#whenever winter comes around it always makes me think because time goes so fast

[huellitaa]

happy december!

🌨���🫶🏻❄️🩷 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[birlwrites]

scrapbook snippet: seventh year

this is a warm-up i did, sort-of-vaguely set in the atfhv universe but i don't think it'll make any sort of actual appearance, just based on my general writing process.

featuring: soft established rosewater, talking about the future (referencing complications due to both of them being set up to inherit control of different noble houses), THE CHAISE

-

It's alarmingly easy to accept Evan's silent offer, sink onto the chaise in the space at his side. Regulus used to think of himself as more... well, independent. Desks and armchairs and twin beds. But the allure of this took hold of him around the same time that Evan did—sofas and loveseats and a chaise longue big enough for two, if they keep close.

A sofa is simpler, a bed more comfortable, but Regulus has a soft spot for the chaise. It was a gift from Hogwarts, after all.

Besides, he wants to keep close. Sometimes that's the only thing he knows for sure.

Evan's fingertips are light as they run through his hair, his voice soft. "My parents are giving me the townhouse as a graduation gift. If you wanted to know."

"I didn't know you had one." The Rosiers certainly don't spend any time there.

"That's what makes it such a good gift—now the upkeep is my responsibility instead of theirs. And someone gets some use out of it."

Regulus doesn't have to be a genius to figure out why Evan is bringing this up now. NEWTs are approaching, and then graduation will bear down upon them like a freight train, and their neighboring beds, their shared meals, even Regulus's office—they'll all vanish, relegated to a bygone era of their lives.

He knows what it's like to wake up without Evan nearby. There are the summer and winter holidays, after all. But they don't feel real in the way that Hogwarts does. They've always been temporary.

"What will your policy be on callers?" he says, because it's easier than what he wants to say.

Even as recently as fifty years ago, people got married younger—right out of Hogwarts. That was when they were beginning their adult lives, after all, and they wanted companions for the journey. They don't really do that anymore—there's no traditional flurry of proposals in the spring of seventh year, no flood of weddings every July and August.

Even if there were, it wouldn't be simple. Not for two heirs.

"Well, you can come over whenever you want," Evan says comfortably, and as expected as it is, Regulus still feels a little warmer because of it. "There'll be a private Floo in the drawing room. I'll give you the address. You'll just need to come over an hour or so before mealtimes if you want food."

"Very practical."

"And I'll make sure there's Assam."

Regulus is already pressed against Evan's side, but he's momentarily swept away by the urge to press even closer, impossibly so—he has to content himself with hooking one leg over Evan's, pressing his lips to Evan's collarbone maybe a little too hard, and Evan stops stroking Regulus's hair to hug him almost tightly enough.

"Get a chaise too," Regulus says to Evan's neck, just to hear him laugh.

"Consider it done." He loosens his hold, goes back to stroking Regulus's hair—it's practically habitual for Evan at this point. "Purple again, or shall we branch out?"

"How are we meant to choose furniture colors when we haven't seen the rooms?"

"Oh, I'd redecorate if necessary." Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Even if I said I wanted bright orange and green stripes with silver trim?"

"You came up with that design concerningly fast."

"You are, as ever, tactful about your instantaneous rejections."

That makes Evan laugh again. "If you really wanted that, I'd at least take you to a Healer for a health screening before saying no."

"How reassuring."

A few breaths pass, soft, even, before Evan says quietly, "We could pretend you lived there too."

Regulus has to shut his eyes.

"I know you can't, not really," Evan says, and the gentle movement of his fingers through Regulus's hair seems restless rather than absent-minded, or maybe neither. "But we could pretend."

Regulus pictures it—a townhouse, new to them both, a master bedroom meant for two and two only, a pantry full of whatever they want, invitations addressed to both of them, a fabulously ugly chaise longue photographed for posterity before being completely reupholstered however Evan wants it, because really, Regulus doesn't care. He wouldn't care even if it were utterly hideous. He'd just look at Evan instead.

He'll just look at Evan instead.

"It's not impossible," Regulus says, because it's easier than I'll make it possible. "Just very, very complicated."

Evan hums in agreement. "Is now when I'm meant to say that you do like complicated, or were you not setting up a punchline?"

"I like complicated." Regulus kisses Evan's collarbone again. "We'll figure it out."

[chloenwckobiaarchive]

RAID CHLOE’S CLOSET (THE WARDROBE CHALLENGE)

Fashion has always been a huge part of Chloe’s identity. It has always been one of her favorite ways to express herself and she majored in it at Cornell before switching her mind when she learned about how the fashion industry is hurting the planet through fast fashion. Chloe’s style is very simple and she usually just sticks to one color palette when she dresses herself. She’s not too fussed if she wears something from a big brand, but she prefers to only buy second hand clothes. A lot of the time, she just makes whatever she wants to buy because she has the knowledge to do it. She thinks that in another life, she’s a fashion designer.

Listen, whenever I see these ladies on my Instagram feed I always immediately go, “Oh, Chloe would totally wear that!“ and so I decided to showcase the outfits that scream Chloe to me.

Whenever I come up with a character, the two major things that help me visualize them as a person (outside of their background and personality) are music and clothes. For Chloe’s style inspiration, I really think Tess Christine, Dacey Cash, and Ashley (bestdressed) really capture the aesthetic and style of how I picture Chloe dressing. Greta herself is also one of the biggest style inspirations when I think about what Chloe would wear.

I can’t even say that Chloe’s style is really one thing, it’s actually pretty much all over the place. Some days she’ll wear earth tone colors or all beige, or a mix of colors. It really just depends on how she feels during the day. Like, if she’s feeling really energetic, you’ll see her wearing skirts or shorts and short sleeves, where her body really shows. If she’s feeling really tired or lazy, you’ll see her with oversized sweaters. If she’s feeling relaxed, she’ll just go with a random graphic tee and some jeans. It really just depends. She also wears a lot of rings and necklaces, so there’s that too. She loves looking good, not for anyone but just for herself.

Usually when Chloe sleeps at night, she tends to wear thin clothing so she doesn’t get too hot. When she’s in her own space, a pair of underwear and a tee are perfectly fine for her. Even in the winter, she’ll still wear her cotton pajamas as she sleeps with layers and layers of blankets. And when she sleeps, she usually has a silk cap or silk pillow case to keep her hair healthy.

When it comes to more formal wear for her, she still keeps it simple. She really enjoys wearing a lot of accessories. Maybe a couple rings, a bracelet, and a necklace or two. Fashion is how she expresses herself so she likes to use that to her advantage.

When she goes to parties, she likes to keep it semi casual. She’ll wear some heels to keep the look elevated and she’ll usually have her hair up. She’ll wear something very loose and very flow-y. When she knows that she’s going to dance or move around a lot, she wears things that are shorter and show her legs more so that way she’s not confined to movement. And so she’s not going to tear clothes or anything like that.

When it comes to beachwear, she’s not too fussed as she likes to wear either a two piece or a one piece. A coverup, along with a beach bag and shoes round out her outfit. And you can never forget the sunscreen!

Whenever Chloe is working out, she loves to wear something that allows her to breathe and sweat, nothing too thick in material. She loves to wear a sports bra and some shorts, and she’ll always carry around a reusable water bottle.

On a warm, sunny day Chloe will most likely wear jean shorts with a cropped T-shirt or a tank top. She’ll reuse a lot of items to make a whole new look, and she loves to make different outfits with the same few pieces of clothing.

As someone who was used to the intense cold from living in New York City for so long, Chloe has definitely figured out how to dress for the winter months. She likes to make realistic and functional outfits for everyday wear. Layers are key when it comes to staying warm, so she’ll always start with a comfortable base layer of top and pants, adding on any jackets or coats to make it warmer.

Going from having to wear business casual for her work attire to being able to dress however she’d like (for the most part), Chloe has taken advantage of that. During her shifts, Chloe will wear a thrifted band T-shirt with some jeans. Other times, she’ll dress up a bit more depending on how she’s feeling. She’ll always try to wear sensible shoes since she’ll be on her feet for most of the day.

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Favors: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, MINORS DNI 18+, Reader has parental issues, Daddy kink. Fingering, PiV, pussy eating. Age gap

A/n: A day later than usual. Also this is my first time with smut, be gentle. Also I wrote a lot more than I anticipated so I’m gonna need a round of applause for that

You stare at the ceiling of your bedroom smiling like a dork. You can’t stop smiling either, you messed up your sleep schedule the last few nights because you couldn’t stop thinking about Frankie and how you two kissed in the pool. How he came up with a nickname for you. How fast you realized you were attracted to him.

He accepted you for your weird antics, you didn’t have to drop him and hate yourself for a bit before realizing it wasn’t worth getting worked up over. Frankie was everything to you.

You get up and start pacing around the room. He was busy with his job so you haven’t seen him since that Tuesday. It’s Saturday, a week before the party. It’s also 2 am. You’re bored, can’t sleep. Before you know it your feet are guiding you out the door. You walk to Frankie’s and knock on his door and wait.

You promise yourself and him that if he doesn’t answer you’ll just go on a drive by yourself.

The door swings open, he rubs his eyes and squints at you.

“You wanna go on a car ride with me?” You ask, he looks slightly annoyed but he nods.

“Let me get some shoes on.” His voice is groggy and his hair is a curly mess. He slides on black tennis shoes and his hat and grabs his keys. “Any reason you’re up at 2am?” Frankie asks, walking to his truck. You follow behind and hum before answering.

“Thinking about you.” You reply, no shame in your tone. You sit in the passengers seat and he starts the truck.

“I see. Did you just wanna drive around or what?”

“Let’s just see where the night takes us.” You pat his shoulder. Frankie scoffs playfully and pulls out of the drive way.

The radio is playing lowly the the background, oldies music. You stare at the yellow streetlights, they whizz passed the truck like fireflies. It makes you feel nostalgia, the second time that feeling as come back since you first hung out with Frankie. You sigh, missing the road-trips with your Aunt, just to get out of town for a few days, just to block out some of the messed up things in your life. You focus on the road ahead and see a large parking lot.

“Let’s go in there.” You point, Frankie nods and slows down, turning. He goes to the back of the parking lot and parks under a streetlight. You get out and look up the lamp now looking like a UFO. The door slams as you push it shut and you move to the back of Frankie’s truck and into the bed. You breath in the night air, it smells of cigarettes and candy. Nostalgia hitting a third time, bringing you back again to your Aunt.

She smoked exactly 14 cigarettes a day, no more, no less. She would also let you pick out your own candy when she’d take you on those road trips.

“Tweety, I have a blanket it’s kinda cold. Here.” Frankie hands you it. You wrap it around yourself and open one of your arms so signal the older man to sit next to you.

“You always this prepared?” You laugh and lean on his shoulder.

“I guess so. I usually keep it back there incase the car breaks down in the winter.” Frankie shrugs. “Glad we could hang out soon again. I didn’t know if we’d see each other before Alicia’s birthday. My schedule is busy and seems like whenever I have off, you have work.” Frankie huffs a little annoyed and a little jokingly. He’s more awake now, you can tell because of his eyes, they’re wider and he’s not scowling either.

Frankie takes your hand gently and holds it. You two listen to the crickets and other noises. Few cars whizz by but the noise is still there. Your state of mind drifts back to your feelings of nostalgia. “Reminds me of trips with my Aunt… we’d go out, I’d get some candy at a corner store at 3am, she’d buy her cigarettes. We’d drive somewhere for the weekend or sometimes we slept in her mini van and watch movies in that cute ass tv thing they have in the vans. Just for the weekends though, then I’d be back to school. She had to make sure I got a good education.” You laugh then sigh. “Miss her sometimes. I think she’d like you. She always wanted me happy. You make me happy.”

It’s silent for a few minutes. You look up at Frankie, memorizing his face for a minute, then going down to his neck. An impulse comes over you and you lean in and nip him. He jumps.

“The fuck was that for?”

“I’m bored. Let’s dance!” You get up and hop out of the bed of the truck. You weren’t bored really, you just didn’t mean to let all of that out on him. You pull out for phone from your pajama shorts pocket and start playing music, your hips sway. You wave your hand over gesturing Frankie to get up, he follows suit, his tennis shoes clomping at the edge of the truck. He climbs carefully down, Frankie takes the phone from your hand and sets it on the tailgate of the truck.

You feel calloused fingers under your t-shirt and hum, enjoying as they graze over your stomach. Your hands fall over his covered ones. The feeling of a scruff goes against your next and soft lips come with it, your head falls opposite, giving him more access and wanting more of that feeling. Kisses pepper your neck, your eyes close and you two shift and sway around the blacktop parking lot.

It felt so good being this close to Frankie. Everything about him made you feel warm and happy, made you feel more alive and free than you’ve ever been, and that was always what you were, alive and free. He didn’t hold you back, he pushed you further.

You had only truly known Frankie for five days, only ever seeing him at neighborhood cookouts with the occasional hello, and small talk about where you two worked, how everything was, and an awkward walk off after. Yet in this moment it’s felt like you’ve known him for an infinity. You’d never let anyone be this close, yet he did something to you that no one else did and it made you feel important.

-

You fall asleep in the back of Frankie’s pickup at 5am, you attempt to force yourself to stay awake until sunrise but there was no use.

Frankie brushes index finger between your brows and down your nose which is what forces you asleep. He knows your fighting the sleep you need so he calmly shushes you and kisses up and down your cheeks along with his brushing. He puts his head down next to you, your head resting on his arm and he watches the rise and fall of your stomach and listens to your soft breathing until sleep takes him too.

-

Bzzzt bzzt… bzzt bzzt…

Frankie bolts awake and feeling around his pajama pants for his phone. Your face slams to the bed of the truck and you groan. A quick “Sorry!” Comes from Frankie and he finally finds his phone. You nod and put a thumbs up before laying back down, this time on your own arm. “Hey Will, yes I know. I’m sorry I can’t make it today I’m a little…” He looks around the parking lot, then down at your blanket covered body. “Busy… listen I’ll make it up tomorrow I promise.” Frankie sighs. “Yeah… yes just tell Benny to save it for tomorrow. Okay bye.”

You look up at the older man and squint, judging him in a joking way. “Did you call off work for me Mr. Morales?” Your lips purse, he looks down at you and you can see a line of pink on his cheeks. “You did.~” You sit up and wrap the blanket around your shoulders. “Cuteeee!” You poke his leg.

“Shut up.” Frankie sighs and looks around the parking lot. Only the front spots were taken up, no one had parked near you two, he checks the time. 10:30. “I can make us some breakfast?”

Your head perks up. “Sounds delicious.”

-

The smell of pancakes wafts through the air as you look around Frankie’s kitchen. The kitchen was small, not poorly decorated but not greatly decorated either. The walls are the same cream color that the house came with, you only know because that’s how your house was painted when you had first moved in.

A glass vase sits empty on the dark wooden table Frankie has and you make a note to get him some flowers to fill the vase.

Curious, you look in his fridge. Acting as if you’re getting butter and syrup, really you’re just curious about what this man eats.

Beer, pickles (specifically bread and butter), burger meat (yes the ones already shaped like patties), chicken, Parmesan, water bottles, orange juice and some raspberries are the first things you see. No secrets unraveling here, just a regular brown eyed, middle-aged man. You blow raspberries before looking in the door for maple syrup. It’s a fancy glass one, with a maple leaf in front, the bottle resembles a flask… What the fuck?

Plates clink behind you and silverware chimes. You take the bottle and set it on the table then shuffle towards the coffee maker as it trickles the last of its coffee out and into the carafe, you pull it out and pour some into a black mug resembling a skyline and a yellow mug with a sun wearing sunglasses then take them to the table.

You plop into a chair and Frankie sets a plate in front of you, then a plate in front of where he will sit. You look at the pancakes and pour syrup on them before digging in.

“These pancakes are good as FUCK!” You yell, Frankie laughs and puts a cut piece into his mouth. “God I love pancakes but these? The best ones I’ve EVER had. God if these are good I gotta come over more so you can cook for me.”

“I’d be happy to do that.”

“Good because I have to admit. I can’t cook unless it’s eggs, bacon, or a burger.” You shrug. “Could totally teach me too. Cause I don’t want you to be the only one cooking in this relationship.” The last word slipped and you quickly out the coffee mug up to your lip and sipped.

“This is a relationship now?” Frankie pokes you with his foot.

“Yeah… yeah if you want it to be.” You get flustered. You’re usually teasing, why are you nervous now. “God it would be great if you were my boyfriend like officially.” You set your mug down with a clink and finish your pancakes.

“Of course. I just didn’t know if you really wanted to be with an old man or if this was just some game.”

“It’s a boring game of its supposed to be one. I promise I’d love to be your girlfriend more than anything, I don’t care how old you are.” You get up and slide plates on top of each other, Frankie tries to grab them from you. “No I’m okay with doing the dishes since you cooked.”

“You’re still a guest here, you really don’t need to do this.” He leans over and you turn, the plates just barely dodging his attempted kidnapping. You hum and turn on the faucet water flowing onto the plates. Frankie grumbles and leans over you, wrapping his arms around you like he did earlier this morning, kissing into your neck. You finish washing a the last silverware and it clinks into the drying rack. He hasn’t stopped kissing your neck, you back your butt into Frankie and he backs off.

His eyes are dilated when you turn and you swear you felt a hardness when you playfully bumped him. You kiss him gently, his hands grip your hair. You pant into his mouth. Frankie stops and backs up, you try to reach after his mmm and whine when he’s out of your reach. “Let’s go upstairs.”

-

You stare at all the pictures on the wall as he practically drags you up the stairs and into his bedroom. Simple ones of who you assume are friends and family, no paintings or decorations, just the pictures. Before you know if you’re pushed onto the bed. You start taking off your shirt and he does the same with himself. You grab him and pull switching your place with him and sitting on his lap. You grind down feeling his bulge through his pajama pants. He grips your hips and buries his face between your tits.

“Daddy..” You whine, your eyes go wide and you stop immediately what your doing, Frankie groans.

“Yes baby girl…”

You squeak and look down at him, he’s looking up at you, clearly wanting more. “I need you so badly.” You don’t want to ruin anything. If he hates being called daddy he’ll tell you.

Frankie tugs at your shorts, you get up and he pulls them down along with your panties. He then pulls his pants down and grabs you, spinning so you’re laying on his bed, he takes his middle finger and puts the tip in your hole before running the slick up to your clit. You buck your hips and cover your face at the sensation. “Tell me if it ever gets too much.” He kisses your cheeks.

“I haven’t had sex in years…” You confess looking into Frankie’s eyes, he smiles gently and kisses down your neck.

“That’s okay.” He licks your collarbone and you shudder. His finger grazes your clit again and your back arches.

“Fuck daddy…”

He chuckles and shoves a finger into you, trying to stretch you a bit. You moan and writhe his fingers curl into you. “Daddy!” He holds your hip.

“Sit still baby..” He leans over you, the bed creaks slightly, you feel a kiss on your nose before his forehead touches you. You start panting and bucking your hips into his fingers, the thumb starts circling your clit. “You look so pretty right now baby girl. You’re taking my fingers so well.” Frankie kisses you deeply and you grab onto his hair, moaning into his mouth. “Go ahead and cum for me baby.. I know you want to.”

Frankie’s other arm wraps around your head, your grip is still strong in his hair and you burrow your face in his neck, him doing the same to you. His thumb quickening pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, Frankie hears the most beautiful moan from you. You let out tiny whines and hold onto him. He pulls his fingers out slowly, you trying to catch up to him, not wanting to lose any touch. “It’s okay Tweety. You’ll have something bigger soon.” He whispers, you whine, and pull him down to lay on you. “Did that feel good?” He looks into your eyes which are glassy, you nod and kiss him. He kisses you all over and rubs your face, you lean into his touch.

“I want more.. please give me more.” You mumble.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes… please.”

Frankie takes his time, he kisses you down your body and licks up your slit, you bite your lip trying not to smile like an idiot. He kisses your cunt and leans over your again, kissing your face, tongue tracing your lip, you open your mouth. His hands hold your face and feel down your body before squeezing your thighs. He sits up and almost opens his nightstand, but you pull him back in.

“I’m on birth control… other reasons than sex obviously.” You get all flustered.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? It’s a lot easy to slide in if-“

“I wanna feel all of you.”

“Okay. Again we can stop whenever you want.” Frankie lines himself up and slowly moves into you. Tears threaten to fall, you arch your back and moan.

“Fuck daddy…”

It feels so good, but hurts so badly. You try to sit still, tears start slipping out. Frankie stops. “No, please keep going daddy..” You grab his face and kiss him roughly, he bucks into you and bites your bottom lip.

