#and coming back in an even cheerier mood

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 7: Style | Read Chapter 6: It’s Nice to Have a Friend!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - Mature (THE TIME HAS COME) (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: IT’S ANOTHER LONG ONE I’M SORRY. Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, OF ALL KINDS, reaches an all-time high. Adult language. A LOT of feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at an 83.5% but ends up at about a 90.79% in this chapter). Religious practices, mentions (fictional). Mentions of food and alcohol. Arguing. Fingering. Lots of praise. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 10.9k

Summary!: Three steps forward, two steps back, is still one step forward. 

A/N: REWRITTEN AND REFORMATTED ON: 12/30/23; IF YOU READ ANY OF THE REWRITES READ THIS ONE

******

“And I should just tell you to leave, 'cause I

Know exactly where it leads, but I

Watch us go 'round and 'round each time…”

 It was a great week... 

 Until it wasn't. You’ve spent almost the entirety of the past week and a half with Ezra. Playing cards, making more conversation, and sharing food and drinks whenever you can. The atmosphere between you two has lightened significantly, becoming overall cheerier. Even the crew’s seemed to notice.

 On the last night of the work week, you and Ezra are chatting as usual, this time near the end of the night. A group of your crew is present, and the hours have been going by quickly in the best way. Ezra’s acting as his usual storyteller-self and you’re just as enticed as the rest of the crew. You know it's getting late, but the mood is so light, that you can’t bear to cut the evening short until now, knowing full well that tomorrow will be back to the typical grindstone. When you check your watch, it dawns on you that it’s very late. So, you wait until the story's over before you announce our departure. 

"Well, I think it's time I get some sleep. We've got an early day tomorrow." You say, standing up from your seat and gathering your helmet and empty food tray from dinner.

 Ezra looks up at you with a warm smile and gives a slight nod in agreement. The rest of the group bid you goodnight. Before you can turn to leave, Ezra calls out, stopping you in your tracks. "Wait," You turn on your heel. 

 "Yeah, what's up?" You ask him with a raise of your eyebrow. He pauses, looking around at everyone else for a moment before turning back to you. 

 "Do you mind if I walk you back to your quarters?" The group’s eyes go from you to Ezra, then back again as they await to hear your answer. You see the crew look from Ezra to you with interest, making you pause. It definitely wouldn't be a good idea to agree, considering how many rumors there have been about you two lately. But you can't deny that you enjoy Ezra's company. 

 "Sure, c'mon," You say before you turn again and begin to walk to your tent without checking if he's following or not.

 Ezra is a bit surprised that you agreed, but he immediately gets out of his seat and begins to walk after you. As you head back to your chambers, there's a bit of silence between the two of you. Finally, he decides to speak up. 

 "So, uh, shall we talk about that little rumor the crew is spreadin’?" he asks.

 "What rumor?" You ask with clearly mock obliviousness. Before you snort when he chuckles in response, but you shake your head gently. "I didn't peg you as being interested in idle gossip." You tease.

 "I'd say that the 'idle gossip' has gone a bit beyond what I'd call 'idle' by now. It's been a weeks-long topic at this point, at least." Ezra pauses, and you notice him blush a bit. You roll your eyes playfully with a smile,

 ”Yeah, I guess it has...” but then you see he seems in a more somber mood so you backtrack from your playful tone. “Does it bother you at all?" You ask him, genuinely unsure if you want him to say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ He pauses for a moment before responding. 

 "I'm not gonna lie, the attention can be a bit... uncomfortable," he admits. "But what really bothers me is that it makes you seem like nothin’ more than the 'exotic' object in this... mess. You deserve more than that." His tone is one of fierce conviction as his troubled brow furrows. "You're smart, funny, driven, and so much more. Yet the crew seems to ignore that and focus on what you are, rather than who you are. You deserve respect." Your heart warms as he expresses that and you smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

 “You’re a good man, Ezra. And don’t worry about those jagoffs, ok? They’re just being… men.” You say with a soft chuckle. Ezra gives a slight grin, his face lighting up at your touch. 

 "You're too kind to me," he says, placing his own hand on top of yours, something that has become more and more frequent as of late. "I'm sure you know what I mean here... bein’ a woman in the workforce is hard. At least, I know my sister's told me a few horror stories." Ezra pauses, before letting his fingers gently interlace with yours. You smile and let him grab your hand. 

 “One of your sisters is a prospector too?” You ask him, surprised that he hasn’t mentioned it until now. “Which one?”

 "Shira is," Ezra says with a nod, still holding onto your hand. He runs his thumb along your fingers lightly. "She's just as smart as any of those men on her crew... maybe even more so, considerin’ she has the drive to reach out and work with the minin’ corporations rather than out here on the Fringe." Ezra pauses, thinking for a moment. "She's quite the negotiator," he adds with a slight grin.

 “Mm, just like her big brother, then?” His grin turns sheepish. You smile. Again, he seems so proud of his siblings. “What about your other sisters? The older ones. What do they do?” You ask.

 Ezra's smile widens. "Well, Dalia’s a biologist," he says with a slight chuckle. "She studies the ecosystems of worlds that we visit. We all call her the 'space hippie'," Ezra says with a light shrug. "And Danni is a mechanic for the minin’ corporations that sponsor us prospectors," he adds, just as you two reach the entrance of your tent. 

 “Well, I’d love to hear more about your sisters. We can continue this talk at breakfast tomorrow?” You ask him with a hopeful smile. He nods, letting go of your hand and giving a slight chuckle. 

 "Bright ‘n early," he says, looking at you and smiling. His gaze lingers for a moment, studying your face, before giving a wink and a small nod. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says.

 “Good night, Ezra. Sweet dreams.” You say reaching for his hand and giving it one more gentle squeeze before you enter your tent. He smiles as he watches you enter your tent. He stands there for a moment longer, just watching you with that same smile on his face. Finally, he puts a hand over his heart and whispers to himself, 

 "Sweet dreams to you too, my darlin’." Ezra turns and walks away, heading back to his own tent.

It was a great week... 

 Until it wasn’t. The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache. It feels like you’ve got pins and needles behind your eyes and you groan as the morning light, even dimmed by the thick tarp of your tent, stings your vision. You’re half tempted to just roll over in your cot and go back to sleep, but you decide against it.

 Eventually, you make it out of bed, mainly because you hear the commotion of the men getting up and likely heading for breakfast. You look around for some clean clothes and quickly realize… you forgot to do laundry this week. Crap. You decide to pick your least offensive clothing and get dressed, reminding yourself to do laundry as soon as your shift is over. You begrudgingly start towards the dining tent.

 It’s busier than usual this morning, as many crew members are trying to recover from the night before. Ezra is sitting with a few of the crew, talking and laughing together. He looks up as soon as you enter, his expression going from lighthearted merriment to a look of concern in an instant. "Hey!" he says, immediately getting up to come towards you.

 “Hey,” you try to offer him a smile but your head is still pounding and you feel overall off, making it look more like a grimace. He looks at you, your expression immediately putting him on alert. 

 "Are you alright?" he asks with concern in his voice. He looks you up and down, noticing the slight unsteadiness in your steps. 

 “Not really, I’ve got this killer headache." You explain, taking a seat at the nearest table as a wave of nausea overtakes you. You take a deep breath and rest your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a moment. Ezra is clearly worried. He quickly pulls out a handkerchief and lays it on the table in front of you, before coming around the table to kneel down next to you. 

 "What does it feel like?" he asks, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He glances up at you, looking for clues as he studies you. "Nausea? Light sensitivity?"

 "Mmm, yup. Both of those." You reply as you take another deep breath. He places a gentle hand underneath your chin, lifting your head back. 

 "Look at me," he says, his tone full of concern. He quickly studies your expression, making a note of the paleness of your face before taking note of your sunken cheeks. He moves a bit away as he grabs his multitool from his belt, clicking on the small lightpen. “Follow my finger,” He instructs as he moves both the pen and his pointer finger from one edge of your vision to the other, testing your eyes’ reflexes. "You look really ill, but your eyes are responding fine," he says after a moment when he’s finished. "Stay right here," he says to you as he stands back up. 

 Ezra glances around, looking for any signs of a medic or medical supplies. You don't even have the energy to flush from how close he is, but you still feel relieved when he stands up. You close your eyes and take another breath, feeling the nausea start to subside. He leaves for a few minutes but you don’t even notice until he’s back.

 He quickly returns to your side, carrying a few different supplies in his hands. He hands you a small bottle of water and a pill bottle, placing them on the table for you. "Here," he says, "drink some water, and take two of these," he adds, placing the pill bottle next to the bottle of water. 

 "What are these?" You ask him as you open up the bottle and place two into your palm. They're ovular and pink. He smiles and shakes his head slightly.

 "They're for stomach troubles. Should help with the nausea," he says. "Don't worry, they're perfectly safe - some of the other crew take them all the time." Ezra watches you carefully as you take the pills. "Usually for when they eat too much grub after a shift.”

 You nod and take both of them, swallowing them down with a couple swigs of water. You thank him when you're done, setting the water aside and taking a few seconds to wait for the pills to take effect. He takes a seat near you, seeming a bit more relaxed now that you've taken the medication. He watches you carefully for a moment before speaking again. "You should head back to your tent, and get some rest. I'd hate for you to overdo it this early in the day," he says, his tone still concerned.

 "I can't, I gotta get the shift started," You say as you notice the rest of the crew putting on their helmets and discarding their mostly empty food trays to head out for the latest dig of the day. You make sure you feel steady before you slowly stand up, grabbing your helmet and putting it on.

 Ezra gives a quick nod as you grab your equipment and start to head out of the tent. He gets up to follow you as you walk towards the group of others. "Take it easy if you can, okay?" Ezra says, trying to keep his voice low enough so only you can hear him. You nod and thank him again with a soft smile, appreciating that he’s looking out for you.

 He smiles back, glancing around and making sure no one is paying attention to the two of you as you two walk a few yards. But he can’t help himself before whispering, "Ya know, you could stay in your tent for a day or two while you recover, and no one would bat an eyelash," he says quietly. "I know this expedition is important, but your health is more." 

 “Don’t be ridiculous, Ezra. I’ll be fine.” You insist. “I took the meds, I’m sure I’ll get over whatever this is soon.” You two reach your grid and you begin setting your pack and equipment down. He looks at you for a moment, a slight frown on his face as he watches to make sure you're doing alright. 

 "I'm not goin’ to be able to talk you into it, am I?" he asks you teasingly. You can hear the worry in his tone, though, and his expression is one more of trepidation than amusement.

 “No, you can’t.” You say with a bit of a smile. “We have to work. I’ll be fine.” You say, beginning to get a bit irritated with his concern. It’s not that you find it annoying, but you know your work is important. Still, it’s not his fault that you woke up feeling like garbage. You sigh. “Look, if I’m feeling worse, I’ll take a break. Are you good with that?” You ask him.

 He seems to sense your irritation and nods, submitting. "Yeah, I get it. It's our job," he says, his expression turning serious again. He stands with you for a moment longer, watching as you kneel down to access the gem mounds below the forest floor. He glances around to make sure that everyone is occupied before speaking again. "Good luck with the diggin’," he whispers. "I'm sure you'll find somethin’ amazin’."

 You soften as he wishes you luck. “You too. I’ll see you at lunch?” You offer with a hopeful look. Ezra nods and smiles at you, seeming a bit more reassured now that you're ready to start digging. 

 "Yeah, I'll meet you at lunch," he replies. Ezra gives you a little nod and starts to head off in the direction of his space. You're still not feeling great, but as soon as you start working, your mind begins to become focused on the task at hand. It's easier to ignore the headache and nausea when you're digging... at least, for the time being.

All work momentarily pauses as the alarms coming through your radios signal that Denver’s got an announcement,

 “Morning, crew,” He greets and you all respond in kind, all eyes on the ground moving upwards to watch him as he stands at the watchtower. “I know we’ve got Kevva’s Light coming up this weekend so I’m making this announcement to every last one of you to let you know that you’ve got the rest of the weekend off-” The crew erupts in cheers, and you smile. “Our shifts will be cut short today, only half a day, and then we’ve got the next 2 and a half days for ourselves.” Your group cheers again and the man’s smile widens into a grin. “Feel free to celebrate our Goddess’ Holy Day however you want: rest, party… drink.” He says that last bit with playful emphasis and there’s another cheer. “I’m planning a small feast in the dining hall tomorrow evening, so feel free to come hang out if you’d like. Now, let’s have a great dig,” With that, the work resumes and you’re glad the happy announcement brought you some needed distraction.

But unfortunately, the distraction doesn’t last long. You spend hour after hour digging but it seems like your luck on this expedition has finally run dry. Your frustration seems to bring the headache back tenfold, and you decide to finally take that break, sitting down on a nearby log to rest. You look around and spot Ezra a few yards away.

 He also seems to be having an awful dig today, if his near-empty pack is anything to go by. His brow is furrowed and his frown is deep as he continues to dig. He looks over at you and notices you taking that rest. He walks over and takes a seat next to you, glancing over with a sympathetic look as he surveys his own pile. He lets out a sigh and looks up at the clouds, seeming frustrated with the lack of discoveries he's made so far. 

 "Well, this is just peachy, ain’t it?" he asks, turning to face you with a small laugh. Ezra pauses for a moment when he sees the state of your own pile. "It looks like things aren't goin’ too well for us today, huh?" he says with an awkward smile. You offer the same awkward smile back. 

 “I suppose not.” You say. You sigh and run a hand through your hair as your head throbs again. “At least it’s almost lunchtime.” You say with a small frown. Ezra nods, seeming to reach the same conclusion as you. 

 "Yeah," he says, offering a small smile. "Lunchtime is always a good thing, no matter the circumstances," he says. "And hey, you never know what good the Holy Day will bring," Ezra says optimistically. After another long moment, Ezra stands back up. "If you want, we could go over the map together for next week? Maybe that’ll give us another avenue of labor to dig into," he adds, offering a hopeful look. You nod, even if you were actually hoping to get some rest during lunch. But who knows? Maybe a distraction and some time with the closest person you can call ‘friend’ is what you need. 

 “Ok, sure.” You say softly. You stand up with another sigh. “C’mon, let’s keep going. It’s only another half-hour until lunch.” You say and stand up.

Ezra follows you to your area first. As he walks, Ezra also occasionally glances over at you, looking for any signs of how you're feeling. "You still holdin’ up okay?" he asks, his voice soft so none of the other crew members can overhear.

 “Yeah, doing a bit better.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “My head’s hurting again, but I think I’ll just look for something in my medkit once my shift is over.” You say softly as you set your own stuff down and resume your work.

 He nods and wishes you luck again before going back to his space. Every now and then he glances over to make sure you're doing alright, watching you work. He clears a good portion of his area, glancing over at his watch and sighing from being disappointed with the lack of discoveries. So he decides to go back to you again.

  "How’s it this time around? Any luck?" he asks, his voice hopeful for you despite his obvious disappointed expression.

 “Nope.” You say bluntly, sighing with frustration. The alarms ring to signal lunch time and you throw your stuff down where it is, marching away from the site. “Goddamnit, not one good dig. I can’t believe it.” You mumble, half to yourself, half to Ezra. He exhales sharply and places his hands on his hips, a look of frustration on his face. 

