of his face - he hated this fucking weather. His hair was already ruined, but there was no way around it. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body and made his way to school. 
 Dan walked down the hallway of The Forest School confidently. For once in his life he was on time to meet his friends before the first lesson of the day. Some of the people standing off to the side waved at him as he made his way to their usual meeting point. He waved back with a smile even though he didn’t know them. He didn’t mind. It was normal for less popular students to look up to the more popular ones and want their attention in whatever form they could get; he honestly felt a bit bad for them. Luckily for Dan, he had fit into his group right from the start.
 He found them outside the library, as usual. Not because they used it, though. “We’re too cool for that,” Thatcher had said, so the group never went inside. In fact, Dan didn’t know what the inside even looked like. 
 He leaned against the wall, trying to look cool. “Hey, what’s up?”
 “Nice hair, Howell,” Thatcher said. 
 The rest of them laughed - as they usually did - but Dan didn’t mind, they were his friends after all. 
 Thatcher didn’t drop it, though. “You look like a drowned rat.”
 “Thank you, Thatcher! When I want to look like a wanker I’ll ask you for hair advice,” Dan elbowed him. 
 The group laughed even louder and that made Dan’s heart soar a bit; he enjoyed making people laugh like that.
 “Oi, at least I do well with the birds!” Thatcher laughed, wrapping one arm around Dan’s shoulders. “Are you going to call Lara back? She keeps asking.”
 “Uh, yeah. I- ” Dan tried not to let his smile falter. “I will, when it’s time… you know, you gotta let them wait so they want it more.” He winked and his friend roared with laughter again. This time he felt empty. He wasn’t going to call Lara, but he didn’t want to admit that. They accepted him as they knew him, a straight boy who did kind of well at school and was funny; a cool guy. They didn’t need to know that it wasn’t the truth - nobody did. 
 “Damn right! Smart move, Dan. Come on, let’s visit our little friend over there.” Thatcher pointed to a scrawny looking boy. 
 Dan didn’t speak to him, but he knew him. They sat together in math class. If Dan closed his eyes, he could see that shining black hair and those piercing blue eyes just as clear he saw them in front of him now… his rosy lips and long pale fingers tracing over Dan’s skin.
 He shut his eyes, dreading it already. He wanted to leave, he wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, but of course, he had no such luck. Thatcher grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Bullying was a mandatory group activity. 
 “What’s up, Gaylord? What’s it like being lord of the gays?” Thatcher spat. 
 Dan tried his best to seem invisible, to fall behind the rest; he didn’t want any part in this. 
 The guy, Richie was his name, rolled his eyes at them. “What’s it like being Lord of the ignorants? Will you need me to tutor you again, Thatcher? Will you start begging me to -”
 Thatcher’s fist cut him off. It wasn’t a real punch, Dan knew. Thatcher could do a lot more damage if he wanted to, but he seemed conflicted. 
“You have no right to speak to us like that. If you do it again, you will regret it.”
 Richie sighed in defeat. He suddenly looked much older. Dan felt like crying, but he didn’t - he couldn’t. Richie stared into his eyes with unshed tears; as if he knew. He knew that Dan was just like him, but he was also a coward. Someone who would rather be with the bullies instead of being their victim. 
 It was true, but he was their victim too, just in a different way. Richie wiped some blood from his lip and looked at it as if it was a foreign object, then back at Dan. ‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’ his eyes pleaded, but Dan just lowered his head.
 He felt as if the world was crashing down on him like a breaking wave, drowning him, suffocating him in the process, so he did what he usually did when nothing felt right: he ran. He turned around and exited through the back door. He could no longer keep the tears from falling; he was such a piece of garbage. He ran until his lungs felt like they were about to explode. Oh, he was going to be in so much shit for bailing, he was going to be found out, he was - 
 He reached the corner of the street and tried to set foot down on the pavement but he found no support so he fell and fell and fell, into a never-ending dark pit, swallowing him whole.