“Fuck baby… you feel so good around daddy’s cock.” He starts at a slow pace, his arms wrap around your whole body, you love it, the feeling of his cock stretching you, how close he wants to be with you. Frankie is all yours and your his. His hips pick up pace, he bites on your neck and you whine.

“Please mark me. I wanna show off that I’m yours!” You beg, Frankie sucks down then licks your neck up and starts nibbling on your ear, you whine more, he angles your hips up more and ruts into your cunt faster. You bite and nip at his chest, then move up and suck a mark into his nipple. He thrusts even faster and rougher.

“Fuck Tweety… I’m gonna cum. In or out?” He grunts. You wraps your legs around him, giving Frankie his answer. He spills into you, losing control of his hips completely. “Fuck baby…”

Frankie pants and still tried to fuck into you even though he’s sensitive. “Daddy… please eat me out.”

He slides out, you whine at the loss but the sensation comes back as he fucks his fingers into you again, squelching from his cum, his lips kiss your hole then your clit before he sucks and licks, trying to get you to cum. Your hand meets his hair and you grind into him, whining loudly, you lose control and basically ride his face through your orgasm. He kisses your cunt again and gets up leaving the room. You pant, little whines coming out as you do.

Frankie comes back in with a warm washcloth and a cup of water, he sets the water down on one of the nightstands and he goes over to you, wiping up the mess spilling from your hole.

“Tweety you’re so pretty. You did so good baby.”

You smile and pinch him in a teasing way.

“Hey!” He smiles and sets the rag on his nightstand. Frankie kisses your face and moves you so you’re sitting up with him, he grabs the water and hands it to you. You take it and drink. “You did really good.” He wraps an arm around you and kisses your head, burying his nose in your hair. “I love you Tweety.”

“I love you more..” You whisper, putting the empty cup beside the bed.

———————————————————————-

Taglist: @fangirl-316

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1      Ch.2      Ch.3      Ch.4      Ch.5      Ch.6      Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all. 

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.  

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way. 

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs. 

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity. 

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made. 

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

-

-

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she’s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length. 

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

 -

-

 In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself. 

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 1 - Decoy [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Here we go my loves, the first chapter! ❤ I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

As always, I don’t own anything.

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, death, manipulation, language.

Summary: Trouble has a way of following certain people.

Sometimes you wondered whether you would run away screaming when you were a child if you knew what kind of a person you would turn into.

It wasn’t exactly your fault though. For years and years, several people had put the blame on several different things. Eventually they would reach the same conclusion though; the psychiatrists, your superiors, the very few people you could call your family, they all agreed on one thing.

It wasn’t you, it was the abandonment.

The abandonment you went through when you were a teenager had somehow started this domino, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop this constant fall, not even you.

But as you would figure out soon, you were lucky. Instead of being consumed by your anger, you could direct it somewhere else. You were recruited and trained from a very young age, and somewhere along the way, you realized that if you wanted to survive you were going to have to sacrifice certain things.

Forgiveness was the first one to disappear. Guilt was another.

Then fear.

Then, love.

Ah well. Worse things happen in the world every day.

If anything it made your job easier.

You cracked your neck and opened the door to your apartment, the key sticking to your fingers because of the blood on your hands for a moment and you made a face as you shut the door, leaning back.

A very long shower and a bottle of wine sounded like a good idea.

You placed your gun on the table, took the dagger strapped to your thigh out of its holster and got the knives out of the heels of your shoes before flinging yourself onto your couch and turning the TV on.

“Also called Sokovia Accords 2.0 by the critics—“

“What the superheroes think about this remains a mystery—“

“The first time caused a huge rift between Captain America and Iron Man but nobody knows the new Captain America Sam Wilson’s comment on it—“

You didn’t get to change the channel again when your phone started vibrating in your pocket, making you sit up straight. You muted the TV, and checked the caller I.D before you answered.

“Hey there.”

“Hi, how’s Paris?” the cheerful voice of your best friend reached you, “Had enough croissants yet?”

A small smile pulled at your lips. After your only parental figure had left you to go God knew where, General had decided to adopt you and raise you like a daughter. His actual daughter Chloe had welcomed you with open arms, and you had been best friends since then.

Her being the top analyst of the division didn’t hurt either.

“Mm hm, because that’s all I’m doing. Eating croissants, visiting museums—”

“Killing and maiming targets...” she mused, finishing your sentence for you and you heaved a sigh.

“Somehow that last one isn’t included in the city guide,” you pointed out. “Chloe, you know this is a line for—“

“Official contact from General, yeah yeah,” she said, “In my defense, you didn’t pick up the phone an hour ago when I called you from my phone.”

“Do you know how hard it is to use touch screen when your hands are covered in blood?”

“What happened to your sniper rifle, did it fall into Seine?”

“It required close combat,” you said, “And the target swallowed the chip before I could get it, so I had to perform a spontaneous autopsy.”

“Just so you know, whenever you talk about your job I have to watch like a hundred cute videos after I hang up.”

“Happens.” you said, “How’s everything?”

“You missed us already?”

You grinned, “Maybe.”

“Good, because dad wants you back. He’ll contact you any day now.”

Your head snapped up and you stood up from the couch, “Really?”

“Duh. Have you seen how negotiations for these new Accords are going? It’s going to be a mess and we need you here.”

“The second one hasn’t passed officially.”

“Well no, but you know how my father thinks.” she said and you tilted your head.

“Are we sure it’s General who wants me there and not you?”

“Okay, that was one prank ages ago and I didn’t hear the end of it!” she protested, “Don’t you trust me at all?”

“Nope.”

“You know, I’m being the perfect friend and calling you to give you some good news but if you’re going to be like this, my news can wait until you get here.”

You pulled your brows together, “What news?”

“What do I get in return?”

“My endless gratitude,” you deadpanned, “Come on. What news?”

“You can’t tell anyone yet but I think you’re getting a promotion.”

Your breath got caught in your throat, “You’re joking.”

“Don’t forget about me when you become a handler, you hear me?” She let out a laugh, I need friends in high places.”

“Your dad runs the division Chloe. It doesn’t get any higher than that.”

“That doesn’t count!”  

You pressed a hand over your chest, “Just— what kind of a promotion are we talking about?”

“I mean I snooped around his files and casually committed treason.” she said, “But even I don’t know yet. They must be still making the adjustments.”

You opened your mouth to reply but then your phone vibrated again and you lowered it to check the message on the screen.

It was simple but again, all his texts were simple and to the point.

From: General

Time to come back. Jet leaves in 2 hours.

Here goes my shower and wine night.

“Chloe?” you said, walking to the sink to wash your hands so that you could start packing, “You want anything from here? I’m coming home.”

                                              ***

The best thing about being on the move all the time was that you could pack in minutes and the division would take care of the things you had left behind.

Apartments, belongings-

Not that you carried any belongings with you, or bought any more than necessary. It would’ve made you form a bond, which was less than ideal for any spy.

You suppressed the yawn splitting your face and made your way to General’s office. This jet-lag was going to make your life pretty difficult in the following 24 hours, and you were painfully aware of it, but it wasn’t like you could just ask for some time to rest.

That could wait. Your job was more important.

“General?” you knocked on the half open door and he raised his head to look at you before motioning you to enter the room.

“Y/N,” he said, “Close the door please. It’s good to have you back.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Take a seat,” he said and you cleared your throat, then perched on the edge of the chair.

“I’ve heard you eliminated the threat and got rid of our target quite fast,” he said, “And we have the chip now.”

You nodded silently, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Well, that shows me you’re ready for the next step,” he said “No reason to beat around the bush, you’re getting a promotion.”

Pride burst through your system but you tried to control your expression to stop the grin threatening to pull at your lips.

“Thank you sir.”

“Here are the details for your next mission,” he said, handing you a file that was stamped as Top Secret and you flipped the page to find information about your next identity.

Alias: Shrike

“Shrike,” you murmured to yourself, turning the pages, “Like the bird?”

“Mm hm. I assume you’ve heard about the Accords issue?”

You looked up, “Only a little,” you said, “The first one was a disaster and the government had to drop it after The Blip due to the public’s reaction, resurrected people insisted that the superheroes were the ones who saved them, not the government. Then the government said they would go over the details and change it in a way that would benefit both the public and the superheroes, but I haven’t seen the new version.”

“There were some adjustments but to be honest with you, it’s the same deal. We can’t have superheroes running wild with no orders,” he said, “I need you on both fronts, one with terminating specific targets, and one with….well, you’ll see.”

You flipped the page and blinked a couple of times, your stomach dropping.

You were good, but you weren’t that good.

“You- you’re sending me after Captain America, sir?”

“Ah no,” he said, “Don’t worry. Wilson doesn’t have a past we can use against him, and trust me, we checked. The guy is an actual hero but we need a bad guy.”

You turned the page and shut your eyes for a moment.

Bucky Barnes.

Right. You should’ve known.

The government wanted and needed Captain America on their side, but Bucky Barnes could fall for all they cared.

“Sir I appreciate your trust in my abilities but not even an army could take down the Winter Soldier the last time—” you started but General shook his head.

“Y/N, you’re not going to kill him,” he said, “That’s the second front I was talking about. We need you to get close to him, to form a personal bond and gather intel we can use in the future.”

You gawked at him, “I’m sorry?”

“Barnes is the perfect candidate. He can help us with necessary information to prove to the public that superheroes need to answer to someone; us. Besides if it all goes bad, we can just say he was a threat. With that kind of past no one would think he was innocent to begin with.”

Your head was spinning. Scratch that, the whole room was spinning.

You were good at finding and terminating targets, not forming personal bonds or playing this

“When you say get close to him….” You trailed off, your voice way too weak and he smiled slightly.

“You’re an attractive woman, I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.”

That. That was your promotion.

Not an operations officer, not a handler, but a lover who also happened to kill people.

They were going to use you as a honey trap for him.

“Sir, I don’t think-“ you started, but he held up a hand.

“Before you say no,” he said, “Let me remind you that this will benefit your career greatly, and you will have your own team. Show us you can handle it, and the position you want will be within your reach, you have my word. You want to be a handler, don’t you?”

You dragged your fingernails on the file, deep in thought.

“Barnes is one of the many dangerous people we may need to stop one day, and the only way to do it is to keep him under control and learn everything he knows until we’re ready to take him in.”

“But if these new Accords don’t pass—“ you started but he shook his head.

“Even if they don’t, and that’s a big if,” he said, “He’s still a valuable asset to have. We all have to perform certain missions, Y/N. Even if we don’t particularly like them. You will thank me in the future, when your career flourishes.”

Your blinked a couple of times, a bitterness appearing in your mouth.

“Of course,” you managed to say, “You’re— you’re right sir. It’s a good plan. I accept the position.”

“Great!” he clapped his hands together, “We have a target for you for tomorrow night, there’s this gallery opening. He needs to be eliminated, I think you can handle that? Start planning how it will go with Barnes as well, we can’t lose any time.”

You pursed your lips together and closed the file, “Of course.”

“Congratulations.” he leaned in slightly, “Your dad would be so proud of you if he could see you now.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it felt like it was getting bigger and bigger.

“I don’t need his approval,” you rasped out and walked to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak.

“Shrike,” he used your alias for the first time and you looked over your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“I don’t have to remind you that this mission is top secret. If he figures out who you are, or what you’re up to…” he clicked his tongue, “Kill him.”

You paused for a moment, then tilted your head and smiled at him.

“As you wish, sir.” you managed to say, then walked out of his office as if someone was chasing you. You made your way straight to the bathroom and slammed the file on the marble counter, then pulled out the small picture sticking out from the corner. It was an old black and white picture of him with Steve Rogers, probably taken in the 40s, both of them smiling. 

When you lowered the picture to attach it back to the paper, your eyes caught the tiny print under his aliases.

Confirmed Kills: Exact number unknown (Credited with 100+ assassinations)

You were in way, way over your head now.

“Oh, fuck.”

                                  Chapter 2

[jackrrabbit]

Sleepless /// Tanjiro x f!reader (18+)

Request: Hi!! I'm not entirely sure on how to request since this is my first time EVER requesting something here on tumblr 😳😳 so im not sure if im doing this right,,,but um,,,,could you do a soft dom! tanjiro kamado x reader nsfw??? (he's aged up of course)

A/N: Y’all I’ve been working on this practically since I made this gd blog…idk why it took so long since I LOVE the concept. Reader is a traumatized bby who just needs her kitty licked  ✊😔 and honestly same

Tags/warnings: soft dom, daddy vibes but without the ‘daddy’ (onii-chan vibes?), brief mentions of past demon violence & PTSD, fluff?, historical inaccuracies probably, reader is implied to be inexperienced, mild overstimulation, lowkey yandere lowkey romantic who knows, all characters are adults

It starts out with little things. Harmless things. Tanjiro sees you barely ate anything at dinner, and later that night he comes to your bedroom with a plate of food for you. “You should eat,” he tells you.

“I’m not hungry,” you say, almost a little petulantly. The food looks good and you know he’s trying to be nice, but you’re not a child. You can take care of yourself, and even when you can’t it’s not his job to do it for you.

“Eat,” he says again softly. It’s not a command. It’s like he already knows you’re going to eat, and he’s just patiently waiting for you to give in.

You pick up the chopsticks and eat the food he prepared for you. All of it. Tanjiro sits there and watches and then when you’re done, he smiles at you and pats your head and takes the plate away. You think it’s weird, but the next morning you don’t question it. He’s a big brother to everyone—doesn’t it make sense that he would want to make sure you’re eating enough?

He probably can’t help it.

You decide you’re going to let it slide, until a few days later after breakfast with him and the others when Tanjiro pulls you aside and holds your face in his hands and tells you you’re looking a little tired lately—are you getting enough sleep?

The truth is that you aren’t. You want to deny it, but somehow you have a hard time lying to him. “I used to sleep with my siblings in our bed, so it’s hard to fall asleep since…” since the demon who made you an orphan murdered them. “And, you know. Nightmares.”

Tanjiro understands. Of course he understands! He used to have five younger siblings, did you know that? Now Nezuko has her own room and the rest…well, you’ve heard the story. It’s hard to fall asleep when you’re by yourself, isn’t it? He’s been there.

“How many hours are you sleeping every night? On average?”

You’re trying too hard to ignore the brush of his callused fingertips over your cheekbones, so you tell him the truth without meaning to. “Um, like four hours? On a good day?”

His eyes go wide and suddenly both of his hands are wrapped around one of yours and squeezing, maybe a little too tight. “Is that the truth, (Y/N)? Four hours is too little. Sleep deprivation isn’t good for you.”

“I know, but—”

“No. The next time you have trouble getting to sleep, I want you to come to my room.” You open your mouth to mount a denial, but he frowns and cuts you off. “Promise me. Okay? It’s really bad for your health, so promise.”

And once again, you say yes even though you don’t want to.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine, you think. You’ll just pretend you’re sleeping better. Tonight you’ll lay in bed with your eyes open and stare at the ceiling and try to listen to your own breathing, in and out and in and out, and hope it drowns out the memories that stick fast in your head whenever you’re by yourself. Then when you’ve been laying in the dark for a few hours, you’ll finally fall asleep and all your nightmares will play out in technicolor and you’ll do your best to be quiet so you don’t wake anyone else up and in the morning you’ll splash cold water on your face to make your eyes less puffy and pinch your cheeks to get some color in them and it’ll be fine.

You can take care of yourself. You have to, since everyone else is gone. So you’re not sure why, when the sun goes down and you’re looking into the face of another sleepless night, you find yourself knocking on the door of Tanjiro’s bedroom.

Maybe it’s just that he made you promise. You hate breaking your promises.

He lets you in, the half-asleep affect mixing with the same caring, serene look as always (and it’s a little insulting that he’s not surprised at all). Tanjiro sits on the bed first and you can’t help staring at him in the flickering orange lamplight. He’s more muscular than you remembered, and taller than when you first met. He can play the role of a big brother all he likes, but he’s still an adult. A man. And he’s not family.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you say, fidgeting with the sleeve of your shirt.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” Tanjiro murmurs as he lies down, his voice still scratchy with sleep. Somehow it relaxes you. He just has that way about him—when he says it’s okay, it feels okay.

Tanjiro pats the spot on the bed next to him. It looks really warm, and there’s a winter chill in the air even though it’s only September. It’s a bed made for one person, but Tanjiro—ever considerate—has moved over to one side to make space for you.

“Come on. Come sleep,” he instructs in that soft, non-demanding way of his. So you sit down on the edge of the bed and (carefully, carefully, like you’re making your way into a hot bath) fold your legs and pull the covers over you so you’re lying next to him. The bed is even warmer than you thought it’d be. Tanjiro radiates heat—he’s so warm, you think, how fitting—and then before you know it you’re drifting into the first dreamless sleep you’ve been afforded in a very long time.

That first night, you sleep with a good six inches of space between the two of you. You don’t want to touch him, don’t want to cross that invisible boundary—at first. But it doesn’t matter, because every time you wake up next to him, you’re curled up to his side like a puppy seeking warmth. It’s not like he minds. Judging from the gentle smile on his face when he wakes you up in the morning (and tells you that you should go back to your room before anyone notices you’re not there) he likes it.

Never again, you think. No way. But you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in so long, and it’s nice to be well-rested for once, and the next evening you only lie in your bed for fifteen minutes before you’re knocking on Tanjiro’s door again, silently asking if you can take advantage of his kind nature for just one more night.

He says yes. Of course he does. So you sleep next to Tanjiro again, you keep half a foot of space between you again, and you wake up hugging him. Again. And then you do it the next night, and the next night, sleeping beside Tanjiro over and over until you no longer bother trying to leave room between your body and his.

Is this okay? you wonder sometime around the two-week mark. It’s the longest you’ve gone without having nightmares since the demon came. Sometimes you think you’re betraying your loved ones by trying not to think about their deaths; letting yourself off easy while they suffered. You tell this to Tanjiro while the two of you are lying back to back under his blanket, quietly enough that (you hope) if he’s already sleeping you won’t wake him.

He hears you, and he turns around and lays his arm around your waist. “Don’t be silly…of course they wouldn’t want you to be unhappy.”

“But how do you know?”

“I know.” Tanjiro’s voice is half muffled by your hair, but it’s steady. “You believe me, don’t you.”

You do.

“Don’t think about that anymore.” His hold on your waist gets a little bit tighter, arms a little bit less forgiving.

“I won’t,” you say, hoping that the promise will be enough. The two of you fall asleep like that, and when you wake up in the morning it’s the first time ever that you haven’t moved in the night.

As if it wasn’t enough to be spending every night together, at some point you start to dream about him too. Usually it’ll just be a flash or a snippet that you barely remember once you wake—the reassuring tone of his voice, a smell like a campfire, or a few notes of laughter—but tonight you’re watching him train in the courtyard. In the dream, he moves through his forms with inhuman grace, position to position to position, balanced with perfect agility like he’s a dancer and not a swordsman. With how beautiful it is, you can almost forget the raw power behind his movement, the strength that has subjugated more demons than you care to know.

He pauses to stretch, rolling his shoulders back, and you notice that he’s shirtless (which is how you know it’s a dream). Tanjiro’s arms flex as he raises the blade into position, and the sun shimmers over the thin sheen of sweat on his chest. He looks ethereal like this, and as you sit on the porch and watch him, you feel heat stir inside of you that has nothing to do with the sunlight.

Tanjiro, you call out softly. He looks around to you, deep red eyes resting on yours, and whips the blade down to replace it in its sheath.

Can I come closer? The grass is cool and wet under your bare feet as you pad lightly into the courtyard toward him. You can taste the humid summer air in your mouth. Fingers tangle themselves in your hair, tilting your head up to meet his.

Tanjiro…

“(Y/N)?”

Tanjiro’s voice cuts through the dream and you scrunch your eyes shut, reluctant to leave the dream world where he wants to touch you, not out of pity or because he thinks it’s his duty to take care of you but because he wants to. But it’s too late—his hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you out of your slumber. “(Y/N)? You said my name.”

“Sorry, I…sorry.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

He kissed you, in your dream. Now that you’re looking at the real version, your cheeks feel warm…and so does that same spot below your belly. Suddenly the room feels uncomfortably hot, and you wish you weren’t trapped under the covers with Tanjiro. You shift your legs to try and get a little more air between the two of you, but the heat persists.

“I think I should go back to my room.” You must be sweating—you feel damp for some reason. He’s too close.

Tanjiro ignores you. “Can you tell me what you were dreaming about?”

“I—you,” you admit. “You were training.”

“And?”

“And…I don’t know. It’s kind of warm in here, isn’t it? I think I’ll just…” You push the cover aside and sit up, but before you can get yourself off the bed, Tanjiro is tugging you back down, holding to the mattress so he can hover over you in that way he likes.