 "I know the feelin’," he says, glancing around at the empty piles of dirt. "Sometimes it's not meant to be," he adds. Ezra then turns back towards you, offering you a small smile. "Come on... let's head to lunch," he says before starting to walk towards the dining tent with the rest of the men.

You two grab your trays and get into the growing line of men, Ezra allowing you to serve yourself first.

 “So, got any plans for Kevva’s Light?” He asks, a little too hopeful that your answer is no.

 “Not really,” You admit with a soft shrug. “I didn’t grow up religious or celebrating. I mean we always had time off on that weekend, so my parents would pull me out of school early the day before and we’d go and do stuff together,” You pause as you both grab a bowl to serve yourselves some stuff that resembles stew. “But, that stopped after my dad passed and we never really made an effort to pick it back up. If anything, I just sleep a lot.” You add with a small chuckle, making Ezra smile as you grab a bread roll next. “How about you?” He shrugs and serves you both some green juice. 

 “I grew up pretty devoted, if I’m bein’ honest.” He responds, seeming almost embarrassed by that fact. “But, I haven’t been an official follower in a long time.” You two begin the walk to the closest available table. “To be frank, I ditched the whole idea while out here.” He says, and there’s something slightly bitter in his tone and his eyes but you don’t push it. Instead, you nod,

 “I get that. I have friends back home who did too. Those celebrations do seem pretty fun though. I know they and their families would have big parties or do those moonlit rituals.” You say, both sitting down and beginning to eat. He cracks a smile at that, at ease again.

 “My parents did everythin’: the Observations of Silence, the big family feast, the Moonlight Dance. Pretty sure it was their favorite holiday of the year.” He says. You smile when he does, before taking a spoonful of warm stew.

 “Well, we can always go to Denver’s dinner? Sounds like a lot of the crew is planning on attending?” You offer. His smile widens when you say, ‘we’, still not used to the fact that you consider him in your plans now.

 “Actually,” He says, and pauses for just a beat too long as he figures out the best way to word this. “I was thinkin’ we could do somethin’ a little more private in one of our tents? I’m still not keen on celebratin’ much, but I think we could have a special dinner for the two of us?” His eyes are almost cinnamon in this light and warm as they meet yours in a hopeful gaze. You smile and nod. There’s something in his tone that makes you see that this isn’t just another get-together. For whatever reason you can tell that this… means something else.

 “Sure. Why not?” His shoulders practically sag with relief and you both eat your stew and bread in a comfortable silence. But then, your head begins to throb again. You wince and he notices.

 “Headache’s still here?” He asks and you nod with a grimace. “We should get you your medkit.” He grabs your now empty dishes along with his and takes them to the wash pile before you two leave the tent, heading for your tent.

 You follow along, feeling your head begin to throb even worse. You ignore it for the moment. You lead him inside. “Have a seat.” You say, gesturing to your cot, while you grab a chair for yourself. After you’re both seated, Ezra sighs and glances over at you again and sees that you’re still in pain. 

 "Let me get it for you.” He says.

 “It should be right above you in the cabinet right there.” You say, pointing behind him, a few feet above his head.

 Ezra looks up at where you're pointing, finding the medkit resting exactly where you said. He nods and quickly gets up, grabbing the kit off of the shelf. Ezra returns to his seat, holding the kit in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "Do you want some water with those?" he asks, indicating to the pills in the kit.

 “I have some, thanks.” You say, grabbing your canteen and opening it. You grab a pain reliever and take it quickly, hoping it kicks in fast. “Ok, so have you got that map to look at?” You ask him. He nods and pulls out the map, quickly glancing over it to familiarize himself with the layout. 

 "Let's see... we've already covered this whole area right here," he says, pointing to a section of the map. "And we did a bit more over here," he adds, pointing to another area before looking at you. "So it looks like the next spot to hit is this area here. Hopefully, that'll be a bit more lucky for us," Ezra says with a smile. "What do you think?" Your brow furrows. 

 “Mm, that’s too close to those groups I noticed the other night. We don’t want to cause any trouble. Do you know if Denver’s had any communication with them?” You ask him. He sighs and shakes his head. 

 "I don't think so. We can't seem to establish any kind of line of communication with the other groups," he says, sounding a bit frustrated. Ezra pauses for a moment, thinking about the situation. "You're right," he says eventually. "That area is a bit too close for comfort. Do you have any other ideas? I want to make sure we're findin’ somethin’ today. Just not somethin’ that'll bring us trouble." He pauses for a moment, looking at you.

 “Well, there is this area, closer to the river.” You say, pointing to an area further east. “Maybe this one might work?” Your tone is hopeful but when you look up to meet Ezra’s eyes, his frown and furrowed brow put a stop to your optimism. “What?” 

 He sighs and shakes his head again, seeming more concerned now. "That's even worse," he says, his voice filled with a hint of urgency. "That area is a bit of a no-go," he adds, staring at you with a serious expression. He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "The groups near the river have been especially unfriendly," Ezra explains. "I... I can't quite go into detail, but there was an incident the other night." Ezra looks like he might say more, but he stops himself. "That area's off-limits," he says finally.

 “Well we can’t go your route, that’s also too close.” You point out. “We’ve got to be able to get to the area near the river.” He sighs and rubs his face in frustration. 

 "We're runnin’ outta options..." he says, sounding a bit exasperated. "What ‘bout this here?" he asks, his voice rising in pitch as he points out another area on the map. "It's a bit of a walk... and it's goin’ into an area we haven't explored yet, but maybe that'll help our cause." Ezra offers a hopeful smile, staring back at you. You shake your head, your own frustration climbing too. 

 “I mentioned that spot to Denver when we first got here; he said it’s full of unstable caves that have been known to collapse. He doesn’t want to risk any of us going in there.” You say.

 “Goddmnit.” He mumbles. You two spend the next five minutes pouring over that map, trying out different plans on how to find a more bountiful site. All to no avail. Finally, Ezra pushes away the map with a frustrated groan. 

 He sighs again and puts his head in his hands, seeming like he might just give up. "Do you have any ideas?" he asks, his tone filled with desperation. "We're runnin’ outta time, and we're runnin’ outta options. I need somethin’," he says, sounding stressed and anxious. Ezra glances up at you again, looking like he might just go off and try digging on his own. "Do you have anythin’? Anythin’ at all?"

 You run a hand through your hair again, wincing when your fingers catch on a small knot. You undo it with your fingers before sighing. “I know, Ezra. I know.” You say, a slight tone of annoyance beginning to creep into your voice. “You’re not the only one that needs this dig to go well.”

 Ezra looks up sharply at the change in your tone, seeming a bit hurt by the annoyance. "No, I know that," he says, sounding annoyed himself. "It's just that... it feels like you've shot down every idea I've had so far," he says, throwing his hands up, visibly frustrated. "I don't know what you want from me. I've been workin’ just as hard as you, and I need somethin’ to turn up," he says, his voice raising as he gets more irritated. You shake your head. 

 “You know that’s not it. I’m not shooting down your ideas for nothing.” You protest, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. He stares at you for a moment, still not liking the tone you're taking with him, but he tries to keep his temper in check. 

 "So why are you shootin’ ‘em down?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused. Ezra takes a breath and puts his hands on his knees, trying to remain calm. He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Look, I'm just as frustrated as you right now," he says. "I'm just tryin’ to find somethin’ that we can both agree on, somethin’ that actually has a chance of workin’."

 “I know that.” You snap. “But this terrain is dangerous. If it’s not the obstacles, it’s the groups around us. We can’t just go anywhere we want, you know that.”

 "Yeah, I do know that," Ezra replies, throwing his hands up again in frustration as he paces a bit. "But I can work with danger, okay? I can handle the groups, I know how to navigate the terrain, none of that bothers me," he answers. Ezra stares daggers at you, but he doesn't say anything further as he takes a few moments to calm himself down. "We just need a spot to go where we actually have a chance of findin’ somethin’ worthwhile, alright?" Ezra asks, his tone still a bit harsh, but not quite as intense as before.

 You let out a sound of frustration and rise from your seat, rolling your eyes. “Kevva above, you’re such a vet.” You say.

 "What are you tryin’ to say?" His voice suddenly sharp as he asks, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Ezra stares at you, not wanting to speak out of turn or jump to conclusions. He also keeps a close eye on your tone, as the frustration earlier still has him on edge.

 “I’m saying that just because you’ve been here longer than most of us doesn’t mean you know everything, Ezra.” You say, crossing your arms again. “I know you think you can handle yourself but we both know a lot of those groups are the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type.”

 Ezra sighs and shakes his head at you, clearly frustrated. "I never said I knew everythin’," he says, bringing his voice back down. "But you know I've been out here, dealin’ with those 'shoot first' groups for years," Ezra says, turning away from you, and looking at the ground. He glances back over at you after a moment, and it looks like he's trying to stay calm. But it's hard. "I never said I was perfect, did I? You know how hard it is, especially out here. So maybe consider that I know what I'm talkin’ about a lil bit."

 “I know you know your stuff, Ezra. But you’re clearly not getting that this shit isn’t just a walk in the park. If something happens to you, it damages more than just you. It impacts all of us.” You say with a frown.

 Ezra stares at you, visibly conflicted. "Do you think I haven't thought about that?" he asks, his voice still tense. Ezra raises his hands as he stands up straighter and puts them on his hips, not knowing how to explain himself to you. He takes another moment to collect his thoughts before turning back towards you, speaking once more. "Look, I'm not suggestin’ we go out and seek out trouble. I know the risks... believe me." Ezra pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "But we need some course of action, here.”

 “Of course we do, but it takes more than just ‘I can work with danger’,” you say, using air quotes. “It takes planning and strategy and hoping that these jagoff groups aren’t keen to kill us!”

 He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in surrender. He huffs and turns away from you, starting to lose his patience. Ezra takes a step closer, his voice raised again. "Okay, rook, then what's your plan, huh? What's your 'strategy'?" Ezra glares at you and points a finger in your direction, daring you to give him anything. "Because it sure looks like you've got nothin’! Nothin' but my plan. So what's it gonna be?"

 You frown. “Ugh, you’re so infuriating!”

 He gives you a smug smile and leans in, getting close to you. "And you think you're not infuriatin’?" he asks, taking a moment to consider you. "I'm doin’ my best here," he continues, taking a more serious tone. "We both know how high-stakes this all is, but we also know how important it is to get a dig done... you need to trust me here," Ezra says, his voice softer now. Ezra gazes at you, waiting for a response. You consider his tone as you take a minute. He’s trying to diffuse the situation. You rub the back of your neck tiredly and step away to refocus.

 “Fine… you’re right.” You concede in kind, your own voice is less harsh now. “I’m sorry… we’re obviously still able to get on each other’s nerves too easily.” You say, trying to joke to lessen the tension further. There's a small hint of a smile on his face at your response. 

 "Yeah, I guess we are," he says, chuckling lightly. Ezra clears his throat and rubs his face. "I know we're just a little tense because of this situation, but I don't want either of us to say somethin’ we'll regret, yeah?" You nod, agreeing with him. 

 “We’re too tense right now. Maybe we just should take some time away from each other. Just for the rest of the day until we cool off.” You suggest. He nods, understanding where you're coming from. 

 "Yeah, that might be for the best," he says, agreeing with your suggestion. "Let's both go off and do somethin’ else for a bit, just to clear our heads, and then we can try again once we're a little more relaxed." Ezra takes a deep breath and stretches his arms out, trying to release the tension from his muscles. "Do you mind if I go do a little diggin’ on my own for a bit?" Ezra asks, looking back at you. "It always calms me down, you know?" You nod and look around your tent, noticing the full hamper and remembering what you’d told yourself this morning. 

 “Yeah. I think I’m gonna get some laundry done.” You say quietly and walk over to your hamper. “We can talk about things later at dinner, how’s that sound?” You ask.

 Ezra nods and gives you a small smile. "Sounds good to me," he says, taking a few steps toward the doorway to exit the tent. "Maybe havin’ somethin’ else to focus on will help clear our heads, yeah? I’ll see you in a few hours." Ezra pauses at the entrance and looks back over at you. His tone still has a bit of tension in it, but he's trying to move past everything. He takes a deep breath before exiting the tent to leave you some room to breathe.

You spend the rest of your lunch and your shift doing laundry. Unlike life back home, you have to do most everything manually. So you grab your large washing tub, your washboard, some soap packs, and your hamper. For the next couple of hours, you work on your clothing, washing every article carefully, twice. You even grab your boots and helmet and clean them as well. When you’re done, you set up a quick makeshift clothesline with some rope between two trees to hang all your clothes to air-dry with the remaining sunlight. 

Ezra spends the next few hours digging on his own. He moves his way a fair distance from the campsite, and for some time you can see his silhouette against the horizon as he digs in the dirt and rocks. He seems quite frustrated at times, kicking the ground and throwing his equipment to the floor, muttering to himself. Eventually, he stops, wiping his brow and sitting on the forest floor to take a break. "Kevva..." he mumbles to himself. He lets out another sigh and lays back, staring up at the sky for a while.

 You’re tempted to walk over, but you know you should keep your distance. Things are uneasy with you two right now and your friendship with him is currently rocky at best. So instead you watch him as he eventually gives in, for the time being, heading to his own tent presumably to wash up for the evening. You grab some of your clothing from the line, the other half still damp, before you do the same, heading inside your tent to shower and leaving the rest of your clean things to dry. 

After you’re ready for dinner, you exit your tent just as Ezra’s exiting his. You’ve changed into some shorts and a t-shirt while Ezra’s in a white muscle shirt and a pair of sweats. Your eyes meet and he seems hesitant, as if he wants to say something, but is unsure of how to. You notice that his mood hasn’t lightened, the furrow between his brows still tight and his mouth turned downwards. He walks over and takes a deep breath and then speaks, his voice quiet. 

 "...Hey," he starts, "listen... I'm... I'm a little frustrated right now, yeah?" Ezra pauses, letting his words hang there in the air.

 “Yeah,” you say playfully to keep that tension from returning, even if you feel it rolling off of both of you in waves. “I can see that…” Your voice softens when you give him a once-over; “is there anything I can do to help?” You ask him.

 Ezra takes a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. "I think... I think you know that it's important for me to get a diggin’ done," he starts carefully. "... and I know that's important for us all, but... I just feel like I'm bein’ questioned at every step of the way." Ezra pauses, letting his words linger for a moment. "That's frustratin’." He asks, staring at you with an expectation in his eyes. Ezra's tone is still quiet and subdued, but there's a slight sharpness to it now.

 “Ez…” you sigh, not wanting to irritate him further. “Look, it’s been a tough day for both of us, can we agree on that?” You ask.

 "Yes, we can," Ezra answers, his tone softening a bit. He breathes in slowly, trying to let go of some of the tension he’s feeling. "Look, I know you're just tryin’ to make sure we don't rush things, but sometimes I feel like you're not even givin’ my ideas a chance." Ezra pauses for a moment, considering his words before continuing. "I know this is a serious expedition with serious consequences, but we can't be too careful, either. We have to take some risks, otherwise we won't get anywhere."

 You nod. “I know. You do know what you’re doing, otherwise you wouldn’t still be out here.” You say. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you or trust your instincts I just…” you trail off for a moment, not wanting to say what you really want to. 

 Ezra waits patiently as you consider your words, looking at you intently. He senses that you have something more to say, but don't know how to say it. A single eyebrow raises in curiosity, silently encouraging you to continue.