 Dan jolted awake, his heart pumping in his chest, he was covered in sweat and could feel tear tracks on his cheeks. He sluggishly wiped them off with the back of his hand and tried to calm himself with a breathing exercise. He looked to the right where  Phil laid at his side, undisturbed, and smiled.
 The sunlight coming in through the window formed something like a halo around him. Dan’s smile deepened as he examined Phil’s face - the face of the man that had been his companion for eleven years now. He saw their entire story on Phil’s face, in the signs of ageing he loved so much. The stray grey hair, the smile lines, they spoke of so many adventures, arguments, laughs and love; they reminded Dan of their history together, their history as partners, as best friends. 
 Phil pouted in his sleep and Dan’s heart swelled in his chest. He was so in love with him, even to this day. There was no other way to describe Phil than as his soulmate. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the remnants of the nightmare gradually fading from his memory. 
 Dan shuffled closer to Phil and placed his head on his shoulder, softly running his nose against Phil’s neck and breathing in his scent. He smelled like home. 
 Phil started to stir, unconsciously pulling Dan closer to his chest with a hum. Dan kissed Phil’s neck, causing him to finally crack one eye open and look at him questioningly. Dan just kept running his fingers through his chest hair, absentmindedly tracing little patterns without a notice. 
 Phil smiled and closed his eyes again, scrunching his face at the sunrays blinding him. “Mmm?”
 “Good morning,” Dan whispered. 
 “Morning.” He placed a kiss atop Dan’s head. “Why are you awake so early?”
 “Mmm. A dream.” He pulled at Phil’s chest hair a bit too hard, making him wince. “Or more like a nightmare… Bullies.”
 Phil frowned and held him a little tighter. “Dan, you know they can’t get you anymore.”
 “I know.” He sighed.
 “Wanna tell me about it?”
 “I guess it was how things could have gone if I’d been able to pass as straight as a teenager. That was everything I wanted, to just fit in.” 
 Phil hummed in acknowledgement. “Did they still bully you?”
 “No, I wouldn’t say they did, but they did something worse.”
 Phil stayed silent, giving Dan the time to process what he wanted to say. 
 “I was weak. They pressured me into being like them. They bullied my friend, Richie. In the dream, he wasn’t my friend, but he was gay and he knew I was too. He looked at me when Thatcher punched him.” Dan’s voice quivered; he suddenly felt like crying again. He allowed himself a moment to breathe. “He was pleading with his eyes, asking me for help and I did nothing.”
 Phil ran his hand up and down Dan’s arm comfortingly. “You wouldn’t have been like them, Dan. You know that, I know you do.”
 “How do you know? How can you be so sure?” Dan lifted his head and looked into Phil’s eyes.
 Smiling, Phil laced their fingers together. “Dan, I know you. We’ve been together for over ten years. I know you better than you know yourself.”
 Of course, Dan settled back down without replying. He wanted to deny that. He knew that Phil was right, but part of him always told him that he was not as great as people seemed to think, that he was just a great pretender. 
 But Phil pulled him away from that thought process right away. “Why do you think you had that dream?”
 The sunlight shined through the room, reflecting off of their sparkly nicknacks. Colourful circles danced on the far wall, vibrant shapes and patterns that created the illusion of a magical world. Dan kept running his fingers through Phil’s chest hair and followed the lights with his eyes. 
 “I guess writing about my childhood brought some memories back, and some doubts too,” he finally said. He hadn’t actually thought about it. His mind had been a bit more prone to … distress since he dived into his past and his mental health. 
 “Yeah, that would do it.”
 “Yeah,” Dan smiled softly, closing his eyes and placing a kiss on Phil’s chest. 
 “So it’s not because you think you actually would have been like that,” Phil pushed.
 “No, it’s not,” Dan said, his voice barely above a whisper. 