“Tell me,” he says to you, voice as firm as it is gentle. Sleep-mussed locks of red hair flop over his forehead but his face is serious, and you can’t look away.

“You kissed me,” you whisper.

That takes him by surprise. You can tell by the way his eyes widen, but his hold on you doesn’t ease up. You want to die. Why did you say that? He’ll think you’re disgusting, sleeping next to him in his bed and having perverted dreams about him. Why couldn’t you have just lied? Why can’t you ever lie to him?

“I’m going back to my bedroom.” You try to project more confidence than you actually feel, but there’s no use. Tanjiro doesn’t seem like he’s going to let you get away from him any time soon.

He’s straddling your body carefully, one elbow folded next to your head while his other hand comes up to stroke your cheek. “Your face is all red.”

“You’re…you’re too close.”

“I don’t think I’m close enough. You have goosebumps, look...” Tanjiro folds up the sleeve of your sleep shirt, exposing your arms to view. “…here…and here, too…”

His hands are wandering further down to the hem of the shirt, pushing it up so slowly and gently that you’re not even sure it’s happening until you feel him stroking over your belly. It’s true, you do have goosebumps. It feels like every hair on your body is standing on end. “Tanjiro…?”

“I guess you haven’t been able to touch yourself, since we’ve been sleeping together. That kind of repression is bad for your health. Even I’ve been a little…frustrated.”

Your mind has to work overtime to understand what he’s telling you as he strokes over your stomach and onto the sensitive skin of your sides, and then up to the flesh covering your ribs. His thumb teases over the underside of one of your breasts for a second, but the shock must have shown on your face because he retreats immediately.

“I’m not. I’m not frustrated,” you say, knowing he won’t believe you.

Tanjiro shakes his head in dismissal. “I don’t think that’s true, (Y/N).”

What are you supposed to say? Of course it’s not true. But admitting that you’ve been feeling heated around him lately would ruin everything, so refuse to say it. “I…I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say it. Can I prove it to you?”

What does he mean? Your head jerks up and down in acquiescence. You barely have to wait a moment before Tanjiro’s hands are slipping down your sides to the waistband of your pants and tugging them down over your hips. A tap on your hipbones prompts you to lift your hips and let him remove the clothing, not that you know why you’re complying so blindly.

Just like you always do.

Is he still trying to take care of you? Putting himself in a caretaker’s role because he thinks you need him? This is going a little far, too far maybe, but you can’t deny you want this. The heat of his body is no longer stifling—instead, it feels like it’s pulling you into him.

When your pants are out of the way, Tanjiro reaches into your underwear and dabs against your slit. It’s not until you feel his finger sliding between the puffy lips of your cunt that you realize how wet you are…and of course he can feel it too. Your knees jerk together to try and push him away from you but he’s unfazed, his touch steadily becoming more intrusive as he seeks out the syrupy dampness from your pussy.

“What am I feeling right now? I want you to tell me.”

“You’re—you’re touching me?” you gasp out.

“And you’re all wet. You can’t tell me you haven’t been frustrated when you’re getting this wet with just my fingers.” At this, you feel him prodding deeper into your pussy and stretching you open.

“Nn—okay, fine! Fine!” The words come out of you in a rapid burst, and you finally muster up the resolve to push Tanjiro away from you by his shoulders. “I’ll go back to my room and deal with it, okay? You don’t have to do it for me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can trust you to take care of this problem by yourself. You’ve been lying to me about your needs.”

You wish he wasn’t able to be so calm while you feel like your entire face is on fire. He pulls his hand out of your panties and backs up on the bed so his torso is framed between your legs. “Can you let me help you, (Y/N)? Let me take care of you.”

You lick your lips without realizing you’re doing it, and Tanjiro’s eyes follow the motion. You can barely comprehend what he’s asking. You want it. You want his hands on you; you want to be taken care of in the way he’s offering. But whether or not you can actually ask for it is another story. “Tanjiro…”

“You need this. I know you do.” He skims his palm over your bare thigh in a soothing motion that, oddly enough, puts your barbed nerves a fraction at ease. “I want you to be honest with me about what you need.”

It’s too much. The warmth of his body so tantalizingly close to yours, his shadowed eyes searching yours for a response you don’t know how to give him…and the sticky mess in your panties. Tanjiro’s giving you a free pass to get something you’ve wanted for longer than you can comfortably admit to yourself, and you’re not sure you could deny him if you tried. What can you tell him except the truth? “I want you. I need you.”

“Good girl. See how good it feels to be honest?” Tanjiro bows down and mouths over your pussy through the wet spot on your panties.

It’s not the honesty that feels good, you think as his tongue pads at you through the fabric.

Too impatient to wait another second to taste you, Tanjiro nudges your rear up and slides your panties down your legs. As soon as you kick the undergarment off your feet, he’s pulling your thighs back apart and curling his thickly-muscled arms around them to hold you securely as his head dips back down to your bare pussy. He wastes no time in laving his tongue over your slit and up to the button at the top.

The sensation of this hot, wet muscle pressing up against your most private area is…weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt anything like this—to be honest, you don’t even know exactly what Tanjiro’s doing. When you think about what’s actually happening on this bed—your (friend? partner? bedmate? crush?) ally has his mouth angled between your legs and is licking your pussy—you think you might spontaneously combust. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and however strange the feeling is, you’re more than aware of your hips grinding up toward Tanjiro just so you can feel more of it.

“Here, let me help…” Tanjiro effortlessly lifts you to place a pillow under your lower back, and then moves back down to continue his relentless licking, this time at a new angle that allows him full access to every millimeter of your raw cunt. He’s eating you out like your pussy is the last meal he’ll ever have.

And how can he help it? You taste so good, so sweet on his lips and over his tongue. You must have been in so much pain lying next to him every night with your desire leaking out between your thighs. Just thinking about is making heat rise low in his groin, and his grip on you is getting tighter by the second. How awful that you tried to keep this to yourself…it was remiss of him not to realize before tonight that you needed him so badly.

But it’s going to be alright, because judging from the muffled noises you’re making, every swipe of his tongue licking up your slit is more than making it up to you.

You probably don’t realize how much your hips are wiggling under his minstrations. He barely has to exert any effort to keep you still, but the way you keep trying you push yourself closer to him is enticing, not to mention the way you’re trying (and failing) to keep your voice down through your moans.

“Tanjiro…T-Tanjiro,” you whimper. It’s like you can’t think of anything except for his name. All of your attention is focused on the pressure building up deep in your core, each stroke of his tongue over your clit taking you higher and higher. You feel tense…wound up so tightly that you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from letting the shallow puffs of air turn into full-fledged cries.

Just like that, please, please… You think the words rather than saying them, even though you want to. It’s too humiliating to be begging Tanjiro for more while he’s already giving you more than you deserve, but it’s almost like he heard you anyway, because his tongue writhes down across your clit again and your back arches up off the bedspread.

Your thighs twitch around his head, trying involuntarily to hold him down. He just chuckles and keeps you firmly in place, and his voice hums out over your pussy making feel even more wild. “Please, I’m—I’m cumming…” Your voice trails off and you crush the heels of your palms into your face to cover up your expression while the wave of pleasure hits you so hard you think you might faint.

Tanjiro doesn’t stop. You’re crying out in whimpers so high-pitched he can barely hear them, but he doesn’t stop. The delicate muscles in your pussy are throbbing under his tongue, but he doesn’t stop licking until you’re almost crying, panting out “it’s too much it’s too much, please Tanjiro” and pushing his head away with your hand.

When he finally pulls away, his hair is tangled and disarrayed from where you’ve been running your hands through it, and his mouth and jaw are shining wet. Tanjiro licks his lips and if you didn’t feel shaky before…you do now.

It takes a second for the power of thought to return to you, but when it does you just sigh weakly and flop back down onto the bed. Tanjiro’s next to you before you hit the pillow, and he grips your jaw with one hand to angle your head to meet his, and—

He’s kissing you. He’s actually kissing you. His lips are surprisingly soft over yours, but as usual there’s an unnecessary degree of pressure attached to the contact that has you sinking deeper into your blankets under his force. You can detect the lush, slightly bitter taste of your arousal coating the inside of his mouth as his tongue (skillful as ever) traces over yours. Tanjiro is kissing you, and it’s a hundred times better than any dream you could come up with on your own, so you kiss back.

It takes him a long moment to break the kiss, long enough that your lungs are pleading for air by the end of it. When his lips leave yours, a thin trail of saliva connects the two of you until it breaks and drips down your chin.

“Tanjiro…” You search for the right words, but what are you supposed to say at a time like this? “I…what did we just do?”

“Shh, don’t worry.” Tanjiro leans in again, this time just to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’m going to take good care of you, okay?”

You take a moment and then duck your head into a nod. It doesn’t make any sense—how does he do that?—but once he says it’s okay it always is.

[navegandoaciegas]

Hay(wire)

Kinktober 1/31 : quickie, face fucking, facial.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected vaginal sex, sex in a barn, oral sex, facial, set after the events of CA:TWS.

Yeah, I actually did it 💀

A/N: day 1 of @itgetsdarksometimes35 spooky challenge + Kinktober.

Bucky despises you.

He loathes how his heart rate picks up whenever he sees you, or how the pit in his stomach grows larger when he doesn't. He can’t stand the way the other farmers talk about you and look at you, but mostly he hates how you bite your lips and clench your thighs when he catches you staring, the tangy scent that floods his senses when he’s close to you, and how you never question why an American veteran would be picking hayballs in the Romanian countryside.

He hates your kindness, the way you hang onto his every word when he describes the night sky, your stained hands and the flowers you weave in your hair, your nipples showing through your white t-shirts, his blood draining from his brain and shooting straight to his cock just looking at you.

You bring out the beast, the soldat lingering inside some recess in his mind, the side of him that wants to own you, and ruin you for everyone else.

You bother him, talking and being nice. Smiling. Cracking jokes. Eating your lunch with him when the other boys are too afraid to approach him. Filling the silence with your stories while he munches on buni’s sarmalele and merely grunts in acknowledgement. Bringing him water when he sweats buckets under the sweltering sun. Shamelessly flirting like you find him attractive.

As if a pretty girl like you could ever want him, he thinks, with the stench of horse shit clinging to his skin and oozing out of his pores.

He scoffs at himself, and stacks another hayball, willing himself to forget all about you.

-

You know he hears your steps on the cobblestones before you enter the barn where he’s stacking hay in neat piles, like he always does before going to bed.

“You can continue this tomorrow, I’m sure buni won’t mind if you take a break.” you quip, closing the door and leaning on the wooden stall.

You eye his tanned skin, reddened by the scorching August sun, the strain on his sweaty long sleeved t-shirt that clings to his bulging biceps, the outline of his back muscles as his chest heaves.

There’s something animalistic about him, something that makes your stomach churn and your pussy tingle. When his t-shirt trails up, you can’t help but observe the hard planes of his abs and the coarse, black hair that trail them.

“I’m doing what she pays me for, and so should you.”

He dismisses you with a curt nod as he keeps lifting the hay and stacking it away for the winter.

By that time, you’ll both be long gone, so you might as well make the most of what you have.

“I’m done picking plums, if you must know.” you state, an unimpressed look making its way on your face. “You work twelve hours everyday, and you won’t drink her țuică or smoke the cigarettes she gives the other boys.” you say, approaching him slowly until you’re standing in front of him, so close you can see the darkness in his eyes and smell his pungent sweat, “She worries about you, you know.”

Your eyes stray from his, traveling down to his plump lips. He swallows thickly and inhales a sharp breath.

“I worry too.” you continue, stalking closer.

His manly, musky scent is intoxicating, and you feel short of breath, heat and slick pooling in your panties.

“Always working, never having any fun. Life must be very lonely for you.”

There’s static energy, or maybe magic, between you two.

“My life’s just fine.”

He’s gruff as always, but you hear his voice waver when his eyes drop to your own lips, and he finds them parted, and so inviting.

You shrug, feeling your skin crawl with anticipation, want, need. “I know, I’m just saying, I could make it less… lonely.”

You see him cave. You know he wants you, and he’s never exactly subtle about it. But when your hand reaches for his left arm, the spell shatters, the air gets sucked out of the little barn, and the growl that he lets out terrifies you and excites you at the same time.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” he snarls, snatching his arm away from you. He looms over you, rage burning behind his steel blue eyes. “Or-”

He interrupts himself, taking a step back and restraining whatever wild instinct is clouding his judgement. The veins on his neck swell up, and the smirk on your lips and your tangy smell only add to his irritation.

You know you shouldn’t prod. You know he could crack your skull in half without breaking a sweat.

But you’ve also seen him bathed in spring’s pollen, cooing at newborn chicks and patting their feathers, whispering soft words in a language you don’t speak. You’ve seen him kissed by the summer’s sunrise, leaning his head on uică Dan’s horse while petting his mane, and humming to mătușă Ana’s cow while milking her.

You’ve seen him sneak outside your room every morning for the past two months to leave wildflowers on your doorstep, and you know he’s the one who carries you to your bed when you fall asleep on the deck chairs outside, after stargazing together for hours, and pecks a lingering kiss on your forehead, whispering to you, his sweet girl, to sleep tight.

So no, you’re not afraid, and very turned on.

“Or what, big guy? What are you going to do?”

Jaw clenched, fists so tight his knuckles are white, nostrils flared. He closes his eyes, heaves a heavy sigh and mutters a ‘fuck that’ under his breath, and in a blur he’s on you.

But he’s not hitting you, no.

Just like you predicted, he goes haywire, feral, his mouth is on yours, his tongue prods your lips, his hands roam everywhere, tangling your hair and kneading the flesh of your ass.

He bites your bottom lip, and you taste metal on your tongue. A moan escapes you when one of his thick thighs comes between your own, and your core rubs against the rough material of his jeans.

“Took you long enough.” you tease him when he allows you to catch your breath.

He’s sweaty, rough, his clothes soiled by the ground he spends his days working on, and you find that you don’t care, that you want him to dirty you and ruin you in this barn, with hay poking your skin and cicadas screaming outside.

You’re staring at each other, panting, eyes swallowed by darkness.

He doesn’t answer, never speaks much anyways. He’s on you again, his hand on your throat, and it doesn’t hurt but it’s tight enough to make its threatening presence known.

Your walls flutter around nothing.

The other hand, splayed on your back, guides you as you grind yourself on his thigh. It’s been two months of sexual tension, and it’s about to explode.

You reach for his t-shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours, but he stops you, and the look in his eyes, hard yet pleading, is enough to make the protest die in your throat.

Your own shirt is discarded, maybe shred to pieces. His touch is bruising and desperate as he explores your body like it’s his last day on Earth.

He nips and sucks your skin, surely leaving dark marks behind, rolling and pinching your nipples between his fingers, swirling his tongue around them until you’re pushing him off of you.

“I need you.” you moan, shrieking when his teeth bite down on your shoulder.

Pain is a bucket of cold water on your burning skin, a contrast to the pleasure he brings you, and yet it doesn’t diminish it, but amplify it until his teeth on your flesh are all you want.

He lets himself fall on the hay, dragging you down with him. It irks you, pokes you, and quite frankly, it doesn’t smell like roses.

But it will do.

He hooks his fingers around the waistband of your leggings and hastly drags them down to your knees, not even bothering to get rid of them.

When he pulls on your hair and spins you around, it’s not romantic. When he forces you face down, ass up, it’s not pretty. When he spits on his hand and roughly shoves two fingers inside you, making you wince, it’s not soft and caring.

“I’ll take care of you later, need to be inside you now, doll. I’ve wanted you since the day I first saw you.” he murmurs.

You hear him fumble with his belt as he keeps rubbing your clit and pumping his calloused fingers in and out of you. “It’s been so long.” he adds, as an afterthought, while he strokes his cock and gets himself ready for you.

The hay scratches your cheeks, and you feel his intense presence as he kneels behind you, ready to take you like an animal in heat.

“Please.” you whine, wiggling your hips and brushing against him, “I need you to fuck me now, James.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing your folds and smearing your arousal on his tip. You feel him prod your tight hole and you brace yourself for the pain, but when he breaches you, your walls stretch perfectly around him, accomodating him, and all you feel is a dull burn that soon gives way to pleasure.

Moaning at the fullness of his heavy weight inside you, you try to bounce on him, but his hands on your hips halt your movement. He's as rough as you expected him to be, and the coil in your core is unbearable.

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” he groans, picking up a faster pace, slamming in and out of you. “Made for me, so good.”

He pulls on your hair, and the pain shoots straight to your cunt, making your walls clench on him.

Arching your back you meet his harsh thrusts, feeling his cock hitting that spot inside you, the one that makes the pressure build impossibly fast every time he bumps against it.

It’s all too much and not enough, and when he tugs on your hair again, your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You don’t feel the hay scratching you anymore.

“Fuck me harder.” you plead with tears streaming down your face, revelling in the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy and the slapping ones of his balls hitting your folds.

He never talks, and he won’t start now, you realize. You don’t care though, because all you can think about is his other hand snaking between your legs and furiously rubbing circles around your swollen clit.

You mewl when he snaps his hips and his tip hits your cervix. “I wanna hear those sweet noises pretty girl, wanna hear you fall apart on my cock, only for me.”

He brings you high, and higher, and the pressure grows more and more, until the knot unravels.

“Cum on my cock, fuck, cum all over me sweet girl. I missed this so much.”

When the dam breaks, you feel months of sexual tension release, and the tight coil inside your belly snaps. Your limbs jerk as a hot surge of electricity assails you, and you gush all over his cock, feeling your pussy constrict him in a vice.

He rides your aftershock, pummeling inside you while icy cold claws your every nerve ending. You’re drooling out of your mouth as a man you barely know brutally fucks you like a beast, but in the hazy state you’re in, you couldn’t care any less.

“I’m close.” he gnarls, tightening the hold on your hips, “Where can I-?

“On my face.” You turn and peek over your shoulder just in time to see the shock in his eyes. “I like it that way.” And I’m not on birth control.

When his thrusts become sloppier and his breathing erratic, he pulls out of you and stands. You turn around on your knees and face his thick cock, half wondering how he could make it fit inside your cunt.

“Open those pretty lips of yours babydoll, I want to fuck your mouth too.”

You comply, parting your lips. He shoves himself inside you, clutching your hair and neck as he fucks your mouth relentlessly, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

You can’t breathe anymore, but he keeps going, moving your head along his length. You taste him on your mouth, heady and salty, feeling every vein and ridge of him.

You look up, and seeing him all disheveled, hair sticking out everywhere and red faced, lights the fire in your pussy again.

Your hand finds its way between your folds while he holds you down until your nose rubs against the coarse hair on his pubic bones and his balls slap against your chin.

Quickly, he slides out of you, and pumps his cock once, twice. He cums on your face with a moan, painting your lips, cheeks and the tip of your nose with his white hot spurt.

When you open your eyes again, you find him staring at you already, with the most expressive look you’ve ever seen him wear and something akin to a smile dancing on his lips.

“God, doll. I didn’t even know I could do that.” he confesses, all doe eyed. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, babygirl. I’m gonna keep fucking that tight pussy of yours all summer.”

You let out a giggle when he hoists you over his shoulder and the hay that’s stuck to your clothes flies everywhere.

“Gonna fuck you until you’re sore, until you’re sobbing and you beg me to stop. Fill you up over and over again. Make this pussy all mine. No more other farm boys, you hear me?”

He keeps his word that night, and you keep yours all August long, and you know neither of you want this summer to ever end.

—-

Day 1 of Kintober done. Join my taglist if you want to be tagged in more :) (link on my blog)

Please leave some feedback :)

[angelsandarsenic]

Winter is Coming!! *Excitement* So have some DreamSMP Ski/Snowboard Headcanons!

Dsmp hits the slopes Pt. 1

Techno:

--Mainly skis but also boards

 --there’s a video of him totally booking it right past one of those big yellow signs that says “turning is cool! No straight lining”

--Phil is in the background saying “techno nO this is how you hit that child last time!”

