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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

trouble looks for me [thorkyrie x reader]

summary: valkyrie has no choice but to break a promise, so you have no choice but to misbehave. thor, well, he’s just along for the ride.

pairing: thor odinson x valkyrie x reader

words: 6,666

trigger warnings: sub!thor, brat taming, spanking, degradation, orgasm denial, creampies, strap ons

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

It starts at the restaurant. Valkyrie had been working non-stop to fit in everything she had needed before the end of the fiscal year, leaving you and Thor with her for weeks on end.

In combination with Valkyrie’s strict rules, this also meant you and Thor had touched each other, let alone made each other cum since…Oh god, you can’t even remember…

You’d both gotten a text from her that day, telling you to get ready for a fancy dinner and that she would pick you up at precisely seven.

That left you with five hours to get ready which, to some may have been a lot, but for you…

As with most men, Thor doesn’t take long to get ready – even if it took him a solid forty-five minutes to choose the correct pair of panties (he settles on a baby pink pair with a small, white bow. By the time he was tucking his pristine white shirt into them, you were just finishing up your eyebrows and foundation – let alone had you picked your outfit.

You had narrowed it down to three dresses – a deep blue, thigh-length long-sleeved one with a deep V-neck and makes your legs look superb, a little black dress with tiny straps that leave nothing to the imagination, or a baby pink, floor-length gown with a fitted top that shows off your shoulders and tits and whose skirt flows behind you just as waves recede from a beach at dusk.

(It doesn’t take you long to choose that last one, to say the least. Plus, it matches Thor’s panties. How couldn’t you choose that dress! How!?)

You gingerly place it on the bed as you go back to your bright vanity, placing your numerous eyeshadow pallets and lipstick choices in front of you so you have an accurate view of your make up-related choices for the night. You’ve done looks like this before, played the cute, coy girl many times. Still, you like to make sure everything is perfect – the eyeliner and the eye shadow and your brows and your lips and your highlighter. It all has to be perfectly placed on your face to ensure maximum balance between “totally gorgeous” and “totally fuckable.”

It was ten minutes to the approximate time Val had said she’d pick you up when you’re notified of what could possibly be the worst news ever.

Hey loves, so sorry but a colleague needs some more convincing on a budget proposal. He’ll be joining us tonight for dinner.

You groan loudly, but immediately cease when you receive another text.

That means you both need to be on your best behavior.

You smirk as you go back to adjusting the bracelet Val had gotten you during your vacation to Boca last year. No matter what, no matter who joined you and your lovers, tonight was going to be fun, and whether or not this a blew back in your face was not a problem.

Well, at least not your problem, and at least not now.

You finish getting ready with the fire of vengeance deep in your stomach, jaw set and eyes narrowed as you get the text from Valkyrie saying she was outside waiting with your dishonorable guest (your words, not hers).

You greeted the older man with a curt nod bordering on polite. Luckily, he pays more attention to Thor, moving to shake his hand despite the award angle.

If it were any other context you’d spit in his face, make a passive aggressive comment, something more than all but ignore him as you cross your arms and slump against the fancy leather seating with a small huff. Either Valkyrie pretends not to notice, or she’s too busy allowing Thor to work his patented charms to watch your every move.

Either way, it makes your sour mood that much worse.

The car ride is long, meant originally so that Val could tease you and Thor while she drove (and because all of the closer restaurants may or may not have you banned for life, but that feels like an unimportant detail as you huff and pout in the back of the car). The ride, one you fully expected to be electrifying and fun and full of very unsubtle teasing, is mind-numbingly boring. Valkyrie and the Mystery Man are talking about numbers and other things you don’t care about, the former obviously trying to keep her cool as a man who thinks he knows more than her attempts to explain something she has a master’s degree in. You’re sure that if she could channel you during a particularly bad day to scream and claw at him she would, but no. She’s a professional woman at the top of her field attempting to expertly yield power. For Valkyrie, there is no lashing out; there is no way to regain control once she loses it.

Part of you respects her immensely for this: you acutely know what it’s like to be belittled and demeaned by people who should know better. She’s a bisexual woman of color in a predominately white, male field. Her job is hard, dealing with the men she works with harder. You and Thor listen diligently to her post-work day rants and desire for revenge, help her destress in any number of ways. This part of you wants to snap his neck so he never bothers her again, taking your rightful place as the devil forever keeping watch over her shoulder.

The other part of you wants to snap his neck so that he would leave you and your lovers the fuck alone. Is it too much to ask that you have a nice dinner with Valkyrie and Thor – a dinner where the only thing that could mess with the night’s activities is you!?

As you listen to the man explain what a “tight job market” is again, you wish you could bang your head against the tinted, bulletproof glass so hard you would pass out.

Yes. You think. Yes, it is much too much to ask.

It’s not even thirty seconds later when you get the most magnificent idea. Thor’s not paying attention to you, either, watching the world pass by outside as he thinks about…whatever it is runs through his mind when he’s trying to block out people’s voices.

You wait for the conversation to become loud and thick with tension to strike – knowing neither of the people in the front seat will be paying much attention to whatever it is will happen between you and him. When the time is right, you run your hand over his clothed cock, skin alive with electricity as you feel it twitch.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he hisses low in your ear. “It’ll get you in trouble.”

You just smiled, painted lips twisting into a faux pout and big eyes widening purposefully. “You promise?”

You continue to tease him, sneaking your hand into his pants just to hear his breath hitch. You lean once more, just as your fingers brush over his lace-covered cock.

“I’m getting wet just thinking about you,” you whisper. “Thinking about you coming in your pants before this fancy dinner.”

“If you do that, I’ll cum,” Thor growls lowly, desperate to keep it from Val’s ears.

You smile just as before, leaning close so your perfectly painted lips touch the shell of his ear. “Is that a dare?”

He narrows his eyes at you, trying to remain subtle as Val and the unexpected guest talk about break evens, or something equally boring.

“Seriously, you could get in trouble if you keep doing that!” he whispers, voice pointed.

You just look at him, eyes ablaze with mischief. “Oh, so it’s a challenge.”

Thor just glares at you before turning to look back outside, biting his lip and trying to find a distraction as your hands go down his pants. “Does it make you hard,” you whisper back. “knowing I could do anything I want to you right now? Does is make you hard knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop me?”

Thor’s jaw tenses, but he says nothing back.

“C’mon,” you tease. “Don’t you want to have a little fun with me?”

He shakes his head but says nothing. You huff, baring your teeth a little while you stare daggers into him.

Thor only speaks when Valkyrie’s tone becomes pointed once more, easily covering his own voice. “S-she’ll catch us!” he hisses.

You roll your eyes, fully aware there’s no way either of the people he’s talking about how any interest in either of you. They’re both stubborn, bullheaded, determined to win whatever standoff is happening between the two of them. To consider that they would just turn around to check on you or Thor is ridiculous, to say the least.

There’s no reason they’d look back and see you with one hand down Thor’s pants, the other spread across his thigh; there’s no chance they’d see his eyes screwed shut and his lips barely parted or your wicked grin.

Still, you fun is cut short when the restaurant pulls into view, making you wretch yourself away from Thor while he tucked himself back into his pants and tried to calm the deep blush that had spread across his face. It’s useless, though, because as Valkyrie hands the keys to the valet neither she nor the unwanted guest take a single look at you.

You roll your eyes as you’re seated at a rounded table in a far corner of the restaurant, you and Thor on one side with Valkyrie and her colleague on the other.

It’s annoying, so annoying. Watching her pay attention to that man, that fucking colleague instead of you. She promised – she promised! – that all of it would be over, that her deadline and goals were going to be met and done and finished and she’d put away her work life for one night to pay attention to you!

(And Thor. But whatever.)

She and the…male…are talking in that tone you recognize from those mind-numbing political dramas Val loves so much. It’s nice, courteous, but fake enough to be sold on Canal Street and threatening enough that it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Needless to say, you don’t like it very much, don’t like it very much at all. You have this indescribable urge to use your perfectly done, almond shaped matte nails to claw into his face – marking him for all to see how easily he was taken down by little ole you.

A similar itty bitty voice wants to fake a medical emergency and order an UberX and to get as far away from him as possible and then fake a slightly more extreme medical emergency every other time you are forced to be around him. There’s just something…slimey about him that you can’t place, like cooked chicken that’s gone bad. It makes you wrinkle your nose each time you have the misfortune of catching him in your eyeline. Thor notices, his face softening as he takes a drink from his glass of ice water.

“You see it, too?” he asks, ducking his head low so to remain unheard by the slimeball in question.

You wrinkle your nose, angling your neck back to whisper in his ear. “I can feel it.”

Thor lets out a small snort before turning back to his first course. You don’t know what he ordered, and don’t care to pick at what Val ordered for you. It becomes obvious halfway through Val’s salad that neither of them – neither of the high powered people in front of you – are paying you any mind. The coworker asks Thor what he does for a living and he’s given the usual lie, that Thor’s a grad student. He doesn’t ask you anything, only giving you a once over before licking his lips and taking a long drink of his expensive red wine.

If you ever wanted to kill someone, right then was the peak of those urges.

It doesn’t take long for you to become a tad more comfortable, a tad of tenseness falling from your shoulders. Almost worse than being uncomfortable, you had become bored. And that, simply, will not do.

The easiest target, Thor, remains unphased by your change in demeanor – either not noticing or choosing not to react. It doesn’t matter his reasoning, you know he’s simple, uncomplicated prey. If the years you’ve known him hadn’t proved that, the incident in the car certainly did.

The next hour or so passes in a blur, the man leaving just before dessert; citing some work emergency or needing to get back to his wife and kids or something else you don’t care to pay attention to (though you do notice he doesn’t offer to pay his portion of the check. Even Valkyrie seems annoyed about that). He’s waved away with a curt goodbye, tense words of rehearsed professionalism exchanged as he waits for his UberX to arrive. It’s uncomfortable to say the least, and you silently rejoice when he finally exits the building.

The second he’s out of sight, though, you’re grabbed by the back of your neck and dragged so your nose touches Val’s.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” she hisses, teeth bared and jaw tense.

You’re stunned by the action, but not enough to not give her a small, wicked smile along with a small, “no.”

Just as Valkyrie’s about to retaliate, the waiter comes around the corner to deliver the dessert menu. She lets go of you immediately, pretending (just as the scrawny waiter is) that no one witnessed the interaction as the waiter begins to rattle off the night’s specials. The three of you choose something different with the same fake smile plastered over your face, one that drops the second he returns to…wherever it is waiters and waitresses go once they’re done talking to customers.

Val turns to you once more, grabbing your knee through the fabric of your dress – a warning. “Just you fucking wait until we get home. If you keep being a brat, you’ll regret it.”

You don’t respond, instead taking a sip of your ice water in a cup that’s one step down from a wine glass. You’re exactly where you want to be, why would you apologize, try to walk back your actions or plead for forgiveness? Now that Valkyrie was giving you the attention you were playing for, there was nothing you felt the need to explain.

The rest of the meal is nice, easy – you all ordered different desserts and pass spoonfuls of each dish between the three of you. It’s nice and sweet, a direct contrast to the sharpness Val had demonstrated just minute before. All three of you continue in your happy little bubble all the way home, cute and smiling and confusing the old heterosexual couples in the restaurant as you sit and leave together.

It all melts away, though, when you get inside the house.

The second you cross the threshold; Val grabs you by the arm and pulls you close to her. You yelp, more in surprise than pain – either way, she ignores you.

“Get your ass in the bedroom and stand at your place, facing the corner, while I wait for you,” she hisses, teeth barred. You whimper when she pushes you away, stumbling up the steps as you scutter off. You fear if you stay or so much as mumble a dissent, she’ll issue a much harsher punishment than the one she’s already planning. Given the anger in her face, you shudder at the thought.

Thor remains just inside the door, hands at his side and awaiting instruction.

Val only turns to him when you were out of sight. He stands there, cock hardening once more in his dress pants while her eyes bear into his.

One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, thumbing over his light stubble. “How are you so well-behaved and she’s like that?”

Thor just gives a small shrug before following the woman he loves up the stairs, trailing behind her as she navigates the prime wood floors despite her high heels and sour mood.

When she arrives in the room she exhales slowly through her nose, not necessarily happy to find you in the place she specified – but at least she hasn’t been disappointed once more tonight.

“Turn around,” she instructs you. You huff and cross your arms over your chest but do as you’re told. “Now, watch what could happen to you if you chose to behave.”

Valkyrie goes to unlock the special drawer at the top of her custom dresser, the solid gold key held on an anklet she wears all day every day. From it she takes Thor’s special collar – the deep blue one with solid white trimmings and PROPERTY OF BRUNNHILDE engraved into a small placard that rests in the center.

Thor accepts the mark of ownership[ with ease and it makes you want to roll your eyes. He’s always one to give in easy, who lives to be dominated. At the first sign of Valkyrie’s dominance, he opens his mouth eagerly for a gag, wiggles his ass for spankings, tilts his neck back to be choked. It’s pathetic, and Val loves it.

“Aw, I’ve barely touched you,” she smiles. “Why are you already opening your mouth, you needy thing.”

Thor just whines high in his throat, pleading up at her as he keeps his position on the floor. He wasn’t asked a question so he can’t respond, can’t speak – all he can do is sit there and hope she takes pity on him and gives him whatever it is he wants, needs.

For now, though, she’s got something more pressing to deal with. She sighs before turning to you in the corner, your nose pressed where the two white walls meet with arms at your side. Below your feet is a light pink mat demarking where you are supposed to be, where Val makes sure you stay when you’re waiting to be punished. If you had done something less bad you might have been able to face outward, but no. Not only had you behaved incredibly poorly, you had dragged Thor into your pitiful little game.

Thor – Val’s golden boy. He’s the apple of her eye, the sun after a storm. Thor’s always good, always perfect; always follows rules and does the right thing and never, ever talks back. He’s always her first pick as a plus-one for parties because he’s so wonderful and charming and can make any man or woman or pet fall head over heels for him. He’s like a fucking golden retriever and you hate him for it.

The worst part about that special, untouched crystal tchotchke of a man is that you’re never allowed touch him, to smudge him with the oil that pools on the pads of your fingers. Each time you see him – all shiny and new like a Tiffany bracelet just out of the packaging – you feel like a child dragged to a fancy art museum, forced to keep her hands in her pockets as adults gaze at timeless works of art.

It infuriates you, and she knows that.

Valkyrie pushes you down to the ground, teeth barred. “Get on your knees and keep your hands behind you, you stupid slut.”

You do as you’re told, bratty façade breaking away.

“Aw, look,” Valkyrie coos to Thor, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Our dumb little whore can follow directions! Isn’t that surprising?”