 “I worry, alright? Believe it or not: I worry about you.” You admit, averting your eyes.

 Ezra's eyebrow furrows and he sighs. "I know it can be dangerous out here, especially as things have been tense with the dig site lately," he says patiently. Ezra takes a deep breath before continuing, his tone getting a bit softer. "But our team looks after each other, right?" Ezra pauses for a moment, then continues. There’s obvious doubt in your eyes but you nod anyway, conceding for now. 

 “Right.” You say quietly. “Can we move on from this, please?” You ask him. “I’d really just like to talk about something else.” You say, rubbing your head as you feel your headache throb again. Ezra nods, his expression softening as he sees you rubbing your head. 

 "Of course, we can," Ezra asks, his voice almost remorseful. "I know I can get a bit tense sometimes, and I don't think I'm the most likable person," Ezra says, a bit of self-deprecation creeping into his tone. Ezra looks at you for a moment before speaking again, his voice softer now, seemingly more concerned for you than before. "... is your head still hurtin’?" Ezra asks, genuinely worried. You nod. 

 “I think it’s all the stress from today,” you mutter, your tone a bit bitter but it softens when you look at him again. “Let’s go get something to eat.” You say. Ezra nods, taking a step toward you again. He puts one of his arms out in a friendly manner. 

 "Sounds good to me. I know I could use a bite," he says, his tone still concerned over your pain. Ezra pauses for a moment to think, his expression becoming more serious once again. With a slow breath, Ezra looks at you and says, "... about that plan, though. Can we talk about that? Just for a quick second."

 “Ezra,” you warn him as you give him a long look. “Can you just drop it?” Your tone is sharper again. 

 “Just one conversation, c’mon, I really think we should-”

 “Kevva above you are so frustrating!” You say. “I don’t want to talk about this plan anymore. If you want to talk about it, feel free to go to Denver and argue about it with him and the rest of the crew but leave me out of it!” You snap and storm off to your tent angrily.

Ezra stares at you in disbelief as you storm off. His expression is a mixture of shock and confusion as he watches you disappear into your tent. Ezra takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He stares at the ground in dismay for a moment as he tries to process everything. Ezra's expression suddenly shifts to one of anger. He clenches his fists and takes a few steps toward your tent, throwing the entry flap aside, and following after you

 "What the hell was that?" Ezra asks, not shouting, but still a bit more forceful than before.

 “It’s called ‘leaving the conversation’! You should be used to me doing it by now!” You snap back, your arms now crossed over your chest defensively.

 "You can't just end the conversation because you're frustrated," Ezra snaps back, trying to hold back his anger. "I can't even ask simple questions without you gettin’ angry. You can't just brush everythin’ off like it doesn't matter! We have a plan and a responsibility here!" Ezra's tone is stern now, and the intensity is clearly increasing in his voice.

 “No, you have a plan! A ridiculous plan that is going to get you killed and I’m not going to sit around and wait for that to happen!” You snap back, marching up to him angrily.

 "Are you listenin’ to yourself right now?" Ezra asks, his voice full of genuine passion. "You won't let me just ask a question about it without snappin’ at me! We're supposed to be on the same team, but you don't trust me at all. You don't listen to any of my ideas, and when I try to discuss a strategy, you storm off like a child!" Ezra's hands are clenched into fists by his side. The energy of the argument is clearly growing more intense as your joint anger builds.

 “So you’d rather, what, I just stay in place and listen to you go on and on about this plan that you haven’t even thought through fully yet?!” You yell back.

 "And you'd rather what, yell at me until I stop talkin’?" Ezra mocks back defensively. "We need a plan, and if you have any better ideas for doin’ this, then let's hear ‘em!” He crosses his arms and leans back to watch you scramble for a response. When you don’t have one, the corner of his lip quirks up into a smug grin. “Do you?? Or are we just gonna fight until one of us gives up?!" Ezra's eyes are burning with anger now, and his expression is a mask of raw emotion. The argument is becoming increasingly heated as you stare each other down.

 “I don’t give up!” You yell back, moving closer to him.

 “Yeah, clearly!” He yells. The words hang between you two as you both glare at each other, the energy around you both intense, angry, and frustrated. You sigh and take a breath, trying to get your shit mood under control.

 “Look, just get out! I’m done talking about this. My head is killing me, this day has been utter shit, and we’re obviously not getting anywhere with this.”

 Ezra takes a step back, his expression now showing hurt and a slight sense of betrayal. "Look, I'm only trying to-" Ezra starts to speak, but he's cut off by you telling him to get out. Ezra sighs in defeat and his expression shifts from hurt to anger again. He stares at you for a moment before throwing his arms up in the air. "Fine. I tried," he says in a huff. He starts to turn around before stopping and spinning back around to face you again. "Kevvassake, do you ever listen to anyone?"

 “No, I guess I don’t.” You mumble with clear sarcasm as you turn away from him.

 Ezra seems like he’s about to leave, still clearly angry, but then he turns back, marching up to you and turning you to face him. The forcefulness of that action makes you pause as he grabs you by the shoulders firmly.

 “What the hell??” You ask him.

 Ezra stares at you, seemingly not aware of his sudden show of aggression. He still appears angry, but now there's a sense of confusion as well. He looks conflicted and troubled, but there’s a set in his jaw. A determination. He suddenly moves his hold from your shoulders to your forearms and pulls you close, his eyes shifting from determination to passion. You can barely even process it before a pair of lips comes into contact with your cheekbone; just the lightest brush against your skin. But it’s enough to send a jolt through you, straight to your abdomen in a hot zing. Your eyes widen for a moment, mainly out of pure confusion. 

 You were almost sure he was about to kiss you. But before you can voice that, he moves. He pulls you closer again, his breath coming in quick and shallow as he kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, your chin, the side of your neck. The kisses are short and quick, but they still make you weak in the knees. Your hands go to his shoulders, grabbing onto him like an anchor. You feel his smile against your skin as he works his way back up to the underside of your ear, his facial scruff tickling, 

 "Goddess above, I've wanted to do that for a very long time..." Ezra mutters between kisses as he makes his way down again. He puts one of his hands on the back of your head and pulls you even closer to him. His lips begin softly sucking on your skin, and there’s the lightest threat of teeth, even if he doesn’t bite down.

 You shiver hard, your pulse quickening under his mouth. “Ez…” you gasp. “Ezra, hold on… you’re,” His tongue darts out and it feels so smooth and warm and impossibly soft. Your thighs clench. “Oh goddess above,”

 It gently flicks against the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath coming in raspy. He kisses your jaw, making his way up to your ear again. "Do you think you can keep quiet for just a little while?" Ezra purrs softly, and you can feel his hot breath. His hand begins to caress the side of your face, his fingers softly brushing against your temple. Ezra looks at you passionately - his eyes fixed on yours. As you meet them, you notice that they’re now darker than you’ve ever seen them, the pupil almost completely overtaking the iris.

 You groan softly, curling a hand into his hair. “I’m…. I just… I don’t understand. I know how you feel about me but I… god I wasn’t expecting-“

 "You feel it too, don't you?" Ezra asks with a smile, his voice tender. He moves one of his legs in between yours, and the urge to grind yourself against it is pathetic. He can tell too, can see the way your eyes flit down as you debate it for the smallest second. He leans into you, looking at your face with desire. He brings his knee right to the apex of your thighs and gently teases you, watching your mouth silently drop open. 

 “Oh… Ezra…” his name sounds like a devotion as you groan, “We-We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t even hold a conversation right now.” You say with a breathless laugh, even as you pull him closer.

 Ezra looks at you for a moment, but that look is soon replaced with a devilish grin. "I think we can find a more suitable way to communicate," Ezra says with a smirk. He gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He now moves his lips down to your collarbone. He moves his knee away, and shoves your shorts and underwear aside, not even bothering to undress you as he uses two fingers to touch you. Your body almost freezes. 

 You gasp. “Ez!” You clamp a hand over your mouth as you realize that was a bit too loud in the now silence of the camp. He lets out a throaty, breathless laugh of his own, just a rough chuckle that makes you hyperaware of his chest against yours.

 "You really need to learn how to be quiet..." He whispers, his voice filled with desire. He moves his head a bit and kisses down the side of your neck again; his touch is softer, more delicate now. "I really wish you could see yourself at this moment," Ezra says in a gentle, yet playful tone. 

 He nudges you gently back and guides you over to the nearest wall of the tent, pinning you in place with his body. His other hand runs through your hair, tugging on it slightly as his fingers return eagerly between your thighs. "Oh, I can feel you too," Ezra whispers softly between kisses. “Ya feel that?” He asks, pulling back to meet your eyes while his touch never ceases. It even increases in both roughness and pace, making you groan again. He waits for a response, his eyes burning as he looks down at you. He moves your hand away from your mouth, a silent command for you to respond.

 “Y-Yes, I feel that, Ez.” His grin is triumphant, his eyes shining as you finally reveal how good he’s making you feel. He leans in again to mumble in your ear.

 "I want more..." he says in a pleading groan, his lips barely moving, "I want to touch you more than just this, darlin’. I want to touch you in ways that no one’s ever touched anyone before..." The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you distracts you for just a moment. "Tell me... tell me that you want me, too," Ezra whispers, his lips moving over yours, being careful not to make contact. He's so close, so, so, so close… But he pulls away at the last moment, making you almost cry out as you ache for his touch to return.

 Finally, in a longing sigh, you breathe out:

 “Please…” 

 His body trembles. His heart is beating so hard that he swears he can feel every blood cell pulsing throughout his veins. His kisses on your skin return but this time they’re hungry… starving. He has no words. All he knows is the scent of your hair, the sounds from your mouth, the taste of your flesh. The way his body is pressed against yours is driving him crazy. This feels so good, too good. He slowly brings the hand that was in your hair out, his index finger gently tracing a line along your collarbone. He smiles, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingertips. 

 You shiver at the touch of his fingertip, even that small delicate gesture making your body react. He’s touched you before but not like that. Not so gently but so clearly veiled with desire before.

 He feels your body reacting, and his heart rate increases. He wants more. He can't stop. Slowly, deliberately, he takes his time, enjoying every part of you. He gently slides his fingers down toward the small of your back, and as he feels the dip of your lower back, he presses his hand into the soft skin there. But he still doesn’t give you a chance to move. Not that that’s the first thing on your to-do list at the moment. He moves his hand lower, and he lets his fingers trace along the top of your thigh, coming just within a few inches of an area where no other man should touch you again.

 Your breathing hitches when he reaches that spot and you try to regain some composure but you can’t. A soft pathetic whimper escapes your mouth as your body already feels addicted to his touch. A sound you’ve never made around him before. 

 He feels you make the sound, and just like that, his brain stops working. He can't control himself anymore. He wants you, needs you, but he knows he should stop himself. He's pushing you into something he thinks you never thought you would want.

  "If it's too much... just tell me to stop, and I will... just say the word, and I'll back away. I'll stop, I promise you that.” Ezra says, his voice thick with lust and desire, his eyes locked on yours.

 “It’s not too much.” You respond. He grins again, a soft sound of almost disbelief escaping his throat. He runs his free hand down your back, to your hips.... and then, suddenly, slides it underneath your shirt.

 "Let me love you, yeah?" Ezra whispers. You nod, the tempo of his fingers inside you hitting all the right beats as you can’t do much in terms of talking, biting your lip so hard to shut yourself up you can almost taste blood. But all too soon your reasoning rears its raucous head, not letting you fully live in the moment. 

 “Ezra… I-I’m just confused.” You admit; your heartbeat is racing. “I don’t… I just don’t understand.” You subconsciously lick your lips, wishing he would give you a taste of him. As if reading your mind, he smiles and pulls away just a little to remove his shirt. 

 Unlike that day at the pool, you take full advantage of the sight, drinking in his skin. Your eyes drink in the exact tan, the various scars, the hair on his chest, and the happy trail leading down lower. Your own skin grows hot and you see his response in kind, turning that now-familiar shade of rose. He smirks and lets you ogle all you want, before he leans in, kissing your nose to direct your eyes back to his face,

 "We're both confused," Ezra says softly, his index finger coming up to trace the outline of your lips again. "But right now... right now is all we have, and I just want to be with you. Nothin’ else matters. This is ours, just for us, tonight. No one should know; no one has to interfere." 

 “Just for tonight?” Your tone is pensive, thinking as you look down for a moment. You shouldn’t agree to this. It would be career suicide. But he’s already said no one needs to know. 

 “This can just be stress relief.” He lifts your eyes to him again with just a tap on your chin. "And then we forget it ever happened,” Ezra asks, the excitement building in his voice. "Just for tonight, and then we never talk about it again... deal?" His hand drifts down again and your body immediately buzzes in anticipation as his fingers once again sneak their way into your underwear.

 “Deal.” 

 He smiles as you agree, feeling a wave of excitement and relief wash over him. He whispers into your ear as he comes closer, his breath warm against your skin.

 “Fuck, you’re so good for me," Ezra says. You're his, and he wants you more than anything else at this moment. You're his to love, to touch, to kiss, to taste. His face is buried into the soft skin of your neck, and he breathes you in deeply, just wanting as much of you as possible.

 You're all he wants. The taste of you, the smell of you, the heat of you, the feel of you against him. He speeds up his pace, giving it to you freely now as the sound of his fingers and your combined ragged breaths become the only sounds in the room.

 "You feel so good," Ezra whispers, his voice husky with desire. "So good."

 “O-Oh my god…” You haven’t been touched like this in ages. Your head rests against the wall and your eyes close as you don’t make one single attempt to stop him.

 Ezra watches your face, his eyes filled with want, desire, and lust. The feel of your skin against his fingertips is otherworldly, your body like fire in his hands. His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath as he watches you and feels you against him. A slow smile spreads across Ezra's face, and he leans in, his body brushing against yours, his voice heavy and sultry as he breathes out.

 "So good..." he purrs, his fingers moving slower and more intimately.

 You moan at the feeling, “I swear to god if you tell anyone about this-“ Ezra smirks at your threat, but he doesn't stop what he's doing. In fact, he moves even slower as if just desperate to continue teasing you.

 "I won't tell anyone, don't worry." He says coyly. He takes a moment to try and compose himself, swallowing hard. "But Blessed Mother, you feel so soft..."

 “Oh fuck,” The rhythm of his fingers, his words. It’s all driving you crazy. You never expected anyone to make you feel like this, especially not Ezra. And yet, here you are. Completely at his mercy.

 Ezra chuckles at your sudden outburst, his fingers pausing for a split second until he picks up again, and this time his rhythm picks up faster.

 And as soon as he does that, your breathing rushes back in, and you let out an incredible moan. It escapes your throat against your own judgment, your head tilting back to face the ceiling of the tent. When he hears that, Ezra’s entire body sings, like something awakens in him. Something desperate to hear you make that exact sound again, no matter what he has to do. Your hips begin to move, chasing that rhythm, that delicious burn from his fingers as more moans follow the first.

 "That’s right," he says softly after a moment, his voice still a bit breathless, and his eyes are locked on yours, "Do you know how much you turn me on?" he asks in a low voice. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve ached to do this for you?” The tension in your body is building, building, building…

 He doesn't stop what he's doing. He's in control now, and he can see the tension building inside you. He can feel your body giving into it, and he can't help but feel a rush of power and excitement as he watches. He's made you want him, and there's no turning back now.