--last time was actually when he was younger and still learning and wasn’t going crazy fast. No one got hurt thankfully

--he does come concerningly close to hitting children way too often

--complains about having to wait for Dream to strap into his board when he skis with them

--just wears a hoodie instead of an actual jacket, either with two black diamonds on it or an Antarctic Empire ski brand hoodie

(Antarctic Empire would be such a cool name for a winter sports brand)

Dream:

--half and half snowboard and ski

--can do blacks, terrain parks and glades all day but will fall in the common area going back to the lift

--doesn’t like skiing/boarding alone (he gets in a depressive Mood and gets way too reckless, or has to resist just laying down at the top of the mountain because everything is too much work and he doesn't have the energy)

--loves to race George, Sap, Bad, Sam and Ant (he always wins)

--sometimes uses his poles to trip them up on purpose (only cuz he knows they’ll be fine)

--he and techno score people’s wipeouts from the lift

--the one thing he can’t get the hang of is fancier butter tricks and he rage quits (then tries again next time)

Philza:

--used to snowboard and is still pretty good but switched to skis (no poles)

--has tons of stickers on his board from everywhere he’s been

--the graphics on his skis are murders of crows (flock murders not kill murders)

--one of the greatest back country skiiers and snowboarders with kristen

--he and Kristin always take some time to admire the scenery

--taught Techno how to board

Tommy:

--tried to learn to snowboard when Wilbur did but got frustrated quickly with how much he wiped out and switched over to skis

--he’s very speedy. One might even think he doesn’t know how to stop properly...

--In response to the Techno video Wilbur sent one back of Tommy screaming and running right through the middle of the “high speed kills! Slow down!” Sign

Tubbo:

--also tried snowboarding cuz Tommy did. He was a natural talent but switched to skis later

--always gets distracted by the grey jays

--goes through the trees as much as possible

--whenever Ranboo is down ahead of him he screams “IM A GIRAFFE” as he goes by

--got distracted and forgot to get off the lift once

--has one of the jackets with the fur around the hood

Wilbur:

--snowboard, still learning

--he stays on the blues with Tommy

--he’ll be doing great but then eat snow pretty bad and get nervous and slower for the rest of the day

--a bit scared about switching edges

--he rides the edges really bad and tears them up and tires himself out more because he's also nervous he'll lose his balance going straight on and fall

Ranboo:

--started on skis but was a bit too clumsy kept and crossing them over each other and stuff and switched to snowboard

--brings necklaces to throw on the trees with Tubbo

--Wilbur gets kinda annoyed when Boo passes him, also that he’s so good at switching edges

--learned snowboarding really fast but doesn’t want to go on blacks just yet

--clumsy off the lifts

Bad Boy Halo:

--snowboards

--memorized the maps and always knows where he is

--has to remind skeppy that the closed runs are closed for a reason

--always makes sure to put the bar down on the lift, also that person that makes friends with everyone on the lift

--loves the glades

Skeppy:

--loves jumping everything but the rails kinda scare him

--has gone speeding out of control into the trees once

--always wants to do the most perilous runs

--“just point me in the direction we’re going”, has gotten lost multiple times

--speedy

George:

--skis

--always listening to music

--will complain about having to wait for people when they fall or just leaves them behind

--he and dream both spray slow/fallen people when they go by

--the only time he falls is when he zones out and isn’t paying attention

--almost always late getting out cuz he slept in

Bonus: Kristin:

--skis

--helps people on and off the lifts but can’t help but laugh when they fall

--always down to give tips to people who ask

--also loves glades and back country

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

---

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[sleepyweepypeaches]

—————————————————

Hawks | Striper

Hawks x Striper reader

| Fluff ☁️ | Head cannon-fic 📌 |

—————————————————

☁️There was gossip going around that some villains had been hanging out at the club you worked at. It wasn't a big deal till the club owner was introducing number two hero Hawks to you.

☁️He explained to you that the villains had a large public presence and needed to be contained qiutley. The villains happened to be some of your regulars. So Hawks came up with a plan. You would invite them into a back room and he and some of his sidekicks would follow behind and arrest them.

☁️Hawks could see that you were a little frightened. He crouched down in front of where you were sitting and gently took one of your hands in his. “I’ll be right behind you the whole time. I won't let them put a finger on you Y/n. I promise.”

☁️The evening of the arrest. Hawks visited you before the club opened. Making sure you were doing alright and you remembered the plan.

☁️Later that night you approached the villains after a show. Offering to give them a ‘tour of the back rooms’. You were very captivating with your transparent lingerie and demeanor. The villains were more than willing to oblige.

☁️As you led them to the back rooms you felt little feathers brush up against your fingers. Reminding you that you were safe and Hawks were right behind you.

☁️They followed you into the room one by one. Only a minute had passed before Hawks and his sidekicks came in behind them. One of the villains went to grab at you in an attempt to take a hostage. But Hawks was to fast for him. Grabbing you by the shoulders and leading you out the room while his sidekicks took care of the villains.

☁️“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. A feather from his wings flying off down the hallway. “Yes, I'm fine. Thank you.” As you say this his feather comes flying back carrying your robe from the changing room. Hawks takes the robe and drapes it around you. “Of course, I'm a hero! It's my job to keep people safe. Are you sure you're okay? You look a little spooked.” Hawks looked at you concerned. “I'm kinda freaked out but I'll be okay. I appreciate the concern.” Hawks give you a sweet smile and walked you to the dressing room. He thanked you for the help, talked to the owner of the club and made sure you get a couple days off. And left with his sidekicks and the villains.

☁️You gladly took those days off. When you got back to work there were some flowers there waiting for you.

☁️ -Just wanted to thank you again for your help. I didn't think it was fair that we put you through all that trouble and the commission didn’t give you a reward. So I thought I'd take up the task. ;) - Love your favorite Pro hero -

☁️Was written on a card attached to a visa next to your flowers.

☁️One of the other stripers came up behind you

☁️“Hay Y/n?”

☁️“Ya?”

☁️“Did you get sent flowers and a one-thousond dollar visa from fucking Hawks.”

☁️“I think so? Can you pay rent with a visa?”

☁️“I think you can!”

☁️Rent? Paid 😌✨

☁️Flowers? Dead in two week but the gesture is still appreciated 😌✨

☁️A couple months later you turn on the news to find one of the villains you helped get arrested had somehow broken out of prison. You feel your stomach chern. Worried about going to work. But you knew the club’s owner didn't give a shit and you need the money.

☁️Getting ready in the dressing room. There's a loud knock at the door. Everyone turns around to see hawks standing outside the doorway. With his face looking down and eyes glancing at you. Everyone immediately turns and looks at you smiling. You rolled your eyes at them. After he sent you those flowers and visa everyone was gossiping about Hawks being your sugar daddy.

☁️“Hawks?” Hawks look up. He flashes a smile before his expression worsens. “Hay Y/n, I'm guessing you heard about the villain already. When I got the news the first person I thought about was you and I got worried. He might come back here, but I don’t know. Is it okay if I stay and scope out the place for a couple nights. Just to make sure you're safe.”. “Ya, of course. I was actually kinda nervous to come into work. But now I feel a lot better!” You smiled at him. “I'm glad. You know, we really gotta stop meeting like this.” He winked at you. You laughed.

☁️The past two nights were the same. You would do your shows, count your money, go home. Hawks would walk you to your car every night. It was nice, he made you feel safe. You told him that, instead of saying “that's what heroes do.” He took it to heart. “It makes me really happy to know that.” He smiles at you.

☁️The next day he wasn't there. You were jumpy the whole night. Wondering ware Hawks was. If they found the villain all ready. Or if Hawks just got bored waiting around and went to look for the villain himself.

☁️He was back the day after. “I’m sorry. I had some other villain business I really needed to take care of. I had three of my side kicks here last night though. You know I’d never leave you hanging!”

☁️The seventh day, nothing interesting was happening. It was crowded and sweaty like every other night. Hawks was sitting in between the front door and the way to the dressing room like he always did, Then.

☁️A gunshot went off. The bang pierced through the music. A bullet ricocheted off your pole. You let out a yelp as you slammed to the floor. You stayed down on the floor covering your face. People started to panic, moving out of the way and rushing out the door. Hawks flew over to you as fast as he could. Holding you close to his chest and wrapping his wings around you. He sent some large feathers flying through the club. He quickly found the villain. His feathers sliced his hand disarming him and pinning him to the ground. Hawks sidekick ran to restrain the villain. Hawks picks you up and brings you to the back away from the comoshin.

☁️He frantically checked your body for any injuries or blood. ‘Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”. There was no blood, no injuries. But you were shaking with tears rolling down your face. You just got shot at, of course you're terrified. Hawks takes a deep breath.“ Its okay. I’ve got you, you're going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He holds you close and rubs your arms trying to comfort you. You can't help but wrap your arms around him, needing comfort. Then you felt them. The little feathers that tickled your hand when you first got nervous around those villains. You were able to catch your breath and come down. But you were most definitely not okay.That was such a close call you could have died.

☁️Once you stopped crying Hawks wrapped your robe around you. “Y/n, Are you okay?” He asked you quietly. “You know, we really gotta stop meeting like this. Next time you ask a favor of me it better be to get coffee! Because I'm never helping you with anything else ever again.” You laughed. Hawks laughs “Understandable, I might just do that!” He feels absolutely terrible. He will never not think about what happened that night.

☁️Ya’ll went for coffee and actually hit it off

☁️You’ll start going on coffee runs together whenever you can

☁️Watch so happens to be three in the morning

☁️You’ll be the only two in the shop sitting in a corner. Talking about work.

☁️Hawks loves to hear the gossip that goes around the club.

☁️And you love to hear the hero gossip.

☁️It was a cute little twenty-four hour coffee shop. With low warm lights. And little plants and flowers everywhere. The air smells like a mix of vanilla coffee and oranges. It was really sweet and peaceful.

☁️You and Hawks started becoming really good friends.

☁️But once winter came, something in Hawks changed.

☁️The air was cold. The ground outside was frosted over as little white flurys fell from the sky. You sat in front of a frosted window that was decorated in Periwinkle and baby’s breath. Behind the frosted window were gold holiday lights that glowed brightly.

☁️Your hair was fluffy from the shower you took before leaving work. Your eyes sparkled the reflection of holiday lights from around the shop. You were in a cozy sweater holding your coffee up to your mouth with both hands wrapped around it. Your lips blowing on it gently. Your cheeks were blushed from the cold weather outside.

☁️He wanted to kiss you so bad.

☁️But he couldn’t, so he just sat there and listened to you talk. Like he always does.

☁️After a long while. You paid for your coffees and left.

☁️You two stopped at an empty crosswalk. Even though there wasn't a single person around in that sleepy city, you still waited. Taking it slow and enjoying your time together.

☁️You breathed in the cool crisp air. Looking over at Hawks. He looked tired, but happy. The holiday and street lights behind him blurred as you focused on only him. Snow flurries caught in his hair and eyelashes. His eyes glowed gold against the streetlights. He wore a brown jacket lined with white fur and a dusty red henley sweater. Warm air escaped his soft lips in a white cloud. And his cheeks and nose were pink from the cold weather.

☁️You wanted to kiss him so bad.

☁️“Hey,” You said.

☁️“Ya?’ He asked in return.

☁️You step in front of him. Bringing your face to his. He didn't back away. So you held his face. His lips parted slightly and he took a deep breath in. And you kissed him.

☁️It felt so gentle and natural. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

☁️He almost said ‘I love you’ because he really does. You've captivated every bit of his mind and heart.

☁️When you two start dating he's so excited and supportive.

☁️He doesn't come to the club. Not after what he put you through there.

☁️But he doesn't need to go to the club, he can have all the private shows and more back at home 😌

☁️He really likes your classy lingerie, he thinks it makes you look like royalty.

☁️Insets on massaging your sore muscles even tho his are just as sore

☁️Kisses your bruises

☁️Work related?

☁️Kiss

☁️Keigo related?

☁️Kiss

☁️“Is this one from work or me???”

☁️“Work”

☁️“Oh” 🥺

☁️Kiss

☁️“This one from work?”

☁️“No that’s from you”

☁️“Oh shit, sorry love” 😳

☁️Two kisses

☁️He’s very supportive of you. Sex work is just as valid and inportent as anyother job.

☁️I don’t know why but he's very good at sewing so he helps sew up any outfits you accidently ripped.

☁️He thinks you're so talented in everything you do.

☁️You have some muscles that he doesn't even have and he thinks it amazing.

☁️He’ll marvel at you all day if he could.

☁️You're beautiful and sexy and strong. And he's always going to be undoubtedly, blissfully, in love with you.

—————————————————

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

[alreadyblondenow]

Melt with you | Lee Taeyong

✦ Lee Taeyong x reader ✦ Fluff, Smut, Smut, Smut, Angst, Jack Frost AU ✦ 2/5 for HOLIDAY SERIES: Once Upon A December

Summary: After being the guardian of winter, Taeyong finds himself falling in love with you while he takes care of your daughter secretly. “I’ll see you in your next life,” he says, and so he did. He waited for your next life and make you fall in love with him, until Taeyong can’t cheat on fate anymore and decided to give you to your real soulmate.

Word count: 8,550k

Warnings: A lot of smut, unprotected sex and protected sex, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, and oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mentions of other idols, fingering, accidental period sex, trying to have a baby but can’t, virginity loss, virgin taeyong, experienced reader, poor taeyog (no money), mentions of dying, almost dying Taeyong, pregnancy test and getting a negative result always, mentions of rough sex, mature themes, established relationship, divorce.

A/N: PURE FICTION. Inspired by the movie Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians, Marriage Story, 500 days of summer.... Personally I wanted this to be my own version of Jack Frost and focused a lot with Taeyong and so much about the reader sorry :( but I think I did a pretty bad job about that. Jaehyun is a cupid here, and Doyoung is the easter bunny. Dont forget that hehehe. hope you enjoy.

The snow was pretty thick today and according to the news, there will be a snowstorm that will hit the town by late afternoon. Running like the wind and flying fast, the spirit of winter that makes the town cold and ready for the Holiday season came out to enjoy the said storm. As the spirit of winter, Taeyong did not just go out today so he could have a great time, but he has to make sure that the town will be safe once the storm arrives.

“Can we go out and skate? I promise I’ll be back before the storm arrives” your nine year old daughter whines to you and your husband, Taeil. You look at Taeil while he chews his pancakes, and shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous” he says.

“But-“

“No buts, baby. You can play indoors and you can skate all you want after the storm” he reasons out. She pouts and crossed her arms, giving her father a look, and did not finish her breakfast. Even though Taeil said no, his daughter is so stubborn that she sneaked out to meet her friend from behind their house to go skating.

The storm is fast approaching and the wind is getting stronger and it is slowly becoming a blizzard. When the little girl soon realizes that she made the wrong decision because she sees that it’s obviously dangerous, it was too late because they seem to have lost their way back home. “I can’t see a thing! Don’t let go of my hand!” she shouts at her friend, squeezing her hand so tight so she won’t lose her. The wind was so strong that they can’t move their bodies, not to mention it was so cold and it’s getting really hard to try and move.

“Didn’t your parents told you not to go out! There’s a storm coming- here give me your hand” Taeyong came out of nowhere and helped the girls through the storm and guide their way back home like the guardian that he is. He made sure that the girls will go home safely so he turned into his human form and brought them home safely. Your daughter hugged you so tight and quickly apologized for being stubborn and promised she won’t do it again.

While Taeyong on the other hand, watches you and your daughter reunite, he felt the world slow down and feel every snowflake fall oh so slowly when he saw your face. You’re so beautiful he thought. It took one look for him to completely fall in love with you, his heart melts at how you hold your daughter with such care and full of love. Being a mother suits you. But then he saw your husband Taeil coming towards you and your daughter to hug her tightly. Of course, you’re married already, Taeyong murmurs. “Thank you for saving our daughter and her friend” Taeil thanks Taeyong sincerely for what he has done.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll get going” Taeyong smiled and looked at your beauty one last time before he leaves, I’ll see you in your next life.

From there on, Taeyong became your daughter’s secret guardian until the winter season is finally over just so he can see you. But whenever you’re with your husband, he stops himself to respect your marriage and remind himself that it’s not yet his time to love you. He figured his time will come and he will have the chance to grow old with you too, all he has to do is wait so there's no need to get jealous. It was a long wait for Taeyong, but he endured it while fulfilling his duty as the spirit of winter.

Every winter season, Taeyong comes back to your house and see how you’ve been while he was gone. Too bad he can’t be with you every second because he couldn't come over during the summer. But every winter, the spirit followed you like a shadow and admire your beauty with every chance he got.

After years and years of waiting, Taeyong’s suffering is finally over now that you’re gone and ready to be born again. Although he has to wait for a couple of years before he can approach you, introduce himself and make you fall in love with him, Taeyong was really excited and happy.

The spirit of winter waited for you during the spring, summer, fall, and winter for years and years. Watching you grow up, watching you go to school until you finish college, even watch you have your first heartbreak. Love is patient and Taeyong can and will stretch his patience for you until the right time comes.

“So she’s the one? Is this really worth it?” Jaehyun the cupid whines. Some of the guardians are with him and here to watch him leave and pursue love. They were all against it because Taeyong could lose his powers and die eventually, but he will not change his mind now.

“Being a human is hard, you know that right?” the easter bunny reminds his best friend, trying so hard to stop him.

“In five minutes, her car will break down in that street” Taeyong breathes in deeply, feeling excited but somehow sad because his friends aren’t supporting him and have been trying to change his mind until the last minute. “I’ve been taking care of kids that I don’t know, I’ve been doing my duty… now let me take care of her”

Soon his friends gave up and gave him a tight hug before he transforms and become a human. They will miss him of course, not to mention they don’t know how long will Taeyong be away. Just as he predicted, your car broke down on the side of the street and he has never been so excited. As we walk towards where your car broke down, his hair is slowly turning brown from silver white, the halo in his eyes is gone, and now that he’s human he can feel cold now.

“Here goes nothing” he murmurs and walked under the snowstorm, cold and freezing. He walked past your car, which got stranded in the middle of the road because of the storm, you see him and bought his acting and did not have second thoughts to call him out.

“Hey!” you got out of the car, struggling to go call him but Taeyong heard you well. He slowly turned towards you and walked weakly, Doyoung is right being a human is hard. “You must be freezing. Come inside my car we can wait for this storm to pass, please” you begged. Of course, he accepted your offer and went back inside your car with you. The moment you two were settled inside safely, he felt bad for making you come after him under the storm but he didn’t have a choice.

He wanted to look at your face like how he normally does but now is different because you can see him already. “I’m Taeyong. Thank you for helping me” he started, putting his hands towards the heater. It was a sweet moment for him and you have no idea. You have no idea how long he has waited for this moment to happen, you have no idea how many times he imagined this scenario in his head.  

“I’m Y/n. Why are you walking under this storm? Did your car broke down and you went out to get some help?”

Taeyong was once again turned into stone because he can’t believe that you can talk to him now, he shook his head and answered your question. “Y-yes. My car broke down and my heater stopped working” lies. Taeyong stopped talking so he could stop lying to you. He admired your face while you enjoy the limited heat, you looked much younger than the first time he met you but you’re still beautiful. Even more beautiful actually.

Your cursing brought him back to reality again and started getting worried because you’re frowning. “Oh- shit, this isn’t happening” you whine and looked at him, “gosh I’m sorry. The heater stopped, it must be because of my car’s battery. Shit we are going to freeze here,” you said your sorry so many times to the guy sitting beside you because you’re the one who offered helped but now that your heater stopped working you feel ashamed for dragging him.

“No no. Don’t be” you watch him remove his jack and let him wrapped it around you. “There, I’m returning the favor. Were even now. Seriously, I’m fine and I’m thankful for you” His smile warms your heart and suddenly your worries banished the moment he said he’s thankful to you.

Hours have already passed and Taeyong wanted to go out and look for help now because you’re freezing and soon you’ll be sick. He has an idea but he’s scared you won’t like it and you’ll think of him as a pervert, but he nicely explained his plan and cleared his intentions so he won’t scare you. “If we don’t share body heat… you can end up getting sick and that’s the last thing we want right now. We can… c-cuddle until help finds us” he was getting shy too but you think that he’s sweet for thinking about your health even though you just met a few hours ago.

You accepted his offer and soon you and Taeyong cuddle at the back of your car, sharing body heat to survive this cold. Even though Taeyong is the spirit of winter, he can be warm whenever he’s in his human form. “You know that sharing body heat is effective when two parties are naked, right?” you tease him and make him blush. He smiled handsomely and let out an awkward laugh. “Tell me something about yourself,” you asked and try to turn this awkward moment around.

“I don’t know. There’s nothing much about me and nothing interested, how about you?” his voice was enough to make you melt while you hug him and enjoy his warmth. You like how he didn’t try to impress you but instead, he gave you an honest answer about himself.

“Well, since you’re honest, I’ll be honest too. I’m on my way to meet a guy, I have a date tonight but…” you breathe in and out before you continue and contemplate whether it’s right to say this to him or not.

“But?” he tightens his embrace to you as he waits for you to continue your sentence.