Thor, always one to follow directions, says nothing in return.

Valkyrie hmms happily at his obedience before turning back to you.

“Are you nervous, baby girl?” she asks. You nod slightly. “You should be. You’ve been a very bad little slut.”

Silently, one hand moves to cradle one side of your jaw, while the other pulls back just to land on your cheek in a sharp SLAP!

You cry out at the sharp pain but still squeeze your thighs together to quell the deep heat in your center.

Valkyrie laughs, lips forming into a sneer. “Just a little pain is getting that little pussy wet, isn’t it?”

Your mouth goes off faster than your brain can process. “I’m still turned on from fucking with your baby boy in the restaurant bathroom.”

SMACK!

Valkyrie slaps the other cheek, speaking over your cries of pain. “If I hit harder, will you be a good girl?”

You cower, too terrified to respond.

“Hm…” Valkyrie hums, unimpressed. “Do you like being punished?” she asks, looking down at you with har arms crossed.

You shake your head.

Val just smirks. “So if I checked right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

You gulp and cast your eyes downward. Still, she continues.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” she spits. “Do you even know why?”

She doesn’t wait for a nonresponse before continuing.

“It’s because deep down you’re just waiting for someone to put you in your fucking place.”

You gulp, but don’t deny it.

“Stand up,” Val hisses, watching as you struggle to get to your feet. As soon as you’re back on your feet she strips you, taking off your dress and then your shoes, leaving you in your lingerie.

Doesn’t even take the time to notice you matching Thor…she really is pissed.

“Spoiled little slut,” Valkyrie hisses. “You just need someone with a firm hand to teach you a fuckin’ lesson, don’t you?”

You swallow, petrified. “I’m sorry.”

Val raises a single eyebrow, but keeps her arms folded. A small victory. “You’re sorry?”

You nod. “Yes.”

She narrows her eyes. “Sorry what?”

“Sorry-“you hesitate, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“Daddy,” Valkyrie instructs.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you mumble.

She narrows her eyes once more and you scramble to correct your mistake.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, straightening your back to enable you to look her dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being bad, Daddy.”

Valkyrie just hmms, tapping her foot against the hardwood floor. “You know that alone isn’t going to convince me to forgive you, right?”

You cower away from her, shaking your head. “No, Daddy.”

“Well,” she sighs, looking to Thor – who just gives her a light shrug, just as before. Like most men, he never knows what to do with you. “I’ll just have to take you over my knee, won’t I?”

You gulp. Over the knee always lead to something more – something worse. You’re terrified to find out what that might be.

Val sits herself on the bed, gesturing for you to lay yourself across her thighs. You give her a sneer but do as you’re told, laying your naked body across her legs as you wait for your punishment to officially commence.

She runs her perfectly manicured nails over the supple skin of your ass and back, watching as goosebumps form and a shiver runs up your spine. One hand rests on the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other ghosts over your center.

When you whine, harsh slaps are laid against your ass, at least ten in quick succession. She ignores your cries as she yanks your head back by your hair as she sneers.

“You brats just love trying to get under my skin, but the moment I tease you, suddenly I’m the bad guy?” Valkyrie laughs while staring down at you. “Don’t act like you’re not getting exactly what you wanted, baby.”

For the first time that night, you bite your tongue and stay quiet.

“So now she wants to listen,” Val smirks. “Now the little brat wants to shut her filthy whore mouth and open her little ears.”

You whimper, curling into her as she continues to spank you until your ass is burning. Tears are threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes when she stops, pushing you off of her and back onto the floor.

“Enough punishment for you,” Val says, turning back to Thor. “I’m gonna focus my attention on someone who actually deserves it.”

The man in question remains in position across the room – him leaning on his heels with hands palm-down on his deliciously thick, bare thighs.

Fuck, what you wouldn’t do to ride him.

Valkyrie cups his scruffy cheeks with one hand, the other moving to run through his perfectly tussled hair.

“You wanna be my good little whore?” she asks, gazing down at his wide eyes.

Thor licks his lips, nearly jumping out of his skin with his red cock bouncing against his stomach. “Yes, Daddy. I want to be your good little whore.”

“And you’re going to be a good boy and do as you’re told. Aren’t you?” she asks, smiling as she watches him fight back a moan.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Valkyrie smiles, cooing. “See? It’s not that hard to be good, is it?” She lets out a faux sigh, tutting. “I don’t understand why some sluts just can’t get it into their dumb little brains that it’s better to behave.”

Neither of you say anything, the silence heavy; you have nothing to say, no retort at the tip of your tongue. Your whole being is zero-d in on Val as she instructs Thor to shed her of her black, lace panties – but not before making him leave a kiss there.

“You’re going to eat me out,” she says, backing up against the wall. “But remember, you’re not allowed to touch me unless I tell you. And good little whores do as they’re told, isn’t that right?”

You can see Thor swallow around his heavy tongue, eyes blown with lust. “Yes, Daddy. Good little whores follow instructions.”

Valkyrie just smiles. “Good boy. You may begin.”

Thor dives between her thighs without hesitation, Valkyrie moaning unabashedly as he licks at her clit, drinking her juices like nectar from a forbidden fruit.

“Is it turning you on?” Valkyrie laughs as you whine from your place across the room. “Watching my boy eat me out against a wall?”

You gulp and nod best you can, desperate to please.

“Good girls don’t like this kind of stuff,” she says, lips curled into a fake smile. “But you’re not a good girl, are you?”

You’re nearly shaking as she moans, pressing her center further against his face.

As soon as he’s given permission Thor throws one of her legs over his shoulder as he spreads her folds with one hand and grips her hip with the other.

“Aren’t you a good little slut,” Val murmurs, pushing Thor’s hair from his face.

He moans, eyes screwed shut. His hand leaves her hip to push one, two fingers into her. “Yes, Daddy, I’m your slut.”

Val’s own screams are broken, loud – he’s excellent with his hands and finds that spot inside of her easily, coaxing her to her peak with ease. As she comes down from her high, panting, Thor looks up from her legs, silently begging for praise with glazed-over eyes.

She grants it to him when she catches her breath, rewarding him with sweet low words that melt like butter on Thor’s golden skin.

“Such a pretty boy for me, aren’t you?” she coos. “So well-behaved for your Daddy, so good at following instructions and making Daddy feel good.”

You growl silently from your place on the floor as praises fall easily from her lips, wishing you could get that same treatment. You know you don’t deserve it, especially after the stunt (or stunts) you pulled tonight. Still, you wish you were the one on your knees, being coddled by Valkyrie as you gave her as much pleasure as she could ever want.

Val clears her throat one last time before speaking again, legs still a little shaky. “Now, I’m going to tie you up so you can sit there, dripping, while I give my good boy whatever he wants,” she tells you, getting out the rope.

You whimper as Thor moans loudly, holding your wrists out obediently as she walks over to you.

There are times you want to push and push – but the threat of being tied up and discarded into a corner while Thor gets all the glory while you’re denied or punished (or both) further whips you right into shape. Somehow you had missed stopping at the edge, had jumped off the cliff with no parachute. So you accept your fate, wait as Val bends down to tie your wrists.

“It’s a little too tight,” you whine, flexing your hands.

“I know,” she tells you plainly. “I don’t want you running off like last time.”

By “last time” she meant one of the first times she had ever tried rope play (not only with you, but in her life). As many inexperienced riggers have undergone, she looked up mid-orgasm to find that you had wriggled your way out of your bounds and were able to get yourself off. She was mad at you, of course – wouldn’t let you live it down despite how long it had been since that night.

She was mad at herself, too, though. Valkyrie is not a woman who enjoys feeling as if she has failed, especially when it comes to you and Thor. The sight of you writhing freely on the plush carpet in pleasure instead of tightly wound while a vibrator was placed just out of reach was something Val had thought about for weeks before she had found a night with enough time for the precise execution she felt necessary.

All three of you were sitting on the floor of the bedroom. She had Thor hold you as she followed the instructions she had memorized, eyes trained on the rope as she weaved intricate, functional patterns over your skin while she tied a vibrator in place. You struggled the whole time, but Valkyrie didn’t mind. She liked it quite a lot, actually – always revels in how your will to fight never ceases but your ability slowly surrenders to whatever bonds or complex mental game she had set for you.

She was fucking Thor with the new dildo she’d bought for his birthday when she heard something she knew she shouldn’t: you, moaning. Not whimpering, not whining, but moaning. Without regard to how Thor felt about the matter she pulled out so she could see why you were making noises associated with unfettered pleasure instead of merciless teasing.

She found you, fucking yourself against the vibrator with eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Valkyrie shudders at the thought, at failing once more. For her, falling short has never been an option – in academics, in her professional life, and, now, with you.

So she checks the ropes, then rechecks them, before leaving you on the floor alone once more, allowing her to return to her other, more obedient lover with the security of knowing your arms and legs are bound.

Thor watches the woman’s every move, still on the floor but holding infinitely more freedom than you do. His eyes are glued to her form, watching her like trapped prey watches a predator as it awaits its impending death.

Then again, is Thor prey? Is he the one tied up, awaiting judgement day? Or is he the sweet little pet of some apex predator who sees the ocean floor she prowls as a playground.

“What do you want, baby boy?” Valkyie asks, trailing her perfectly painted almond-shaped nails against his chiseled chest.

Thor gulps before answering. “I, I want you to ride me, Daddy.”

Without further discussion, Val grabs him by the collar and pushes him onto the bed, practically devouring him as her lips meet his. When she pulls away Thor chases her – and is met with Valkyrie’s firm hand pressing him back onto the sheets he had changed that morning.

You can see his eyes – the helpless, dazed that washes over his face as he realizes his pinned to the sheets.

“You want me to ride you, baby boy?” she purrs, teasing him.

Thor nods and stutters out a small “please,” pulling his head back to expose his neck.

Valkyrie just chuckles, moving to bite bruises into the tender skin there, still avoiding the place he wants her the most.

The man under her moans lewdly, fingers digging into the sheets with knuckles going white.

Valkyrie lets out a small laugh when she moves away – finally able to take in the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. This is that art piece in that museum you were bemoaning earlier, the thing she made sure you’d never damage.

When she aligns his aching cock with her center you nearly explode, desperately wishing you could be riding Thor’s face or groping Val’s tits or something that isn’t you being unable to touch either of them.

The ache between your legs only worsens as you watch Val grind her hips, as you watch Thor’s large hands grab everywhere he can.

“You want to come inside me?” she asks, breathless as she fucks herself onto your shared lover’s cock. “You want to eat your cum from inside my pretty pussy?”

Thor groans, eyes screwed shut. “P-please, please I want to-“

“Shh,” she coos, “It’s okay, baby boy. It’s okay, just do what you wish. This is your reward.”

Thor nods, whispering a slurred “thank you” before fucking into her harder, using everything he can find inside himself to chase the ultimate pleasure.

“C’mon baby,” Val coos. She’s close, you can tell by her strained voice and God all you want is to be up there, kissing her or rubbing her clit or doing anything to help her feel pleasure.

But no – you just have to watch as her stomach contracts and Thor whines at the feeling of her orgasming pussy on his close cock, babbling as he comes with a deep groan; his whole body tensing as his eyes screw shut and mouth hangs open. Even from your shitty angle on the floor you can tell how beautiful he looks, how beautiful they both look as they come together. You’re both jealous and remarkably happy – wishing you could be up there with them but thankful you’re so much as allowed to watch the other two people in your relationship.

It doesn’t take long for them both to dissolve into an overstimulated puddle, each of them trying to catch their breaths as you await the next stage of your seemingly-never ending punishment. It comes after what feels like forever, when Val nudges him to move over.

Thor lets out a frustrated groan but rolls over, leaving room for what the woman on top of him plans to do next.

Valkyrie moves to grab a toy and its matching harness from its special drawer in the walk-in closet, where each dildo is arranged in ascending order by size and girth with the harnesses. It was one of the chores Thor was made to do the morning after along with changing the sheets and restocking the water/snack minifridge that remained in arms reach of the bed. Valkyrie prefers a tidy home, one where she knows where everything is because everything is in its place.

Being the hurricane of a woman that you are, though, these moments of bliss are minuscule and fleeting – days full of shopping for clothes and trying dessert recipes you’d found online and annoying Thor by moving things just out of place.

It’s one of those little things you do that drives Val insane, one of the things that drives her to fuck you as hard as she currently wants to.

When she’s got the toy snug against her skin she stalks over to your place on the bed. You’re forced onto your back, knees forced to your chest to allow the woman on top of you easy access to your dripping center.

“Aw,” Val laughs. “You get so wet for me, don’t you?”

You nod, trying to give her your best innocent doe eyes. “Y-yes Daddy.”

Her smile reaches her temples as she enters you at an achingly slow pace, keeping you bent in half as she watches your face like an eagle watches a muskrat, as she watches your eyes roll to back of your head and you whine for more. “I know exactly what you want, princess. Know exactly what you need-“

She grunts as she begins to fuck into you harder, reveling in the sounds of your dripping pussy each time the toy bottoms out. It’s loud and pornographic, mirroring the depth of your moans.

“I-I-“ you stutter. “D-Daddy p-please!”

Val just smirks, reaching one hand out so she can snap to grab Thor’s attention. With no words exchanged between the two of them, he grabs the large cordless vibrator and switches it to the highest setting before handing it off.

Even if they were speaking, the screams that erupted from you as the toy was pressed to the most sensitive part of you would drown them out. Your loud babbling and the tears flowing from your face only push Val to fuck you harder, not letting up even as you squirt once, twice onto the covers – soaking the bed and your thighs and Val’s toy and her thighs and probably the mattress. She only pulls out when you beg in the broken voice she loves so much, when you finally give into her demands and apologize.

“I-I-“ you whimper, some last part of you holding out. Val knows this, knows she just as to wait one more moment before you’ll finally give in.

Still, she gives you a little nudge off the edge of the cliff. “C’mon love,” she murmurs into the sweaty skin between your shoulder blades. The contact makes you shudder, and she knows she’s got you right where she wants you. “It’s okay, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

You swallow what little spit is left in your dry mouth as you desperately attempt to speak clearly. “I, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

She smiles wide, kissing your temple. “I forgive you.”

You lay there, twitching, as Val pulls out the thick toy from your dripping center. Somehow you find it in you to choke at the empty feeling, to reach a hand out in a pathetic attempt to bring her body back to yours. It doesn’t work – Valkyrie has to put the toy in the bathroom for Thor to clean later and needs to grab water and a snack for the both of you. Still, you make small, sad noises as she walks from your shaky line of sight.