 He moves faster, his fingers picking up speed and intensity again. Another moan, louder than the first leaves your mouth and you tuck your face into his neck. You muffle the sounds you’re making by kissing and licking at his skin, causing him to shudder audibly in your ear. He tastes like fresh water and soap, the scent of his body wash filling your nose and making your mind dizzy.

 “Goddamn, the night you straddled me.” He continues, his voice dripping with desire. “Kevva be damned, I almost just took you right then and there.” He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh at that. “Almost ripped your suit off right in that tower, almost bent you over the railin’. A-Almost made you mine right in the middle of camp.” Something halfway between a cry and a groan leaves your mouth and you squeeze his fingers, making him curse under his breath again. He feels the tension in your body building with each passing second, and his eyes darken with determination now.

 You turn your face towards him as if to kiss him, but he pulls back at the last possible second, instead kissing the dip under your ear to make up for it.

 “Not yet.” His voice is a low growl in your ear.

 “Wh-Why?” You ask, your voice needy and breathless as you try to hold yourself back from screaming.

 “Because I know this doesn't mean a damned thing.” His voice is almost angry as he pumps his fingers faster, and harder. He curls his fingers deep. You bite your lip hard as a muffled scream escapes you, your hips following his lead. “And I want that to matter. You understand, rook?” 

 You can’t even respond, you know if you do you’ll lose it so you nod against his shoulder furiously and he smiles. He gives you a moment to recover your composure, but he never stops his movement. You find it even in this haze and you release your lip from between your teeth and let yourself make noise again, trying to keep quiet but it quickly builds in volume and you muffle it with the skin of his shoulder. He can tell you're about to reach a breaking point. Your moans are constant now and your hips begin to falter in their rhythm, making him smile against your jaw. He knows how important this is and he keeps his pace perfectly, going silent for a full 30 seconds before,

 "You deserve this, sweetheart," he growls. “Let yourself have it.”

 It doesn’t take long at all and with a moan that morphs into a cry of his name, you break, your entire body tensing and relaxing as the pleasure washes over you from head to toe and back. Ezra grins as he watches, and when you cry out, his lips pull up into a genuine smile. He leans in closer, his smile filling his eyes as he looks at you.

 "Yeah… c’mon just like that…. good. You did s'good," he murmurs softly into your hairline, his voice filled with excitement, power, and a tenderness you didn’t expect. His hand rests in your hair, gently caressing your neck as you come down from your peak, his voice hushed as he praises you, his fingers stopping their rhythm slowly as he draws out your high for all it’s worth. 

 His touch grounds you, giving you something to anchor yourself with as your ecstasy morphs into bliss. Another, softer sound escapes your mouth as you close your eyes to regulate your breathing.

 Ezra watches, feeling relieved. Your face is flushed, your hair disheveled, but you look beautiful in his eyes. It's the first time he's seen you this way, this intimate, and he can't help but smile at the sight.

 "Are you okay?" Ezra asks, his voice gentle and caring. The look in his eyes is one of concern mixed with affection, and it warms your heart. When you nod, another shaky exhale escaping your mouth, he lets you go. He smiles one more time. “Good… sweet dreams.” He plants one final, tender but fierce kiss against your forehead before he leaves without another word. You can’t even stop him or beg him to come back and honestly, you don’t even know if you want to. One thing you do notice though: your headache is gone.

You spend the rest of the night thinking about it and… replaying it all in your head. Your mind is confused, turned on, and conflicted all at once. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he moved.... the way he made you move. 

 Suffice it to say you don’t get much sleep that night.

****** 

WOOH, damn. Ok, hopefully this being another extra long chapter (not intentional) makes up for me not posting all month hahahaha...... Anyway, I had to take some time away from this cuz you all know how I am with spice if you read my stuff I love it but HATE writing it. Also, good news: I got into grad school! I start in two weeks so I have been CRUNCHING it to get everything in order and really have not had the time to write. Anyway, that’s it, thanks a million, hope you all enjoyed, and see you in the next one!  

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[wrongdodo]

A Lesson in Alchemy

Pairing: Geralt x Fem Reader

Summary: You’ve never been a good alchemist, so it’s not surprising when your latest experimental potion leaves some… unexpected effects on your body. When the Witcher finds out about your predicament, how will he treat you? And will he agree to help?

Warnings: lactation, breast sucking, spanking, grinding, filth

Word count: 3.4k

Special shout-out to fantasy name generator for fictional plant names

Authors note: I’m really happy with how this turned out. I dared to have more fun with the plot, and I think the story flows much better. Lots of dialogue, which was fun to do. I shortened my paragraphs a bit, I feel like it suits tumblr better. I made peace with longer sentences too, so I hope everything reads okay. Please let me know what you think, I’d die for feedback.

18+ only beyond this point…

When Geralt finally returns, you can actually hear the sigh of relief that leaves your body.

He’s often gone, slaying beasts and earning coin; such is the life of a supernaturally enhanced monster hunter. You thought coped better than this - but after over a week of waiting, you’ve become startlingly aware just how difficult his absence has been on you this time. Although, in fairness, there’s a pretty good reason for that.

It’s late when the Witcher and the Bard enter the keep– the sky outside is pitch dark, but despite the late hour, the atmosphere of Kaer Morhen instantly picks up. It even begins to feel merry.

Jaskier stumbles in first, calling out and plainly in high spirits. The musician is plastered, and clearly has every intention of continuing to drink well into the early hours of the morning. A bottle of Toussant Red is gripped in his hand as he makes his way over to a table; launching joyously into some sort of story that you have little time for. Youare much more interested in Geralt.

Anyone that knew the Witcher well would be able to sense his agreeable mood. Not even Jaskier’s behaviour seems to bother him. As the Bard begins topping up Lambert’s mead with red wine, you swear you see the warrior actually smile at his antics - and with something almost akin to fondness.

You suppose they’ve both indulged in a little wine during the long journey home. Whatever their recent business, it must have paid well. You’re pleased – the cheerier the Witcher’s disposition, the easier things might be for you. What you must admit to the White Wolf is not going to be easy to say.

Tired and dirty from the road, Geralt makes the familiar journey to his room – and you follow, hearing the Bard warbling as you leave. When you catch up to the warrior’s strides, there’s just enough time to slip into the chamber before the door shuts firmly. You turn and see him, his shirt already off and balled in his large hands. If he’s pleased to see you, he doesn’t show it.

“I need to bathe. Can it wait?”

Geralt grabs a washcloth - he’s not even looking at you as he draws it over his face, then under each arm, stopping to rinse the rag into a dish of water. His tied-back hair is still streaked with a little blood; pinkish in the low light. Your arms cross hotly over your chest, making your discomfort plain. It really can’t wait, you think with frustration. So, you tell him bluntly.

“It really can’t wait.”

Your words come with a startling conviction that manages to take you both by surprise. You have Geralt’s attention now, and he turns to look at you – nostrils flaring as he takes you in with every sense.

“You smell different.”

“Is it obvious?” you hug yourself doggedly - really not in the mood to be studied.

“It is to me.”

You sigh, noticing your own gritted teeth and reminding yourself how much you trust this man. The thoughts give you little courage, and there’s another graceless, awkward moment before you’re able to blurt out exactly what you came to say.

“Geralt… I need your help. I think I really messed up.”

His head is tilted now, sternly willing you to go on. You continue.

“While you were gone, I was… experimenting. With herbs.” You suck in a quick breath. “I made a potion, but… something’s gone wrong. I don’t know if I mixed it improperly, or what…” Your words tumble forth - like a runaway apple cart, it’s a battle to keep yourself on track. When you eventually meet his eyes again, he’s clearly bewildered.

“I think it’s easier if I just show you” you admit.

You undo the strappings of your leather overshirt, dropping it to the dusty floor and standing expectantly before him. The blouse beneath stretches thinly over your chest, revealing your body clearly and leaving very little to the Witcher’s imagination. Moisture clings to the fabric over each nipple, darkening the white-ish cotton. It’s not long before he says something, but it feels minutes, squirming under his watch.

“So this potion…” he approaches, boots thudding heavily on the floor. “You… rubbed it over your tits?” a wry smirk. He’s definitely a little drunk- that’s when his dry humour truly becomes unleashed. You, however, are not in the mood for games.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

His amber-yellow stare is fixed on you now, but it feels impossible for you to meet it. He’s close enough to touch, height easily looming above your smaller frame. You notice his arms, still streaked with dirt; a recent wound beginning to heal across his chest. He smells more than a little ripe.

Slowly, Geralt reaches out large hands to cup your breasts through your shirt - his curiosity piqued as he gently rolls them in his palms. His fingers find the outline of your hard nipples. When he pinches them, the fabric darkens, and a hot moan escapes your parted lips.

You mumble shyly. “That keeps happening…”

“Hmm. Explains your scent.” You can’t tell if he’s more fascinated or darkly amused. He feels the weight of each breast with interest, easily discerning that they’re a fair bit bigger than usual.

A playful smile – quite subtle and even more rare – touches his lips, and you know you’re in for more of his teasing.

“Let’s ask the Bard,” he decides.

“Absolutely not.” You hardly have to imagine what Jaskier’s foolish reaction would be. No, you don’t want to involve more people in this mess than you absolutely have to.

Geralt’s eyes flicker with amusement at your protests. He tugs experimentally at your nipples again, drawing forth another moan - and a little more fluid.

“Maybe we should lay you out on the breakfast table tomorrow morning. The Cow of Kaer Morhen...”

You can’t stop the roll of your eyes, your thin patience diminishing even further. Although you’d often found yourself wishing that the Witcher would be more talkative, right now you wished he’d shut up. His comment has made you a little nervous… but you’re fairly sure he’s not serious.

He continues to probe. “Has anyone noticed?”

You don’t think so. You shake your head in earnest.

“How long?” he asks, continuing to run his hands over your aching chest.

“About 3 days”

Geralt lets out a huff, and it’s just short of a laugh.

“They’ve noticed. They’re witchers.” He scoffs. “It took me seconds.”

If you weren’t already embarrassed enough, that particular revelation does nothing to help. A warm flush spreads across on your cheeks and neck.

“Are they sensitive?” At last, his voice indicates a welcome hint of concern.

“Incredibly.”

“Here?”

Your breath catches as he rubs both nipples with the back of each large hand. You nod, but in truth you’re afraid to tell him that you’re sensitive everywhere.

After completing his thorough, if not gentle, assessment, the Witcher steps back and folds strong arms over his barrel-like chest. You find yourself anticipating his evaluation eagerly. His enormous shoulders lift into a shrug.

“I can’t help until I punish you.”

Gods, he’s unbelievable sometimes.

“I hardly think that’s fair!” you oppose.

“You need to learn a lesson. Can’t have you endangering yourself.” His remark might have seemed oddly caring in any other scenario. Right now, it’s just damn annoying. A slight tilt of his head directs your eyes to the bed. “You know the rules.”

You pause, dumbfounded. You’re not sure what you expected, but punishment hadn’t been remotely on your mind. With a bothered sigh, you decide that there’s nothing else to do but lay on the bed. You let out grumpy huff, not really caring if he notices. Deftly, he gathers your wrists behind your back in one large hand. In your prone position, your belly is poked by the straw of his mattress. You can’t see him now – but it’s easy to feel his heat, his presence.

“This potion. How many plants did you use?” his inquiry comes as his other hand lazily traces over your buttocks through your linen trousers. You’re annoyed to discover that you don’t hate the feeling.

“I don’t know. 8, maybe 10?”

“Hm. Call it 10.”

The first smack lands hard, stinging your arse through thin clothing. It’s suddenness tugs a ragged gasp from your throat. There’s another. And another. You begrudgingly realise he intends to give you ten. How terribly clever.

Between Geralt’s blows, his palms running across the hot, stinging surface of your buttocks, over your clothing. You’re sure your arse must be quite red, and practically glowing through the loose weave of your trousers. At the forefront of your mind, you try to keep count, but it’s difficult to focus.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

The tenth comes briskly, landing over your aching pussy and producing a yelp. You’re positively wet, and he can definitely feel it. You’re probably soaking through the thin material between your legs. Gods, his hands are big. That man could pull you apart like hot, fresh bread if he wanted to. The thought gives you a little shiver. Even when he’s dirty and grimy from a long journey, the Witcher turns you on – maybe even more so when he’s a little grubby.

You take his punishment, as you have often done before. When he’s done, you feel your hands released, and weight shifts in the mattress as he sits up. Rubbing your wrists, you see him tap his lap expectantly.

Finally, he seems like he might be interested in helping.

Your movements are unsteady as you move over to the Witcher - you straddle his lap, putting you both face-to-face. He plants a rough kiss on your neck, inviting a murmur of delight. Strong arms wrap around your middle – something about those arms send you feral. It’s easy to feel the hardness of his cock through his leather trousers, and as the heat of the situation unfolds, you really can’t blame him for being so turned on. He can certainly smell your arousal.

Geralt doesn’t ask before moving his hands to hastily unfasten your blouse, and the clumsy, sudden manoeuvre takes you a little by surprise. If he notices any hesitation on your part, it doesn’t stop him. You wrap a sheepish hand around one of his. He growls with frustration against your skin, battling the fabric, and when his rough kiss meets your lips, he tastes a little like wine.

“Do you want me to…?”

Geralt huffs in reply. His hands pull at your blouse in exasperation. “I need to see what I’m working with.”

Grasping the sides of your top, he roughly tugs it apart with a sour ripping sound. When you yip in surprise, he doesn’t slow down – his hands waste no time finding your bare, heaving chest

Your skin feels hot – everything feels hot. Your head rolls back slightly as you give in to his touch, feeling sword-calloused hands smooth themselves over each aching breast. When you’re able to take note of his expression, it’s almost concerned.

“They’re hot. Any rash?”

You shake your head no, and wince as his fingers thrum over your hard nipples. Geralt’s eyes flash with fresh worry.

“They’re hurting you.”

“Not really,” your breath catches in your throat. You’re surprised by the husky quality of your own voice. “They’re just… fucking sensitive.”

“What exactly were you trying to do?”

You immediately choose to ignore his question – but it might have been easy to miss. The sensation of his hands running over your body is completely filling your mind to the brim.

“What potion were you trying to make?” he’s more urgent now. Geralt doesn’t like to repeat himself. It’s almost as though he’s taking your problem more seriously.

“I’d really… rather not say.”

A short growl. You’ve heard that sound before - it’s his irritated acceptance. Geralt carefully lifts each heavy breast in his hands, rolling them, sensing their weight like a miller appraising two bags of flour.

“What did you use?”

You’re not used to him being so talkative while he touches you like this, and it’s incredibly hard to focus as he handles your tits in his enormous hands. The hardness of his cock beneath you is very apparent. But you know better than to ignore the urgency in his voice. You screw your eyes closed and try to focus on his questions. It’s difficult.

“Lots of things. I used… little white flowers. Bryonia, I think.”

“Do you mean cajeora?” he responds. His hands don’t stop. You shake your head, and the gesture comes across a little frantic.

“No. Not that small.” He’s taught you a little about the plants that grow in the woodlands around Kaer Morhen… but any knowledge you had seems impossible to recall right now.

“What else?”

“Opporic leaves. And something purple.” You gasp as his fingers lightly graze the smooth sides of your tits. You blurt out - “Knot bloom.”