“But I’m glad I got stranded and met you”

You feel his heart beat so fast because your bodies are incredibly close, you watch him blush and smile so big making your body warm again. After a few more hours of talking, help finally came and brought you to a safe place where it’s warm. Taeyong did not foresee this, he felt like he’s losing you already and he didn’t know what to do. Clearly, he didn’t plan everything out smoothly before he chose to be human for you, he’s not sure when he’s going to meet you again. He remembers his suffering from your first life and he didn’t want to let you go now and meet Taeil before he could even have his chance.

“Listen” he calls you before you get inside the cab and go home, “I’m poor. I have nothing to offer, I don’t have a car and I purposely walked past your car to grab your attention. But, see me again. Give me a few months to earn some money so I can buy you a decent dinner. I promise I will never lie to you again”

His eyes tell you everything. Obviously, he’s sincere with his words and he spoke nothing but the truth because there were no other broken cars found other than yours. It was Taeyong’s honesty that moved you and made you say yes to the dinner date that he offered. Before you two go on separate ways, you gave him a piece of paper that has your number in it and you can only hope that he will not lose it so you can meet soon.

Taeyong was more than happy for accepting his honesty in exchange for your trust. He doesn’t have any clue to what he’s doing but he’s sure about one thing, if he’s going to make you fall in love with him he wanted to do it right and will all honesty. That’s what you deserve. It might take him a while to find a job, and earn some money but everything will be worth it in time. With that motivation, Taeyong looked for a job that he likes, earn enough money to buy a small place for him to stay, and save up for the date that he promised you.

After a few months, you received a call from an anonymous number and did not hesitate to answer because it could be Taeyong. When you finally heard his voice again, you smiled so big because not only that this man is honest but he knew how to keep his promise.

“I’m still not rich but I have enough money to make us dinner. Uhm… If you still want to have dinner with me, I’ll text you the address and we can have dinner tonight” he bit his lower lip, hoping that his offer is enough to allow him to see you again.

“I don’t need a rich man Taeyong. Send me the address then, I’ll see you tonight” The fact that he will make dinner for the two of you is enough reason for you to say yes.

When the time for the most awaited dinner date has arrived, you two had a great time in his small apartment with a dinner table full of good and delicious food that he made. The date went well, he talked all night telling you how he’s holding up with his new life, he told you he loved working on the daycare that accepted him because he loves taking care of the children and every story that comes out from his mouth is too good to be true but you believe every word he says because you know that he’s honest. Taeyong felt happy seeing you smile because of him and not another man. The waiting he did for you is worth it even though being an independent human is not easy, as always, he’s ready to endure everything for you.

“How about you? What’s your work?” he asks after he overshared his experience from the daycare.

“I work for my parents. At their company” you looked sad the moment you mentioned it and he wondered why. “Let’s just say that, because I’m their daughter they expect too much from me. But I end up disappointing them- I was having a bad day Taeyong, but you called and now everything is fine” you gave him a small smile and continue eating. Knowing that he can make you happy even with the smallest things makes him really happy. It looks like he started on the right foot and hope that this can continue.  

“Will I see you again?” he asks before you get a cab.

“Let’s see each other every day, do you like that?” you bit your lower lip and hope that your flirting will work. It was a bold move but Taeyong is a kind man that made your beat. Little did you know that what you just said made Taeyong really happy that he could cry in front of you but he would rather not. He kissed you on your forehead to answer your question, smiled so sweetly at you, and told you, “Text me the address of your work, I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Get home safe, okay?”

After a few dinner dates, and countless phone calls, and texting, you and Taeyong made everything official between the two of you and sealed it with a kiss under the first snow in the middle of an empty street. But that’s only the start of your relationship. As you continue to see each other day by day or every other day, Taeyong is becoming like the nice warm feeling when the morning sun hits your skin the moment you step out of the house. This happens all the time when he picks you up at work and meets you outside the building and there he is, standing and waiting for you. Not a single word from him but he already, turned your day around.

“Had a rough day?” he asks, swinging his arms around you keeping you close as you two walk with the sea of people.

“Yeah. I did a lot today” you let out a sigh to further express your exhaustion.

“Don’t worry. I’m here now” one smile from him and everything is okay.

Taeyong is not perfect. But you don’t need someone perfect, you need someone who tries. You don’t know where he came from and he may seem ignorant sometimes but he’s not afraid to ask you about something like that one time he wanted to go to the movies with you but he doesn’t know how so he asked you and ruined the surprise. And whenever you ask him about his family background he simply says the truth.

“I don’t have any or maybe I don’t remember much but I do have friends, you can meet them someday. I’m sorry I lack about a lot of things,” you saw the worry in his eyes and disappointment in himself.

“No baby, it’s fine. I just asked. No need to worry about it” from there on you never asked anything about him so he won’t overthink, what you see is what you get and you let yourself accept what he can only give to you.

It’s been almost half a year since you and Taeyong started dating. He may be very different from the guys you dated before him, but it’s okay because that makes him more special. Almost a year together and you and Taeyong haven’t moved your relationship to the next level and by the next level you meant he hasn’t touched you yet, haven’t shared a lustful kiss, and haven’t had sex. It’s like high school all over again.

“Did you know that you’re my first kiss?” he whispered beside your ear. It’s a weekend so you’re staying over in his cozy apartment, enjoying his cold body against you as you sit comfortably in between his legs on his very small couch.

“I’m your first love, Tae that’s given already” you giggle and intertwine your fingers with his. “If I’m your first kiss then you must be a virgin,” you added.

“I am” he giggles and tightens his embrace, “any plans about that?”

“Woah there. Is that an invitation?” you turned your head to meet his eyes and he gave you a wink. Your heart jumped out of excitement when you saw him getting shy, smiling oh so handsomely. So it’s a yes then.

“My knowledge about sex is very limited don’t get too excited,” he says while watching you sit on his lap, legs on both sides. This is new, Taeyong thought. “you’re going to tease me from now on, I get it. But you do look sexy now on top of me” he giggles and pulls you closer for a heated kiss. He never kissed you like this, his hands on your waist gripping it tightly and his tongue… oh his tongue. You never thought he’s capable of such skill.

“Okay let’s not rush and not jump right into having sex,” you said in between kissing. You don’t stop, he doesn’t stop either but he’s listening. “Put your hands inside my shirt” you instruct him and he shyly followed you. You felt his cold hands against your skin, slowly going up to knead your clothed boobs, you feel him harden beneath you and for the first time, you see your boyfriend became horny. You unclasp your bra while you continue kissing each other with want, tongue sucking, lip biting while you enjoy the way he touches you for the first time.

He stopped for a second when you removed your bra in front of him, letting your hard nipples ghost on your thin shirt. He remembered how he used to look away whenever you and Taeil get too intimate, but now you’re his. Slowly he played with the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head to see his girlfriend’s body for the first time. He smiled and kissed you again, touching your boobs gently, brushing his thumb on your nipples, and making you moan softly.  

After that night, Taeyong became confident when it comes to touching you and kissing you with full of lust that sometimes it’s all too much because he’s doing a great job. His kisses alone can make you moan and weak, while the way he fingers you slowly can make you moan his name that his landlord sometimes shush you two. The first time you introduced him to oral sex, was a wild moment for the two of you because he loved it so much and he did a pretty good job for a first timer.

When the time finally comes and you’re both ready to have sex, he didn’t even know how to put on a condom, so you taught him how and you think he’s cute. He told you he wanted to make you happy even in bed, so you let him. “I’ll do my best,” he says, kissing your neck and making you smile before he proceeds to foreplay. His lips travel down from your lips, all the way down to your neck and the valley between your boobs, giving your nipples a soft pinch before he proceeds and licks you for a few seconds. He kisses your lower abdomen, caressing your thighs as he blows cold air on your wet folds, and proceeds to lick your cunt. You feel his cold tongue glide oh so smoothly like there's a piece of ice rubbing on your cunt right now, but it’s Taeyong’s tongue. “Enough teasing Tae. We’ve had enough of that” you moan and pulled him up to face you. It’s true though, you and Taeyong have been giving each other oral for the past few weeks because he’s not yet ready to have sex with you.

“Okay okay. I understand” he says and attacked lips with hungry kisses and starts grinding on top of your body while you surround his small room with sounds of wet kisses. Kissing Taeyong always feels because his lips are always cold and it feels good against your skin. As you admire his lips and the way he kisses you, you feel the tip of his cock on your entrance and feel him push in slowly catching every sharp gasp you let out with his mouth. You cup his face with both of your hands and close your eyes as you enjoy being fucked by the man you love. “You said you don’t know what you’re doing- Taeyong you feel good!” you were basically moaning the whole time you were telling him what you feel. He asks you to spread your legs even more so he can thrust deeper and so you followed gladly, and after a few thrusts, he hits your good spot perfectly.

“And I told you I’ll do my best right?” he smirks and continues to fuck you good, keeping your legs apart and sucking your boobs as he thrusts. He feels your walls warm walls around his cock then you asked him to put his thumb on your clit and the moment his cold fingers made contact on your clit, you tried to push him away because it made you sensitive and moan his name louder than before. You breathed heavily and accept every deep thrust Taeyong give you, every cold kiss, every sweet word that makes your heart swell. It was all overwhelming and all you can do is let go and cum.

Soon he released his cum in the condom and removed it immediately before he lay beside you in his small bed. You feel him kiss your forehead while he covers your sweaty and shivering bodies with his blanket and helped you come down from your high.

The next day, the sunlight from Taeyong’s window wakes him up and quickly blocked the sun with his hand so it won't hit your eyes too. You were sleeping soundly beside him, embracing his tiny waist unconsciously. “Good morning “ he whispered to you, covering your naked body with his blanket. “You have work” he reminded you sweetly and pulled you in a tight embrace.

“Let’s stay in bed, Taeyongie. Let’s skip work and make love the whole day” you kissed him good morning and closed your eyes again. You hear him giggle and feel his strong arms cage you and cradle you.

“As much as I want to do that, we can’t. Come on, I’ll cook breakfast, let’s start our day together”

“Are you getting rid of me?”  

“No, quite opposite actually. Let’s start this day early, so we could go to work and meet afterward. I’m excited to see you again” You smile a gave him a tight embrace, allowing yourself to be thankful just for a minute for this beautiful morning, and for the naked man beneath you who loves you so much.

Beautiful nights that involved making love with Taeyong or having rough sex, eventually, happened again and again and again until he’s confident in bed just as much as you are. You go to work sore and tired but your heart is happy all because of Taeyong. He may not be as innocent as before but the humble and loving Taeyong that you fell in love with is still here. It was a relationship that involved a lot of sexual activities but you and Taeyong loved each other dearly and prove it to each other every day.

“I hate going home” you whined and gave him a glass of water. Tonight is one of those nights where you and Taeyong enjoy the meal he cooks after a long day at work and you have dinner together in his small apartment.

“Then don’t, stay here with me it’s late,” he says as he drinks the water that you gave.

“Hmm. That’s not what I meant, ask me to live with you already”

“I cant my place is too small, I’ll marry you and I’ll buy us a nice home”

“Were not getting young” you teased him, “I’m perfectly fine with this place. You know I love it here, I sleep well whenever I stay over”

“That’s because of me not because of this place” he was talking about the sex and smirked.

“Okay fine- But seriously you don’t have to buy me a big house you’re enough” he pulled you closer to him and looked at your eyes. He remembers the big house that you and Taeil owned in your past life and he was planning to give you something like that and not this shoebox. But he sees that you’re happy so he finally lets you win.

“Okay. If this place makes you happy, fine. Welcome home” he kissed your knuckles softly but you attacked him with sweet kisses and ended up making out with your boyfriend on his cold floor with a happy heart.  

Living with Taeyong was a huge transition in your life but it was all for the better. You used to eat fast food every night but now you have Taeyong to cook you good food every day. Living together also made you know him more and know some things for yourself, like his love for sweet potatoes and that he can sing. He is incredibly affectionate when it comes to animals, may it be a stray cat or a dog it doesn’t matter he will take care of it. Living with Taeyong made your life easier and beautiful even though it’s all about the simplest things with him.

After you moved in with Taeyong, he found a job as a grade school art teacher which he loved doing so much and also pays good money. With that money, he saved a lot and bought you a house that’s big enough for the two of you. You let him shower you with love because that’s what he wants, in return you love him unconditionally. Soon, you introduced him to your family during the holidays, and Taeyong cooked for everyone which made him win their hearts especially your mom.

Seasons changed and so are the years, now you’re swaying under the soft music from the background on your sister’s wedding. Your arms are wrapped around his neck while his arms are wrapped around your waist as he whispers how beautiful you are tonight for the nth time but you never get tired of it. It’s not your wedding but you feel like it is because Taeyong can easily turn a second into a special moment.

Your sister’s wedding is a series of mixed emotions, one minute you’re crying because she’s not a baby anymore and by the next few hours you’re happy because she dropped the news that she’s pregnant already. “I saw your eyes when your sister told everyone she’s pregnant, how many kids do you want in the future?” he asks, continuously swaying your bodies while he waits for your answer.

“Ask me to marry you first” you boop his sharp nose and rest your head on his chest, “but let's have two kids,” you sighed and smiled at your wish and you hear your boyfriend hum in approval.  

The night ended beautifully and you’re happy to see that your sister is happily married now. You kissed and waved goodbye to your family and Taeyong did the same too. Oh, how you wish you and Taeyong will have a happy ending soon too.

But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for.

A week after your sister’s wedding Taeyong proposed to you and made you the happiest girl in the world. It was nothing glamorous like the ones you see in movies, no big crowds, and no big signs that says ‘Marry Me?’. No. It was just the two of you. In your car, where you two first met. It was snowing too which made it even more special and romantic. When he was putting the ring on your finger, he was shaking so bad like he was cold but he’s not he’s just nervous. It was a simple ring and it represents your relationship with him, the diamond was small but the ring itself is a promise of never ending happiness because you get to spend the rest of your life with this handsome man.

Suddenly life is full of dreams and promises to keep for your marriage, no morning or night has passed that you didn’t admire your engagement ring. Just like now while Taeyong is in the shower and you’re waiting for him to come to bed. “You smell good” you didn’t notice him slide under the covers and felt him sniff your exposed shoulders. You turned your head to him and see him shirtless while he leans on the bed frame. You rolled on your side and rest your head on his abs, while you admire his handsome features.

“I want kids with your nose, my eyes, and your good heart,” you said, looking directly in his eyes. “You can teach them how to draw or cook pancakes, we can read stories to them, sing a song, and dance around our living room?”

He felt his body warm in instant. With just your words he felt like he’s melting. “Your love melts me you know,” he reaches for your lips and kissed you good night. “We can do all that and more, I promise” he whispers.

Time passed by so fast after getting married to Taeyong. Life is even sweeter and worth living for. Even though married life is never easy, you and Taeyong managed to be happy every day. More seasons change and you and Taeyong have become busier with work that you only spend time with each other during mornings and before you go to bed. But of course, the baby making is a never ending try until that damn pregnancy test will come out positive. Trying to have a baby was harder than you thought. There are times that you’re losing hope but your husband makes everything better.

“Good morning Mrs. Lee”

After being married for two beautiful years now, some things have never changed like how Taeyong wakes you up early in the morning for work with his cold lips and handsome face. You stretch your body looked at your handsome husband, who’s shirtless and only wearing a pajama underneath this thick blanket. You couldn’t stop yourself to kiss him and position him on top of you. “I have kids to teach” he giggled but he kisses your chest just the way you like it.

“Want to try to make our own kid? We haven’t tried ever since the last result. This isn’t us” you teased him but you both know it’s because of your jobs and you understand each other.

“You know I can’t say no to that” he smirked and lifts your sleepwear, exposing your boobs to your husband. Sucking your nipples immediately and felt his cold tongue swirl around it while his hands were quick to remove your pajamas and underwear. He kneels in between your legs and lowered his sweatpants before he releases his hard cock from his boxer briefs. With his middle finger, he checked if your slit is wet and ready, “you’re always wet for me” he says and kissed you deeply as he thrusts inside you with one quick move that dragged your body on the mattress. It hurt a little because you weren’t prepped enough, but once Taeyong rolls his hips and starts kissing your neck you lose your mind and all you can do is focus on the pleasure that he’s giving.

His thrusts were quick, you figured he was horny and his grip on your waist will sure leave marks. “Ah-fuck” you moan out when his thumb started drawing circles on your clit to make sure you will cum because there’s no way you will leave your house without cumming this morning. “I’m cumming-“ he says and sucks your nipples while he thrust harshly and putting pressure on your clit.

Your husband gave you a piercing thrust as he shoots his cum inside you, making you yelp and almost hit the headboard but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of your own orgasm.

“Wow- our baby making is getting intense,” you said with heavy breaths and sharp gaps. You put your shoulder above your forehead and catch your breath for a minute before you go on and take a shower.

You don’t know but your husband wanted to tell you something but he doesn’t want to ruin the morning. He helps you wear your panties again and kiss your sensitive body while listening to your giggles that’s music to his ear. He loves you so much that he wanted so bad to give you a baby soon because he’s tired of seeing you disappointed whenever the pregnancy test is negative.

Every day you and Taeyong spend your mornings peaceful and quiet. You wrap your arms around him while he prepares you breakfast, enjoy the quietness of your house and the peaceful life that he has given to you. “Have I told you that I love you Tae? So much?” you smelled his still wet hair and tighten your embrace.

“Yes. Every day, I think I don’t say it as much as you do but, I love you too” He kissed your forehead and gave your lips a peck. And mornings like this happens every day and no one is complaining because you never get sick of it.

“What if we adopt instead of trying to make one?”

It’s not that he didn’t like the idea of adopting, but it hurt him because you must really want a baby by this time and he can’t give you one for unexplainable reasons. “Don’t you want to see your nose in our little one? Or my eyes?” he stopped doing what he’s doing for a second and turned around to meet your gaze. He swings his arms around your waist, leaned on the kitchen counter, and pressed you against his body. “Where did that idea come from- I’m not against it but-,”

“But you don’t want to do it either?”

“I wish I could answer all of our questions on why you can’t get pregnant. Let’s try a few more times, then if nothing happens let’s do it. I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not doing anything wrong. I think I’m just stressed with work,” you were just about to kiss your husband and end the conversation when the doorbell rang and you both wonder who might that be. Neither of you is expecting any visitor this early, that’s why it is a complete shock for Taeyong that Jaehyun visited him.

This must be important.

Since Taeyong needed to talk to his friend, you had to drive alone to work and drown with the things that you told your husband. I shouldn’t have said that, I completely hurt his feelings. Stupid. You said those things to yourself as you drive and arrive at your office safely. Then…

“Oh gosh. I’m sorry” a stranger bumped you so hard while you were walking towards your office. Completely bringing you back from reality. He was quick to apologize and his beautiful smile was hard to not notice. “I’m very sorry Miss. I’m Moon Taeil. I was reading some guidelines, I’m very new here and I can’t seem to find Mrs. Y/n Lee” he read it from the paper he was holding.

“You found me” you smiled and invited him to your office to talk about the work he has to finish.

While you were busy orienting Moon Taeil in your office Taeyong and Jaehyun had a serious conversation in your living room which made Taeyong very angry and frustrated. Turns ourtJaehyun is here to tell him that you and your soulmate will finally cross paths.

“That’s the thing when it comes to this soulmate thing hyung, we can’t stop it. Even me. It’s beyond what I’m capable of. I’m sorry, you just have to work harder and keep her away from him. Try and stop destiny” Jaehyun says, frustrated like his hyung too. Taeyong was quiet but he was thankful to Jaehyun for telling him.

“I’m starting to melt” Taeyong admitted to his friend. "I think I could last two more years"

“Make up your mind. Would you rather be selfish or let her be happy for the rest of her life?” Taeyong watched his friend leave after dropping a very hard question to answer. He can indeed feel his heart is slowly melting and the only way to save himself is to go back to being a spirit again.  

It was a very disturbing day for both of you. He was worried about you and Taeil meeting, you were worried about the things you said to him this morning. To make it up with your husband, you decided to surprise him and pick him up from the school he's teaching. You see parents hugging their children and hear them asking about their day and you can’t help but tear up a little because you want the same things too.

You wipe your tears when you see your handsome husband walking towards you and greet you with a kiss. “Adults go here to fetch their kids, but here you are fetching me” you both let out a giggle before going inside your car. Before you start apologizing, you gulped the lump on your throat and keep your eyes on the road.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I know I hurt you” you finally said.

“Hurt me a thousand more times, I’m still going to love you deeply. Everything is fine, I understand you’re desperate because I’m desperate too. But we both have different solutions to this problem that's why. Let’s talk about it at home,” he says, reaching your free hand and kissed your wedding ring. You love how he’s always right when it comes to things like this. He always knew what to do.