Thor does his best to comfort you, draws a lazy hand across your sweaty stomach and draws random patterns on your bare thighs. “She’ll be back soon,” he tells you breathily. You know he’s right – Val always returns back to you whether she’s traveling to the kitchen or Dubai. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear the patter of her footsteps become quieter as she leaves, though.

It feels like an eternity when she returns, holding a tray with a pitcher of ice water, cups, forks, slices of strawberry-vanilla cake Thor had made after you requested it oh-so-sweetly a day prior, had given him puppy eyes and jutted your bottom lip out. Val places the tray on the floor in front of you and him, pulling you into her lap as you two eat in silence. Only occasionally does she steal a bite from either of you, leaving kisses on random bits of skin while telling you how good you two did, how proud she is of both of you.

When you’re both finished Val puts it all aside on her nightstand, allowing you and Thor to lay down with her.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me next time?” Val asks as you snuggle into her side. Thor wraps himself around you, large body warming yours. His arms, thick as your head, are long enough rest on Valkyrie’s hips.

You leave a kiss on her bare ribs, smiling. “Not a chance.”

#thorkyrie x reader #thor odinson x reader #valkyrie x reader #brunnhilde x reader #thor odinson x valkyrie x reader #lukis writes stuff #thor x reader

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enbycalicocat · 3 years

Text

Day 4: 30th of January, 2021

June had called his older brother as soon as he had the free time to do so. Which was hours and hours after the presentation. But that was alright. His brother knew how hectic being a trainee was and had patience with June's late-night calls. Also, the performance was practically engraved in the teen's mind so there was no risk of him forgetting any detail about it. It had been that amazing.

Before he could go over Jimmie's presentation for the nth time that day, July's happy voice rang in his ear.

"Hey! Little bro! How are you? I haven't heard from you these past few days."

The heart in June's chest skipped a beat and he felt like it had grown in size and couldn't fit inside him anymore. He was really happy right now. He'd had an amazing day. And on top of that he really missed his big brother and liked talking to him when he allowed himself to call.

However, outwardly, June showed none of it.

"Hi bro," he said in the most nonchalant and bored tone of voice he could muster right now. He wanted to show how excited he was, but he'd only seen little kids being that exuberant. June was not a kid. He was going to be fifteen in just a few months. Plus, in a few years he would be eighteen. He was almost an adult. And he wanted to be treated as such. Hence, he’d stopped doing what he considered kid behaviors and began imitating the adults in his life. Most of them were very serious, and didn't really show their emotions on their faces. Like Summer. That was what he strived for. As for his older brother... Well, he was just a seven-year-old kid in a big body, in June's opinion. "I'm good. Been busy."

July chuckled. His little brother was the funniest, most amusing thing that had ever happened to him. He knew June, had watched him grown up and watched him enter his current 'perpetually uninterested' phase, and knew for a fact that he was trying to act cool. Actually, June had been trying to act cool for a while now, that was nothing new. Today, though, the bored tone sounded even more forced than usual, so, July knew something really good had happened.

"I see," he said with the same happy tone, trying to hide how much fun he was having at June's expense. Someday his little bro would grow and July would tell him all about how much he laughed internally. That day, July would also (hopefully!) stop having to painstakingly pull the good news out of him. "So, what did you do today? I mean apart from your boring middle school classes and the exhausting company schedule, did something interesting happen?"

If he didn't make the distinction, he feared June would purposely stall mentioning the thing he did want to talk about.

"Umm," June said as if he was trying to find something interesting in his mind-numbingly average day.

What happened today? The most amazing and beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life! And the biggest coincidence that has happened to me yet!

Would July even believe him when June told him?

"Nothing much," he said instead. Still disinterested. "Oh, yeah. One of my band members had some sort of dance thing today."

"Dance thing? You mean a dance presentation?" Aha! So, the good thing was related to that 'dance thing'.

Hang on a…

"Dance?" July asked out loud, June's words suddenly sinking in. "The only one you've told me that dances is Hobart. But I didn't know he performed on stage?"

"Not Hobi," June corrected. "It was a school dance thing."

"School? You have a band member that goes to school and dances? I thought only Taelyn went to school still?"

"Bro," June said clearly annoyed, "I told you about this. Did you even listen? The new guy is Tae's age. And he dances."

Really, June hadn't called his brother very often since Jimmie arrived two weeks ago. But he had called at least twice, and he had mentioned Jimmie. There was no way he hadn't when the older boy was the coolest person he'd known ever.

"Ah, right, I remember now!" July hurried to say, noticing that his brother was seriously angry. Note to self: Remember this new guy from now on. He's important. Very important. The older boy decided to quickly change the topic. "So, he had a dance presentation at school today? That's great! How was it? How was he?"

June went quickly over Jimmie's dance.

The way his body moved so elegantly, so perfectly in time with the music, so fitting for the melody, as if the music itself was the one controlling him.

Combining the dance and the music with the lights, they had managed to achieve some very neat tricks with shadows and the feeling the dance gave off; and Jimmie had seemed unreal, like some ethereal mythological deity.

The costume Jimmie had been wearing consisted of tight trousers, probably lycra or tights, that made the way his leg muscles shifted, tensed, and relaxed glaringly obvious; and the shirt had... Cleavage? It was a v-cut shirt, but the vertex was really low on his chest, showing his clavicles and a part of the dip his sternum caused between his pecs.

On top of that, the dance required Jimmie to often lower his head and chest, making the loose flowy shirt gape and show a tiny hint of his flat navel.

And then, at the end, the light had made Jimmie's sweat shine on top of his skin, making him look even more like some fantastical creature instead of a simple sixteen-year-old boy.

"Bro? You there?" July asked. Of course, he knew June was there. He could hear him breathing. But the silence had gone on too long, and he had to draw the teen out of his mind. Mentally, to that note he'd made before, he added another few 'very's to the ‘very important’ remark.

"It was good." The 'I could absolutely care even less' tone of voice didn't fool July for a single second. But June patted himself on the back for managing to reign in his desire to rant excitedly like a four-year-old.

July laughed out loud, because if he didn't, he might start crying. Could June please hurry up and get over this teen phase of his? July was patient but he was no saint and he was getting fed up of June’s stalling. "That's it? That's actually it? How am I supposed to know what the presentation was like from just a simple good?"

"Fine.” His little brother sounded like he would rather do anything else than try to find words to explain the performance. “The music was kinda good. They did some sort of light tricks or something? It was cool, I guess. The dance was not boring and repetitive, so kudos for that or whatever.” The teen sighed tiredly. “Like I said. It was good."

July was deeply impressed. That was the longest description he'd gotten from June in a while. He went back to that mental note and underlined it.

"Ah, I see. How was he, though? Did he perform well?"

Perfectly.

June had heard from Jimmie that he'd apparently made some mistakes in the choreography. Which was why the boy had been practicing the dance and going over every move and step meticulously in the corner of their practice room when June went out to call his brother in private. The younger boy had not seen or noticed any glaringly obvious mistakes, and he had been watching closely.

"He was okay." He even shrugged as if his brother could see him through the phone somehow.

In his mind, July added a second line under the already underlined note.

"That's great for him then!" He was genuinely happy. Not just because this boy had done well, but because his brother had been moved by something. That didn't happen often. "Do you know if it was his first time on stage? Or has he done these types of performances before?"

June practically vibrated in his seat from how happy and ecstatic he felt. Once more, his heart grew without his consent and his chest was too small to hold it. This was the biggest thing that had happened today.

"He's from Busset, I guess. He's done some shows there with the Busset High School of Arts or something."

The name of the school activated multiple alarms in July's brain. Busset High School of Arts? Wasn't that...

"The school your friends attended? The one you practically lived in? And the moment they announced a new show you'd drag us all over to watch it?"

"It was not like that." June glared at the wall in front of him and felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and shame.

"Huh, so he went to that school. I see. What a coincidence." July ignored June completely, not even teasing him like he would usually. He'd gotten the information he wanted. The puzzle he'd been trying to piece together and solve slowly taking shape. He went over all the little details he'd gotten out of his brother so far and suddenly an idea came to him.

"Hey, bro, you didn't happen to see some of his presentations here in Busset, did you?"

July was finally asking the questions June wanted to answer. The thing that had him almost bouncing off the walls.

He did. He knew Jimmie. Like he had actually seen him, talked to him, and hung out together before. Not only had he seen him in presentations. June actually knew the boy from before he started studying contemporary dance. He had really liked Jimmie back then. He'd even preferred spending time with him than with his actual friends. That had been before he came to the capital a year ago. They'd never exchanged numbers or anything. They didn't even know each other’s names, they'd just used some silly nicknames their school friends had given them. At the present time, June understood why Jimmie had gone by a nickname rather than his own name; it was the same reason June had done it: neither liked their names very much.

And now that same boy was here! In the capital! In the same band as him!

June thanked his brother in his heart because otherwise he didn't know how he would bring the topic up and if he didn't tell someone he might explode.

"Huh." June pretended to think. "Well, now that you mention it... He seems sort of familiar, I guess?"

Holy crap, June had actually seen the boy dance before! And then he went to the capital! And they both ended up in the same company!

July now understood June's excitement. His little brother used to adore the very ground those dancers stood on. He admired them so much and religiously attended all their performances. And July actually had a couple of friends in that school too. Wait! Another idea flashed by his mind.

"Did you happen to run into him or something? It would be really cool if you two had a common friend and met back in Busset."

"Weeeell..." June said like he was really exercising his brain and he was not at all certain about what he was going to say. All while somehow managing to sound like he didn't give a rat's ass about the whole conversation and idea. "I think he might've been friends with Joe, or something." July didn’t need to be there to know his brother was shrugging. "Like I said, he looks familiar."

Double holy crap! June had actually been friends with this boy! And now they met again!

July couldn't believe how small the world was. Fate seriously worked in the weirdest ways. It really seemed like something out of a cliché romance television show.

"That's so cool! I bet you're really excited to have met him again. I'm really happy for you little bro. Now you actually have an old friend from Busset there for you. Not that your capital friends aren't good to you or anything, but this guy knows you from your school days, so he's known you longer, and he's from the same town as you. He'll probably understand you a lot better than the other guys."

"Bro." From June's tone of voice July could practically see him rolling his eyes so hard that it most likely physically hurt. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, whatever. Anyway, there was also this sort of... Meeting, I guess? With the company's CEO. He told us that..."

As the topic of the conversation shifted entirely off the new boy, July smiled. He then proceeded to circle five times the note he'd made before. Hmm. Let's circle it one more time.

Prompt: 4. Share the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen in the most boring tone possible.

Previous Day Next Day

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apathycares · 5 years

Note

Hi I just found your writing and really liked it could you do a NSFW headcannon with Aizawa, Hitoshi, and bakugou

Nsfw Headcanons

Thank you! I’ve been waiting impatiently for someone to request an Aizawa related ask because ughhh hot potatoes he’s just an interestingly boring character to write. Before you come for me, Aizawa-balls-suckers, I mean his attitude is relatively boring, but it’s done well enough to keep your attention. I’m pretty sure I would’ve done one myself if nobody requested so, thank you so much anon. Love, an Aizawa-balls-sucker.

※ Warnings: nsfw af

※ Pairings: Aizawa x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Aizawa Shouta

First of all, congratulations on acquiring the most lackluster significant other. No really, it was a hard battle to convince him to give dating a shot, so you deserved to be proud of yourself. You managed to snag the least eligible bachelor.

According to the public.

Because the public, as far as you knew, hasn’t slept with him.

And you thought he was a snag before you two got intimate.

Body? 10. Stamina? 10. Intimacy? 10. Aftercare? OVER 9000!

Aizawa knew exactly what he did to you the first time you two got it on. His observational skills were top notch - it barely took a few minutes of foreplay to know exactly where to touch to get you absolutely drenched.

If you weren’t too engrossed in enjoying the new sensations his tongue offered, mumbling his name like a prayer and thrashing needly, you would’ve known he was putting everything he had into fucking you sideways, so much so that you’d never be the same again without him.

Because he loved you, he was making this… investment. Aizawa loved you and wanted you to be just as obsessed with him as he was with you.

Seems very drastic but you had to appreciate how calculating he was.

After that first night, you kind of had a tough time getting him to get freaky again.

It wasnt as if he lost attraction for you or anything, he just never had a high sex drive. It did shoot up quite a bit after that night but…

Honestly?

Aizawa was a tease.

You’d put on your sexiest lingerie and wait for him to get home, and when he did and saw you posing all risqué on the couch, he’d greet you unfazed and walk off to get changed.

Aizawa hears you muttering angrily as he climbs the stairs and grins like an excited little boy with a new toy.

You wait for him on the couch, arms folded across your chest. You shoot him a scoff when he settles down on his desk in the corner and flips open his laptop, completely unbothered by the holes you’re burning into his head. Oh, you were pissed.

Meanwhile, Aizawa starts a small timer to see how long you two could keep this up. Him mercilessly teasing you and you trying to get him in bed.

His inbox hadn’t even pulled up yet when you casted a shadow over him, and to his surprise, you shamelessly shoved your hand in his pants.

Aizawa hisses when your warm hand squeezes his cock experimentally, leaning back on his chair to look at you.

“You asshole, you’re so hard!” You gasp, fingers ghosting over his member in awe. “And you have the gall to ignore me like this?!”

Well, experiment over then. He barely lasted five seconds.

After that incident, you caught on to how he liked to deny you pleasure and worked out some counterattacks.

One of your favourite methods would definitely be that one time you made plans with some other guy and dressed up so scantily (knowing you wouldn’t go out like that anyways) before casually walking past his desk in the corner, telling him where you were going without a care.

As soon as your hand touched the door, the telltale tug of his capture weapon would wrap around your waist and pull you back through the air and into his arms. He’d think he won the battle when he’d grumble, pinch your hips and kiss you fervently, but baby, you’d won the war.

Plus it made for some smoking roleplay.

Beyond that, he will never use his capture weapon on you. Aizawa does not want to mix work and pleasure, and he surely doesn’t want to use the same rope he uses on scummy villains on you.

He’s tried bondage and the like on you per your coaxing (you freak), but it’s never really struck him. He wants your hands all over him as much as his are all over you, and he’d want to hear you moan and pant than to gag you.

His favourite positions are anything where you can see each other’s eyes.

As soon as you get him on the bed, you have the most mind-numbingly sensual sex ever.

Even better aftercare. You take turns running your hands in each other’s hair, bodies pressed comfortably against each other in a way that isn’t insanely hot and overbearing.

Aizawa loves loves loves the way your hand caresses his face, his forearms, down his chest. Just touch him. If that counts as a kink then that’s his damn kink.