From the subtle grunts and growls he responds with, it’s easy to tell the Witcher is listening. He’s considering the facts, working things out.

“Honeysuckle?” he asks abruptly.

You eye him in annoyance. “Is that a joke?”

Geralt’s smile is easy. You wonder if he’ll ever tire of teasing you. Though maybe you could admit temper is shortened under the pressure. Emotionally, you’re as sensitive as your body is physically.

You can’t stop your hips when they wiggle a little on his lap. “I used a plant with red petals” you finally mumble, imploring yourself to remember.

“Beggartick?” his voice is suddenly less gentle now. “You shouldn’t-“

“No, it wasn’t that… I don’t think… Ah, I don’t know.”

He’s teasing your nipples with his thumbs again and you’re so fucking wet. It’s hard to focus. Gently, he tilts your chin and you’re comforted by the safety of his eyes. His voice is a gruff rumble.

“Think.”

You whine and squirm, truly grasping to remember the facts for him. Deep breath. “It wasn’t beggartick. But it sounds like it. Be-“

“Becuger leaves.” Wow, that’s the one. How could he know that? Even now, you’re warmly reminded of his impressive knowledge. The thought relaxes you a little. You’re so pleased that you trusted him with this. You’d trust him with your life, and often had.

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you do your best to answer each of Geralt’s questions. You tell him about the monk’s root. You tell him about the blood nettle – fresh, not dried. And for a moment you’re surprised at your own knowledge too. Time spent with the Witcher really has taught you a lot.

Something about his soothing concern has you softening. You have to admit that your resolve is a little weak… days of stress and worry have taken a toll on your mind. But even knowing this, you’re surprised to find tears begin brim against your eyes. When one rolls down your cheek, he takes notice and looks up at you. You inhale a deep, shuddering breath.

“Spare me the jokes now. Am I to stay like this forever?”

Geralt’s smile is almost warm in the low light of the room. “I do have some ideas.”

“Then tell me.”

“Well… I could take you to the nearest healer tomorrow… but Roach needs rest.” You nod with grave understanding. He continues.

“Yennefer is a skilled herbali-“

“No. Not her.” You don’t doubt that Yennefer would fucking love to lord this over you.

“That leaves one option.” he says. His tone is decisive.

“Fine, do what you must.”

He smiles. “Don’t be worried. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

When his lips finally meet your breast, you shudder in response – a weary, exquisite sigh floating from your open lips. Your sensitive flesh connects with his gentle, searching tongue gratefully – your back arches naturally, pressing yourself against him. When he begins to suck softly, the Witcher is pleased to find you taste as good as you smell. Little jolts flutter through you and bloom in your chest, just behind his soft mouth.

The Witcher’s arms feel protective, surrounding you, and he too feels your stress begin to melt away. Your own limbs find his broad shoulders, locating the back of his neck and willing him closer – tighter against you. As you grind against his hardness, you hear yourself mewl with sensation.

It’s not unexpected when your climax takes no time at all, and leaves your eyes glazed and watery with emotion. Your linen trousers are soaked now, and even you can smell the arousal between your thighs. You can’t stop a gasp of loss as he releases your wet nipple from chapped lips. He eyes you wryly.

“What? I told you I’m sensitive…” you answer through panted breath.

Geralt smiles as he covers your other nipple in his greedy lips. Your hands are draped around his strong neck, fingers creeping and tugging into his dirty white hair. He loves the way your body jerks – how it grinds and lolls against him like a rag doll. You feel your clit rubbing the hard cock inside his leather trousers, and allow it. The sensation is dizzying.

You’re completely pliant in his arms. Hands wrap around the soft flesh of your waist, pulling you hungrily down against to knead against his wanting cock. Now you pant as your joint pace quickens. It’s apparent that your second orgasm will crash at any moment.

Releasing you from his mouth, his lips find your outstretched neck as your head rolls easily back. He kisses, but when he nips there, you moan - the pleasure-pain tipping you over as you slither in his lap. The sound of Geralt’s own orgasm is stifled against you, groaning as he bites gently at your flesh. In your crazed stupor, you think that it’s probably a good thing that he hadn’t bathed yet.

Your eyes close into a secure feeling of bliss. It’s only apparent that he’s recovered from his own torpor when he kisses your cheek. You now realise how tightly you’re gripping his hair, so you release it gingerly from your delicate fingers.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod, lacking any words, just for the moment. You did feel better. Much better, in fact. It could be the final flutters of orgasm, but you felt.. unburdened. Dazed, you slide off his lap and collect your leather overshirt from the floor. The Witcher lies back, stretching languidly over the bed.

“Occlamom tea. It’ll help.” comes his gruff voice - delivered quite curtly.

Your mouth gapes now, eyes wide in disbelief. An antidote? He tells you this now?

“There’s some in the pantry.” He rolls over, meeting your eyes with a smirk that borders-on mischievous

Unbelievable.

“You… you absolute bastard.” you eventually manage to stammer – but even as you spit the words, you feel they’re completely unsatisfactory to convey your utter, utter irritation.

“You were stressed. I calmed you down.” Sitting up now, his amber-yellow eyes meet yours with a touch of amusement. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You hate that he’s completely right. The guilt and worry of the last few days had gone – you have to admit how much lighter everything feels. In that moment, you’re struck by how safe you feel in his presence. It’s nice to have him back here – even if he can be a bastard.

“For the occlamom tea, you need to boil water...”

Your sudden hissed response stops him quickly.

“I know how to make tea, Geralt.”

Fastening the straps of your leather overshirt, you tug so hotly they almost snap. As you turn to leave, it’s his strong hand on your shoulder that stops you all-but storming off. Geralt’s eyes look deeply into yours now, and you know that whatever he’s about to say, he truly means.

“Don’t play with alchemy again.” His body is so close, his breath on your neck. You can’t escape the slither of guilt you feel, fearing his disappointment. “Poison is not a good way to die.”

“Right. I promise.”

Daring to plant a sweet-tasting kiss on his lips, you turn and speak to him a final time before you leave.

“Now please, Geralt. Have that bath.”

#the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #witcher fandom #the witcher smut #geralt smut #the witcher

[memory-echo]

Love Under a Leaky Parasol - Part 5

Jiro goes back to work eventually. Since he’s being hunted down by the secret police, his boss hides him in his home. One day, he gets a phone call from his boss telling him Nahoko has suffered a lung hemorrhage; a clear sign of her deteriorating health. I’m not sure if the image we see is Jiro’s imagination or if it’s factual, but the lung hemorrhage is deeply disturbing. 

Jiro goes into shock after hearing the news, but he goes into full panic mode once he realizes that the telegram his boss read to him is already two days old. He frantically changes his clothes and immediately gets himself on the noon bus to go to Tokyo by train. He wants to be there to help her and comfort her, but he fears it’s too late already. On the road to Tokyo, Jiro tries to work as a form of keeping his mind busy, so that he doesn’t give into despair, but while he’s doing his calculations, tears run freely down his face, denouncing the emotional turmoil he’s experiencing. His love for Nahoko is a driving force in his life, and the uncertainty of her condition is taking a heavy toll on him.

The minute Jiro arrives at her residence, he avoids the front door for fear of being kept for too long by her father. He can’t wait a moment longer, so he crosses the garden and spots a light in Nahoko’s room. He sees her lying in bed, breathing softly. As soon as she notices his presence, he bursts into the room and throws himself into her arms. 

Nahoko is overjoyed to hold him again, and she caresses his head lovingly. This moment is filled with a sense of longing, relief, and the joy of being reunited. Their urgent embrace is a symbol of their deep love, hope and resilience. 

Jiro apologizes, assuring her that he wished he could’ve been there sooner, and they share a tender kiss. 

As much as she loves him, as much as she is relieved by his presence, Nahoko can’t stop worrying about his safety. “You’ll catch it,” she said, with a trembling voice, fearing that the white plague would consume him as well, due to their proximity. Jiro doesn’t dwell on her fears. He says simply “You’re beautiful.” Nahoko shakes her head vehemently. His casual attitude about the risk of infection makes her feel a little uneasy. 

There’s nothing beautiful about Tuberculosis… Even though Hayao Miyazaki doesn’t show us many of the symptoms (apart from that gastly hemoptysis scene). Nahoko probably suffers a range of symptoms from anemia, loss of weight and appetite, labored breathing, fever, fatigue, general malaise… We never see her coughing nor do we hear any wheezing when she breathes, but again, Miyazaki doesn’t want to go to the nitty-gritty of TB symptoms. This particular scene is highlighted by the fact that when we see her in bed her breathing is rapid and shallow. She can't quite seem to take a deep breath anymore. 

Whichever symptoms she actually has, no person can feel at ease when they are at death’s doors. Jiro doesn’t care about the risks; he sees past the disease, into the eyes of the valiant woman he fell in love with. He mutters a heartfelt “I love you”, showing the depth of his devotion and his willingness to face any obstacle with her. Nahoko is deeply moved by his words. Tears stream down her face as she pulls him in for a yearning embrace, thankful for his love, taking comfort in his soothing presence during this terrifying moment, wishing to keep him there with her forever.

His visit has a magical effect on her. When her father reaches her room, her voice denounces a much cheerier mood, even though Jiro can’t stay for long. In front of his future father-in-law, Jiro says that the next time he comes for a visit, he’ll use the front door. Maybe he doesn’t want to fall off his father-in-law’s good graces by breaching etiquette, but Nahoko assures him that the garden is much more fun than the front door. Jiro smiles and agrees to indulge her will. After all, the garden entrance is a more secluded route, away from prying eyes, and she was as surprised as she was thankful for his spontaneous entrance. Nahoko, unlike her father, is a free-spirit and doesn’t care for that level of formality or etiquette. Jiro’s gesture reminds her of the playful spontaneity of their courtship in the mountains, and him being willing to do whatever it takes to be with her.

On his way out, Jiro says: “Is it that serious? I wish I could look after her.” He feels helpless against an enemy as daunting as Tuberculosis. Mr. Satomi has been through this process before, when he lost his wife to the White Plague. He assures him “The way to do that is to focus on your work.” In truth, there’s nothing Jiro can do for Nahoko other than succeeding at his work and ensuring a better future for her. Besides, he knows his daughter well enough to know that she would not want her illness to hinder Jiro’s dreams and ambitions. It is necessary to strike a balance between Jiro’s work and his personal life, and that is the ultimate challenge for any young couple. 

Mr. Satomi might also be trying to protect Jiro’s emotional wellbeing. He knows how emotionally draining it is to see someone you love suffer without being able to alleviate their pain, and he doesn’t want Jiro to get too close to Nahoko and then have to watch her die. By focusing on his work, Jiro will be able to maintain a sense of purpose and avoid becoming overwhelmed by the challenges of Nahoko’s condition.

When Mr. Satomi returns to the house, he finds his daughter with tears in her eyes. A whole new battle is raging inside her. She seems to have accepted her fate, until Jiro walks back into her life, although I’m not sure if she is accepting or just resigned… When we see her at the hotel in the mountains, she has this apparent serene attitude towards her life. It makes me wonder: what was she doing in the mountain hotel with her father? Well, the mountain is high in the Japanese Alps (good quality air), she gets to be there with her father (her remaining family member) at a safe distance (because she doesn’t want him to get sick), and she gets to enjoy her life while throwing herself into her art (she’s an oil painter whose passion provides her with a sense of purpose and joy). It’s the best possible scenario for the remaining members of the Satomi family. 

But then the wind rises and Jiro is brought back into her life… His love for her and her love for him rekindle her fighting spirit, compelling her to go against the cursed destiny that had been set for her after her mother’s death. In the face of insurmountable odds, love provides the strength and courage to persevere.

Nahoko accepted Jiro’s marriage proposal on the condition that she would get better from her Tuberculosis first. Only one question remains: how far along is her illness, and can she even get better from it? Because we are never given details on exactly how advanced it is, we want to think that it’s in its early stages. When she’s at the mountain hotel, she has a fever, but since she caught a real downpour, that doesn’t appear strange at first. It’s only after we know that fever is a symptom of Tuberculosis and that getting soaked diminishes the immune system’s response, do we start thinking that this fever is connected to the rain, but it’s also connected to TB. If there was any equilibrium in the disease before, the downpour might have contributed to the disequilibrium in favor of the infection. And then, not long after, she suffered a lung hemorrhage. There’s no coming back from this disease, she’s past the point of no return. Going to a sanatorium is not going to heal her, but as long as she thinks she has a shot at gaining a few months, weeks or even days with Jiro, she will give it a try.

#Ghibli studio #Ghibli movies #The Wind Rises #Kaze Tachinu #風立ちぬ #anime #Jiro Horikoshi #Nahoko Satomi #true love #Carpe Diem

[madmanmark]

The Kingdom of Sorrow (A Klonoa 2 ramble - Spoilers!)

The Kingdom of Sorrow is one of the most well executed late-game mood changes I've ever seen a game pull. Now, Klonoa 2's plot is a little bit scrambled, with things becoming relevant and irrelevant too fast for much of it to matter, but one thing is made very, very clear.

Do not connect with the Kingdom of Sorrow

Off the back of Klonoa 1, you might think "Damn, guess there's some doomsday egg in there or sinister villain waiting" and this expectation is maintained as you scramble to cripple the Ark flying straight to it. Hell, you're even given a boss where the power of Sorrow overcomes the 4 other elements to completely transform Leorina - it seems like a really bad place to be.

And then you arrive.

And there's... nothing. Empty corridors, empty living spaces, and an ominous haunting melody that almost seems like it forgot itself. It borrows bits and pieces of older music from the two games as if it wants to hide, pretend to be cheerier, before it eventually gains a little clarity as it drones on.

This is an excellent twist of storytelling, even if the rest isn't exactly consistent.

"What if everyone just THOUGHT there was pure evil sealed away?"

Your whole adventure comes crashing down. What was the point? You gathered some magic orbs, but for what? To blow up a kingdom already reduced to sand and regrets? Who would call this their villainous fortress?

Is a villain in this fortress at all?

No, there isn't. The real villains turn out to be the self-obsessed Lunateians, lost in their own kingdoms to the extent that all others cease to mean anything to them. And for the Kingdom of Sorrow? That means no shoulders to cry on. No support in the lowest of times. No healthy grievances, no one to tell you you're too harsh on yourself.

Such was the fate of the King of Sorrow, and in the end, it spelt his doom.

You have to wonder where the others went.