 Phil cupped his cheek and guided his chin up, pressing a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his dimples, his eyelids. Dan sighed and allowed himself to be loved, to feel happy and supported. Nobody could take this away from him. He was safe now.
 --
 The hail smashed against the window of his 35th floor office, Dan looked out into the London sky with a heavy sigh. He had managed to push through university somehow, graduate at the top of his class and become a Senior Partner by 30. 
 He loved his career, he really did: the competitive aspect of it, the debate, and helping people. Sometimes he could even go as far as to say that he was happy, but most days he felt merely content. 
 Everyone had praised him for having so much drive and ambition, which was, in great part, the reason for his success, but sometimes he didn’t want any of it. 
 He had achieved what most people would want in life: A career, success, money, a loving boyfriend; but when he got home, when he crossed that door, he wanted to leave it all behind. He didn’t want to be a lawyer or discuss laws, or his cases, of the state of the world. He only wanted to be Dan; just Dan.
 He got on his Porsche and not five minutes later he was parked in front of his beautiful home. Then, he pushed the alarm button, locking it for the night and with the twist of a key, he was inside. 
 He removed his shoes by the door with a sigh and the noise of the TV coming from the lounge made him smile so he followed it. Richard sat on their sofa with his legs close to the side, gently moving his glass of wine in circles, letting the air mix with its contents. Dan walked up to him with a smile and cupped his cheek as he kissed his lips tenderly. “Hi,” he whispered against his boyfriend’s lips.
 “Hi,” Richard said immediately, letting his eyes return to the TV. “Why don’t you get changed? Dinner will be ready soon.”
 “Thank you, do you want to play Mario Kart while we eat?”
 Richard scoffed without even looking at him. “Dan, you know I do not like that sort of childish game and neither should you. You are a lawyer, and 30 years old at that. It’s time to grow up.”
 Dan’s smile vanished, he swallowed thick and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “Right.”
 Richard heard it in his voice before Dan could say anything, he stretched his hand towards Dan and Dan held his out as well. Richard laced their fingers and pulled him onto the sofa. “I love you, Dan. I just think it’s time to let all those childish things go. We’re adults.” He ran his fingers on Dan’s chin gently. “And you, my love, need a shave.”
 Dan frowned; he felt so lost. He wanted to run. He was fed up with all the constrictions, the responsibilities, the eternal office hours and society’s demands on how he should behave. He just wanted to be happy, even for a little while. Why wasn’t that allowed? Why didn’t he have the right to play videogames and wear stupid pyjamas and have fun? He let out a heavy sigh. He felt so drained all of a sudden; if he’d had any energy, he would’ve cried, but he put on a little smile instead. “Could you shave me?” He asked. 
 Richard smiled widely. “Of course, love. Go change and meet me in the bathroom.”
 Dan smiled a little wider and went into their bedroom. It was their little thing, Richard liked to take care of Dan and Dan took care of him too. Maybe he was right, maybe Dan needed to stop wasting time. 
 Dan grabbed his pizza themed pyjamas, but then he shook his head, choosing to put on his Armani pair instead. Then, he grabbed all of his dorky pyjamas and video games and went into the kitchen; he stood beside the rubbish bin for a minute, finally shoving them in before he could regret his decision. The anime would be next, but that was a task for another day.
 He let Richard shave him, lost in thought with his head resting back on the chair. “Do you ever think about switching careers?”
 Richard raised an eyebrow at him and continued slowly dragging the razor on his chin.“No, of course not. Why?”
 “Sometimes I think this is killing my soul, like I’m slowly wasting away.”
 Richard stilled his hands. “Don’t be silly! And what would you do?” He asked with a smile before continuing.
 “I don’t know. I used to act; I’ve always loved theatre and comedy… something related to art, I guess.”
 Richard clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes with an amused smile. “Of course,” he kissed Dan’s head. “Tell you what, if you still want to do that when we retire, I will support you. What do you think?”