You love how soft and frequent his kisses are. Mornings after he’d wake you up with kisses all over your shoulders, down your back, up until he nips at a particular hotspot that makes you jolt every. Damn. Time.

You chase him out of bed before crashing again, too sore to follow him out of the room.

However, Aizawa always returns to kiss you deeply, whispering about how much he loves you before he heads out to face the day.

“Love you Shouta!” You yell after his retreating figure, a satisfied smirk on your swollen lips as you sink back into the cool pillows.

Shinsou Hitoshi

Bless this insecure baby with your sexual prowess please. Because he’s so lost it’s not even funny.

Shinsou doesn’t quite know how you two went from being nervous and apprehensive around each other to a random make out session behind some bushes.

You began to date too, but after that whole ordeal, Shinsou didn’t know how to approach you about the lack of intimacy.

Don’t get him wrong, he liked you a lot, but since the ‘bush incident’ he didn’t want you to think that that’s all he saw you as. So he kept his hands to himself.

You knew exactly what he was doing so one day, you mustered up the courage to walk over to him on the couch, throw a pack of condoms in his lap and ask him to fuck you.

He was smirking but he was also blushing.

“These are the wrong size…” He sighs after examining the box, scratching the back of his head self consciously. “I guess I’ll go buy some and come back?”

“Y-yeah, sure thing. Cool. Yup.”

Before Shinsou could walk out, he turns back towards you and presses a quick peck on your lips before rushing out faster than the first time. “I’ll be back soon.”

Shinsou left you there flustered for two reasons. One: he just kissed you for the first time and your heart had melted into a pile of goo at your feet. Two: the condoms were the wrong size. Meaning you either bought ones that were too big or too small.

Shinsou returns to see you fanning your red face, half an idea on what the reason may be. He walks over to you and bends down, hand outstretched to show you the label on the box with a sly grin.

Sweet carrots you’d underestimated him badly.

You were on each other worse than that time behind the bushes.

Relatively speaking, Shinsou was quite hesitant the first time around and kept asking you if it was okay to do something. Maybe because he wanted to be sure he wasn’t taking advantage of you in any way. Precious.

You kept reassuring him, kissing him every time he doubted himself, and eventually he got comfortable enough to go at it.

Shinsou doesn’t mind if you switch between dominating him and letting him dominate you, although he preferred dominating you for sure.

Shinsou is kinky af.

His favourite thing during sex is blindfolding despite being against it at first.

“Do you trust me?” you whisper, your bare chest pressing onto his as you hug him, your knees on either side of him. “Because I trust you, Hitoshi.”

“Ah, you had to go on say that,” he chuckles against your shoulder, before placing a chaste kiss. “Isn’t that sweet.”

Let’s just say Shinsou is a bit more open after that.

His favourite positions include anything that doesn’t involve getting behind you.

His stamina and sex drive are fair, but you can get him going again with the right nudge. He’s not loud but you are.

Honestly would take you anywhere and everywhere. Once you’ve opened up his eyes, he’s bold enough to pick you up when your digging in the fridge and bend you over the kitchen counter.

Aftercare is pretty decent. He’ll help clean-up and take a shower with you. Nay to shower sex, yay to heavy make out session.

You always wake up the morning after to find him awake and watching you. Shinsou smiles sheepishly at you when you raise a tentative brow, before kissing your nose.

“I know what you’re thinking, it’s not creepy when it’s your boyfriend doing it.”

“Suuuuure.”

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou is a complicated person, and you of all people knew that better than most.

He always wanted people to get to the point and let their actions speak. So when one day you two were hanging out, your relationship established enough to comfortably talk without judgement (more him than you obviously), he randomly stated that you two needed to bang each other soon.

You blink comically, noting that your explosive boyfriend was dead serious before you laughed. What the hell was wrong with him?

Bakugou jumps on your lap, thoroughly offended and wondering the same thing about you. You barely had a second to react to your new position when he roughly threw you on his bed and smashed his hot mouth on yours.

Like who were you to deny him after that.

A few minutes of heated making out and ripping clothes off each other later, he stopped to lean over his nightstand and pull a brand new box of condoms out.

You run your hands up and down his bare forearms, squeezing his muscles appreciatively as you watch him rip the pack open.

Bakugou was seriously planning this for weeks.

As he pulled one out, the weight of the situation dawned on him. He looks down and sees you peering up at him expectantly, looking absolutely precious to him in just your undergarments.

“Do you love me?”

Your heart breaks a little when his hands fall to his sides, discarding the condoms on the bed to climb off of you, before dropping his head in his hands. “Of course I do, I wouldn’t have been reduced to this so easily if I wasn’t.” You joke, placing your hand on his arm. When he doesn’t budge, you sigh dramatically before crawling onto his lap and squishing his cheeks together. When his crimson eyes lock on yours, you smile fondly at him. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou leans in and kisses you softly, arms snaking around your waist to pull you as close as humanly possible. You run your fingers through his hair when you pull away, staring into his eyes in a wordless promise of always loving him, and when the tension in his face drops and he smiles, he pushes you back down again, this time slow and gentle.

Your first time with Bakugou is soft. As usual, he manages to make you fall in love with him a little more.

Bakugou cherished everything about you but…hot damn…

His sex drive skyrocketed immensely.

It’s a given that his stamina was off the charts, wayyy more than you could handle, but oh god, you would deal with the soreness in the morning just fine, all you wanted was to be dominated by him.

The only time he’d leave you to take charge was if it ended with you in between his legs.

Most definitely is a praise whore. Call him your hero or your king, or tell him he’s doing so well - his reaction is always priceless. He’ll smirk so smugly, leaning in to whisper dirty talk with half lidded eyes on some days or throw his head back and moan like a horny person who’d discovered themselves for the first time on others.

It’s a given that this guy smells like caramel, and whenever you go at it harder than usual and he sweats more you get hungry.

Always ask to get food after the workout having sex.

Baby boy doesn’t like to spoil you so you have to get creative in order to convince him.

Whenever Bakugou is in the mood, he’d bug you until you caved.

You’re reading a book when Bakugou decides to sit down next to you on the couch and throws his hand over the back. He fiddles with his phone a bit, before peeking towards you to see you completely engrossed in that book. He clicks his tongue in irritation before slapping the book out of your hands. You blink a few times, staring at your palms before shifting your icy gaze at him, and when he shoots you a meaningful look and tilts his head in the direction of the bedroom, you sigh at his antics before getting up to follow him.

You made sure to thoroughly tease him for it though.

Bakugou likes tying you up in the beginning but he’ll always release you halfway so you could make use of your lovely hands. You absolutely cannot tie him up though as he hates the anxiety of being helpless (PTSD from the kidnapping and the sludge villain incident).

You get a little goofy and laugh. He glares at you. You stick your tongue out at him and tell him to bite you. He does just that and tells you to put your tongue back in or he’d take that as an invitation.

He still takes it as an invitation. That liar.

His favourite position would have to be anything where he could grab your ass.

Unfortunately, the only aftercare Bakugou would do is kiss you goodnight before rolling over and falling asleep.

Giving you a chance to slip away and get something to eat! Yay!

Mornings after though, you guys indulge in some long pillow talk, his fingers stroking your lower back through the sheets. You lean in, pushing his hair back to kiss his forehead, when he grunts and pulls you closer.

“I’m going to need a real kiss too.”

Whoooop first NSFW, am I supposed to feel thirsty about them too? No?

Let me know what you think.

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shoot-i-messed-up · 5 years

Text

Lightning Strikes Wherever It Wants To

A/N: uhhhh so I’m prob gonna make a new writing project. This is a one shot that I had basically had a vauge idea for and word vomited across a document. I think this is rather cute, but idk i just wanna sleep forever asdklsdfkl

Tropes/Pairings: LAMP/CALM, Soulmates/Soultats AU (because I’m a sucker for these)

Summary: Virgil has three soulmates and three soultats. This is no big deal. But what is a big deal is that one of Virgil’s soultats, written in fancy cursive across his left arm, is “I will find you and kill you”. Not the best soultat out there.

TW: Murder mention (I guess but it’s super lowkey), worrying (also lowkey)

Virgil Sanders

Virgil has three soulmates and three soultats. This is no big deal. But what is a big deal is that one of Virgil’s soultats, written in navy blue angular scratches across his left arm, is “My name is Logan Ackroyd, and I swear I will find you and kill you.” Not the best soultat out there. Especially not for a worried little Virgil.

Virgil’s other soultats were pretty normal. Most everyone tried to specialize their first words to someone, in case that someone was their soulmate. Everyone else simply included their name in their first words. So Virgil knew one of his soulmate’s names already. This happened to be the same soulmate that wanted to kill him.

Virgil was not looking forward to meeting this Logan Ackroyd.

On his chest lay another soultat. In cute, neat handwriting and sky blue ink, said, “The heart follows blindly, which is appropriate because I need to wear glasses.” Virgil loved looking at this one. The bad pun always cheered him up.

Scrawled in fancy red cursive across his right arm was: “As long as I live, I will protect my soulmates, whoever they may be.” Cliche but not out there.

Not out there like “My name is Logan Ackroyd, and I swear I will find you and kill you.”

Patton Hart

Virgil would’ve grumbled and complained if he hadn’t been so nervous. Every year, there was an assembly at his school where every single person would say something into a microphone in case their soulmate was in the audience.

This assembly was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it took time away from actually doing work, and you could potentially find your soulmate. On the other hand, it was mind numbingly boring, and the teachers never let them bring anything in to entertain themselves with.

Most students snuck in their phones or homework anyways.

That year, Virgil forgot to.

Virgil was about raised his hand to ask if he could go to the bathroom, when he heard a cheerful voice say into the microphone, “The heart follows blindly, which is appropriate because I need to wear glasses.”

Virgil inhaled sharply and instinctively said back, “Lightning strikes where it wants to.”

Students’ heads perked up, and parted so that the owner of the voice could run to his soulmate. There was usually a soulmate meeting every once in a few years, and it was usually the highlight of the week.

The boy at the microphone ran towards Virgil with his arms wide, and they embraced.

Roman Noble

Patton Hart was the best soulmate Virgil could ever ask for. He didn’t see why he needed to meet his other soulmates. Especially the one that wanted to kill him.

But Patton insisted that Virgil meet Patton’s other soulmate. There was a good chance that they had the same soulmates, so Patton argued it was worth a shot.

But Patton didn’t need to argue, since he used his puppy eyes. Never before did Virgil think he would be prone to puppy eyes. But here he was, in the cold, after school, waiting for Patton to find this “Roman” guy he had been gushing over.

Virgil checked his phone’s clock. He had waited for about two minutes, but he felt very awkward standing by himself with no visible reason to be there. Virgil looked around the hall, decked with Christmas decorations, despite being a public school. He spotted an art club poster in one of the windows. Interested, he took a few steps closer to read it.

“As long as I live, I will protect my soulmates, whoever they may be,” someone quickly recited.

Virgil froze as someone grabbed his arm.

“Hello!” his second soulmate beamed at him. “Are you here for the art club?”

“Roman!” Patton yelled from a distance. “There you are!” He half jogged over. “I’ve been looking all over for you, kiddo!” Patton then noticed Virgil and gave him a funny look.

“Sorry, padre,” Roman grinned, not looking sorry in the least.

“Oh, you’ve met Virgil!” Patton said.

“What?” Roman said.

“Lightning strikes where it wants to,” Virgil said weakly. And before he knew it, Roman had dramatically dipped him.

And before he knew it, he had fallen in love with Roman Noble’s goofy grin.

Logan Ackroyd

Logan had little interest in meeting his soulmates. Well, no more than other people. Some were obsessed with them, but others were more…”chill” with their soultats.

Honestly, he was really more interested in the book he was currently reading. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie. He was originally drawn to this book because he had the same last name as the man who was apparently murdered. Agatha Christie was also a well renowned author, which he learned after he read the book for the first time.

It had been a long day of infuriating classmates, awkward introductions, group projects that certainly did not go well, and unpacking his many boxes that he didn’t unpack on moving day, so Logan was relieved to finally surround himself in familiar text. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor with book in hand, and if he was stopped...well...it would suffice to say that he would be a little mad.

Immersed in his book, he didn’t look where he was going in the busy halls of students rushing to get out of the school.

Virgil glanced at the clock, anxious for the school day to be over. He wanted to rush out the door to get to his club. Art club was the best. They were a close knit bunch of kids with very similar interests. And he met one of his soulmates there. So that was a plus.

Virgil’s knee bounced as he scribbled the homework down on his agenda. The English teacher was just finished wrapping up the lesson as the final bell run. Virgil hurriedly stuffed his remaining things into his backpack, zipped it up, and hustled out the door just behind his classmates. He sped walked down the halls to find G-8. In doing so, he stumbled over one of the other students. The student dropped their book, and a different student swiftly picked it up and ran. The student yelled in frustration, “MY NAME IS LOGAN ACKROYD, AND I SWEAR I WILL FIND YOU AND KILL YOU.”

Virgil stopped dead in his tracks, just about to reach G-8. His eyes widened, just like a deer in headlights, and his shoulders stiffened. “Lightning strikes wherever it wants to?” he squeaked out.

Logan clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. “Oh, apologies. I didn’t really mean it...Greetings, I suppose,” he said.

Virgil shakily smiled.

“Hi.”

@max-is-tired

#lightning strikes wherever it wants to #simu writing #lamp/calm #analogical #moxiety #prinxiety #sanders sides #fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #soulmates au #soultats #tw murder mention

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pottercrew · 6 years

Note

Hello, gorgeous! I'd love to see what you do in the setting ASSIGNMENT, with the factors 1. AUROR PARTNERS, 2. SHARING SLEEPING SPACE and 3. FIRST TIME (talking their past history through and making amends). I leave it to your choice if it ends in something NSFW *wiggles eyebrows*. I hope you have fun with this one!

Ahhh thank you so much for this prompt aha. It was challenging in some ways because I find it really difficult to write angst, I don’t know why but I never know what to put ahahaha. But I loved writing these two opening up to each other. I got a bit carried away and wrote a crap load aha. I hope you don’t mind. I was going to make it NSFW but in the end I didn’t think it fit so I took ti out aha. I’m so sorry it took so long, uni has been kicking my arse lol. I am also sorry if the dialogue is somewhat lacking, I really have a problem writing it and it frustrates me ahahaha.

I hope you enjoy! Xxx

“Spit it out Potter” Malfoy sighed and Harry blinked and looked away in embarrassment. He should have known that Malfoy would see, Malfoy notices everything. But he couldn’t help himself, it was hard, trying to ignore the thick black lines across Malfoy’s skin. He had tried, the months they had been partnered together, he really had. But it was easier to ignore it in an office with mountains of paperwork between them. Here, in a muggle bed and breakfast on a stake out sitting besides one another was a whole other matter.