#klonoa #klonoa 2 #spoilers #klonoa spoilers #klonoa sweep

[vimbry]

a moomin kid oc story I've had for a while, but will never have the stamina to draw or write up, is liljekonvalj waking up one year a short time into hibernation (just like her dad). she has a play about discovering snow for a little while, before running into her older sibling hiljainen, who's always awake in winter, just before they're due to leave on their usual trip.

turns out hiljainen doesn't stay skulking around the valley like people thought they did (and never questioned, because they're a fan of the season, and being comfortable in their own company isn't out of the ordinary for them) - but actually ventures very far out of it most years, by hopping different trains and such. they've never told anyone about it because it's their little secret adventure, and sharing it would spoil that. as would their parents' worry if they ever found out; the moominkids are pretty free range, as you can imagine, but skipping several towns over in the dead of winter is another story. moomin in particular would be beside himself.

so after a little bit of squabble, blackmailing, etc. hiljainen agrees to let lilja come along with them, so long as she's NOT a bother. after a long walk to the nearest station, they sneak aboard a train as hiljainen does each year, and settle down in one of the compartments. a seasoned rider like hiljainen is usually good at making themselves scarce when the ticket inspector rolls around, but this time they end up misjudging it, and get caught red-pawed. of course, hiljainen's also a seasoned liar.

they quickly explain that it's their first time on a train, sir, and we had them with us, honest! but their tickets must have been misplaced somewhere, we're ever so sorry ("sorry, so sorry" echoes lilja, pitifully). "where are your parents, then?" asks the inspector. "they're... not with us, sir" they reply, with a mournful tone. and the inspector's slightly sceptical about this sad orphan act, but doesn't wanna push it, so eventually is like, well. fine. I'll let you off just this once.

the ticket inspector leaves, and their celebrations about getting away with it are short-lived, when they look out across the station they've stopped at from their carriage window - and see snufkin on the other platform, looking right back. but he's not really staring at them, right? he's so far away. he could be looking at something else. right?

both watch in mild horror as their dad breaks out into something more brisk than a casual walk. they're not sure he's running, exactly, but it seems... purposeful. but the train's sounding its whistle now, so he'll never make it in time - and as it soon pulls away again, the kids sink back in their seats in relief. until a few minutes later, when a very familiar coughing begins to echo through the carriage. and the sound of tottering heels soon comes to a stop somewhere in the middle

the inspector's voice is too far to make out, but snufkin's louder, cheerier responses reach their compartment, even through the closed door. "oh, dear. yes, again, I'm afraid. was it you I saw last time, as well? my memory is not what it used to be, you know." their dad's only a middle-aged fellow, but the smoky voice and many layers he dresses in age him a good deal. the inspector must be in a forgiving mood today (just their luck), because they're soon moving up the carriage again. "well," they hear him begin. "this one's occupied; but we're filling up, and I think these two would appreciate your company." there's a knowing light-heartedness in the inspector's tone, the kids notice. they wonder how far snufkinpappa's reputation stretches.

after a few moments pass by both agonisingly slow and far too fast, the door slides open. "is it alright if this gentleman shares a compartment with you two?" the inspector asks. snufkin simply smiles beside him, without recognition. hiljainen and lilja nod numbly, their shock fortunately passing for shyness. the inspector, apparently under the impression kids don't have ears or eyes, or just generally lacking in tact, mumbles something to snufkin about "orphans" and "poor little mites". "is that so," replies snufkin, eyes widening in pity. "well, it's perfectly alright with me, too". they both bid each other goodbye, and snufkin sits in the seat opposite his children.

anyway that's all I got for it!

#see I remember them #ocs #moomin

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Xiao Xingchen made many enemies during his years cultivating with Song Lan.

Now that he’s blind, they come crawling out of the woodwork to get revenge.

Xue Yang secretly kills about one criminal lowlife a week when they come sniffing around Yi City. He keeps a lock of hair from each as a trophy of his having saved Xiao Xingchen. He considered keeping their tongues but decided to keep his personal and professional lives separate.

Xiao Xingchen is completely oblivious, it keeps Xue Yang happy and relaxed, and A-Qing doesn’t object because 1) She’s supposed to be blind and 2) If anything, Xue Yang protecting the daozhang actually helps endear him to her, though she could do without Xue Yang’s demented grin as he cuts their throats. 

#I just like the idea of him ducking outside during dinner to Take Care Of Something #and coming back in an even cheerier mood #it's just something he can do for Xiao Xingchen #A-Qing isn't thrilled but it's better than the alternative and at least XXC is safe #Xue Yang is proud of himself #as he should be #he's protecting his family! #a good deed the daozhang would approve of had he known #but it's somehow more fun to keep it a secret #yet another way he holds XXC in the palm of his hand #his life tied to his life #xy #yi city #lotus hc #lotus posts #xuexiao

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

#deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post-canon #established relationship #thank u to miriam who read through most of this #and assured me that it's plenty gay!

[junoscrybeofshadows]

The Photographer and the Shadow (Inscryption fan story pt 1)

(Part 1 of a four part story of Juno's interaction with leshy before the events of the game. Next few parts will be posted over the course of the next few days. One part per day until all four parts are posted. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy it! With that all being said let's begin! --Misty)

..........................................................................................................................

Everything was quiet..too quiet..Every Isle all that was there was painstakingly silent. P03’s factory had gone completely offline, machines once powered with electrical life were powered down and left to rust. The hallowed halls of Magnificus tower lacked any magic; his students each still resided within their respective rooms but the wizard himself was no where to be found. Even the once ‘lively’ tombs of Grimora’s crypt were deathly still. Every isle was quite..all except for one. Deep, deep within the forest life continued for those who dwell in it; each one surprisingly more chipper than usual. The Angler had lost any glumness he once held. The Trapper and Trader had been excitedly whispering to each other for hours now. And the Prospector's smile was even more wider than usual. And Leshy knew why. It was the same reason why he himself had been in a far cheerier mood lately. It was the same reason that gifted him three new cards and a new eye for his game…It was the same reason that left him feeling as though the shadows were watching his every move..

“...I know you are there…” He claims to seemingly no one but himself. Raising his head from his hands, his eyes swirling with curls of orange pulsing with acknowledgment as their gaze falls onto the far corner of the room. The corner was blanketed in darkness..nothing was there beyond cobwebs and dust and yet from the depths of the shadowy corner a lone eye opens. Golden in hue and voided of any complex details, yet he could senses the discontentment and mild anger that burned within its gaze. For a moment he holds his tongue his words failing to come forth as he stares back at the yellow orb his fingers nervously tapping against his knuckles as he tries to further read the lone facial feature however as minutes ticked by he knew that his efforts were all in vain. Sucking in a deep breath of still air he exhales it quietly before beckoning for this thing..whatever it was to step closer. “Come on out now. There is no need to hide; I will not bite.”

“No..But you will fight if one comes your way..” Those words… they were mere words and yet they were able to cut through the quickly building tension in the air like a knife. What were word that in the past would have been stated kindly if not the slightest bit bluntly were now frigid and venomous… But the creature in the dark heeds his words.

The first thing to emerge is a hand. Made of inky black skin and draped in a curtain of baby blue fabric it claws at the wall adjacent to it using it as a makeshift leverage point as the rest of the creature followed suit. Seven feet in height, dressed in a blue gown a woman emerges from the dark although it was hard to tell if not for her head of midnight blue hair. She was far shorter than Leshy; at least a good two feet and yet despite it he was the one that felt small as the rest of her body is pulled from the darkened corner. Her face was expressionless. Lacking any mouth the rest of her facial features were drawn out in bright blue lines that made out the distinct details of her nose and brow line but the latter barely moves as she stares at him with a cold hearted gaze.

“...Juno, Scrybe of Shadow,” He proclaims to her solemnly

“Leshy, Scrybe of Beast,” She calmly retorts back in turn.

Silence quickly fell between them as introductions were shortly made. Tensions were rising high. Though he could not entirely tell that she was upset based off facial expressions the stiffness in her posture and the coldness in her voice were enough an indication. His finger scrapes at a scab that had formed on his knuckle, his gaze refusing too pry itself off of the other scrybe even though he desperately wanted to. He knew Juno was not a confrontational type of person. She rarely participated in fights or arguments, and anger was not something that bubbled and brewed in her blood like some of the others. Like another scrybe they both knew; she preferred to talk matters out. To find the civil solution to things without the need for fighting.

But that did not mean that she was completely pacifist; for if a confrontation did need to be made and no one else was around to do it she would be..relatively unafraid to step up to the plate. His hands twitch to grab his camera from beneath the table. Just one careful aim of it, and a click of the shutter and this situation would be over and done with in a single flash. It was that simple..however it wasn’t that simple..Juno was far faster than him. If he even tried to reach for his camera she would snatch it up before he could even reach for it. He couldn’t fight her either; she may be weaker than him in physical strength but in terms of agility he was outmatched as she could easily move through the shadows to escape his grasp; and if she manages to gather enough his own shadow all his efforts to be in vein.

“..I did not come for a fight if that’s what you’re thinking,” But fortunately he was spared the need of having to start a new conversation. “..I’ve come to…Congratulate you. It seems as though you are the victory of this round..Congratulations Scrybe of Beast. Well done.”

“..You do not sound that congratulatory..” He was right. For though Juno’s voice lacked spite; displeasure was still prominent even if she spoke in a hushed and oddly calm tone.

“..No I suppose I do not..However can you truely blame me? After all it’s rather difficult for me to congratulate someone who used such brutal tactics to get what he wanted.”

“The others have done the same in the past-”

“And yet none of them stabbed another scrybe’s eye out!”

Wait how did she-

To be continued in part 2

#mistystory #inscryption #inscryption leshy #leshy #scrybe of beast #juno scrybe of shadows #juno #scrybe of shadows #inscryption oc #scrybe oc #inscryption fan story

[cuddlepilefics]

Count on me (2)

Fandom: Stray Kids

Little: Jeongin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

Part 1 

 No one’s POV.:

It was surprising really how quickly Chan had been able to fall asleep with little Innie in his arms. The leader would have expected himself to stay up at least another hour, dwelling on the thought of Jeongin forgetting about his littlespace. Sure, they had all noticed that their youngest didn’t slip into his headspace anymore but they had just assumed he didn’t need it. Now he felt stupid for not asking his dongsaeng why he had stopped slipping. Being the oldest, he was always attentive when it came to the other members, so when Seungmin came to wake Jisung up, Chan woke up too. Still, he pretended to be asleep and only moved his arm a bit to cover the pacifier between Jeongin’s lips. He knew the others wouldn’t go to their schedules if they knew that the maknae had slipped after what felt like an eternity. Sure, they always babied their youngest but it was still different when he was in his headspace. Chan felt a bit selfish for keeping Jeongin to himself while making all the other members go to work but he knew that they couldn’t all miss their schedules and it wouldn’t cause too much suspicion if only the two of them stayed back, besides, now that Jeongin remembered, he’d surely slip more frequently in the future.

Grumbling, Jisung rolled out of bed and made his way over to the other two. Though he was surprised to find Chan in his room, the rapper figured Jeongin had had another of his nightmares and had sought comfort from their leader. Before he could get close enough to the bed to notice anything off though, Seungmin stopped him, whispering: “They’re not going today, hyung. After Innie felt bad yesterday, Chan-hyung texted me that he’d stay back with him and that we shouldn’t wake Innie at any cost.” That did a good job at waking Jisung up. He knew his roommate wasn’t himself lately and especially after him collapsing during practice the previous day, he had hoped the younger would open up but it only seemed like he was doing worse. “Channie-hyung also told me not to worry too much, he’s going to explain everything when we get back. Everything will be okay, yeah? I trust him to take good care of Innie”, Seungmin smiled when he noticed the older’s concerned look. Though not very happy about that answer, Jisung nodded and quietly went to get ready and Chan had to suppress a sigh of relief. He knew he could trust Seungmin and really had to make sure to thank him later.

Chan stayed cuddled up with Jeongin and listened to the commotion outside their room. He didn’t want to go back to sleep right away, afraid that somebody would check on them one last time and would notice the pacifier. As soon as he heard the front door click though and it became quiet, he relaxed and decided a few more hours of sleep couldn’t hurt him either after almost staying awake with the little the whole night. It was already early afternoon when he woke up to someone poking his cheek. Chan sat up, looking sleepy and confused, which earned him a giggle from the little, sitting on his legs. “Good morning, Innie”, the leader smiled, voice low and raspy after sleeping for so long. The younger happily clapped his hands, giggling: “Daddy!” Now that his caregiver was awake, he finally had someone to play with.

Seeing the little already wide awake, Chan had to shake off his sleepy haze rather quick and checking the time, he felt his heart sink.  It was almost lunchtime and he hadn’t even fed Jeongin breakfast. “Aww, are you hungry, Sweetie?”, the leader cooed, pinching his dongsaeng’s cheek. The maknae looked at him with big puppy eyes and nodded. Picking the little up and placing him on his hip, Chan chuckled: “Very hungry or does daddy have enough time to cook you pancakes?” – “Pancakes”, Jeongin squealed, bouncing a little in the older’s arms, who struggled to keep them balanced. The leader then got Jeongin settled at the table, so he could color something while Chan prepared their late breakfast. It had been a while since he had the time to really cook something for breakfast. Usually they were too busy and settled for something quick like toast or cereal but today was different. He had promised himself that he’d make today special for Jeongin after he had struggled all alone for so long. Sure, when the maknae came out of his headspace, they’d need to have a talk about going to others for help and not trying to fend for himself but for now, he just wanted the boy to be happy and forget about his worries.

“Innie, look!”, Chan exclaimed, flipping the pancake by throwing it in the air and catching it with the pan again. The little happily clapped his hands and waited for the next pancake to be flipped. Chan felt his heart beat faster when he noticed how impressed the boy looked and started to comment on all his actions like he was on a cooking show, which Jeongin found really entertaining. He soon forgot about his coloring book and gave the older his full attention. The little was so distracted from his rumbling tummy, that it didn’t even seem to take long till his daddy joined him at the table, setting down two plates and putting his coloring book and crayons away. Chan then also got some bananas and strawberries as a topping because he knew the younger loved Nutella on his pancakes but should also eat something remotely healthy. He gave Jeongin a few strawberries to much on, so he’d be occupied till the leader had spread two pancakes with Nutella, topping one with strawberries and the other with banana slices. Then he cut it into bite-sized pieces and lifted one to the little’s pink-stained lips, chuckling: “Oh no, the airplane needs to land.” The younger instantly opened his mouth and allowed the caregiver to feed him. Chan switched between feeding little Innie and eating a few bites himself. By the time they finished their meal, his hands were sticky and so was Jeongin’s face, so before he even considered clearing the table, he carried his dongsaeng to the bathroom to wash up.

Chan had thought the little would go back to coloring while he did the dishes but he soon felt a chin on his shoulder and turned around, facing a pouty Jeongin. “What’s up, cutie? Why do you look so sad?”, he cooed, booping the little’s nose with some foam on his finger. Instead of the lighthearted giggle he had expected, he only got a small smile. Wrapping his arms around the older’s middle and burying his face in his chest, the maknae admitted: “Innie tiwed, wan’ nap but I jus’ got up. Nuh, wan be lazy.” – “Aww, it’s okay, sweets. You’re not lazy, just really run down and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you want to take a nap, Daddy will tuck you in, yeah?”, Chan smiled. It had come a bit unexpected because Jeongin had been asleep for a pretty long time but the leader understood that the exhaustion that had accumulated over weeks couldn’t be fixed with a few hours of rest. “Cuddles please?”, the little pouted and Chan was quick to agree: “Sure, just let daddy finish up here and I’ll be all yours. Maybe you want to go and get your paci, plushie and blanket ready and I’ll be there in a second.” Jeongin nodded and shuffled to his room, before coming back out to wash off his paci and to collect Drippy, who had been left on the couch. A small smile spread on his lips when he remembered how the plushie had gotten its name. Hyunjin had bought it for him because Jeongin really loved goldfishes and Jisung used to move it around, pretending it was swimming around the little, and singsong: “Drippy, droppy, drippy, droppy.” To Jeongin ‘Droppy’ sounded too gloomy while ‘Drippy’ sounded cheerier, so he started to refer to the plushie as ‘Drippy’.