As usual, you and Taeyong fixed this baby situation and decided to try and try until you get pregnant. You have nothing against it but you don’t know how long you can hold on anymore. Nonetheless, you try and understand Taeyong’s feelings too and you don’t want to hurt him again. After having that conversation with your husband, he tried so hard to get you pregnant and initiate having sex almost every day. Exhausting but at the same time fun, you just let love and lust drive you and your husband to bed over and over again.

Like right now, you were so weak and you can’t feel your legs anymore, you don’t even have the energy to roll on your side and reach for your husband but he does it for you. “You okay?” he kisses your neck and caress your sensitive body softly, naked and still sweaty from sex.

“Can we go back to the time where you don’t know anything about sex?” it was a joke which both of you find funny. You return his embrace and let out a shiver when you felt his skin so cold like ice and he was sweating so hard… like he was melting, “are you sick? baby you’re so cold like ice” you were worried but your husband is smiling weakly at you with lustful eyes, clearly, he wanted another round. But little did you know Taeyong is not feeling well.

“Come here so you could keep me warm then,” he kissed you deeply on the lips and felt him spreading your legs again. Oh boy, you thought. You tried to push him but you’re too late, he made you horny too, and just like that you gave in already.

You and Taeyong continue to try to have a baby and have sex whenever you can. Until one day when you were busy cleaning the house, and you saw your pads on the drawers and realized that you’re late. Your period is finally late.  

“I’m home. Y/n?” Taeyong shouts as he enters your house, putting his shoes on the side. You greet him with a warm hug and a smile so big, inviting him to bed this instance. What better way to celebrate your pregnancy right?

You kiss him until you reach your shared bed and remove your clothes in front of him, intertwining your fingers with his and guiding him to touch your body. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he was enjoying it even though he doesn’t feel good. Taeyong quickly switched positions and removed his clothes from work before he goes in between your legs and kisses your body.

First, he licked your pussy good. Making your head turn and make you moan his name a little louder. You hear wet sounds as Taeyong licks you up and down and kiss your pussy like it’s your mouth. You were so wet that it turns you on even more and can’t wait for Taeyong to finally fuck you. When he felt your excitement, he quickly pumped his cock and slide it on your very wet folds just to watch you lose your mind beneath him.

He came in slowly, fucking you deep and careful because he was too weak right now but he can’t show you. After a few moments of heavy breathes and taking Taeyong's deep thrust, Taeyong fed his lust and looked how your cunt take all of him slowly and got excited to see blood coating his cock because loves period sex so much.  

“I love fucking you when you’re on your period-ah” he was moaning so good and fucking you at a quick pace now, nipping your earlobes and kneading your boobs. After a few dirty talks, he heard you sob and felt tears falling on your cheeks. He thought you were crying because of overstimulation so he smirked and gave your ass a light slap. When he pulls away from your neck to kiss you on the lips, he sees you crying while covering your mouth with your own hand.

Your husband stopped.

“Am I hurting you, what’s wrong?” you didn’t answer him.

He quickly pulled out and went to the bathroom to get a damped towel to clean the blood on your thighs and put a tampon inside you while you were crying. He kissed your shoulders and begged you to talk to him because he is clueless.

“I was excited because I thought my period is late just a few minutes before you get home. Then it fucking came” it was a very harsh move for fate to give you false hope and hurt your feelings like that. Taeyong didn’t know what to do when you asked him to leave you alone for tonight.

He needed you too because he’s sick right now but he can’t tell you.

And that is where your marriage failed.

Taeyong was desperate to keep you while you were desperate to have a child. You two started to fight, and you can see that things are slowly changing now. You were cold towards him because you don’t know what else to do to have a kid. You have sex, take a test, negative, have sex again, take the test again, and have the same results over and over again.  

You hope that it’s easier than ‘you don’t love him anymore’ but it’s not, you love each other so much but this baby problem is ruining your marriage and you can’t fix it because you don’t know what’s wrong, even the doctors said you’re both fine and you just have to try and try but its getting tiring already.

“I don’t know what else to do” Taeyong admits after you take another test just a few minutes ago and he sees you crying. He can’t take it. He never saw you cry when you were married to Taeil.

“Do you want to give up? Because I’m getting tired, baby” you hug him so tight and cried on his shoulders, “we fight, we don’t sleep peacefully now, and we're not happy. This is not us” you cry out and tighten your embrace to your husband. You forgot how his presence comforts a lot.

“Okay, let's stop. I’m sorry. I really am”

“I’m sorry too”

Taeyong realized what he was doing all this time. If he didn’t steal you from Taeil you wouldn’t suffer like this because he is not the right man for you. Love is cruel, Taeyong thought. No matter how much you love each other, no matter how much he loves you, fate won’t consider it and will find a way to ruin your chance of being happy.

He puts you to sleep and went out to meet his friends and tell them that he’s slowly dying. You were so focused on yourself and didn’t notice that Taeyong is getting thin and his hair is slowly turning white. You thought it’s just him being stressed with everything that’s happening right now but it’s more than that.

“Well, you can’t die. It’s simple as that. You’re more than Taeyong, you have an obligation in this world as the spirit of winter” Doyoung was beyond pissed upon hearing the news. "We told you from the very start that this is not a good idea" he added.

“We have no choice but to let her and Taeil have their happy ending. But how she loves you so much” Jaehyun says with worried eyes because they know that Taeyong is going through so much.

“I’ll Divorce her, with all the strength I have left ” Taeyong says weakly, tears in his eyes started to ball.

“All for the better hyung, you can save your life and she can be happy” Doyoung pat his back and told him to do it immediately because he doesn’t have much time.

After a week, Jaehyun helped Taeyong with the process of divorce and will make everything official once you sign the papers.

And just as you thought that life couldn’t get any more brutal, your husband is handing you the divorce papers before you start your car and drive you both home. You never thought that this damn car will witness everything. How you and Taeyong met for the first time, the night he asked you to marry him, and now that he’s completely giving up on your marriage. Taeyong watched you cry while you’re driving quietly and wonder what’s on your mind. Do you hate me? He remained silent the whole time until you reach home.

You look at the envelope in front of you while Taeyong is on the other side of the kitchen with you, waiting for your thoughts. “If this is about me wanting to have a baby- Taeyong I don’t want it anymore just please” you were begging him in the middle of your kitchen, tears started falling and you can’t believe that this is happening. He came closer to you, cupped your cheeks, and kissed your forehead because he can’t see you like this, “We’ve been through so much Tae, you can’t do this to me”

“But I can’t make you happy anymore, someone will fill in my shoes” he kept you close and savor the feeling of your hug that will last for a lifetime.

“To hell with happiness- I’m sorry I was selfish, I was only thinking of myself” you cry some more and stain his dress shirt with your tears.

“I was the one who became selfish in the first place, not you,” you don’t know what he was saying but you don’t care anymore, all you want to do is never let him go.

But he was the one who let you go and you couldn’t get a hold of him no matter how much you beg. It was more than heartbreaking. When Taeyong left you, the house he bought you was never home without him, he didn’t even take anything with him, not even his clothes. The only thing he got for himself is his wedding ring which he will wear forever.

“Welcome back,” Doyoung says but neither of them is happy about the divorce. Taeyong felt strong and healthy now that he’s a spirit again but his heart is dead, he doesn’t feel alive anymore. It’s been weeks since he left you, and since it’s not winter, he’s not allowed to be around. Perfect, he thought. He needed the time to move on and heal alone.

Who knows? Maybe he'll try again in your next life.  

To whoever read this, i hope you live a happy life a simple life and you’re happy genuinely. 

[fruitcoops]

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “—as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

------------------------

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

[matildashoney]

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 // 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ~ 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ~ 𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 ~ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @doubtfulwelshie, @meetmymouth, @theluketomypatterson, @morethanamelodyy, @hoodhoran, @nevertoooldtodancelikeamaniac, @rainbowparadiseharry, @glitterandharry, @summertimestyles, @millenial-teenybopper, @6616617228, @burberryharold​, @jesusidontcare1​

.・゜゜・ Harry  .・゜゜・　

Step left. Duck. Step right. Punch.

Step left. Block. Step right. Go for the gold.

The freedom of releasing bottled up anger loomed over Harry’s head, stimulating his need to showcase his overt power. Punch after punch after punch, delivered to his opponent's body and face, fueling the anguish he felt in his veins and the fury in his brain. 

“Okay! Harry, that’s enough!” a voice calls, but, naturally, Harry doesn’t listen. His ears are ringing, deafening anything outside of his own mind. Not that he can hear his own thoughts anyway as he blows hit after hit at Ryan, imagining it’s someone else he’s beating up instead.

His heart is racing as fast as his mind is swirling, his breaths shortening as his arms continue their relentless action on Dear Ryan, who can do nothing but just take it. “Harry!”

Then, there was the numbness. He felt arms tug him back forcefully, landing Harry right on his ass as he came to, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. Harry blinked once, then twice, then three times before taking a look around him. Mack, his trainer, was standing over him, a look of anger mixed with concern etched over his features as he gestured to the man laying flat on his back, spitting blood out of his mouth.

Only for a moment, remorse coursed through Harry’s body, because the last he remembered, they were both standing. It wasn’t the first time he’s lost control of his rage, and he was sorry that Ryan had to deal with the consequences of that, but at the same time, Harry didn’t give a single shit because it was Ryan’s job to play punching bag. 

“Do you wanna explain this?” Mack questions, helping Ryan up so he can go take a breather and get a look at his nose from the doctor. “Fuck, Harry, any more and you could’ve done serious damage to the poor kid.”

Harry hoisted himself up, rolling his eyes as he tugged his gloves off his hands. “Do you want me to win tonight? I sort of need to punch the shit out of people to do that.”

Mack stares at Harry with a cross look before scoffing, shaking his head as he places his hands on his hips, looking down to his feet. “Look, you need to get over her, H. All your focus is on Stella, but I need your focus on your job. That’s the most important thing.”

Technically if he’s focused on Stella, he’s better at his job, but Harry didn’t have the energy to start a fight over something ridiculous. Instead, Harry opted for a poisonous glare and bit his bottom lip to hold back any venom he easily could’ve spit out, walking past his trainer and making sure to bump shoulders along the way.

Mack has always been anti-relationships. 

Mack advised it from the start, when Harry signed up for his gym and kick started his career in boxing. “No dating. It’s not forbidden, but trust me, Harry, you don’t need them on your mind when you’re in the ring.” Harry never had to worry about that before, because dating wasn’t really his thing to begin with.

Until her. Until Stella. 

Harry decided he was done for the day, needing to rest up until his match that night. Not that he’d be resting much anyway, but he needed to get out of the gym for a bit, needed to clear his head.

Grey steel doors to the men’s locker room are no match for Harry’s unhinged anger, banging loudly against the wall behind it as they were forcefully swung open with a push from his hand. The few men in there jumped back a bit, heads immediately turning to the cause of disturbance.

Harry paid them no mind as he walked over to his locker, opening the lock and then swinging that door open too, causing it to bang into the one next to it. Despite the anger he released back in the ring, he still had enough resonating in his veins as he thought of her and as he thought of him. But immediately, as he glanced at the door of his locker, all anger dissipated for a couple fleeting moments as he stared at the filmstrip taped to the metal, the smile on her face, the smile on his face. All was better then. All was better when she was by his side. 

His Stella. Stella for star.

Sitting down on the bench behind him, Harry ran his battered hands over his face and then through his hair as he tried to stop thinking of her. But then the image of her smile taunted him, enticed him, tricked him into giving her another moment of his time. The pain in his chest and the pain in his head grew stronger as his thoughts spiraled, bringing up memories he tried so hard to push to the back of his head. 

Even when he was in the ring, thinking of his match later on, Harry couldn’t stop from thinking about her. He couldn’t stop his heart from sinking into his stomach at the thought of her face not being in the crowd cheering him on. He couldn’t bear it, knowing his Lucky Star wasn’t going to be there for him. 

That’s when all shades of red began swarming his sight, because she wouldn’t be front row, but instead with that fucking character she calls a duet partner. Then Ryan’s face morphed into his. Harry couldn’t stop himself. 

Shit, how he wished he could get his hands on that jackass. 

Harry nearly broke the wood holding him up from how tight his grip was on it, but, then one glance at her and his strength fell apart. 

And so did Harry’s mind.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at her picture on his locker door, but when he finally gained back his grip on reality, he grabbed his gym bag and closed the metal, hurrying out of the stuffy room to get home. He ignored Mack’s lingering gaze, keeping his own eyes straight ahead as he stormed out of the building. 

Just when Harry thought he could catch a breath, a break, the warm weather outside touched his skin, nearly melting him to the ground.

Harry hated the heat. He much preferred the winter time because it always leveled his hot head, and the sweltering air mixed with his boiling rage never mixed well. Now, Harry was in an even sourer mood. Though, it slightly picked up when he realized the time on his phone.

Crossing the street, Harry began his walk in the opposite direction of home, quickening his pace so as to not miss her. He absolutely dreaded not taking his car to the gym that day. He dreaded it not only for the sweat dripping down his body, but because he had to pass a certain establishment on the shortest route to the studio.

Lucky’s Bar.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry had a bit of a habit of stopping time whenever he walked into a room. Or at least it felt like he did because despite the loud, rowdy music blaring through the tight bar, and everyone being focused on themselves and who they were with, all heads immediately turned to him when he stepped through the entrance of Lucky’s. 

“That never gets old,” Niall nudged Harry in the side, chuckling as people began to whisper to one another, sly-but-not-so-sly fingers pointing in their direction.

It wasn’t always this way. They really only started looking at him after news spread rapidly around campus about his new ... job. Otherwise, no one ever paid enough attention to notice he was in the same room. At first it was strange knowing people were watching his every move, but after a while, he stopped caring. 

One thing he learned over the past few months, is that not caring goes a long way.

Harry sat on the bar stool next to Niall, a bored look on his face as the bartender looked a bit starstruck because of who was sitting in front of her. “Two beers please. Bottled,” Niall requested, turning his attention back to his friend. “So, when’s your next match?” he wondered, mindlessly checking his phone as he waited for his girlfriend to text him of her arrival.

Harry thought about it for a second, not even remembering what day of the week it was. “Next Friday, I think. I don’t know, I’ll text you,” Harry shrugged, graciously taking the drink the bartender sat next to him, nodding his head in appreciation before taking his first swig.

They sat idly for some time, not wanting to join the masses standing on the dance floor. They could practically feel the humidity and sweat from the bar. Many girls tried coming over and flirting their ways into getting free drinks, but neither of the boys even blinked in their direction as they laughed over mindless nonsense and awaited Niall’s girlfriend’s arrival. 

And Niall’s girlfriend’s friend’s arrival.

A friend that was apparently a very good, a great match for Harry. Usually, Harry denied any setups Niall tried to throw his way, but this time the bloke wouldn’t take no for an answer. Apparently, Niall had a big feeling this one was going to be someone incredibly special.

Then that familiar text tone sounded, alerting them the girls had arrived, but they didn’t need the text to know that. Because - at least to Harry and Niall - time had stopped once again, but not because of Harry, but because of Libby and her friend.

Not that anyone else cared, but the two girls lit up the entire place. Their energy radiated a glow that was unmatched to anyone else in the room, leaving Niall and Harry in awe. Of course, they turned the heads of jerk offs that whistled when they walked by, but their eyes were set on the boys waiting for them.

“Hi, baby,” Libby greeted, quickly kissing Niall on the lips before giving Harry a soft smile and kissing him on the cheek.

The other girl greeted Niall just as happily - minus the kiss on the lips, opting for a hug instead. Her curly hair sat behind her in a low ponytail, a few front strands hanging loosely over her face. 

Then, her eyes met Harry’s.

Ever since she walked into Lucky’s, Harry had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, and now that she was up close and personal, he took the time to really admire her features, her figure, her long legs that seemed to go on for miles.

Before she could introduce herself, Niall clapped Harry on the shoulder, waving his other hand between the two, “Harry, meet Stella.”

Much to his surprise, Stella leaned in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a warm greeting that he never usually received when meeting a girl. Usually, Harry was met with a bat of fake eyelashes and fingers tracing his biceps. 

She stepped back after a few moments, a kind smile stretched over her lips. “You must be the boxer.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry stands in front of the bar for a moment, thinking back to all the times he sat on the wooden stools with his girl and their friends and drank to celebrate the winning of another match. Of course, yeah, he’s been back since then, and he’s been back with his friends since then, but it’s not the same without his hand intertwined with hers and the feeling that he had when walking in with her tucked under his arm. Harry used to soak in the stares and the jealous whispers of other men and women when they walked in together, to know that he was the luckiest man alive, in those moments. His Stella, his Lucky Star, at his side, and yet he was the lucky one. 

Harry knew Stella liked the attention a little bit, too, as much as she hated to admit it. Stella liked knowing that her man was the champion, the star, the winner. Stella liked seeing Harry win. That’s why she was at every match, every single one. 

That feels like a lifetime ago, and it was barely a year ago. One year ago, when Harry royally fucked himself over with her and his world flipped upside down.

.・゜゜・ Stella  .・゜゜・

Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso.

That’s what Stella Smalls is going to do over and over until she can get it perfect. Until there’s not a hiccup or a side step or a misplaced toe or fingertip in sight, completing the perfect combination from her fingertips to her toes. That’s what Stella has to do, to be known as one of the best dancers in the world.

“God damnit,” she grumbles, wiping the sweat on her forehead on her hand and brushing her bangs away from her skin, heaving out a heavy breath and leaning over her knees, taking a minute to catch her breath. Her legs ache with how much she’s been practicing, and she’s happy to have the night off. 

“Come on, Stella,” she says to herself, psyching herself into repeating the combination a few times more. “Come on. This isn’t child’s play. This is the biggest competition you’ll ever do.”

Her words seemingly do the trick, the ache in her thighs and feet suddenly disappearing and fading into the background of her mind, her only focus going to the specific point in this song where this combination would play out to the perfect rhythm if she does it correctly. Her favorite song is playing over the speakers, the building bridge and chorus resounding through the mirror-lined studio, waiting for her to try and try again. Her song choice is making it all the more difficult to focus, especially with knowing who is across the street, and how much this song is about him, as well. 

It wasn’t their song, for the short two years they were together, that was something else, something a bit too hard to touch. Their song, “Undeniable You”, the song they danced to at two in the morning in her tiny kitchen and the song they played in the car on their way to the gym and the studio and the song they played when they were making love into the early hours of the night. That was their song and it was untouchable, their song that she truly couldn't use as her competition piece for the World Title.

Stella hadn’t originally wanted to do the song that she’s currently dancing to. That wasn’t her intention, especially not fresh after their parting ways and it was raw, so raw. However, when her instructor heard the song and was approving the World Title submission under her studio’s name, she suggested that she channel her emotions that she was feeling towards the song into choreography. Stella was competing for a world title under her studio’s name. Could she really say no? 

Nearly a year later, with the competition only three months away, River Daniels and Stella Smalls are practicing their duet for the world title to a song that she once associated with a man she was in love with, is in love with.

“Love,” Angie calls through the studio, walking into the quaint room with light bamboo flooring and three long barres hooked onto the walls amongst the mirrors, staring at the young girl with concern etched into her features, “maybe you should take a break. You’ve been here since eight, this morning.”

“What time is it, now? Have somewhere to be around three.” Stella wonders curiously, oblivious to how long she’s been at the studio and been working. Muscles ache inside her body, her feet crying out for a breather, and yet she keeps pushing, keeps forcing herself to repeat the combination until she finds it perfectly aligned with the rhythm of the song.

“It’s nearly two, Stella,” Angie says assuredly, sounding nearly disappointed in the way Stella has been pushing herself since she found out who her competition was for the title, and the stakes that are at large, waiting for her.

Should they win, Stella and River will go on a world tour with nearly a dozen other dancers, doing master classes and teaching young dancers the way to the title, and the money that would be split between the two of them would allow for her to finally open her own studio in town.

There’s this empty building that she has been eyeing for nearly five years, dreaming that one day it would be the studio of her dreams. There is space for three different rooms, three studios within one, and there are a multitude of opportunities waiting for her in this space if she just had the money. “The Lucky Star Academy”, she would name it, after the one that always told her that she would be the best studio owner in town. He wasn’t that clever for giving her the name.

Stella’s name does mean “star”, after all. 

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry’s knuckles were all bloodied and cut, the skin tearing and ripping at the base of his hand after rubbing against his gloves after he stupidly forgot to wrap his hands before the match. Typically, Stella reminds him, but today, she was in her head, worrying about the bank’s call and the meeting she had with the loan advisor and the conversation she had with her mother regarding how much she would offer as a loan until her business started and took off like everyone knew - or had a feeling - it would, and Harry was worried about comforting his girlfriend, to the point where they had to call him out of the locker room to make sure he was ready for the match. Stella was worried that he would lose the match because of how much worrying he was doing for her, but of course, Harry being Harry, won within the first ten minutes in the ring.