This was not their first assignment together, but it was the first overnight one. Glasgow was a known hotspot for smugglers and the ministry had deemed them good for the job, so, here they were watching for their targets behind charmed windows, waiting. They were ordered not to do anything. Just chart the comings and goings from the building across the street.

It wasn’t a hard task, in fact it was mind numbingly dull, that’s probably why Harry’s eyes had wandered over to his partner and subsequently the dark mark which stood out on Malfoy’s pale skin.

“What was it like?” He knew his voice was close to a whisper but he couldn't bring himself to talk about it normally. This wasn't a normal conversation.

“What was what like?” Malfoy mumbled, looking away from him towards the building opposite. The moonlight bathed his features, adding shadows to his haunted expression.

They were sat in two uncomfortable wooden chairs, that were found by the dressing table on the other side of the room, supplies laid out on the window sill before them, looking into the street below. Malfoy picked at the parchment in front of him, waiting for Harry’s response.

Harry looked everywhere before answering, at the only bed in the room- something that had lead to an awkward conversation about sleeping in shifts- to the door that lead to the ensuite painted a horrid orange colour that did not match the decor of the room at all, then finally landing back on his partner.

“Getting it?” he knew he didn't need to specify what 'it’ was.

Malfoy sighed heavily but he did not look at him and Harry wasn’t sure whether that made it easier or not.

“Painful Potter, this isn't a badge of honour you know, at least, it wasn't for me. It's a brand, a mark of ownership. It's there to remind you not to fail and who you belong to” Malfoy took a deep breath before continuing. “I thought it was an accomplishment at first, but it wasn’t, I heard him tell me father that I belonged to him now, that the only Malfoy heir was now his”

Harry felt disgust rise in his throat, not at Malfoy, but at his father and his involvement with Voldemort, at everything he put his family through. He knew Malfoy wasn’t innocent, knew that he wasn’t just the product of his father’s failings but that didn’t mean he deserved to be treated like a piece of meat. Like a bargaining chip.

“And then I failed him” Malfoy’s voice was quiet, like he was scared to carry on.

“Malfoy-you don’t, I’m sorry I asked. I shouldn’t have brought it up” Harry rushed, not wanting Malfoy to re-live whatever happened that night. He knew Voldemort, knew what happened to those who had failed him.

“Don’t you think it’s time though?” Malfoy turned towards him, watching Harry with eyes almost black. “We’re partners now Potter, responsible for the other’s life. Don’t you think it’s time we spoke about these things?”

“Yes but-”

“But what Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was quiet “If I were anyone else-”

“NO!” Harry snapped, surprising even himself with the force behind his words “It’s got nothing to do with that”

“Then what?” Malfoy asked, exasperated.

Harry swallowed, he knew Malfoy was right, that it was irresponsible of them to keep skittering around the past. But a part of Harry knew that once this door was open, he wouldn’t be able to stop. The past would come pouring out of him until he was left open and vulnerable and he didn’t know if he was fully prepared for it.

Especially not on an assignment.

But part of him wanted to talk about it, was relieved that someone other than Ron or Hermione wanted to talk about it. It didn’t matter that Malfoy had been on the other side, he knew what happened, had experienced the war like he had.

If Harry was honest with himself, he had been waiting for this conversation. Not only for the reasons Malfoy pointed out, but for the fact that he and Malfoy should be friends, should they not? If they are working together? Plus they knew the same people, hung around in similar social circles most of the time. Wouldn’t it just make it easier if they got everything out in the open and tried to sort through it.

There was something else, something deeper that Harry had tried to overlook ever since he and Malfoy had been partnered together. He wanted to like Malfoy, he wanted to spend time out of work with him, get to know him, become close friends. He had seen glimpses of it, their senses of humour complementing each other more times than not, their personalities matching too. They wouldn’t have made it this far into working together if they didn’t...would they?

Harry wasn’t stupid however, he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded, knew that they both needed to hear some hard truths from the other, knew that they had to come to an understanding, something that everyone that knew them would say was an impossibility.

Harry didn’t end the conversation like he knew he should. Instead, he leaned back on his chair and faced Malfoy. “Alright”

“Alright?”

“Alright as in yes, we should talk about it”

Malfoy looked out of sorts for a moment before nodding. They both turned back towards the street, they still had a job to do and it was a good thing both of them were good a multitasking.

“Where should we start?”

Harry took a deep breath. He didn't know and that was the problem. The problem with the two of them, the history they shared was too complex and long to discuss in one night. It was ridiculous really, for all the stuff they had to talk about, it could take weeks and that’s without the arguments that would probably happen.

“I-I don't know” Harry sighed.

Malfoy pursed his lips for a second before he asked “What about the war?”

“Straight in there I see” Harry snorted “Though I guess we should get the worst over with” he conceded.

“Ask me then Potter-wait” Malfoy squinted “You see him?”

Harry looked down and nodded, his quick notes quill moving in front of him describing the man’s characteristics.

“What was it like, having him there?” He knew he didn't need to specify. He saw Malfoy tense. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. He kept his eyes trained on the man entering the building, then at the door as it swung shut.

“What do you think it was like?” his tone wasn’t harsh like Harry had expected, it was quiet. “It was hell” he let out, Harry still didn’t look at him and was sure Malfoy was grateful for that. “It was no longer my families home, it was his. He took it, it wasn’t offered to him and my mother and father couldn’t do anything about it. I knew my father thought that it would help keep him in Voldemort’s esteem. I didn’t, in fact it gave him more to ridicule my father about, as well as using us to keep him in line. But that’s the price you pay I guess, to have power. Not that my father had a lot of that by that time”

Harry nodded, knowing Malfoy would notice it. He carried on “I tried to stay away from it as much as possible, when I realised that...that I was wrong- that he was wrong. Severus-” He broke off and Harry had to bite his lip at the wave of emotion that passed through him. It still wasn’t easy to hear the names of those that had died and if hearing the name of his old potions professor hurt him, then he knew it must be excruciating for Malfoy.

“Severus warded my rooms as well as he could, as well as my Mother’s” At Harry’s raised eyebrow Malfoy scoffed “It’s common for pureblood couples to have separate wings in their house, of course they have a shared bedroom but they have others as well. Anyway, Severus did all he could but he couldn’t stay at the manor all the time” Malfoy stopped “Those were the worst times” His voice sounded as if he was far away.

Harry looked down at his parchment “I always thought-before this- that his followers would be respectful towards each other in his presence” Harry said quietly.

Malfoy snorted “His presence made it worse. All they did was clambour over each other for his attention and his praise, like children. He’d encourage it sometimes, the in fighting. It was something to keep him occupied when torturing others got bored”.

“Oh” Harry said simply. He had no idea and he couldn’t stop the question as it flew from his lips “Did they hurt you?”

Malfoy let out a sharp laugh “Why Potter? Is your hero complex kicking in?” He drawled, but Harry could see the anger under the surface.

“No!” Harry snapped “I just- it’s in the past now so there’s nothing I can do, I just wanted to ask”

Malfoy was quiet for a moment and Harry was scared he had ruined it already, they hadn’t even been talking for ten minutes! But he had to ask, he had to know. He needed to know.

“Yes” He said and Harry froze, breath stuck in his throat as his fears were answered before he could answer Malfoy was carrying on. He spoke quickly, obviously wanted to get this bit over and done with. “They came in groups sometimes, mainly Greyback and others. They-they obviously thought it would be entertaining to torture the ‘little lord of the manor’ as they put it” Malfoy had a scowl on his face now, but something gleamed in his eyes, something vengeful “It was just spells at first, just little hexes and charms, but it changed. For all that they spoke about wizards being the greater people, they were very quick to resort to physical violence”

Harry’s vision swam with images that he did not want to see. His mind was everywhere, picturing thousands of ways Malfoy could have been hurt. He didn’t want to see them and as much as he had said it was in the past, he wanted to go back in time and find each of those wizards, he wanted-

“Potter!” Malfoy’s voice was sharp and Harry snapped back into himself. He looked around it surprise and saw that Malfoy’s legs were covered in ink. Harry’s quill had exploded. He felt it on his face.

“Shit sorry” He rushed, pushing his parchment out of the way of a rather large puddle of ink running across the window sill. He avoided looking at Malfoy. He could feel his face heating. “I’ll go and get-”

He didn’t finish, just got up and went to the horrid orange door.

He was such an idiot! Why did his magic have to play up now?

He grabbed a bright blue flannel that sat upon the two towels in the bathroom and ran it under cold water. He squeezed it. He found that actually cleaning up stuff did a far better job than magically cleaning it.

As he squeezed the cloth, he looked at himself. There were black spots all over his face and a few on his jumper. He cursed and ran the cloth quickly over his face, before rinsing it and heading back into the room.

Malfoy was looking down at his ink stained robes and Harry hoped that they weren’t too expensive, though, knowing Malfoy they probably were.

However, when Harry came closer to try and clean the mess, he caught a small smile on Malfoy’s face before it vanished.

“I thought you had control over your magic?” He asked, no trace of anger in his voice. Harry felt the ball of panic ease from his chest. Malfoy wasn’t mad, he knew it was an accident. Though it didn’t make it less embarrassing that he had lost control over the thought of Malfoy getting hurt. That hadn’t happened before. In fact, he could remember dozens of times in Hogwarts he had wished Malfoy harm.

But… there was a difference between school boy harm and coming to harm from adults. Harry could only imagine the things that Malfoy had to suffer at the hands of death eaters in his home.

“I’m sorry” He said again, not sure whether he was apologising for the ink or for what Malfoy had had to go through. When Malfoy didn’t respond, Harry wiped down the window sill. “I do have control over my magic, sometimes it acts up” He shrugged.

“Sometimes it acts up?” Malfoy asked incredulously. “Magic doesn’t just act up Potter”

“Well it does for me” Harry sighed. There was no point in getting defensive, he knew it was true. He knew there were issues with his magic that others didn’t have. “Do you want me to?” He asked, gesturing at Malfoy’s robes.

“No, it’s okay” Malfoy said, waving his wand and they both watched as the black stains vanished from the blue fabric. Harry was immensely glad that they didn't have to wear their auror robes for stake outs. “I think that we should do this differently” Malfoy suggested.

Harry breathed out and sunk into his chair, vanishing the ink stained cloth as he did “Differently how?”

“Take turns” Malfoy responded, looking down into the street “I tell something, you tell something, it would make it easier I think” He reached into his satchel on the floor and pulled out another quill and handed it to Harry.

Harry pondered this for a moment. It would make it easier, a bit less stressful. It also gave a way to move on from situations easier.

“Okay”

“Your turn then” Malfoy said, his voice too high from it’s normal pitch.

“I died” Harry felt himself blurt, and he clenched his fists as he realised what he had just said. But this is what they were doing right? This sharing thing. He heard Malfoy take a sharp breath. It wasn’t common knowledge that he did actually die. The ministry didn’t want the idea of an immortal wizard being spread round, not that he was. So they had lied, had said that Harry had only pretended to die, that Voldemort’s spell hadn’t hit him properly due to his weakened state and that his followers only saw what they hoped they saw. “That night, in the forest”.

“I...” Malfoy seemed to hesitate “My mother told me...about it...she said that you died, that the Dark Lord didn’t miss-cast” Malfoy’s voice was quiet and neither of them spoke as another wizard entered the building they were watching, just scrawled down the time and the appearance of the man.

Harry spoke once he put down his quill. “I can’t go near forests now” He said quietly, he didn’t know why he was telling Malfoy this,this wasn’t something that telling him would help. “They remind me of it”. He hasn't told anyone that, not Ron and Hermione, or Luna.

“I’m sorry” Malfoy looked at him then, an expression that Harry couldn’t read.

“You didn’t kill me” Harry responded.

They were silent and Harry knew Malfoy was trying to think of something to say. Harry leaned back in his chair, there was a weird feeling in his chest that had him shifting. It wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact he found he liked it, like something was lifting from his shoulders. He wondered whether Malfoy had the same feeling.

“What did it feel like?” Malfoy almost whispered, looking down at his parchment.

Harry didn’t even flinch at the question, he learned not to when most of the Weasley’s kept asking him.

“I can’t remember” He said truthfully. “I remember afterwards, thinking that I’ll never forget the feeling, that the feeling of the spell hitting me would stay with me, but those thoughts are the only things I remember.”

“I suppose that a good thing” Malfy said after a pause. “It means it’s not something that you will constantly be reminded of, at least, if you can’t remember the feeling, then it’s easier to ignore?”

“I suppose” Harry answered surprised at how true the statement was.

“I knew it was you, in the manor” Malfoy murmured, rolling his quill through his fingers “I knew it was you before I saw Weasley and Granger”

“I...I know” Harry admitted. “It was part of the reason I testified at your trial” They were getting into difficult topics now, not that the ones before weren’t, but these, these were directly about the two of them.

“Of course you did” Malfoy muttered and he too leant back in his chair. “Why did you do it? Save me?” The last two words were accompanied by an eye roll that Gin would be proud of.

“I didn’t do it for me” Harry snapped “I did it because I didn’t think you deserved Azkaban, not like-”

“My father” At Harry’s look Malfoy rushed “I don’t blame you to be honest Potter, he did deserve it” The did hung in the air like a bad smell. Lucius died two years ago, a heart attack the Prophet had said.

“I’m sorry”

“I’m not” Malfoy said, grey eyes staring into Harry’s “I never did thank you for your owl” Harry felt his face heat at that.

“You didn’t have to” He had sent Malfoy an owl the night he had found out, the letter had held a simple apology, and tied to the owls leg, Harry had included a bottle of his finest firewhiskey, a ticket to one of London’s Wreck Rooms and a small note to enjoy himself. Harry had at first, thought it had been a bad idea, but then he remembered Parkinson’s story of how Malfoy used to smash things in the common room when upset. A thing they had in common it seemed, though Harry had favored Dumbledore's office. It wasn’t healthy and Harry had grown out of it, hoping Malfoy had too.

They continued to stare at each other before the sound of a car beeping its horn blared through the window. They both looked down and Harry snorted at the sight of one of the wizards coming out of the building flicking the driver off.

Malfoy jotted it down and Harry watched his long slim fingers as he did so.

“Malfoy-”

“Draco” Malfoy cut in, still writing, “I think it’s time we ditched the last names do you...Harry?”

Harry shivered at the sound of his name falling from Malfoy’s lips, the first time without scorn or sarcasm. It sounded...hopeful and suddenly, Harry’s want for him and Malfoy to become friends was beginning to look like a reality.