Popping the paci between his lips and suckling on it, he sat down on his bed and played with Drippy as he waited for his daddy. He barely noticed the door open and only looked up when he felt the bed dip beside him. With a smile, Chan opened his arms and let the younger cuddle into him while he moved them to lay down. Jeongin gave a content sigh and closed his eyes. After the caregiver had started to draw shapes onto his back, it didn’t take long for the little to doze off. Though he was glad that his dongsaeng was resting now, it hurt the leader to see just how drained his youngest member was. Sure, he knew it was bad when Jeongin almost collapsed but seeing him knocked out only two hours after getting up, was impressive and Chan was glad he had made the right decision and kept the boy at the dorm to rest. What impressed him even more was that the little’s huffed breaths lured him to sleep too. He wasn’t used to sleeping much, so he never really got much sleep even if there’d be enough time to but with Jeongin pressed against him, it somehow worked. Not for long though, at least it didn’t feel long to them when the leader’s phone rang on the nightstand, waking both of them. “Yeah?”, Chan mumbled sleepily, “Mhm. See you in a bit. Maybe gather everyone in the living room, yeah? Okay thanks, bye.” He ended the call and groaned, pressing his face into the pillow till the little started pocking his arm, curious what the call had been about.

Chan sat up and gave Jeongin a tired smile, explaining: “That was Seungmin, the others don’t know that you slipped again yet. You’re okay with telling them, right? We all really missed this side of you, so I’m pretty sure you’ll get lots of affection as soon as they’re back.” – “Minnie-hyung? And- and Minmin-hyung and Binnie-hyung and Jinnie-hyung and Jiji-hyung oh- oh and Lixxie-hyung?”, the younger beamed. “Mhm, all of them, so should we get up and maybe fix our hair, so that they won’t laugh at us too much?”, Chan chuckled, smoothing down a strand of the little’s hair. Jeongin nodded and let the older carry him to the bathroom. When they exited, they could already hear their members talking in the living room. Though they didn’t understand much, the mood seemed dull as the atmosphere was thick with worry. The maknae grew shy as six pairs of eyes were on him all of a sudden and he his face against Chan’s neck, who spoke up with a small smile: “Hey, cheer up guys! Everything’s fine, I promise, our little Innie here has just become a bit of an insomniac lately, being stressed and thinking a lot. That’s also why he collapsed yesterday, he was simply exhausted to the bone. He asked me why he never felt like this when we were about to debut. Turns out, he forgot about his littlespace and that’s why he suddenly stopped slipping. I eased him into his headspace and made sure he’d get the chance to catch up on the hours of sleep he lost. He just woke up from his nap and isn’t used to being little anymore, so he’s a bit shy but everything will be fine.”

The members had broken into massive grins as heavy weights lifted off their chests. They knew that something had been wrong for longer than just a few days but if it could be fixed as easily as having Jeongin regress again, it wasn’t nearly as bad as they had feared. Even after Chan had finished his short speech, the little didn’t dare to look up at the small crowd in their living room. Sure, he knew all of them and he had been happy when he heard they were coming but now, he couldn’t help but feel shy. “Hey there little foxy”, a soft voice spoke right next to him and though hesitant, he looked up at Hyunjin with innocent eyes. The dancer pinched his cheek, drawing a quiet giggle from the boy, who instantly made grabby hands at him. In Hyunjin’s arms, they went around to each of the other members who patiently waited for their turn talking to their youngest, so he wouldn’t overwhelmed. As soon as he had interacted with all of them, he started to feel more comfortable and urged Hyunjin to put him down, before waddling off to get Drippy and proudly introducing the plushie to them as though they had never seen it before. Jisung took the plushie and sang the small tune again, ending by booping Jeongin’s nose with the stuffed toy. The maknae laughed happily, seeming so lighthearted and carefree, before tugging on Felix hand to show him what he had colored the previous night and this morning. There were no words needed for the other seven members to agree that they wouldn’t allow their baby to lose his safe place again because his fake smile was severely lacking the spark now visible in his eyes.

Over the course of the early evening, Jeongin tried to catch up on play time with each of his hyungs, which felt impossible. He could never get enough of playing with them, feeling fuzzier than ever from the amount of affection he received. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling though and he just let himself drift, enjoying not having to worry about a thing except for making sure to spend equally as much time with each of his hyungs. Chan could see some small changes in the little’s behavior but it wasn’t until Seungmin played peek-a-boo with him that Jeongin slipped deeper than ever. At first only Chan and Seungmin noticed because the youngest continued doing what he had done before slipping even younger, which was giggling at every thing his caregivers did. His stomach had started to ache from all the laughing a while ago but he couldn’t care less, they were just too funny. Seungmin gave him a chance to catch his breath and hugged him tight, watching how the younger started to chew on his fingers. At that point, all of them had realized what was going on, so Jisung rushed off to their shared room to get his pacifier. When the rapper returned, Jeongin sat in Changbin’s lap, chewing on the chords of the older’s black hoodie and giggling every once in a while, as Changbin pulled funny faces at him.

It seemed like Jeongin had gone completely none-verbal and only replied with other noises but his caregivers knew him well enough to know exactly what he wanted every time. Though they hadn’t spent time together like this for a long time, it still felt the same, maybe even better because they were much closer now than they had been during the survival show. The little seemed to have missed them as much as they had missed him and kept crawling from one member to another to cash in on all of their affection but as it got late, dinner seemingly forgotten, he settled in Felix’ lap and stayed there. At first the others were confused but when the maknae yawned widely, they chuckled. They really should have figured that he was to tired to constantly move between them. “Aww, sleepy baby?”, the Aussie cooed, patting Jeongin’s head. The younger whined and nodded, which should’ve been Chan’s clue to get him ready for bed but after already skipping one meal of the day due to them being asleep, the leader wouldn’t allow his youngest to skip another. Instead of taking him to his room, he picked Jeongin up from Felix’ lap and swayed him in his arms, humming: “You still need to eat some before going to bed, Innie. What do you want for dinner?” He wasn’t expecting an answer but he also wasn’t expecting the boy to get so frustrated with him for keeping him up.

Hyunjin came over and took him out of Chan’s arms to calm him down again, while Felix mashed up a banana and mixed it with some vanilla yoghurt. Hyunjin calmly sat down at the table with Jeongin in his lap, holding him still, so that Felix could feed him with ease. Since it was only a small meal, Chan used the time to also prepare a bottle for the little and when he walked off to put it on Jeongin’s bedside table, he found Jisung rearranging the pillows and plushies in the maknae’s bed to create a comfy nest for the younger. He gave the rapper a smile, asking: “Hey, is it okay if I stay here tonight? I slept so much better last night than I can remember sleeping in a looong time.” – “Sure, hyung but please don’t turn my alarm off again. I almost had a heart attack when Seungmin woke me before my alarm going off at least three times”, Jisung replied. “As if you’d ever wake up from your alarm”, the leader laughed, causing the younger to join: “Hey, I do wake up from my alarm! I just decide to stay in bed till somebody violently drags me out but I am aware of the time. I wasn’t aware of it this morning.” – “Alright, alright, we’ll all have to get up at the same time tomorrow anyway”, the older chuckled, leaving to check if Jeongin was done eating.

He was done eating but it had been at least as mess as it had been this morning. Not only would Chan have to wash his face, he’d also need to get him a fresh shirt but he could worry about that when he had the younger in the bathroom. The leader didn’t want to get yoghurt on himself too, so he carried Jeongin bridal-style and let him sit on the closed toilet lid. First, he stripped the boy of his soiled shirt, then he ran a washcloth under warm water, cleaning his face and wiping down his chest. The little didn’t open his eyes again after having to close them so Chan could wash his face. He was starting to doze off right there and the leader was just about to pick him up, when Changbin joined them with one of his sweaters. The rapper owned some massive sweaters that gave ‘oversized’ a whole new meaning but Jeongin loved them, always had, so despite having his eyes closed, his lips formed a little smile when his caregiver slipped it over him. When Chan finally picked him up and carried him to bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled his face against the oldest’s neck. By the time, they were settled in his bed, with the little’s head resting against the Aussie’s chest, he was barely conscious anymore but still let out a while of protest when Chan took away his paci. When it was replaced with is bottle though, he contently suckled on it, almost finishing half of it when the older noticed his lips slowing and eventually stilling. The leader cooed at the cute boy falling asleep while drinking and put the bottle away, putting the pacifier back between his lips and saying good night to Jisung before they followed Jeongin to dreamland.

#stray kids #skz #fluff #comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #little #littlspace #agere #age regression #cute #yang jeongin #jeongchan #hyunin #jeongmin #seungin #jeongbin #jeonglix

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club VI

A/N: After the emotional turmoil part 5 caused, here is some sweet sweet redemption from Mr. Styles. One part left to go after this!! - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, drug use (weed)

word count: 15k

It was good. The whole thing was going spectacularly well and Harry couldn’t be happier. Y/N had gotten him out of his shell a little bit and while it had only been a little while, he was adjusting very well with being with Y/N for real. In fact, he got quite clingy. He was nearing in on thinking he may love her. His Aquarius side made him double back and check but every sign was there. So he made an effort to do much more than what was asked of them. He had her over a lot, and visited her at the bakery nearly every morning for coffee, and he texted her all the time. Enough that she had gotten scolded at work about it. 

‘Hi, kitten. Can you come out with me for lunch? Casual. Just miss you. Xxxxxx’ 

Harry wanted to see her for both of their lunch hours. It was something he really was trying to do right by them. Make time for them even in the most hectic stages.

Y/N was nearing her break time, fully ready to go and grab something to eat. It was quite slow today, so she had been catching up on preparing dough to freeze. Now that she was officially dating Harry the bakery actually saw a lot more customers. They often had to bake off more goods throughout the day, which never used to happen. If there were any fans that came in, they didn’t act like they were. Her phone vibrated in her apron and she smiled, seeing as Harry had asked her out for lunch. Katya didn’t mind letting Y/N go out during her work day if it was to see Harry, she knew he was a busy man and that later in the year she wouldn’t see him much at all. 

‘hi bunny, where abouts shall I meet you? 🥰’

‘Little cafe a few streets over. I’ll meet you there.’

She had never been happier. Y/N let herself go completely with Harry, everyone had noticed how much cheerier she has gotten since being with him. Also the regular sex helped. “I’m going for my lunch. Meeting Harry nearby, so... I’ll be back in an hour or so? Text me if there’s a rush.”

Harry was beyond excited. It was the neediest he had ever felt in a relationship, if he was being truthful. Y/N took it all in stride but he would get Whiny when she couldn’t stay the night, or always asked for one more kiss. It was most likely because he was finally comfortable around her. Vulnerable. He was okay with pouting and hugging at her and she took it all with a wide smile on his face. And now that his mother and sister knew they were really dating, they were dying to get to know her. He had gotten a few texts that they’d followed her Instagram, which had amassed half a million followers. In branding terms, it was one of the most successful relationships in PR. It was real now though. Harry was going to insist she take the money for it because she had to deal with him, even if she didn’t use it on herself. He pulled in and got them a table near the back, waiting patiently for his girl to come in. He missed her and it had only been a few hours since he’d come in for coffee. Of course the bakery staff loved when he came in, because he tipped heavily and gave high praises.

A short five minutes later Y/N had made it to the cafe, spotting Harry near the back as he often tended to do. She had seen him earlier, but she really couldn’t help but mentally comment on how cute he looked. Be it the fan in her piping up. Y/N smiled one of her wide smiles at him, jogging a little to him with open arms as she got closer to him. 

“Hi baby.” She cooed, hugging him before pecking his lips softly. “How’s your day been so far?” 

“My, sweet girl.” Harry sighed. It was a relief to feel her back in his arms. It was a bit embarrassing how much Harry worried about her. It was sad because there had been 2 times he would panic and she would call him back and promise she was okay, she was showering or driving. But now that he had a person he cared this much about, it was overwhelming. It was like once he let go of that fear a bit, the emotion flowed in very quickly and absorbed into his brain. Harry loved it though, really did like how he felt so much for her. She looked utterly adorable in a rainbow striped shirt and some cuffed jeans, and it made him want to coo. “Look so cute.” He sighed, squeezing her hip before helping her sit. It wasn’t needed but he wanted to. It had been a long day so he had gone casual. 

Y/N was a smiley mess when she was with him, she swore he’d give her premature wrinkles on her baby face if he kept at it. “thank you, so do you... that shirt makes your chest look good.” She commented on his outfit, genuinely enjoying the sight. She liked his casual attire.

“S’been okay. Went to the gym and then down for album clean up. You know how it’s been lately.” Hectic. “Wanted to bring you with me to the studio tomorrow, actually. If that works. I want you to hear a few songs.” 

“You want me to come with you?” Y/N said excitedly. “Tomorrow? Yeah I can do.” Y/N nodded, knowing she kept all of her days off free for him. “I’ll go home real quick after work and grab some things and I’ll come over.” She nodded, knowing he’d want to see her tonight because he was being extra needy. Y/N looked over the menu, finding something she was in the mood for. “Is it weird to have pasta for lunch? Cause I want pasta.” She spoke half to him and half to herself. “I’m gonna get the gnocchi in the red sauce. There is tons of cheese on it.” Y/N rubbed her hands together with excitement.

“Not weird at all, baby. Don’t worry.” Harry really didn’t think Y/N could do any wrong at this point. She was lighting up his life. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time and he would do anything to keep it going. The fact she was sleeping over again was even better to him. It meant kisses and cuddles and perhaps a good round of sex. That was something else he looked forward to. It had been amazing. Something he couldn’t ever forget in his life. Harry was set for it. 

“That sounds perfect. Think m’gonna get... a veggie burger probably. Sweet potato fries. They’ve got that organic raspberry lemonade here, so I’ll get that as well.” He was on a bit of an organic kick, another reason he suggested this place. They wouldn’t talk about the dominos he ordered 4 nights ago after good sex. Nope.

Y/N smiled at how excited he was about the raspberry lemonade, he was so cute. “That sounds tasty, I’ll have one too.” She said, closing the menu and setting it to the side. Dating Harry was like a dream. He fed her well, gave her attention, fucked her good. There was nothing else she needed. He seemed happy as well and that is what was most important. 

The fans feedback was something that surprised Y/N. She tried to stay offline mainly because she had a nasty habit of reading comments. To be honest, most of them were really nice and made her smile, others were— filled with jealousy. There were a lot of comments about how they’d never seen Harry this happy and how they loved that she was a normal girl. It’s what she liked to hear really. 

“I’m actually really excited to go to the studio with you, Aw.” Y/N smiled, “it’ll be fun to see you in your element.” She was beyond excited to meet everyone on his team on the music side of things, his band mates. Y/N loved the music side of things, she would love to see how it was done.

“I just am excited to get you into all the aspects of my life.” It was weird. For how commitment-phobic Harry had been before, he was ready right now to integrate her into every part he possibly could. Weave her into any fiber and keep memories wherever he was able to get them. Maybe it was a bit of fear of losing her but, majority was just because he was truly falling for her every moment. “Everyone is very excited to meet you, my darling. Especially my mum...” He winced as she choked slightly on the provided water. They had to act casual when the waitress took their order, but he felt her eyes burning into him as skin as she left. “Babe... she called me and I couldn’t stop talking about you and how we had been hanging around a lot and s’why I haven’t called much. I told her what happened lately and now she’s been biting at me to try and get the both of you together. Gems as well.” He knew Y/N was a little intimidated by his mum and sister but there was no reason to be. They already quite liked her from what they saw. “Oh— and I dunno if you follow them but, they’ve followed your Instagram.”