 Dan sank in his chair feeling even more empty than before. “Yeah, you’re right.” In a way, he was always acting to be the version of him that everyone expected.
 He stayed up until 4 that night, watching stand up comedy specials and dreaming of a better life that would never come. Maybe achieving your dreams was not all that people made it out to be. He wished he would have allowed himself to make mistakes, but now it was too late. He should have dropped out when he got the chance. Now he was trapped.
 Trapped was the first word clearly standing out in the jumbled mess that was Dan’s thoughts when he woke up.  He opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. He felt paralyzed, unable to move a single muscle, and a dull feeling of panic enveloped him like a heavy blanket, suffocating him; it rested on his chest like a boulder and made it hard to breathe. ‘Is this sleep paralysis?’. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of the situation, until his eyes finally found what he sluggishly identified as source of his predicament: A very cuddly, sleeping Phil. 
 He was draped over Dan almost completely, his arms tightly wrapped around him and one of his legs tangled in Dan’s.
 Dan tried to move his feet, but that only caused him pins and needles. Disrupted by the movement, Phil wrapped his leg over his and hooked his foot behind his knee.
 Unable to contain himself, Dan snorted. Even in his sleep, Phil wanted to stake his claim on him. Dan sighed - he really loved that silly goose. Unbeknownst to most, Phil was also a cover hogger, which often left Dan feeling cold and vengeful. 
 Taking advantage of Phil’s state, he did the only thing he could think of: he rolled them back onto Phil’s side of the bed and smiled. Now it was his turn to wrap himself around Phil tightly and enjoy the warmth, but he used the covers to shelter them both from the chilly morning air. 
 The first rays of sun peeked above the horizon and Dan couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful that he had pursued his career with Phil at his side - Phil, his partner in crime, his number one supporter, his companion through life. They had been a great duo for so many years, allowing them to grow as a pair but also as individuals in a secure environment. Now they got to stand beside each other in support and pride. 
 Phil hummed in his sleep as Dan caressed his arms softly, feeling the texture of the hairs there. It felt rough but comforting, like the pavement under the palm after a fall, reminding him he was still alive - overall, it felt real. It reminded him that even though his life felt like a dream, like a fairy-tale someone had written about his life, that was not what it was. It was his reality, no matter how unbelievable it seemed. 
 He sighed. This is what he wanted now. Cuddles in bed with his boyfriend, a career in a field he truly enjoyed, he truly felt himself in, and respect from the people in his life. He had it all, and he was well aware that without Phil’s love, support and encouragement he never would have made it. “Thank you,” he whispered into the quiet of the room, the words building up in his throat and breaking free entirely without his consent.
 “Mm?” Phil mumbled, not opening his eyes, obviously still in his dreamland.
 “Nothing, go back to sleep.” Dan smiled.
 “K. Make me breakfast.” Phil requested, clearly still asleep. “Don’t - let the unicorn eat Norman.”
“Ok, I won’t,” Dan said, dropping a kiss to his chest and settling back to sleep with a sigh. 
 --
 A fine snowfall accompanied his trip through familiar streets, but even the delicate, white flakes did little to turn the scenery more pleasing. They couldn’t cover the piles of old snow at the side of the road, the dirt making them look like a brown slush that just served to make Dan’s inner child very sad. 
 He still remembered when his dad filled his room with artificial snow for his birthday and they had an amazing time playing in it; their laughter had woken up his mom and baby brother who had joined their games. Everything had been perfectly white, but no such luck today.
 Returning to the family home for christmas was always an emotional ordeal and this time was no different. 
 He sighed happily, wiping off the taxi window with his finger to be able to see out. He couldn’t wait to see them all. Once the car reached its destination, he paid the driver and dragged his suitcase out of the trunk. Before he could make it to the door, his dad stepped out, smiling widely and ready to take his suitcase - not without giving him a hug first, though.
 “Hello, son. How was the trip?” his dad asked, already dragging the suitcase to the door.