“Okay...Draco”. A smile broke out on Mal-Draco’s face, before he looked down at his parchment again.

Soon, they were both firing out words that related to the war at each other. Draco focusing on what Harry had been doing while hunting horcruxes, and Harry’s on what Draco had been doing before the war, his home life with Voldemort, his friends, his family. It was definitely uncomfortable, but refreshing, seeing the other talk about the war that wasn’t his friends. Seeing from, not exactly the other side, but a view he wasn’t there for.

Harry learnt about Draco’s routine while at home with Voldemort, learnt that he liked to sketch while in his rooms, looking out at the manor grounds. He learnt that Draco hated peacocks but loved crups and had buried his father’s in the grounds after they had been used for target practice by his aunt.

Draco also learnt about Harry, not the chosen one. He learnt how scared Harry had been when he had found the fake horcrux with Dumbledore, that he had been there when Draco had disarmed him and when Snape had killed him. He told Draco about the connection he had shared with Voldemort, something he had been banned from telling anyone else by the ministry, which Draco also learnt about, something that he was not happy about, but understood why.

They spoke about the train ride in 6th year, the room of requirement during the battle. The fear they had both felt as the heat from the flames licked their skin. Harry found out that Draco and his friends had gone to Crabbes funeral, to find that they were the only ones there. Had seen the emotion behind those grey eyes as he recounted the moments when his body was lowered into the ground.

Harry’s head hurt, not because of the things he was learning, though they certainly didn’t help, but because of the constant shifts his mind was going through. Things he thought were fact shifted into fiction and black holes started to be filled as Draco kept talking.

Once neither could think of anything more to say, they both sat there, staring at each other, not bothering to look down at the building anyone as everyone they had seen enter had left hours ago.

Harry couldn’t help himself as he asked “Do you maybe-um want to go for a drink after this?” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry instantly felt panic. “I mean, if it’s okay”

“Right after?” Draco asked, a small smile on his lips that had Harry relaxing immediately.

“Maybe not right after”

“Tomorrow night?” Draco asked and Harry felt excitement run through him and he couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his own face.

“Sure”

Harry left out a sigh of relief as they left Robard’s office. It had been an easy sign off. The reports were neatly written up, thanks to Draco, who had done them apparently during his shift when Harry was sleeping, which lead to the meeting being no time at all as Robards had read through the writing and added sections of it to his own files. The Glasgow case was moved now to the unspeakables as they had the permit to search the premises without a warrant.

“Well then” Draco said, his grey eyes intense as they never left Harry’s “I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yeah, should I meet you there or?” Harry felt like an idiot, but honestly he had never been out drinking with anyone quite like Draco Malfoy. What did they do now? Did they swap phone numbers? Did Draco even have a phone? It shouldn’t be this hard should it?

“Or what?” Draco asked.

“Forget I said that” Harry rushed “I-”

“I’ll meet you there at eight” Draco cut in, his eyes never leaving Harry’s.

It was the first time in his life that Harry felt grateful for Draco’s straight forwardness.

“Okay”

They smiled at each other before saying goodbye and heading off towards in different directions. Harry couldn’t believe it, he was going for a drink with Draco Malfoy and if anyone was to say that they saw Harry Potter madly rushing towards the floo’s with a grin on his face, they were surely seeing things.

The pub was blessedly nearly empty when Harry pushed the door open at exactly eight o’clock that night, hands cold from standing out in the alley opposite for the last thirty minutes from being there too early. He should have used the floo but he knew that he would have gone sparse waiting in his flat for the right time to leave. It was better for him that he left an hour early, not for his hands but for his nerves, it gave him time to think. Plus, he couldn’t just walk in an hour early, not like Draco would be there to see it but it seemed ridiculous to be there an hour early, just sitting there on his own so he had taken a walk around Hogsmeade to clear his head.

He shook his hands to alleviate the stinging from the heat of the pub and on reflection thought it would have been a good idea to bring gloves. Did he even own gloves? Hoary couldn't remember the last time he had worn any, let alone owned any. He’ll have to go buy some, it wouldn’t go down well at the Burrow if he was to turn up, hands nearly purple from cold. On that thought he should probably buy a scarf and a hat as well.

By the time he had reached the bar, he had compiled a list of necessities he should ‘probably’ buy and promptly shoved the list to the back of his mind to be forgotten as he ordered his drink. Should he buy Draco one so that he had one when he came in? Or would that be presumptuous? What if Draco didn’t like what he ordered? Then what. So instead he took his Doom Bar and made his way to one of the back empty tables near the fire. A perfect spot for watching the door while acting like he wasn’t watching the door.

He checked his watch and saw that it was only two minutes past eight and told himself that he shouldn’t worry that Draco wasn’t here. He really didn’t know what to expect from tonight's outing. What if they just sat there in silence? What if Draco thought Harry wanted to get him drunk to sleep with him? Harry coughed as that though went through his mind. What if Draco thought that!

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t hate the idea of sleeping with Draco, in fact he found he quite liked it but it wasn’t his intention tonight. In fact it wasn’t his intention ever as he knew how disastrous that could end, especially with them being auror partners. He cured his mind for supplying him with that train of thought. Had he started twitching? Why had he started twitching?

“Hello Harry”

Harry snapped his head up to find Draco standing there, a beer on the table and taking his coat off. How had he missed him come in?

“Hi”

“Tell me you didn’t come out without a scarf or gloves” Draco scolded as he slid into his seat, looking at the back of Harry’s chair where Harry’s own coat was folded over it.

“Umm”

Draco rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer “Sorry I’m a bit late, there was an issue with my floo, you haven’t been here long have you?”

“That’s okay and no not really”

“Good, did you want to eat?”

“Maybe later, unless you want to eat now?”

“No i’m fine waiting, I had a large lunch”

“Okay”

“Did you hear about Scott?” Draco asked before taking another sip from his drink “He’s been sacked”

“What?” Harry asked. Callum Scott was what many would call the office ‘dick’ and honestly Harry was happy the bastard was gone “What happened?”

“Got caught taking potions from the evidence locker” Harry didn’t blame the look of glee on Draco’s face at that. Scott has always been one to preach about how it was disgusting how death eaters were allowed to work in the aurors.

“Oh Merlin that is priceless, who caught him?”

Draco’s smile turned into a full on smirk “Shacklebolt”

“No fucking way!”

Draco started to laugh, “He was down there with Robards and Crooker looking through the evidence list when he caught Scott using an undetectable charm”

Harry let out a bark of laughter at that. Of all the people to catch you stealing evidence, Kingsley was the last person you wanted it to be. “How do I not know about this?”

“Blaise told me just before I left, apparently the whole night shift turned up to watch him be arrested”

“I don’t blame them” Harry chortoled as he took a drink of his own glass. He held it up once he finished “To finally getting rid of that prick”

“Here here” Draco smiled, clicking his own to Harry’s and both took a deep drink. Hey shared a smile once they were done.

“Imagine being caught by Shacklebolt...Merlin”

“I know, why he didn’t just act like he was there for an assignment or something I don’t know”

“Right! Of course the Minister for Magic is going to be able to see past a charm like that. Do you know what he was going to do with the potions?” Harry asked.

“Sell them I think Blaise said” Draco answered, shrugging “They’ll get who the buying was out of him in no time though”

“Yeah, they probably will”

Harry finished off his drink and leant back in his chair. He motioned towards Draco’s near empty glass “Want another one?”

“Do you want to order food as well? I don’t really want to drink on an empty stomach”

“Sure, I’ll grab a menu” Harry leaned over to the empty table next to them and swiped the food menu, handing it to Draco.

“Thank you”

They both picked what they wanted and Harry headed up to the bar, ordered and made his way back with their drinks. When he placed the drinks back on the table, there was a slight scowl on Draco’s face.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked sitting down.

“Thank you, yes I just…” Draco stared at his drink before continuing “About this” Draco waved his hand between the two of them “I don’t want it all to be just about the past-I want-I want to be actual friends”

“I do too” Harry responded and he meant it. It was nice, to have someone else to talk to about what had happened but that wasn’t all he wanted this to be. He wanted that dream of him and Draco being friends to come true.

“Oh-okay then”

“Okay”

They stared at each other before Draco left out a huff of laughter “Well that was easy, a lot easier than I thought it was going to be”

“Why?”

“Honestly, because it’s us two and it seems that nothing we ever do turns out to be easy”

“That’s true” Harry nodded smiling “I’m glad though”

“Me too” Draco seemed to relax and sat back in his chair, his fingers circling his glass. “I never thought we’d see the day that we were actually friends”

“Yeah, it is a bit strange but I don’t mind”

The smile on Draco’s face was breathtaking and Harry had to take a drink to distract himself from his partner. Maybe that dream was impossible after all.

I really do have a problem with ending things aha I need to work on it, but I hope you enjoyed and I’m so sorry it took so long and or any typos or grammar mistakes xxx

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lesbioniccommando · 6 years

Text

Despite it all... i rushed through to the end of persona 5. I will say that I thought it ended OK. It ended well. Maybe not amazingly, or dazzlingly, but it was alright. My total playcount was something like.. 117 hours?? I’m not bold enough to claim that something I played that much of sucks, because it was clearly doing some stuff right and I enjoyed myself for the most part. It was just.... ahhhhhh, nuts. Here’s what went wrong.

- Dungeons just... just kinda sucked. I thought the mementos were alright and honestly, the first dungeon was the strongest - the rest of the dungeons ranged from “OK” to “mind-numbingly boring and bad”. The press turn system, as usual, is satisfying, the menus and just general quality of life and style are off the charts . . . like, it PLAYS well. But they don’t give you very good playgrounds to use these systems in, imo. There weren’t many times where I felt like the battles were balanced or in the correct swing of things.. it was either way, WAY too easy or “oops the enemy landed a lucky crit/element weakness and now my entire party/protag is dead”. The dungeons in 3 and 4 weren’t exactly standout moments, but they were serviceable and had some fun puzzles in a few, but here they feel all..... eeeeegh. The navigation puzzles in P5 universally sucked.

- The plot just sorta chugs along. There weren’t as many twists and turns as I was expecting, or at least impactful ones. The first two villains were strong, and it all kinda goes into the crapper after that. It felt very half-baked. The pieces of Persona 5, the ideas, all of it on paper - it’s compelling stuff and they do very, very little with it.

- The main cast is very likable and yet I feel none of them get their dues. There just isn’t time for any of them to stretch their legs, for them to grow or change, for them to develop bonds and intermingle.. the writing just isn’t there. Lots of ‘interesting’ stuff, cool designs and identifiable characters but just no depth. I know this might be expecting a lot of a jrpg, but there just isn’t any agency or player choice here, which is a little gripe.. you’re just going through the motions.

- The characters don’t feel integrated to your struggle at all. While I enjoy the cast of 5 more than 4, they don’t feel like they have much of a reason to stick together and fight as one besides “the plot demands it”. Haru gets hit with this the worst because she gets thrown into the game during the final third, has some /heavy/ shit happen, and then she’s just sorta with you. I know this is to maybe incentivize a second playthrough with new game plus, but it was just about impossible to even get a few rank-ups with her social link with how little time there was left, especially because I had to rank up my social skills. It just had me going.. why’s she here, again? Do the others like her? Do any of my ‘friends’ really like each other? Damn, now this is just real life . . .

- What I mean by that last point is that they just don’t have the characters hang around and gel enough. Show, not tell! Granted, Persona 4 had the luxury of having a ‘golden’ edition where they overstuffed it with social events, so maybe in a year or two when that inevitably happens, I’ll think differently, but.. damn. Just a bummer. I like these kids - I want more with them, and it’s baffling to think I played the game /THIS/ long and it feels like not nearly enough was done with them. Soooooooo underdeveloped. So many of the social links are a whole lotta nothing. But you get neat power ups from them, so that’s neat . . . and the vacations! Big missed opportunity. Except for the lobsters.

- Standard complaints about dodgy localization and shitty writing, homophobia, creep shit, etc. Everyone knows the drill already and has said it better so I won’t bother.

Where they excelled was the soundtrack and style, because of course. I just wish there was more substance to it, if we’re gonna rely on cliches. But maybe the persona series going forward will be in a better place now that the one creep isn’t with the series any more . . ?

#long post #blalblablablalb

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normalforglastonbury · 6 years

Text

A Tranquil Oasis in the Heart of the Somerset Countryside.

James and Tara White got in touch to ask me to write about Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park. I was curious, although the Park is at the foot of the Tor and less than 2.5 miles from Glastonbury Town centre, I had never visited.

While Old Oaks wasn’t quite what I expected, having only experienced ‘glamping’ in a festival context and is certainly not what I’d think of as ‘Normal for Glastonbury’, I was to discover that those things are precisely what recommends it to thousands of visitors, who enjoy its tranquil surroundings and luxurious accommodation. Plus, it’s one of the most eco-friendly businesses in town, driven by James’s obvious passion for biodiversity, wildlife and the natural environment.

I asked James and Tara what they wanted from a post about Old Oaks, they knew that I don’t write straightforward advertorials for the blog, but I am interested in sharing pieces about people’s relationship with Glastonbury Town. It quickly became apparent that their main aim is to forge closer ties with businesses and creative people in Glastonbury. James said “We’ve got customers here, we want to maximise the benefit for the whole local economy”

A Short History of Old Oaks Touring Park

One of the Cedar Lodges at Old Oaks

James’s family have been in the area for “7 or 8 generations”. His grandad bought the 90 acre farm in 1918, and his mum and dad started the park in 1981, with pitches for just 5 vans. In 1987 they were granted a license for 40 pitches. It was a family park for 15 years, but children were often left unsupervised by their parents and would investigate the working farm, putting themselves in danger of falling in the slurry pit, or worse!

In view of this, and the lack of specific activities for children locally, it was decided to make the park a quiet, adults only site. At the same time, campervans and caravans were beginning to replace tents in popularity, so the grass camping pitches, which rapidly became muddy due to the heavy clay soil and frequent rain, were replaced with areas of hardstanding surrounded by generous swathes of lawn.

The Park covers 15 acres and has 100 pitches including 6 camping pods, 4 cedar lodges and 2 shepherd’s huts, with splendid views towards Wells Cathedral and the Mendip Hills. Nowadays, it is managed by James and Tara, although James’s Dad still helps out. James’s Mum and Dad still live next door and his brother Dan runs the farm, which supplies ethically reared beef and lamb to the likes of Stephens Butchers and the park’s own shop.

Years ago I’d heard grumbles from hippies in home-built campers that they’d had a less than friendly welcome from the owner (James’s Dad), so I was interested to discover how James, coming from such a long established local family, feels about the changes in the town.