“Stell, the bank is going to approve you,” Harry said too surely for Stella’s liking when they were back in the locker room, cleaning his knuckles. “If not, like I said, I could give you the money. It’s not a big deal.” Stella glares at Harry for that secondary comment. “Okay, it’s a big deal, but I can loan you the money, Lovey. I’m not hoarding all this to myself. Makes sense to share it with the ones I love, does it not?”

“It does, but I don’t want to start my business by owing you money, Harry,” Stella says frustratedly, wiping the blood from his hands and kissing the skin of his knuckles sweetly. Stella was always the most gentle soul with Harry, even when he didn’t necessarily deserve it, and he cherished the way she loves him, the way she cares. “My studio can’t start that way. It’s just, I can’t.”

“Name it after what I call you, at least. Let me contribute the name, Stella Bella.” Harry grins so widely Stella can feel her heart giving out and falling into his hands, like it always does. “My Lucky Star. Maybe you’ll be somebody else’s, too. Mine first, always, though.”

“First and foremost,” she says, shaking her head at the nickname, one of many of what her boyfriend has called her over the years, and sighs deeply, laying the flannel on the sink beside her and letting his hands fall to her waist, holding her between his legs and kissing her shoulder, “you’ll always have me as your lucky star, the one and only.” Harry’s dimpled grin makes her stomach flutter with butterflies. “Secondly, ‘The Lucky Star Academy’, I like the sound of that.” Harry smiles wider, this time, leaning upwards and kissing her jaw. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Very nice ring to it,” Harry agrees, brushing her hair behind her ear and holding her chin between his fingertips, kissing her sweetly, deeply, smirking when she pushes his shoulder lightly and takes a step away. “Come on, lovey. One more kiss before you leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she says matter-of-factly, shaking her head and nodding towards where the door is swinging open with men walking in and out. “I’m leaving the room for you to get changed, you stink.”

“Come shower with me,” he whispers, standing on his feet and bringing her into his chest, the clamminess of his skin sticking to her fingertips as she lays her hands against his abdomen. “Not like any of these blokes actually shower here, anyways.”

“Girl in a locker room disappears into the showers and Harry Styles is nowhere to be seen,” Stella scoffs, shaking her head adamantly and brushing his hair away from his forehead, the floppy tendrils of his hair falling to his sweaty skin. “Very likely that everyone will know what’s happening.”

“Stella Smalls,” Harry says warningly, clicking his tongue and grabbing her face between his hands, “don’t ever call yourself just a girl, ever again. Hear me? Much more than a girl to me.”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, pecking his lips quickly and walking towards the locker, grabbing all his belongings and shoving the clothes that need to be washed in the tote bag he brings to every match. “Go shower, I’m tired and want to go home.”

“I’ll shower faster if my Lucky Star comes with me,” Harry teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and walking towards the showers in the corner of the locker room. “Come on, Stell. One time.” Stella sighs, looking between the phone, where she is impatiently waiting for a phone call, her belongings, and her sweaty boyfriend standing all too enticingly at the edge of the tile flooring. Stella begrudgingly sets their things in the locker, oblivious to the buzzing that’s vibrating from her phone, and hurries to Harry across the locker room floor, smirking as he says, “That’s my girl. My Stella.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Knocking on the studio door pulls Stella out of her trance, again, the song playing over and over again in her head with tears in her eyes as she forces a smile to the familiar man in the window. River is standing at the glass window, watching his partner perfect the leap combination for their routine without saying a word. Her knees are bruised and tainted a purplish-blue color that looks like it hurts like hell, and River silently reminds himself to schedule a day to practice even more to be on her level of dedication. River smiles at Stella softly, opening his arms and bringing her in close, hugging her tightly and humming contently as her arms tighten around his midsection and return the embrace.

“Looks great, Stella,” River smiles excitedly, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead and taking a step away, looking at her face and taking in the distracted glances she’s making towards the window to the outside. “Harry’s coming, isn’t he? Walks you home from the gym and all that.”

“Always on Saturdays,” Stella says shyly, almost slightly embarrassed by how much she looks forward to the weekly walk with her best friend, which happens to also be her ex-boyfriend, the person she’s choreographing this routine about. “It’s our only time to really talk, you know? Alone, at least. He’s so busy during the week, I’m busy teaching. It’s not going to distract me, River, I promise.”

“You say that, Stella,” he says concernedly, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, shrugging his shoulders slightly at the thought of the two getting back together when he’s started to develop feelings for her beyond their partnership and friendship. “There’s already chemistry there, though. That’s hard to deny when you see the way he looks at you, the way he looks at me when I’m with you. Like he wants me removed from the planet or something.”

Stella knows that Harry wants River removed from her life, completely. He doesn’t need to say anything for that to be abundantly clear. That doesn’t mean she’ll say that, though. “Oh, c’mon, Riv, it’s not that bad. He’s not that cruel.”

“If Harry knew that I liked you in any capacity, which is not me saying that I do,” River says with his hands held in the air in surrender, “I would be pummeled into bits. You know it as well as I do, Stella.” River says this surely, quirking his eyebrows at his friend and cocking his head to the side knowingly, shrugging his shoulders when she crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively and sighs. “Not your fault he’s protective of you, Stella. It’s not your fault he’s in love with you.”

“Harry isn’t in love with me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” River shrugs his shoulders, “Hell, what do I know, though?” He takes Stella’s hand and twirls her beneath his arm, smiling brightly when she laughs and falls into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Practice tomorrow?”

“Of course, yeah,” she says with a bright smile, leaning onto her toes and kissing his cheek, her eyes rolling slightly when she sees her ex-boyfriend nearly foaming at the mouth outside the studio at the sight. Harry tries to hide it, Stella knows this, and that’s why she never says anything when she sees his facial expressions change or the way his hands clenched into fists when he sees River with his hand on Stella’s back as they leave the studio. “Come to the fight, tonight. It’ll be fun to have everyone there. This is his last match before the International Rounds.” River nods silently and opens the door for Stella to walk through, Harry immediately grabs her hand and pulls her into a warm hug. “Hi, Harry.”

.・゜゜・Harry  .・゜゜・

With old memories rehashing in his mind - which brought him the most happiness he’s felt in a while - Harry for fucking sure wasn’t expecting to see that slime-ball hugging his girl, replacing those memories with the anger he thought he suppressed, for now, at least.

Harry knew his face contorted into a deep scowl, burning red as he saw the interaction happening before him, and he couldn’t help his knuckles turning white from his fists clenching insanely tight. He knew how furious he looked. Hell, he knew how crazy he looked, but that didn’t stop him from tugging her away from her partner the moment they walked outside. 

Harry wraps his arms around Stella’s shoulders, pulling her close to him, but keeping his eyes on River. “Hi, Harry,” she murmured into his chest, before she pulled herself away and looked up at him. For the first time in those fifteen seconds, he diverted his attention away from him and looked at his girl, a smirk lining his features. 

“Hello, lovey.” And, spitefully - arguably, without a single care - he leans down and places his own kiss to her opposite cheek. As soon as Harry stood back up to his full height, he could see in Stella’s eyes that she was pleading for him to not cause a scene. He decided to respect her wishes, this time, but that didn’t stop the threatening glare he sent River’s way. “C’mon, let’s get you home. Think I can take a nap there?”

Stella looked over her shoulder at her dance partner, giving him an apologetic look. She knew he wasn’t nearly as scared of Harry, as Harry would like to think, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. River waved her off unapologetically, saying, “I’ll see you, tonight.”

Harry’s head quickly snapped to look at Stella, eyes widening and mouth falling agape from his words. He, too, looked over his shoulder, then, just to see the man getting in his car and then speeding off down the road. Harry was confused. He was baffled. And of course, he was angry. 

What does that mean?

As far as Harry knows, they see each other for practice during the week, for tech rehearsals, and for the performances, but never for anything else. Stella and River were only dance partners, not friends. That’s right, isn’t it? 

That’s when his greatest fear started coming to life. The realization hit. Harry could lose Stella, for good.

Harry stopped in his tracks, no matter how badly he wanted to get out from under the blazing sun. Stella stopped, too, confused as to why he was just standing there. “What’s wrong?”

The real question was: What isn’t wrong?

“What did he mean by that?” Harry hissed, bringing his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down harshly on it, but surprisingly, not drawing any blood. Harry knows that they aren’t officially together, and no matter how much, how badly that eats him alive, he knows that she has free reign to be with whoever she wants. Stella’s his Lucky Star, though, and, truth be told, he doesn’t think he can ever be without her in some capacity, for as long as he’s still breathing, as long as he’s on this planet. And, truthfully, it pains him to think that she would want to be with anyone that isn’t him. 

Sometimes, Harry wonders if she feels the same way.

“By what?” she asked by raising her eyebrows, confused as to what he was talking about. Then, seeing Harry biting on his lip with an excruciating grip, seeing the anger bubble back inside of him, Stella put two and two together, and figured out that he was talking about what her partner had said. “Oh, seeing me tonight? Oh my God, Harry.” Stella started laughing at this, beginning her walk, again, to her apartment. 

Harry was stunned for a quick moment before he followed after her, falling into step with her. He kept his eyes locked on her, watching her shake her head and and keep her eyes trained on her squeaky clean, white shoes. “What?”

“He’s coming to the fight.”

Harry was tempted to stop walking, again, but knew she wouldn’t stop this time, and would probably leave him behind. “No, he isn’t,” Harry responded, completely dumbfounded to the idea of Stella bringing up his fight, and then going the extra mile to invite her dance partner to it. He didn’t understand why she would even think of doing that, because she knows he doesn’t like him. It’s almost as if she enjoys making Harry angry - which could be the only possible explanation for why she invited him.

Stella looked up at him, tilting her head to the side, “Excuse me?”

“He’s not coming to my fight,” Harry scoffed, pressing the button on the crosswalk, waiting for the signal to keep walking.

“Are you being serious right now?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, turning to face him completely as they stood on the corner. Deep down, Stella knew Harry was being serious, but didn’t quite want to believe it. Harry’s always had this possessive hold on her, ever since they started dating. Honestly, when they were together, it was cute, it was funny, even, it stemmed from the love he had for her. Now, though, it’s infuriating, it’s toxic, and it’s painful. 

It’s also kind of sad.

After Stella, Harry closed himself off to the world again. He sticks to his same few friends. He doesn’t date. He continues to revolve his world around Stella. Constantly. Stella’s trying to grow, and move on, but he makes it impossible for her, because, truthfully, Harry has no one else. It’s sad, but it’s also insanely frustrating. “First of all, it’s a public event, so technically, River’s more than welcome to be there. Secondly, I’m not your girlfriend, H. I haven’t been your girlfriend for over a year. And Harry, you need to get that through your head, because I’m tired of telling you.”

Clicking of the cross-walk sign began, signaling it was time to start walking, again, which Stella happily did as Harry once again found himself stuck in place. This wasn’t how he imagined his day to go, and he certainly didn’t want to keep talking on the topic, but he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like a vicious cycle of trying to prove that she still wants him in some capacity, that she would choose him over someone else, even though she’s proven time and time again that she doesn’t, that she wouldn’t. Stella is over Harry, and Harry refuses to accept that.

Harry allowed a few moments of silence between them, a comfortable silence as they walked on towards her apartment, letting her think she had gotten the better end of the argument. Then, Harry continued. “Has he got a ticket?”

Stella sighed, “What?”

“For the fight. Did he buy a ticket? Or are you gonna use my name to get him in?” Harry’s association is the way she and any of his friends ever get in without paying. Tickets always sell insanely fast, near instantaneously, so Harry doubts River actually has one to get in. He knows Stella is going to get him in, and Harry’s lucky to have the upper-hand in the situation, because he can easily make it where there’s a specific guest-list - one that doesn’t have him on it. “I’ll tell the guard to blacklist him, Stell. He’s not coming.”

Stella rolled her lips into her mouth, fighting off the urge to spit venom that could put a wrench into whatever this relationship of theirs was. She didn’t want to continue moving backwards, but Harry made it really, very difficult to push forward. Stella shrugged, keeping her eyes ahead of her, “Fine, then neither am I.”

Stella only ever went to his fights because Harry asked her to, not because she had any actual desire to be there. Having to watch her once-boyfriend get punched in the face was never a sight she could fully stomach, and if his unwillingness to see her friend was this strong, then it only gave her motive not to go. 

Harry opened the door to her apartment building once she put the code in, allowing her to enter first. Quite frankly, he doesn’t care if she doesn’t want him to follow, because he does anyway. The idea of Stella not being there for his fight deepens the pit in the bottom of his stomach, and thickens his fear of losing her. 

It’s like this: when Stella is there, Harry knows he’s gonna win, when Stella’s not there, that familiar feeling isn’t in Harry’s gut, and all he feels is uncertainty. Harry can feel the victory gliding through his veins when he steps into the ring, seeing her front row, clapping and whistling and rooting for him.  Calling her his Lucky Star started off as an inside joke, simply because of the meaning of her name and where they first met. After she started coming to his fights, though, Lucky Star became quite literal, and he can’t go without her. 

“Of course you are. I need you there.”

And when they finally got to her front door, Stella inserted her key and unlocked it, but didn’t enter right away, confusing Harry. Stella stood there, facing him, his hand on the door nearly blockading her against the small wooden door, a small smile on her lips. “Okay. Then, River comes. He goes, I go.”

Harry and Stella held a staring contest for what felt like minutes, neither of them willing to back down - both, with the eye contact and the argument that hangs over them like a dark, miserable cloud. Finally, Harry sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head so his chin hit against his chest. He was in no position to keep fighting her, especially if continuing meant jeopardizing her attendance, tonight, in particular.

His favorite smile, a full smile broke out onto Stella’s face, and she couldn’t help reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. Twisting the golden doorknob, she allowed them both into her home. “Did you still wanna take that nap?”

Harry rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shrugging off his tee shirt before the door could even fully shut. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Fifteen minutes until showtime. Fifteen minutes and Stella still wasn’t there.

Harry left her with plenty of time to get ready and to get her friend to come with her. He left her apartment nearly thirty minutes before they had to be at the gym, giving her enough time to get dressed - she was never one for makeup, if she wasn’t on stage - and make her way to the gym long before the match would start. Stella should be here, by now. She’s always early.

Harry was nervous, but not because of his fight - because there was no sign of Stella. Mack has tried to get his mind off of her, but he was basically talking to a wall as Harry kept pacing around the  locker room, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“She’ll be here, H,” Libby tried reassuring him again, but like Mack, she was ignored. After Harry left Stella’s apartment around four, that was the last time he saw or heard from her. Usually, she would send him a text that she’s on her way, but he’s received nothing. The only reason Harry could think of why this is happening, is because of that prick of a dance partner. Harry always drove Stella himself, before their separation, and afterwards, she always sent a text when she was coming. 

Now, the one time River decides to tag-along, there’s no word from her. If Harry didn’t hate him already, he certainly does now.

Niall offered Harry a beer, which he greatly accepted, gulping it down in seconds before crushing the metal of the can in his palm. Then, the locker room door swung open, and a frenzied Stella walked in with a sheepish look on her face.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, there was a crowd outside that was impossible to get through,” Stella rushed out, coming straight over to Harry and engulfing him in a hug, knowing he must’ve been worried, ignoring the concerned looks on their friends’ and her friend’s faces. Stella was cutting it close to when Harry had to get out there, and she just blamed it entirely on the traffic and drunk crowd of old men, and she knew that wasn’t going to stick with Harry.

“Great! Stella’s here, now. Can you fucking sit down?” Mack hissed, rubbing his temples as he could feel his headache fading away. Stella shyly pulled away from Harry, ignoring Mack’s hardened stare, and made her way over to her friends, greeting them in her usual manner before snagging her own beer from the cooler; and when she pulled out another, that’s when Harry realized the leech that was in the room, too.

Taking a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, Harry did all he could to ignore River’s existence. He had to remain civil for Stella’s sake. That was the condition of her being there, after all.

“Stell, you didn’t text me,” Harry spoke up, gaining back her attention. 

Stella looked at him with a furrow in her brow before patting her jean pockets and then reaching into her small purse hanging off her arm. “Shit, I forgot my phone back at my place. I’m sorry,” she apologized, only then realizing that she completely forgot her phone and, therefore, forgot to text Harry and confirm her appearance, like she usually did. Stella stepped closer to Harry, lowering her voice so that only he could hear. “I told you I was gonna be here, though.”

Harry looked down at his shoes, biting his lip, biting back his words. Harry wanted to tell Stella he was nervous that she wasn’t gonna show, wanted to tell her that he was worried, wanted to tell her so much. Instead, Harry reached over to the bench where his duffle bag was, pulling out his gloves and offering them to her. “Can you put my gloves on for me?”

It was a bit of a tradition for Stella to put Harry’s gloves on his hands. As if her being there wasn’t enough luck, this action was also a tiny good luck token that Harry always needed before he went out. Stella hesitated for a brief second, not knowing if this was actually a good thing. There was essentially no harm in it, but knowing his reasoning - that it was for good luck, she is his good luck - kind of felt like a punch to her gut. Of course, though, she reached for them anyway, slipping one and then the other on his fists before tightening the straps and knocking the fists together. 

“Good luck, H,” she murmured, giving his right and left fist a little kiss, before dropping his hands all together. 

The little kiss sent a shock through Harry’s spine, because that was something she never did before. A wide smirk formed on his lips, his nerves completely vanishing as confidence swarmed his veins. He stood back up to his full height, saying, “Don’t need it now that you’re here,” just loud enough for her friend to hear on the other side of the room.

“Alright, let’s go!” Mack shouts from the locker room door, holding out Harry’s robe and guard for his mouth.

Harry’s black robe was slipped over his frame as they all walked out of the locker room and into the hall. The bass-driven music was pounding throughout the venue, eliciting a roar from the crowd, because the fun was about to begin. The announcer could be heard, hyping up the audience as he waited for the cue that opponents arrived to their positions. 

Niall, Libby, Stella, and River separated from Harry and Mack, making their way towards their reserved seats in the front row. Harry was barely paying attention to whatever Mack was telling him, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck as they waited.

Then his name was called. And everything became a blur.

The crowd erupted, he walked to the ring, Mack put his mouth guard in for him, and then the familiar bell of the match sounded. His opponent was no bigger than he was, which was good for him because it called for an easy win. The guy managed to get a few good moves in, delivering a hard right hook straight to Harry’s jaw. All he could see was black for a couple of seconds, but once he regained his composure, the first thing he saw was River’s arm wrapped around Stella’s shoulder.

She was motionless as she watched Harry, hands clasped together and under her chin as she hoped for him to win. It was like she didn’t even notice his arm was on her, and Harry can’t decide if that makes it worse.

The anger from earlier today at the gym, and from picking Stella up, and from Stella being late boiled back inside of him. The look on his face was a deadly one as he spat on the ring floor, raising his fists back in the air, ready to strike. His opponent looked terrified for a quick second, but he too raised his fists, nowhere near ready to give up.

Harry won.

Scary part is, he doesn’t even remember it. 

One moment he’s standing there, the next his arm is being raised in victory as the referee declares him winner. His breathing is heavy, his heart is beating rapidly, and his body is drenched in sweat. He feels hot and disgusting, so he walks over to Mack in the corner, who’s waiting with a towel for Harry to spit his mouthguard on to.

He receives compliments left and right as he makes his way backstage, but he practically ignores them all as he searches for the only one that matters. Her face pops up within seconds out of the crowd, and then she’s making her way towards Harry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, not caring about the sweat and the stickiness of his skin. “Knew you’d win.”

“I always do when you’re here,” he hums, pecking her cheek and shrugging his shoulders, leaving one arm slung around her, raising his eyebrows in a cocky manner, basically saying I never lose. Stella hums in response, shaking her head at the cockiness, before needing to find the nearest bathroom, stating she’ll be back in a few minutes. 

Niall and Libby didn’t stay for long after the fight, so all that was left was Harry and River. Alone. Alone, while Stella was in the bathroom. Harry tried really hard to ignore him, but being alone fueled the fire in his mind, and couldn’t help himself. “What do y’think you’re doing?”

River was surprised at this, because as far as he knew, he wasn’t doing anything. “Excuse me?”

Harry scoffed, unraveling the tape on his hands, clenching his jaw as he looked up. “Never seen you two so … close, before.”

River shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders. If he was supposed to feel intimidated by Harry, he wasn’t. Who Stella decided to be around was her own decision, and it wasn’t any of Harry’s business what their personal relationship was. Not that it was anything more than friends, Harry didn’t need to know that. “Well, someone has to be there for her. Y’know, after all the pain you caused.”