 Dan shoved his hands in his pockets to shield them from the cold and smiled. “It was good, thank you. Where’s Mum?”
 “In the kitchen with grandma. Adrian went for a run in the woods with Colin.”
 Dan shook his head fondly. “Same as usual then. Popsy? Watching the TV?”
 His Dad laughed. “Yes, I’m afraid.” 
 They made their way inside and shut the door behind them. Robert took the suitcase upstairs while Dan shook his granddad’s hand and went to the kitchen to greet the rest of the family and receive some hugs. He had been craving them more than ever lately. 
 “Oh, Daniel, it’s so good to see you. Come here,” his grandma said, opening her arms for a hug. 
 Dan hugged her tightly. “Hi, I missed you so much.” He never wanted to let go. It was silly, but he felt emotional at being able to see his family again after six months. 
 “That’s easy enough to solve, come visit more often!” his mum said, her arms stretched for an embrace already. 
 Dan hugged her and placed his chin atop her head. “Hi, mummy. How are you?” 
 “Quite well, my dear, but we were looking for someone to help us with the cookies!” she said, stepping away and rubbing his arm. 
 Dan sighed and rolled his eyes with an amused smile. “Ok, but I want real butter.”
 “Ok, she laughed. “It’s in the fridge, let it soften on the counter.” 
 Dan nodded and started to work on the recipe he had been taught so many years ago. At this point it was more a matter of muscle memory than thinking, so he relaxed into his baker role. 
 His grandma placed a hand on his arm trying to get his attention. “Daniel, how is this semester going? Did you get the extension you wanted on that paper?” 
 “No.” He smiled tightly. “Everything is going well. I need to improve some grades but I think I can manage to keep my score.” 
 His mum scoffed. “Of course you can, you always do.” 
 “Certainly, that’s why we never worry about you. How is that boyfriend of yours doing?” 
 “Thank you, grandma.” He kissed her temple. “He is doing well, he is working on his thesis so he will be spending the holidays on campus.” 
 The conversation slowly dissolved but they continued to work in an enjoyable silence. 
 Once the tray was in the oven, Dan finally decided to go back to his old room and flopped onto the bed. He huffed and sat back up, reaching for his suitcase and getting his laptop out. 
 He settled against the headboard and pulled up the latest video from his favourite youtuber, amazingphil. Phil was so gorgeous and fun and smart. Sometimes Dan wondered what would’ve happened if he had actually replied to him on twitter. Sending that dm had been risky enough, so he had dropped it immediately. Besides, he’d had a boyfriend at the time. There had been no reason to go looking for someone else; it wasn’t like Dan to do something like that.
 Dan pouted, ‘Would we have gotten along? What if we would’ve actually become boyfriends?’ He snorted. That was ridiculous. It’s not like someone famous like Phil was going to be interested in Dan, and he had to go to Uni anyway. Once he arrived at campus and settled in, he felt less lonely. It was at university that he opened his heart again and met his current boyfriend. He pressed his lips into a line thinking about the horrible breakup with the previous one. Dan didn’t even like to mention him by name so everyone called him “Voldemort.”
 ’Would Phil have cheated on me? Would have he broken my heart?’ 
 Dan left his computer on the bed beside him and laid down, looking around at the rainbow decorations, some put up by him, some added by his mum after he left. The pictures of them at Pride as a family were his favourites, he was tempted to bring them back to campus with him.
 He was already dreading going back. Oh, how he wished he would’ve stayed a happy child forever, but the older he got the more his loving family expected of him. He was the first child, pampered to no end, every opportunity at his fingertips, and they expected nothing but the best from him. They told him that often enough. 
 They didn’t demand it of him, they just expected it, out of love and support for him. In his family’s eyes, there was nothing wrong that Dan could do, and failing uni was one of those things. So many times during high school he had secretly pulled all nighters to keep his grades up, but now, at university, it was completely different. He felt like he was constantly trying to catch up but he never did. 