He tells me that he and his brothers have grown up in (for want of a better word) ‘multicultural’ Glastonbury and he’s seen how many of the more ‘alternative’ in-comers have become part of the local economy. He praises Glastonbury’s wide choice of music, with gigs every night, the different coloured shops and the vibrancy of the town. He feels we don’t make enough of being a year-round destination, despite the fact that many people now take their holidays in every season, particularly loves the Frost Fair and thinks the Carnival should have activities going on all weekend, though he’s embarrassed by the town’s lacklustre Christmas decorations. He tells me their daughter loves Glastonbury and feels really lucky to have been bought up here.

I wonder what it was like for James growing up on a campsite, Tara tells me that when he was a young teenager, and the park still hosted families, he would inevitably check out the girl visitors of a similar age to him, but he’d also check their booking to see if they were staying around for long enough “to make it worth putting in the groundwork”. I can’t help thinking that this sort of forward planning put him in good stead to run a large and successful business. Nowadays James comes across as a very respectable, hardworking chap, but Tara also revealed that he was well known in his twenties, before he started working for the family business, for occasionally “getting naked in the Rifleman’s Arms”.

James and Tara outside one of the Cedar Lodges

In her twenties, Tara would visit her sister who’d already moved to Glastonbury. on most weekends, drinking in the Rifleman’s Arms and finding Glastonbury a refreshing change from ‘Conservative, straight, boring Sussex’, Eventually she realised she was spending most of her earnings as a PA on petrol to travel to and from the town, so decided to move here. She married James 13 years ago, but initially worked outside the family business, including a stint as a waitress in Nick Cottle’s ‘Monarch’ cafe, and then as a PA for Mendip District Council. She hadn’t wanted to get involved in the Park, but got pulled in after realising that PA work was ‘mind-numbingly boring’. She now loves her job, except for the endless paperwork, and shows clear delight in finding ways to offer guests unexpected special touches to make their stay more enjoyable.

James is the Head Gardener on site (as well as all his other jobs) and he proudly pointed out the razor-sharp neatness of the many hedges. I couldn’t help but ask if he was a Virgo, to which he replied: “It’s all a load of nonsense!”. He then had to admit that he is a Virgo and that I was the second person within a week to correctly guess his sun sign. Other people might attribute the success of the park to its being crossed by ley lines, but James leaves me in no doubt that, in his opinion, “there’s no such thing as leylines!” and besides, the park is clearly a product of many long hours of hard graft. Later, when I suggest that I am obviously more ‘cosmic’ than him he surprises me by revealing an interest in Chinese Medicine, because “it actually works!”

A Passion for Biodiversity

James and Tara take me for a walk around the site, the camping areas are in beautifully manicured gardens. I’m not keen on tamed nature as a rule, but there’s a great variety of shrubs, trees and flowers, and there’s a cider apple orchard at the centre of the park, it’s all rather lovely. James points out the plants that have been put in to benefit bees and birds as much as human visitors. Next, we walk through a field which James, true to his commitment to biodiversity and wildlife, is determined to turn into a wildflower meadow. He sowed it last year but wasn’t satisfied with the result, so he’ll be trying different plant varieties this time. Far be it for me to suggest that only a Virgo would demand perfection of a meadow.

Fisher-woman at Old Oaks Pond

There’s a lovely woodland walk through mature trees to the fishing pond, where several people sit quietly and happily casting their lines for tench, carp, roach and chub. Massed lily pads form circles in the centre of the pond, I imagine James wading in and nudging them into these perfect curves, Tara tells me they occurred naturally, but then mentions that James ‘tidies things up a bit’. Emerging from the calm stillness of the pond we come to the large chicken enclosure which provides the Park’s shop with fresh eggs, alongside the old apple orchard, kept to provide a home to wildlife.

Inevitably the subject of the planned bypass to the North of the Tor comes up. James told me he’s not concerned about the bypass affecting business, but he’s been walking the fields that the bypass would cross for his whole life and he’s horrified at the idea of this massive block of beautiful, unspoilt land being destroyed. He says “It will be a fox, badger, deer massacre!” He isn’t too worried, however, as the bypass has been talked about for his whole life, and nothing has happened yet.

You definitely can’t describe James as laid back, he’s clearly got tons of drive and energy and likes to see things done as well as possible. As he says “I don’t do mediocrity”. He’s particularly damning of the flower displays on Glastonbury’s roundabouts, with their single-use tulip bulbs and unimaginative bedding plants that are of no use to butterflies or bees, he has considered sponsoring a roundabout, as long as he gets to design the display with his choice of sustainable and bee friendly plants.

Keen to power the park with as much renewable energy as possible, James designed the beautiful and huge new shower block, with underfloor heating powered by renewable heat pump technology and a massive bank of solar water heaters on the roof. It may be super Green, but it’s also hotel quality. Unlike most campsites I’ve come across you’ll neither get splinters from bare wood or be looking at a whitewashed breezeblock wall while you wash, this place, like the rest of the park, is seriously plush. There are LED light mirror surrounds, hairdryers and high stools, I feel like I’ve wandered into an expensive hair stylist’s studio.

Sustainably powered shower block

Plush showers

Hotel quality facilities

A very hi-tech addition to the park is an emptying and cleaning station for chemical toilets, it’s the size and shape of a vending machine, but definitely doesn’t dispense chocolate bars. Campers drop their toilet cassette into a hatch and it is returned emptied, clean and topped up with eco-friendly toilet fluids. Unlike old-fashioned camping toilet chemicals, the waste can be processed on site, rather than having to be transported to the chemical waste treatment plant in Avonmouth. Their site sewage is processed through their on-site treatment system, before further treatment in the natural Victorian style reed bed system. The next plan is for a compost loo by the fishing lake.

Engaging with the Community and Local Businesses

A walk around the pond

Tara and James’s passion for sustainability doesn’t end with the Green initiatives in the park itself, they want to contribute to the financial sustainability of the town too. It grieves the couple that campsites are often seen as the ‘poor man’s B&B’ as they are supplying a 5-star service and know their visitors make a very significant contribution to the local economy. The average age of their customers is 55, they are towing £25k caravans, or paying equivalent rates to those charged by hotels to stay in the park’s glamping cabins and shepherd’s huts. These are not people packing their own sandwiches and looking for a cheap holiday. The glamping options are proving popular with younger couples looking for something luxurious but a bit different – proving the Old Oaks isn’t just for old folks.

They want to partner with as many local businesses as they can, they have lots of ideas for services that would be of benefit to their visitors. They’d love to work with someone offering bike hire and bike tours of the local area for instance. Tara runs a ‘Glastonbury Tours’ side business providing their campers with minibus transport to local events like the Glastonbury and Bridgwater Carnivals. the Extravaganza and Glastonbury Festival, as well as coaches for locals to events such as Pilton Party and West Fest. This creates a great opportunity for others to offer talks and walks to the campsite guests – like birdwatching on the Nature Reserves of the Avalon Marshes.

The Old Oaks Camping Shop

They often work with Mary from the Abbey Tea Rooms who makes the cakes they sell in their shop. On carnival night they book 3 coaches who ferry campers to and from the town (saving 100 cars from having to drive into and park in the town). Campers go to the Abbey Tea Rooms for a buffet and can stay and watch the carnival from there too.

Another of their initiatives is the ‘Good Food Club’ offering special deals at recommended local eateries to their campers. Also, rather than having their own restaurant on site they chose to partner up with local takeaways who deliver to the site, while I’m there a wood-fired pizza oven is being set up in the courtyard. Their modern and well-stocked shop sells essential supplies, camping goods and a wide variety of local produce – Orchard Pig ciders, Rose Farm preserves, meat from Steve the Butcher on the marketplace and beef, lamb and eggs from the family farm, White’s of Wick, you can’t get more local than that!.

Supporting Local Artists and Craftspeople

Anthony Rogers Sculpture

Local carpenter John Tucker made their first wooden glamping pods, with all the materials being locally sourced. When they found out an old oak tree on the drive was diseased and would have to be cut down they called in Anthony Rogers from Frome to carve it into a beautiful organic, spiralling form.

The first thing you see when you enter the park’s shop is a photograph of the Tor taken by Kev Pearson on two walls and Phil Holly’s locally made stained glass is for sale here too – check out his website Lost in Glass. The shop will soon be stocking Tara’s sister Donna’s beautiful ceramics.

Elsewhere on site, faced with what was a hideous concrete block wall, they commissioned local artist Jon Minshull to paint a huge mural of a Somerset landscape, featuring the Tor and an abundance of local wildlife. I’m blown away by it, it’s spectacular.

Jon also painted the mural on the wall of the Glastonbury Experience Courtyard alleyway, it features Tara’s sister’s naked bottom, painted slightly larger than life.

A Tranquil Retreat in Nature

Walking to the Tor from the Old Oaks

So who stays at the Old Oaks Touring Park? It’s popular with visitors who appreciate quiet, it’s part of ‘Tranquil Parks’, there are no big events, no screaming children and no big groups (as “even the Goddesses make loads of noise”). They don’t offer one night stays before or after Glastonbury festival, as before the event festival goers are hyped up and overexcited, while afterwards they are really just looking for somewhere to wash off the mud. As they explain “it’s not snobbery, it’s just business” they are giving their guests what they want – luxury facilities, glamping and peace and quiet in nature. They must be doing a lot right as they are the overall winners of the AA Campsite of the Year for England 2018 award.

Interior of an Old Oaks Shepherd’s Hut

The facilities are a far cry from my experience of campsites. The glamping options – shepherd’s huts, lodges and cabins, are quirky but luxurious, two even offer a tastefully screened wood-fired outdoor hot tub. The cedar lodges are beautiful and offer wonderful views, plus all that cedarwood smells amazing. For those whose accommodation doesn’t include fitted bathrooms, the park’s original shower block has been refurbished to create individual shower and changing rooms, so you won’t have an audience when you are hoiking your knickers up.

Unusually everything really is as immaculate as the photos in the brochure. I can’t imagine the amount of work that it takes to keep everything so spotlessly clean, tidy and well maintained, an army of elves with invisible brooms is the only logical explanation. Or it could be down to the hard work of the 6 wardens who work in pairs, the 3 cleaners and the apprentice gardener, altogether a staff of ten, plus James and Tara.

Doggie Shower

Tara tells me that the park is very popular with people who want to take their canine friends on holiday. It’s very dog-friendly, with a dog walking area and a fully featured, split level, dog shower, with doggie shampoo. Tara tells me they are getting a dog hairdryer next, I assumed she was joking, but then I saw all the other facilities and decided she probably wasn’t. I imagine a walk through affair, like the final stage of a drive-thru car wash, from which the pampered pooches will emerge with magnificent bouffants.

With the Somerset Levels on the doorstep, it’s an ideal spot for cycle touring. I’d cycled to the Park myself from Benedict Street. I’m not fit enough to tackle the most direct, but very hilly, route up Wellhouse and Stone Down Lanes, so I chose the cycle path along the bypass to West Mendip Hospital and then Brindham Lane and Wick Lane to the Old Oaks. I was surprised at how quick and easy this (virtually) flat route was. For walkers, there are the 15 acres of the park itself, the Tor and many walks into Glastonbury Town and across the Levels.

James and Tara doing the sort of camping they enjoy – at a festival

James and Tara tell me that they are the kind of people who would get into trouble if they were guests in their own park – they like camping with big groups of mates, drinking, partying and festivals. When they go to Glastonbury festival they take their caravan to stay with friends in a backstage camping area. But Tara says “It makes for an easier life when the customers aren’t running around drunk”

I ask them if they have any ‘Normal for Glastonbury’ stories where the peace and quiet were disrupted. James describes an incident with a young guy, probably on magic mushrooms, who alarmed the other campers by running around naked shouting “I am God” and “I’ve seen the light!”. A few years ago another young man, just wearing pants, emerged onto the park scratched and bleeding, having forced his way through the thorny hedgerow, he explained he was “following the leyline”. James remarks wryly “that’s worse than following a sat nav”.

James and his family clearly derive some dry amusement at the antics of some visitors. He tells me they once had a customer who checked out early “because the energy of the earth on the site was too strong”, Another wanted him to wash the pitch as “the previous campers had left negative energy”. James’s dad’s most oft-repeated comment on Glastonbury’s High Street is “We’ve got one butcher, one baker and ever so many candlestick makers”

Tara tells me they want to do something different, exceed expectations, make people go ‘Wow!’. She says “We’re constantly being complimented on our park, how can that not be a nice thing, knowing we’ve provided people with a really memorable holiday?”

If you provide a local service that might be of interest to the users of the park then do get in touch with Tara at [email protected], she’d love to hear from you.

If you are visiting the town and want a truly tranquil experience in nature then I’m sure you will be well looked after, if you are attending a retreat in the town Old Oaks Touring Park would be ideal. Those of us that live here might want to recommend the park to their visiting relatives who love nature but not mud, especially those who’d like to visit Glastonbury but might find some of the quirkier aspects of staying in the town a little alarming!

This post was kindly commissioned and sponsored by James and Tara White of Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park, but the opinions are all mine! Would you like to commission me to write an article about what you do, for Normal For Glastonbury? You’d be reaching thousands of readers who love the Town. Please click here for more information. Would you like to write a piece for Normal For Glastonbury about your experience of the town? Please get in touch.

If you’ve enjoyed reading this blog please subscribe by email, ‘like’ the Normal for Glastonbury facebook page and contribute your own stories and comments, and share my blog and facebook posts (this is really important – it’s how I reach more readers!). See my ’Hire Me’ page if you’d like to pay me to help you with your own projects, you can also check out how to support this blog,

All photographs copyright Old Oaks Touring Park. Text copyright Vicki Steward.

Old Oaks Touring and Glamping Park A Tranquil Oasis in the Heart of the Somerset Countryside. James and Tara White got in touch to ask me to write about

#Accommodation #Biodiversity #Business #Camping #Campsites #Commissioned Post #Cycling #Eco-Friendly #Environment #Glastonbury #Glastonbury Business #Glastonbury Carnival #Glastonbury Town #Landscapes #Somerset #Somerset Levels #Tourism

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perfectlinnamonroll · 7 years

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Just Between Us [Lin-Manuel x Reader]

Summary: Your friend has a brilliant idea how to fix your lack of date to the upcoming wedding.

Word count: 3184 (whaaat?!)

Warnings: cursing, some pretty harsh words directed at the reader, huge amounts of fluff

Author’s notes: Okay, so this my first imagine ever. And first fic in a long, long time. This idea just wouldn’t leave me alone, so I had to get it out. Shoutout to @fragmentofmymind for inspiring me to do this and proofreading the first half. I hope you guys enjoy it!! Just a warning - I’m not a native English speaker, so this might be a little awkward in some places. Sorry!