After all the pain you caused. Harry swallowed at the thought. Their breakup weighs heavy on him, and not a day goes by where he doesn’t think about the pain he caused, the pain that ensued afterwards. He knows he hurt her badly, and he’s not so sure anything could ever make up for what he did, but knowing that others know he hurt her made him feel uneasy. The worst part of it all? Knowing that he wasn’t the one she cried to, confided in, needed support from. 

River was, any of her friends were, but not Harry.

He gripped the bench he was on, mulling over the idea of Stella seeking River out to talk about her relationship problems, and praying Stella would come back quickly before he does something he regrets. Before he could say anything back, River made the decision to keep egging him on, leaning his back against the wall by the door. “Harry, you gotta let her go, mate. I think we both know this will always end badly between the both of you. ”

Harry stood up from his seat, stalking across the room, ending up right in front of River, barely a foot of space between them. Harry doesn’t like the way he says his name, venom and distaste found in every syllable, almost as though she could never see it. “You don’t know shit about Stella and I.”

“Don’t I? I know a lot more than you think, Harry Styles. If you love Stella, you’d stay away from her,” he spat back, narrowing his eyes into slits, taking his hands out of the pockets of his jeans. 

Harry wishes it was that easy. If Harry could physically stay away, he would. She doesn’t deserve the trouble he brings and he most certainly doesn’t deserve her. Love isn’t that easy, though. It can’t be that easy. Stella’s his girl. There’s no one else for him. He can’t let her go.

“You’re bad for her. Can’t you see that?”

And just like that, Harry’s fist came in contact with River’s cheek. The dancer’s body was thrown off his arrogant balance, nearly toppling over onto the floor from the brute impact. Harry gripped the back of his shirt, throwing his back against the wall he was just perched on, taking hold of his jaw so he had nowhere else to look but at him. Harry tilted his head to the side a bit, leaning in just a bit closer so his hushed words could be heard, just between them two.

“You’re gonna go. Stella is my girl, and I won’t go down without a fight - which we both know you’ll lose. So you’re gonna leave her alone, got it?” Harry hissed, tightening his hold on River’s jaw, which any tighter, he could probably break.

River wasn’t happy, that much was evident, but he knew when to give up. Harry was a force he had no time or effort to reckon with, so unwillingly, he nodded his head. His face was dropped, and Harry stepped back, clapping him on the shoulder with a condescending smile as he pointed towards the door to the locker room. Holding his tender face, River gave Harry one last middle finger before walking out.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, knocking his head back so he was facing the ceiling. The deep pit that had been nestled into his gut all day finally vanished, and he finally felt at peace. He could finally get the idea of Stella with anyone else out of his head and maybe, just maybe, get their relationship back on track to what it used to be. For that to happen, though, Harry needed Stella to fully trust him again, and he was still struggling with how to gain her forgiveness. Because anyone that knew Stella knew that she could hold a grudge.

He didn’t get much time to think about it though, because after a million years, Stella finally came back from the bathroom. “I swear, I just don’t think today’s my day. I went into one stall and it didn’t have toilet paper, and the next one didn’t either, and ... Hey, where’s River?” she suddenly wondered, stopping mid-ramble to look around the room, seeing it was just Harry in there.

“Said summat about not feeling good, left a couple minutes ago. I’ll drive you home,” Harry disclosed, tugging his clean clothes out of his bag so he could go take a shower quick before they left.

“Oh, that’s odd. He seemed fine before. I hope he’s better for rehearsals tomorrow,” she spoke worriedly, making a mental note to text him when she gets home. They only had three months until the competition, and they haven’t really performed the dance together yet. They’re already on a time crunch, so him being sick really didn’t help their case.

The whole time they were alone together after Harry’s shower, not a single word was exchanged between them. It wasn’t a necessarily awkward tension between them, but it wasn’t the most comfortable either. The journey across the parking lot to Harry’s car was silent, and then the car ride was only filled with the quiet lull of the music on the radio.

When they arrived outside her building, Harry put the car in park, but Stella didn’t jump to get out just yet. She played with the ring on her finger - that actually used to be Harry’s, gnawing at her bottom lip gently. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Harry placed his hand on her thigh and smiled slightly, and Stella knows exactly what Harry’s going to say. It’s the same every week, every match.

“Thank you for coming.” 

Stella glanced up at him, pulling a small smile across her lips, slowly nodding her head. For some reason, she could feel tears and anguish building up inside of her, causing her to look away quickly as she reached for her purse on the floor between her feet. She placed her hand on the door handle, ready to pull on it before turning back around to face him for one last time in the night. “Congratulations, H. I’ll see you soon.”

Then she was gone, and that unmistakable pit in Harry’s stomach resurfaced. 

.・゜゜・ Stella  .・゜゜・

Stella can see her anger. That’s all she can see at this moment. Bright red. Burning anger. Fueling rage. Usually, Stella knows how to channel her anger, to calm herself and bring herself back to Earth and level herself out without making a scene. However, right now, Stella absolutely cannot. All of her rage is targeted at one person, one person that she swore she’d never take the time to be this angry at ever again. 

Harry.

Stella hasn’t been this angry since she and Harry broke up over a year ago, since the moment she stepped on the stage and realized that the one person that she wanted to be there wasn’t there at all. Stella hasn’t been this angry since Harry blamed it on oversleeping and forgetting, since he lied to her face and tried to win her back with broken promises and empty words. Stella hasn’t been this angry ever in her life, and it’s beginning to make her skin hot and her face sweat with the rush of it all. 

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“What do you mean you’re through?” Harry asks angrily as he begins pacing around the bedroom that he and Stella practically share at his apartment. Stella’s old place was nearly empty by the time they were dating for six months and she was about to sign the final paperwork to end her lease and move in permanently with him. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Stella says harshly, shaking her head and sucking back tears that are threatening to fall. Stella can’t cry. Not right now. Harry can’t see how broken she is over this, over everything.

“Is this because I missed the performance? Is that what all this is about?”

Stella sets her clothes in the suitcase and looks at Harry with tears in her eyes, biting back a laugh and sucking in a deep breath, one singular tear falling down her cheek as she stares at him. Harry looks broken, as if someone’s dug a knife into his chest and twisted at the seams. In a way, Stella is glad he feels this way, this hurt, this pained, because maybe, just maybe, Harry would understand how she felt to win and be completely alone, without the one person that she wanted there.

Stella’s mind goes back to the memory of the competition, of how she felt. 

Stella stepped onto the stage with nothing but joy and pride in her eyes. Stella’s first national title was about to be won as long as she scores high enough, and that would mean she would be one step closer to earning the money to open her own studio. Her mother, Luna, is in the audience, Harry’s mother and sister, all of their friends are there ready to cheer her on. Harry should be there, his flight landed nearly an hour ago, and he said he was going to come right there to watch her. Harry promised that much.

Stella performed her very best, danced the best she’s ever done, earned a standing ovation from the audience and the judges and a perfect score on her sheets. Angie hugged her tightly as she came off the stage, River shortly behind, her eyes looking expectantly out in the crowd to see her family and friends and searching rather impatiently for the one person that she wanted there the most. Harry wasn’t there. Harry wasn’t there at all.

“Of course, that’s what this is about, Harry! Are you dense?” Stella shouts without meaning to, frustration lacing her voice and making it nearly impossible to keep level headed. “You missed the most important competition of my career. For what? Because you overslept? Because you didn’t want to fly?”

“Stella.”

“Wait, were you sleeping with that one girl? What’s her name? Molly? The one that’s been following you around to all your matches, lately?” Stella seemingly has made up her mind before Harry’s even opened his mouth to respond. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, Stella. I have never and would never cheat on you,” Harry says sternly, shaking his head and taking a cautious step forward, his chin dropping to his chest when Stella takes a step away from him. “Don’t believe me, that’s fair, but I swear to you, I never cheated. I overslept. I got lazy and missed my flight. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“God, Harry, grow up! You’re such a fucking hypocrite!”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” Harry grits through his teeth, shaking his head and cracking his knuckles, clenching and unclenching his fists to try and gain control of his anger. He always had a bit of a temper. 

“How would you feel if I missed one of your matches? One of your biggest matches, because I was too tired from dance and from work and didn’t want to get on a flight.”

“I would understand, Stella,” Harry lies, trying desperately to soften his eyes and make her believe him. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her into staying, per se, but he certainly wouldn’t admit that he would be furious at her, that he wouldn’t take an apology and would likely need a few days to cool off from how angry he would be. “Maybe I wouldn’t understand, I would be angry. I wouldn’t break up with you, though.”

“No, Harry, you’d just give me the silent treatment until I begged you to come home and apologized for days,” Stella says confidently, anger lacing every word that she’s spitting out and making him all the more able to see that he won’t be winning this argument any time soon. “I know you, Harry Styles. I know you better than anyone, and I know how angry you’d be at me. Harry, you wouldn’t speak to me for days if I missed a match. And yet, you can miss my biggest competition, which I won, by the way, and try to get away with it scott free, without any repercussions. It doesn’t work like that, Harry. Life doesn’t work that way. Just because you’re good looking and a good boxer doesn’t mean you can just get away with anything!”

“I’m not trying to get away with it, Stella. I said I’m sorry!” Harry booms, his voice travelling around the bedroom and echoing in her ears, the velocity of his voice against the thin walls making sure their neighbors must’ve heard everything. Stella, frankly, doesn’t care at this moment. All Stella cares about is getting the hell away from Harry Styles. “Stella, please don’t go. I need you. You’re my lucky charm. I’ll fuck up if you’re not there.”

“That’s it? That’s why you want me to stay - because I’m good luck?” Stella asks astonishedly, shaking her head and zipping her suitcase even faster than she originally planned on it. Stella thought about making things dramatic, dragging it out slowly and surely, but of course Harry had to go and say something absolutely ridiculous to make her even more angry. Harry doesn’t know how to watch his mouth. “Fuck you, Harry.”

“Stella, I love you,” Harry says as a final plea, taking her wrist in his strong grip and turning her around, forcing her to look into his eyes. Stella’s expression is lifeless and cold, her honey eyes darkened and worn with anger. Harry doesn’t recognize this Stella, he doesn’t recognize her at all. This isn’t his Lucky Charm, his Stella Bella, his Stella. This isn’t his girl. This woman hates him. Hates him a lot. “Stella, I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. I want you because I love you. I don’t care about the stupid, bloody fights.” Stella looks at Harry knowingly. “Okay, I care a little bit. It’s how I pay for my life. It’s my job, Stella. I was tired, and I thought it wouldn’t matter if I missed one competition. I wasn’t thinking. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Harry, you need to grow up. I would do anything for you, quite literally anything, and you couldn’t even get on a plane to see me perform on the biggest stage I’ve ever performed on, for a national title, for me. I lied to your family for you. I lied to my family for you. I lied to our friends. I told everyone your flight got delayed and you were watching the livestream. I won’t do that again. I won’t lie to the people I care about for you, ever again. I’m not going to put myself in that situation,” Stella says sternly, shaking her head and yanking her wrist away from Harry’s grasp. “Maybe one day we’ll make it work, but you need to grow up. Harry, you’re jealous and immature and you think the world revolves around you. News flash, it fucking doesn’t.”

“My world doesn’t revolve around me, Stella,” Harry shouts as Stella begins walking out the door. “It revolves around you! Everything I do is for you, Stella.”

Stella looks at Harry longingly, as if she wishes that the words were enough to make her stay. “If your world revolved around me, Harry, then you would’ve been there, and I wouldn’t be walking out the door, right now.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Knocking on Stella’s door came early, a bright seven in the morning with the sun freshly risen, a few hours before she was meant to meet River at the studio. They were meant to rehearse for a few hours at the studio, before Stella would go to the gym and meet Harry for his training for the match that was in a few week’s time. That Stella knew. That was all in Stella’s mind as she wrapped a robe around her figure and hurried to the front door where the knocking was incessant and repetitive.

This, though. This, Stella had no idea about. 

Stella opened the door, dazed and confused by River’s appearance, hurrying him inside and making a cup of coffee for them both. River had a bruise the size of a fist on his cheek, and a scrape along his forehead that makes it seem like he was smacked into the ground.

Immediately, Stella knew. Stella Smalls instantly knew who the culprit was and why it was happening. It made her furious. Harry always had a bit of a temper, a bit of a jealousy issue when they were together, but it was never anything that she couldn’t handle by herself. This, though, was too much.

“Look Stella, I love you. I love you as my friend,” River says softly, taking a sip of the coffee she’s set in front of him apologetically and running his finger around the rim. “I love you as a dancer, I love you as a partner, I do. I don’t want you to think that I don’t.”

“River,” Stella says hesitantly, knowing exactly where he’s going with his sentence, going exactly where she doesn’t want him to go. This could ruin her life, her chances at winning the title, of opening her own studio this year. This could ruin everything. All because of Harry.

“I can’t be your partner anymore, Stella.” There, River said it. Stella knew that was going to be it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting like a bitch. “Can’t be your partner, Stella, not if you’re going to be friends with Harry and he’s going to be around all the time. Harry is, quite frankly, Harry is a mess to deal with and a temper and a lot. Know that it’s not fair to make you choose, and I don’t plan on making you choose.” River is too good for Stella. Way too good. “I think you need to do this piece as a solo act for the world title. Stella, it’s so good. It really is. You’re going to perform it wonderfully on stage.”

“Except you can’t do it with me,” she says, toying with the rings on her fingers and clenching her knuckles together into fists, fighting the urge to smack her hand against the marble counter.

“Right,” he says regretfully, dipping his head to his chest and letting the air puff out between his lips. “I’m so sorry, Stella.”

“I, um, I think I need to be alone,” Stella sighs, saying every word with regret and shame and anger, sadness lacing every syllable. “I don’t understand, not really, but I’ll try to. Honestly, though, I just want to be alone, right now.”

River simply nods quietly and stands from the barstool at her kitchen counter, walking towards the entryway of her apartment and opening the front door. “I’ll see you at the studio?”

“Mhm,” she hums without saying a word, discontentedly drawing a circle around the rim of her mug and not daring to look away from the ceramic cup in her hands. 

“Bye, Stella,” River says as he walks out the front door, regret and sadness lacing his voice. Stella wants to punch him in the other eye for feeling pity for her. He should’ve been stronger, acted tougher, not let Harry get to him. Maybe Harry should’ve left him alone. “I’m sorry.”

Her head slowly nods and her eyes stay cast on the marble counter that she’s leaning on. Stella doesn’t want River to see her cry. Angry cry, that is. 

All of Stella’s anger is channeled towards Harry. All of it. Every ounce. There is not one bone in her body that isn’t infuriated with Harry Styles, that wants to punch him in the face and yell until her cheeks turn blue. Harry ruined her chance at the World Title by doing this. He’s ruined her chance at opening her own studio. He’s ruined it. 

Harry is at the gym, that’s easy to know. He always is. This calms Stella, knowing exactly where to go and what to do. Maybe not what to say, but that will come with her anger as she ruminates in the frustration. Stella wipes her tears from her cheeks, readies herself for the day - which includes wearing one of his training shirts and jeans and trainers - and hurries along to the gym down the street, rushing inside and bursting through the doors to see the man of the hour, pummeling away at a free-standing punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

“Harry Styles,” Stella shouts, walking in and commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “Harry Edward Styles!”

“H,” Mack says, ripping an earphone from Harry’s ear and nodding towards where his ex-girlfriend is angrily walking towards them, hands balled into fists. “Got a visitor. An angry one.”

“Stell, what are you doing here so early?” Harry wonders confusedly, brushing his hair away from his forehead and sucking in a deep breath, slowly taking the gloves off his fists and tucking them under his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Stella scoffs, throwing her head back in a thick and pained laugh and lifting her hands in the air with a smack to her thighs. “Am I okay? River quit today. Quit the whole fucking routine. All because someone made one too many threats about being with me.”

“Have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry shrugs, walking away and pushing the door into the Men’s Locker Room open, waiting for the yelling to diminish, especially considering how many people were staring in the center of the gym. He reaches his locker, ignoring the calling of his name behind him and opens his locker, shoving his gloves and mouth guard into the metal container and taking a towel and wiping the sweat clinging to his forehead. His hand slams against the locker next to him, causing a banging sound to resound through the quaint space. 

“Don’t walk away from me, Harry,” Stella shouts from outside the locker room door, waiting rather impatiently for him to exit, and when he doesn’t in a near thirty seconds, she’s storming inside after him, ignoring the calls and squeamish shouts from the grown men changing in the midst of the room. “Fuck, Harry, you’re such an asshole, you know that! Making my partner quit on me, three months before my competition!”

“Awfully cozy with someone that’s just your partner, Stella,” Harry says sarcastically, drawing out every syllable and taking a step away from the locker, and standing with his hands on his hips as he stares at her, taking in the beauty that she gives off so effortlessly. “Not to mention, I didn’t make him quit. I simply said that he needed to take a step back. Coming to my fights with you. Kissing you. Making a show with you. That’s not what a partner does.”

“Harry, I’m not your girl anymore! I’m not someone you get to be jealous over and fight over! Get that through your thick head!” she screams angrily, huffing a breath and ignoring the stares that she’s receiving as the remainder of the men in the locker room leave the two to argue quietly.

Harry cracks open his locker and reaches for his water, his eyes falling to the photographs that are still stuck on the inside of the metal door. “Of course, that’s what you think, Stella, but, you’ll always be my girl.”

Harry can’t shut the locker door before Stella sees the photostrip, the three photographs of the two of them from their anniversary two years ago. “Is that?” Her eyes well with tears at the thought, the photographs that she searched high and low for after their breakup to try and hide away with all of the other things that she saved in a wooden box beneath her bed, all the photographs and memories that she wanted to keep for the day they, maybe, got back together like she had thought about, at first. “Have you kept them all this time?”

“Not like you were going to want them anymore,” Harry says spitefully, slamming his locker shut and walking towards where she is, setting his hands on either side of the locker that she’s standing against and holding her between his arms. “Not like you wanted me anymore.”

“Harry, don’t,” she says sadly, slinking beneath his arms and walking towards the locker, turning his birthday in the pin and opening the combination, her hands reaching for the photostrip and running her fingers along the tattered photographs, reminiscing sweetly on the memory. “Did you know I looked everywhere for these? I wanted them.”

“Wanted them for what, Stella? To what? Throw out?” Harry is angry, clenching his hands into fists and getting ready to take the photograph out of her hands before she can take them and run away with them. That’s the last thing that he has of Stella that isn’t broken and shoved in a bin beneath his mattress. That’s the last thing he has left of when his Lucky Star was his.

“No,” Stella sniffles, wiping her eyes and sticking the photograph back on the metal wall of the locker door. “I wanted to keep it for when we got back together, you prick. I thought, I thought we’d get back together. I didn’t think we’d stay apart.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Stella,” Harry warns, stepping around the bench separating them and leaning one hand on the locker next to Stella’s head, her thumbs tracing over the photographs where she’s hiding in his neck laughing and he’s holding her tightly, the one where they’re kissing and smiling and they look happy, because they were. Harry and Stella were so happy together. Harry softens looking at the tears on her cheeks, and cautiously leans forward to wipe a stray tear from her skin. “Stella Grace, look at me.” 

Cautiously, Stella lifts her head and meets Harry’s stare, his intense green eyes staring back at her longingly and - dare she say - lovingly, his thumb going under her chin and holding her face to his. “What, Harry? I’m not sure what else you could possibly want from me. Especially now, when I have no duet partner and the World Title is only three months away. You’ve royally fucked me over, Harry.”

“I am so sorry, Stella. I didn’t think River would quit.” Stella looks at Harry knowingly, threateningly, as if to say, I will leave if you don’t tell me the truth, and that whips Harry into shape. Harry can’t let her leave. This is selfish of him, of course it is. Harry loves Stella. Love can be selfish sometimes. Can’t it? “Okay, well, I hoped he would. I wasn’t thinking about you, though. That was selfish of me. I’m sorry. I love you, Stella. I act selfish and stupid when I think about you with someone else. It makes me do crazy things. Stupid things. Tell me what I have to do to make it right, Stella.”

Stella thinks for a minute, really contemplating all that Harry has said and how she feels and the emotions that are rushing through her in that moment, everything feeling a bit too much and like she needs to break away and find herself in the studio dancing over and over until she can make sense of everything. That’s what Stella does - Stella dances to make sense of everything. That’s when it hits her.

“Dance with me.”

“Huh?” Harry chokes out, shaking his head immediately and wondering how in the hell Stella came up with that as what he needed to do to win her over. “Stella.”

“Harry, you need to dance with me, or you need to leave me alone. That’s it.”

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?