 Every single aspect of his life was crumbling, his grades, his health, his relationship and… his mental health. He didn’t have a reason to be sad, he knew that. So many kids wished they had what he’d had all his life, but he was still struggling. He was caving under the pressure, it was pathetic. 
 His boyfriend was going to break up with him, he could feel it coming. His family had been so disappointed when his highschool boyfriend dumped him right before Christmas, they had had to return his presents and all. And now, they had a family vacation coming shortly but it seemed like Dan couldn’t hold a man - or find the right one - he didn’t know anymore.
 His phone dinged, he checked the notification wearily. It was his boyfriend. “This is not working, Dan. I think we need to talk.”
 There it was. Of course, he waited until Dan was away to do this. Dan felt like he was hyperventilating and for a moment he thought that he was going to faint but instead, he started sobbing. Everything looked hazy but he could make out the water coming in from all the windows and doors flooding his room the more he cried. He was drowning in his own sorrows. He stood in an attempt to escape, but before he could even call for help, he found himself in a lake, kicking, trying to swim towards the surface, but he could never reach it. His lungs hurt more and more with every passing second. 
 “Dan? Dan!” a comforting voice called him, he swam to it. A ray of light broke through the water. 
 “Dan, wake up,” the voice whispered.
 Phil brushed his lips against Dan’s face. Dan was crying in his sleep so Phil shushed him and tried to chase the tears away, leaving a trail of kisses as he whispered: “As long as I’m here no one can hurt you.”
 Dan stirred awake and held onto him, continuing to sob so desperately it scared even himself. Sadness rested on his chest like a body of water, like he was trapped at the sombre bottom of the ocean, slowly but steadily getting crushed by the pressure. 
 “What’s wrong?” 
 Dan shook his head and kept on weeping, clutching at Phil for dear life, as if he was the anchor that kept himself from floating away, from sinking even further down into the darkness.
 “Dan, talk to me. Please, you’re worrying me.”
 “Sorry,” Dan tried to let out between his sobs. He struggled to get a grip of himself, to calm himself down, but it still took him a few minutes. 
 “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Phil pressed their foreheads together. 
 Dan swallowed, but nodded. “I had another dream.” He settled onto Phil’s chest, both for comfort and to avoid the piercing stare that only served to rile him up further. 
 “A nightmare.”
 “Mhm. I was home for christmas and everything was perfect.” 
 “That doesn’t sound too bad, what happened?” 
 “They loved me, and accepted me and they thought I was the smartest guy ever.” 
 Phil hummed but let him continue. 
 “In the end, the pressure became too much. Even the fact that they accepted my boyfriend turned into something else they could judge me on.” He sighed and finally met Phil’s eyes. “And the worst part was that I never messaged you back on twitter. We never met. I kept bouncing from one unhappy relationship to another.”
 Phil raised his eyebrows at him but said nothing. 
 “So this boyfriend started to break up with me over text -” 
 This time, Phil interrupted him. “Ouch.” 
 Dan smiled softly. “Yeah, so I started crying and my room flooded. Water kept coming in from everywhere and then it turned into a lake, so I tried to swim but I couldn’t. I was about to drown, but then you called me and I followed your voice. It was like a ray of sunshine flickering through the water.”
 Phil grinned and tightened his hold on Dan. “I knew you loved me. So, what does it mean?” 
 “I think it relates to the other dreams - or nightmares. In each of them I get things I wanted throughout my life so I end up in a very different place than I am right now.” 
 “Would that be so bad?” Phil asked him. 
 “Yes. Everything is as it should be. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again. There is no life I would rather have than what we have right now.” 
 “I love you so much,” Phil said and kissed him oh so sweetly, their lips barely touching, just letting them rest on his with the weight of a feather. 
 “Love you,” Dan mumbled into the kiss. And he did, he really did. As long as he had Phil’s love and support, he had everything he wanted. 
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