“Oh God”, you murmured, massaging your temples furiously. This was not happening. How the hell had you gotten yourself into this mess?

Oh, right. It was your goddamn cousin’s fault. As usual.

“Don’t worry”, Alice massaged your shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting. Right now it only added to your overall tension. “Just ask a friend or something. It’s not a big deal, is it?”

“Except I literally have no one to ask. Besides,” you added, flopping onto the bed dramatically, “who in the right mind would agree to go to a wedding with me?”

“Well, it’s free food.”

“You’re a real friend, Al.”

“You know you can count on me.”

You’d called Alice in for a brainstorming session, since the wedding was taking place in a week and you still haven’t solved the big pressing problem: your datelessness.

Usually it wouldn’t matter; you were used to going to parties alone. So far in your life you’ve been in three relationships – none of which lasted longer than two months. Your talent at attracting fuckboys and assholes was uncanny, to say the least. The point was, you could easily just attend the wedding by yourself.

Unfortunately, this was not an option, thanks to your jerk cousin, Corwin. He was two years younger than you and never had any trouble getting a date. His list of ex-lovers was probably even longer than the one in that Taylor Swift song. And, obviously, he had to be there when you were getting invited to the wedding, and had to make a sardonic remark about how there was no point in giving you a “plus one” invitation since you were sure to show up alone.

So, naturally, you decided to show him that he can go fuck himself and made a promise to yourself that no matter what, you were going to that wedding with a date.

Which brought you right to this moment: a week before the party, still very much single.

Right as you were about to say you should probably give up, Alice suddenly perked up and threw herself to the desk, opening your laptop.

“Wha-“

“Shh! I just had a brilliant idea. There’s this guy that-“

“Alice”, you whined. “We’ve talked about this, I’m not taking a random person-“

“Will you listen to me? Sophie met this great guy when she was working in that recording studio, and they’re still in contact. Claims that she’d throw herself at him if she was into men at all, which you know is the highest compliment any male can hope to receive. And I’ve actually met him once, he’s cute and seems nice, so what do you have to lose?”

“So you’re suggesting I ask this dude, who has no idea I exist, to go to a goddamn wedding with me and survive my family for several hours? With the only added benefit of free food and alcohol? There’s no way he’d agree.”

“Well, he’s online right now, and I’m asking him.”

“Alice!”

She turned away from the laptop to meet your eyes.

“No, really. Worst case scenario, he says no and we’re back to square one. Best case scenario, he says yes, you two go to the wedding, fall hopelessly in love and make out somewhere Corwin can see you, so he finally shuts up about your love life. Right?”

You considered it for a moment, then sighed.

“This is the worst plan ever.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

And just like that, you found yourself in a coffee shop two blocks away from your apartment, fidgeting in your seat. To your surprise, the guy – named Lin – agreed to go with you without any hesitation whatsoever. So, you scheduled to meet for coffee the day before the wedding and get to know each other a bit, so the evening would hopefully be less of an awkward mess.

You’d agreed to meet at ten, but you woke up uncharacteristically early that morning and found yourself unable to focus on anything. Deciding that pacing around your bedroom in circles was useless, you arrived an hour early. Right now you were sipping your second coffee, watching patrons flutter in and out, and nervously eyeing the clock.

It was quarter before ten when the bell above the door ringed, announcing the arrival of a new guest. You looked at the guy curiously. Judging by the messy black hair and dark circles under his eyes, he was your tomorrow’s date. You did a little wave to get his attention and soon he was slipping into the seat opposite you with a wide smile on his face.

“Hi! I’m Lin, great to meet you! So I’ve been told that we’re deflating a jerk’s ego tomorrow?”

You introduced yourself, unable to keep your eyes off the man’s face. The photo Alice sent you did him no justice at all. His eyes, dark and solemn on the picture, were, in fact, rich brown and endlessly warm, and there were no words to describe the brightness of his megawatt smile.

You found out that Alice has briefly told him about the circumstances of the unfortunate wedding. Apparently, Lin was more than eager to knock your cousin down a few pegs. He insisted that you needed to exchange all kinds of information about yourself, so that your fake dating shtick would seem reasonably genuine.

“Well – we don’t have to tell them we’re dating at all”, you stammered. It was painfully clear that this guy was way out of your league.

Lin shook his head, looking appalled at the idea.

“This is a must”, he insisted. “Who am I to miss out on an opportunity to pretend-date a cute girl?”

You did your best to cover your blush with a long sip of your coffee.

“Okay, you go first”, you suggested. “What do you do?”

He started telling you about his temporary job as an English teacher, which payed the bills while he worked on writing his very own musical (which explained meeting Sophie at the studio). His enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself constantly laughing at his stories. You began to understand what Alice meant when she mentioned his “easy charisma”.

“Okay, but that’s enough about me”, he said after a particularly funny story about a pop quiz on Shakespeare. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well”, you started, laughing nervously, “there’s not much to talk about. I work in an office downtown. A mind-numbingly boring job, just tons of paperwork and not much else.”

“Okay, so what’s the dream, then?”, he asked with a glint in his eyes.

That was a question you weren’t expecting. You looked down at your empty coffee cup and hesitated for a moment.

“It’s- it’s silly, really, but- I’ve always dreamed of being an author. Fantasy, sci-fi, children’s books, stuff like that. But I’ve never written anything I was really satisfied with, you know? Kept throwing most of it out. I suppose I should just stick to what I’m doing right now.”

Despite your best efforts, your eyes started to tear up a little. These traitors.

You suddenly felt something warm encircling your hand. Looking up in surprise, you noticed that Lin covered it with his. You blushed a little at the look in his eyes – endlessly soft and caring.

“You can’t just give up”, he said, seriousness ringing in his voice. “Everyone starts from somewhere. And throwing out your work is one of the worst offenses ever, trust me. Archive it, store it somewhere you��ll never have to look at it again, but never delete any of it. How else are you supposed to track your progress? And, honestly, I don’t believe you.”

“What do you mean-“

“Your writing. You mentioned it with such passion – I can’t believe this is just a temporary thing. You really want to do it, don’t you?”

“Well, I do – or at least I did, but-“

“Then do it”, he smiled. “If it helps, I’ll gladly read whatever you want me to – and maybe you could look at my writing, too? I need some honest feedback. Just between us writers?”

You looked at him – softly, fondly.

“Yeah. Just between us.”

The conversation soon returned to more mundane stuff, and before you knew it, it was time to return home. You said your goodbyes and agreed to meet at your place the next day an hour before the wedding, to be able to get there without the need to rush.

You returned to your place, trying to focus on preparations for tomorrow – to no avail. Your mind kept wandering back to the man you just met. Oh, there was no denying he was cute, but that’s not what captured your attention the most. No, you kept replaying his words in your head instead. “Just between us writers.”

Honestly, you’ve all but given up on your writing at this point. No matter what you did, the ideas always felt stale, the words awkward, the characters flat. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to your favourites – Le Guin, Gaiman, Pratchett, Hobb – and feel discouraged by the juxtaposition. Beginning was relatively easy and you were quick to become excited with an idea, but the enthusiasm tended to dissipate in the blink of an eye, leaving you disheartened. Putting words together seemed easy when someone else was doing it; not so much when you were trying it yourself.

So, yeah, you’ve basically thrown the towel in at this point. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve written something that wasn’t a job e-mail. You didn’t even know why you’d mentioned it today, and why to Lin of all people. Was it because he was a writer too? Or just because his sincerity and openness caught you entirely off guard?

Strangely enough, his words of encouragement struck a chord with you. His passion for theatre, the energy with which he talked about his projects was contagious. It reminded you of high school and nights spent polishing the next chapter of your story. Back then, the distance between you and your idols was inspiring instead of terrifying. When had it changed?

Next day you spent your whole afternoon in a daze, mindlessly preparing yourself for the party while still mulling over the things Lin had brought up yesterday. You were just putting the finishing touches on your makeup when a sharp knock on the door brought you back to reality.

You rushed to the entrance to find it was Lin, right on schedule. The sight of him momentarily struck you dumb. You were going to a wedding, so logically you knew he wouldn’t be sporting the jeans and sweater he sported in the café. Still, nothing could prepare you for his elegant dark grey suit, which he wore with casual confidence. How the hell did you score a man like this?

Fortunately, you managed not to miss a beat and smiled at him, inviting him inside. “Come in, I just need a couple more minutes and I’m ready to go.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re not ready”, he said, taking in the sight of you. “I’m pretty sure you can’t improve on perfection.”

“Stop it”, you laughed to hide your embarrassment.

“I’m serious. Here I was, thinking we’ll be keeping a low profile during this, and it’s gonna be impossible when you threaten to outshine the bride.”

You couldn’t do anything to stop the furious blush coming to your cheeks.

“Well, I-“ Damn, what was it about this man that made you so incoherent? “It’s gonna take just a moment. Um, make yourself at home?”, you said quickly before returning to the bathroom.

You leaned on the sink, breathing deeply, and trying to contain yourself. It was just some casual flirting, right? Nothing you couldn’t handle. He was probably doing it just to be polite and ease the tension. You weren’t going to get your hopes up. One night and you’d probably never see each other again. You were fine with it.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You left the bathroom a minute later, finally ready to go. Exiting, you noticed Lin standing before your bookshelf, looking curiously at the titles.

“Never seen such a collection belonging to someone who didn’t write”, he commented out loud, smirking in your direction. “You should stop lying to yourself about it. This is meant to be.”

“There are tons of people who enjoy reading but don’t or can’t write”, you reminded him.

Lin shook his head.

“Alright, not gonna argue with a pretty girl just before a date. Shall we go?”

He offered you his arm. You gladly took it.

You’d failed to notice he called the evening a date.

The wedding part of the whole affair went by in a blur. You had to admit that the venue was lovely. The ceremony took place under a blooming apple tree in a vast garden. It was lucky, since you knew how long waiting lists for wedding sites could be. One week later and the flowers could have been long gone.

The bride, a distant relative of yours whose name you barely remembered (Kate? Karen?), looked rather nice, even though her gown was enormous. What was with people and those huge puffy dresses? You couldn’t remember one woman who pulled it off successfully. Except maybe Beyoncé, but that’s because she was, well, Beyoncé.

The vows were exchanged, which gave you an opportunity to hear newlyweds’ names again (Kate and Nathan, you noted, even though you would probably forget them in a moment), and then you were quickly ushered to a spacious hall. The bride must have been insistent on inviting literally everyone from her side of the family, since you were seeing a lot of vaguely familiar faces you remembered from other gatherings.

Thankfully, introducing Lin to your parents was rather painless, since they were preoccupied with meeting aunt Bertha and other relatives. With a promise that you’d be there later for a longer talk, you exchanged simple pleasantries and went to find your seats at the tables.

The official part of the wedding elapsed quickly. As soon as the music started, Lin smiled at you and asked you for a dance. You’ve just managed to approach the dance floor when you heard a voice that gave you the creeps.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Y/N!”, said Corwin in a mocking tone, walking towards you. “So you did manage to leave your house for once? Won’t your books miss you?”

You did your best to cover your annoyance with a saccharine smile. “Hello, cousin. Could you be so kind and introduce us to your partner?” You nodded at the woman beside him. “I can’t keep track of them, you show up with a new one every party.”

“This is Frances”, he said unperturbed, gesturing to his partner. You couldn’t deny she was attractive: the kind of woman who made you feel insecure by simply existing. Her blue eyes seemed vacant, though, and her smile was definitely forced. You wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be just as vapid as most of Corwin’s dates.

Still, you couldn’t judge her merely by virtue of dating your cousin. You did your best to make your expression friendly when you said hello and introduced yourself and Lin. Corwin appraised him with a smirk.

“Wow. Someone actually agreed to show up with you in public. And he’s a step above the pansies you brought earlier, too. Did she blackmail or pay you?”, he smirked at Lin.

You were used to your asshole cousin’s remarks, but it still hurt to hear that. You knew that you two led very different lives, but it didn’t seem like a good enough reason to put you down. You took a deep breath, trying your best to keep a smile on your face. You were just about to politely tell him to stuff it, when Lin put his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.” You’ve met Lin yesterday, but it was clear to you that he was faking a cheerful tone. “She wasn’t easy to get, but I intend to keep her.”

Corwin outright laughed.

“Hard to get? Her? I don’t know she did to get you to act all adoring like that, but everyone can tell it’s a sham. I wouldn’t go with her even if she offered to spread her legs for me, that freakish prude is just not worth it.”

You could feel your smile fading from your face. Yep, he had to go there. That was it. He was about to get slapped right where he stood. But before you could do anything, Lin put his hand on your cheek, gently turning your head towards him. He looked at you with determination.

And then he kissed you.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment. That was not at all what you were expecting, and you definitely hadn’t discussed that possibility earlier. But you found that you didn’t really want to protest. You closed your eyes, melted into Lin’s embrace and let yourself enjoy the moment.

The kiss was gentle and sweet and ended far too early to your liking. You opened your eyes with reluctance and were immediately rewarded with a clear view of Lin’s face: soft and smiling. You quickly catalogued the memory. Definitely didn’t want to forget that, ever.

And you were right to do so, because a heartbeat later his eyes shifted to harsh as he turned towards Corwin. “You talk about my girlfriend like that again and I swear you will need to be carried out of this place”, he spat. “Let’s go, cariño. I hope the rest of your family isn’t as insolent as this jackass.”

You caught a glimpse of your baffled cousin as you left, walking away from the party and towards the little deserted balcony. Lin hadn’t let go of your hand that entire time.

Saying you were confused would be an understatement. Your head kept spinning and your lips still tingled a little from the sudden kiss.

As soon as you found yourself away from the other guests, Lin turned to you.

“Look, I’m so sorry”, he began to apologize. “I just didn’t expect this guy to be such an asshole, and I tend to act impulsively when I’m angry. I know I should’ve asked you first, and this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, and-“

“Lin”, you interrupted him, looking him in the eye. He closed his mouth immediately. “It’s okay. Honestly. I was just a little surprised, that’s all. It was priceless to see Corwin finally shut up. And, just between us”, you said in a moment of courage, “I definitely don’t regret that.”

“…You don’t?”, Lin asked softly.

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Thank God”, he smiled widely. “Because I can’t say I wouldn’t want to do that again.”

He leaned towards you, stopping just shy of your lips. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to”, he whispered.

“I know”, you answered and smiled before kissing him.

#lin manuel imagine #lin-manuel imagine #lin imagine #lin x reader #lin manuel x reader #lin-manuel x reader #lmm imagine #lmm x reader #hamilcast imagine #hamilcast x reader #actual fic

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