His mum? Oh god. Y/N couldn’t have been more nervous now that Anne was aware of her existence, knowing what was out there on the internet. It was a natural step though, she knew Harry would want her to meet them at some point. But being a fan of Harry’s meant knowing who his family were and adding them on socials. Y/N took another sip of her drink as he told her that they followed her on Instagram, she nearly choked again. 

“They did?” Y/N asked, setting the drink down. “Of course I follow them, babe, been a fan for a long time of course I’m going to follow your mom and sister. Do you even follow me on Instagram?” She thought that was actually sweet that they had gone and followed her before having met her. Y/N knew she had nothing to be nervous about, but she was. They were so important to Harry and she wanted them to approve.

“Wait... I don’t.” Harry wasn’t huge with social media at all. 9/10 he was playing phone games or messaging someone or watching videos but he hadn’t realized he hadn’t followed her yet. That was the stupidest thing. So he took the phone out, handed it to her with a large grin on his face. “Type it in for me, but I wanna be the one to press the button.” He was being silly but he knew that the fangirl in Y/N would be grateful for that. He loved it too. How she sometimes got giddy looking at him. It was easy to tell. 

Y/N took his phone and searched for her name, shocked when she saw the sheer amount of followers she had gained. “Can’t believe you’re mom and sister followed me before you.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she handed him the phone. 

“Wait wait wait, let me take a video.” Y/N giggled, pulling out her phone and hit record. “Here is the moment I’ve been waiting for, go on babes.” She cooed, smiling as he hit the button and continued to film just because she thought he looked cute. She did that thing where she zoomed in on his face, “Ugh choke me king.” She ended the video after catching his reaction and laughed. 

Harry heard her phone ding. Finally. “Feel like an idiot. You’re with me every night and not even following you.” He shook his head. “Never gonna unfollow now. Unless you stop making lemon bars. Cause... I’d be very upset with you.” He teased. He really did eat his weight in them. “But they already really like you, love. Really. My mum keeps sayin’ how cute you are and how sweet you seem.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. A follow from you is not worth as much as a quality cuddle.” Y/N admitted and took a sip of her lemonade. Harry’s social media presence was always under a microscope but she was positive that people didn’t question why he hadn’t followed her. “aw wait really? She’s an angel. I watch her Instagram stories of the cats and they make my day.” Y/N blushed, “but I am excited to meet them. Nervous, but excited.”

“She’s probably got a kitten lined up for you to adopt. Swear. She sets up all of the people I bring around with cats. My sister, her boyfriend. My childhood friends. She’s a cat whisperer.” Harry wasn’t even kidding. Anne has a way with them and matches them to humans. “Also, why did you ask me to choke you? I mean, I will. But later.” He was a bit stupid when it came to fan language, but Y/N seemed to know that type of stuff. He figured she had an account but he only went on every so often. It was amazing to think that she was already familiar with his habits. Some may find it weird but he loved it. “You’ll get both that and a quality cuddle at home but, you’re an odd biscuit.” Harry sniffed out a laugh before putting his phone down. He would be searching through her account far and wide today and have questions later. 

Y/N laughed a proper laugh at his comment, “you really don’t check twitter as much as people think you do, huh baby?” She asked and reached out to take his hand just cause she wanted to hold it. “It’s like... when you find someone really attractive, in Internet culture it’s common to say things that are super outrageous that you would think to yourself but usually not say out loud.” Y/N tried her best to explain but it was just a strange concept. “So when I say, choke me king, I mean it... but also it’s just another way of saying you look really hot.” Y/N smiled, laughing a bit because she felt like it was common knowledge, but then again Harry wasn’t a hardcore stan. “promise me you won’t judge me for what I’ve said about you on the internet.” She knew better wouldn’t, but he would tease her. 

“Not going to judge you, my love. I don’t judge other fans whether. Everyone has their little vice. Their words. Their hobbies. Some people have me as their hobby or distraction? That’s great. I’m happy I can be that for them.” He had an appreciation for them that ran deep. Every single one. “But I’m interested to learn what it is. The lingo and all that. I want to learn about the culture and be more aware of it.” He suggested. “Can you teach me tonight?” Y/N would be the perfect tutor. She was a fan for years. “Now. The real question— what did you want to do for dinner tonight? Go out or eat in.” He figured eat in. “Probably will do take away because I’ll be too tired to cook. But you’ve got your key, yeah? I’ll leave some cash with you when we leave and you just order what you want for when I get home.” He could come home to Y/N in his house and that was incredibly amazing.

“You read my mind.” Y/N hummed, “I’ll figure out something for food, just text me when you’re on your way.” She had wanted to cook for him. She figured it would be something nice she could do for her man after a long day at work. It was essentially just a domestic simulator. She also wanted to pick something else out to wear underneath one of his t shirts. She had a really good idea.

“I’m excited to hang out with you tonight, love. I know it’s every night but I just don’t get tired of it. You make me so happy, you know that?” Harry's voice dropped, a shy smile on his mouth as he grabbed her smaller hand. “I hope m’not annoying.”

Y/N pouted in awe, squeezing his hand a little tighter at what he said. “Aw angel.” She said softly, “I swear I’m the happiest girl in the world all because of you.” She spoke quietly to him. Harry got shy around her sometimes and it made her heart swell up because he was her baby and he was the sweetest man alive. “Could never annoy me, you keep forgetting I’ve been enamored by you for nearly 10 years.” It was true. She doubted he could ever annoy her, she has spent every day of her life of the past 9 years thinking about him in some way shape or form. Y/N loved his attention and truly felt like she needed to be smothered in it after being so deprived.

Harry really did fear annoying her. He was still working on making it up to her for hurting her. It was clear that Y/N was basically over it and thrived off of the coddling and attention she got now but he still worried about it. From his past relationships, he was told he was a bit clingy and smothering and boring. Y/N hadn’t made him feel any of those things. 

“It tickles me that you were a fan. I love it. Makes me sad that I didn’t meet you beforehand though, at the shows... we could have been together for a long time before this.” Harry knew that he would have found her incredibly attractive even before. There was just something so incredibly drawing about Y/N that had Harry in awe. “I’m so lucky I met you.” He often became soft when it came to Y/N. The girl pulled things and emotions out of him he had never really been comfortable showing. “I’m happy that you aren’t annoyed though. Cause I plan on being around you for as long as you let me.”

Never did Y/N think that she would end up in the position that she was in right now. With Harry sitting across from her, looking and speaking to her in awe. She felt like she was the real life ‘Y/N’. Everything that happened in the last 5 months would say so. “Well you don’t really meet fans that much do you? Have to be insanely lucky.” Y/N said, stirring the straw in her drink. “You really think you would have fancied me?” She blushed at her own question, “would you have seen me and wanted to get to know me? I can’t imagine you’d ever do that.” Y/N said softly, feeling like it was unrealistic. Sure she thought she was beautiful, but she didn’t think she was show stopping or anything like Harry was making her out to be. Especially in her younger years. “We are lucky to have met each other.” Y/N smiles fondly, squeezing his hand a bit more. She really was lucky that Jeff had found her and picked her out of a bunch of contenders. She wondered what made Jeff pick her, wondered why she was the first person they asked and that they were insistent on having Harry date.

She truly didn’t understand just how attractive Harry thought she was, or how amazing he found her. Which was sad but also, he could understand. Millions adored him, apparently, and he couldn’t process how or why. Still. He wished Y/N could see her how he saw her. 

“I think I would have. But I know you won’t believe me, so.” He chuckled at her, shaking his head before he finished off his food. In the front, he could see two fans patiently waiting. “Hey— Wait, Y/N? There’s two fans up there. I want to go say hi and thank them for not interrupting but I dunno if you want to come or not.”

They hadn’t run into many fans at all because of their planning times, but now he was quite excited to. He did keep to himself and met fans when he came across them but he knew how to camouflage or blend into the streets. He was to himself and both he and Y/N had gone to get purposely photographed, but this was different. It was his favorite when fans waited for him and didn’t just interrupt.

Y/N turned her head to look at the fans, smiling at them and waving. She then turned to Harry, “I’m sure they just want to meet you babe, I can’t stay back it’s okay! If you want me to come with you I will.” Y/N said softly, genuinely not wanting to encroach on Harry’s time with his fans. 

If she was in the fans position, she’d want personal time with Harry and though she knew the fans quite liked her she still didn’t want to assume they wanted to meet her when they actually wanted to just meet Harry. She felt like the girls were super kind though, seeing as they had the decency to wait and not interrupt when they were clearly on a date. Y/N didn’t mind him going to meet his fans at all, in fact she would let him take his good old time. She knew how important it was for the both of them, and frankly, Y/N wanted everyone to love up on her boyfriend. She’d have all the time in the world with him.

“Come with me.” Harry suggested, taking her hand in his and throwing some money on the table. Enough for a good tip, and then some. Her small hand felt secure in his as he approached, only dropping it when he went to hug the both of them. 

“I’m sorry if we’re bothering you.” One said shyly. “We didn’t want to interrupt.”

Harry just smiled. “Not at all. You didn’t interrupt, I appreciate you waiting.” The girls were giddy, and it was adorable. 

“Oh— Y/N, right? we follow your instagram. You’re so pretty. All your photos are amazing but you’re even prettier in person.” 

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” Y/N cooed, going in to hug them without them asking. They were so sweet, they deserved all the hugs possible. Harry was proud of that. People were complimenting his girlfriend and loving her and he was thriving because of it. Everyone loves Y/N. That’s how it should be. 

“You did really good, Harry. She’s so nice.” The other one said shyly. He could feel his ego expanding as he nodded. 

“I did indeed. Now. Did we want photos?”

“Here, let me take them.” Y/N offered, taking about twenty photos on each of the girls phones at different angles because she knew that’s what she would have wanted. “Give me a silly one now, go on.” She directed, knowing that it would be really cute if each of the girls had variations. Again, it’s what she would have wanted. “Do you guys have Twitter?” Y/N asked with a hum, “mind if I give you guys a follow?” She asked shyly. She really liked stan Twitter and just because she was dating Harry now didn’t mean that she wouldn’t still tweet about him.

It was a few photos and chatting, and Y/N had stolen the show. It’s just how it was. She giggled with the other fan as they took their photos and when they switched so the other girl could take her pictures, it was the same thing. Y/N had her own little friends now. Harry’s interest was stroked. Oh? A twitter. He hadn’t even thought about that. A damn Twitter. Fucks sake, she had a fan account! He had to find it. There had to be some funny and sweet things tweeted on there, right? He sure as hell hoped they were sweet, anyways. Some of his fans could drag him to filth and he knew it. While funny— he wasn’t sure what Y/N would be like. 

“Yes! Yes, we would love that.” 

Y/N followed the both of them, smiling as she saw they were already following her and it made her feel all soft inside. It was really sweet. “okay amazing, I’ll be seeing you on my timeline then.” Y/N hummed and pushed a few pieces of hair behind her ear. 

Harry watched with a little smile as she exchanged twitter stuff with them and was so fucking happy. None of his other relationships had gone too well with fans. Same with the girls. They’d not really been the biggest fan of the fans, ironically. They could be invasive and rude to protect him but, he knew it was all in the love of their hearts.

“I hate to cut this off ladies, but Y/N has to go back to work. Her sister will be a pouty puppy if she’s late.” He said regretfully, gently placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Lovely to meet you both!”

Y/N looked over at Harry, almost forgetting that he was there for a moment but he was right. She set her hand over his, “it was so nice to meet you, have a great rest of your day!” She spoke, watching as the two of them turned to walk off before going to give Harry a hug. “That was so cute.” Y/N hummed, “can’t believe they were so nice, I was almost expecting them to just give me a small hello but that was— Aw.” She was truly happy they accepted her as his girlfriend. She knew that fans had never been approving of his girlfriends so it meant a lot that she made the cut. “You’re also so cute with them, I cry.”

“It was incredibly cute, but you were the reason.” Harry laughed. God. He adored this sweet thing so much. “It’s so nice to see fans love a girlfriend of mine so much. They really aren’t huge on people in my life and are so overprotective— well, you obviously know that.” He forgot for a moment that she knew all too well because she had been a fan once. “Speaking of, actually... I want to know what you all thought of my other relationships. Think about it and tell me tonight during my cute little fan talk lessons.” He had to part with her at his car, pouting slightly when he kissed her a few times. She tasted like the raspberry lemonade they’d been sipping on. “Here’s the money for the take away, just order whatever you want and go home before me.” He didn’t realize he was calling it home so much. But it was too soon to ask her to move in. Right? Yeah. So he just tried to get her over as much as possible.

Y/N raised her brows as he told her he wanted to hear about what she thought about his past relationship. “Are you sure you want to know?” She asked, pecking his lips quickly because she couldn’t resist it. Plus, Harry was okay with them kissing in public which was nice. “Alright, baby.” Y/N hummed, pecking his lips a few more times before giving him one last hug. “I’ll see you later. Have fun at the studio.” She told him before going off into the bakery where she was met by her smiling sister. Katya was just so happy to see her so happy.

The rest of the work day went by pretty quickly and Y/N was happy about it. The little break in between really did help. She quickly nipped home to pack an outfit to wear to the studio tomorrow, but also to change into something more cozy adding something saucy underneath. He wouldn’t suspect a thing. Y/N had also decided to pop by the grocery store on her way to Harry’s, getting some ingredients for a nice stir fry that she intended to cook up in time for him to come home to. She felt like it would be much more sweet than take away, they always ended up ordering out when they were together.

Harry had a long day in the studio, and he was tired. All he wanted was to curl in the bed with Y/N and play the food television channel and have her play with his hair. It had been on his mind all day that he was going home to her and he was so unbelievably excited about it. 

‘Comin home now my kitten (: xxxx’ 

He had sent her that before getting in the car, sighing happily as he turned it on to start the journey home. He was buzzing over the idea of Y/N just living there. Coming home to her and not having an empty home. Maybe she could expand the bakery chain they had to LA and stay there when he did more recording? Wishful thinking but, he wanted to have her at all times even if it wasn’t possible. However the day got even better when he got home and stepped into the kitchen, seeing a sight that he was beginning to hope was a forever thing. Y/N had the music on his speaker, swinging her hips as she sang along to some music. But more importantly, she was cooking dinner and there was a plate of lemon bars on the counter. 

“Think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Harry was incredibly down for a domestic night in. What others had said was boring, Y/N was voluntarily doing it for him.

Y/N started cooking when Harry sent her the text, wanting to make sure it was nice and hot. She had taken the liberty of making herself at home as she usually did, connecting to the speaker and just jamming out as she took over his kitchen. Y/N wanted to make it as thoughtful as possible considering Harry had been so sweet to her, setting the table all cute with some candles. She also had made sure to bring some lemon bars over for him to have on hand. He loved those things. She heard him come in, lifting her head up and smiling one of her wide smiles at him for the third time today. Y/N was always happy to see him. 

“Rightly so, cause you’re an angel.” Y/N commented, running over to greet him properly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and got on her tippy toes to be level with him so she could kiss him. “You sir, go change and get all comfy. I’m just finishing up with dinner, it should be around 5 minutes.” She told him, pecking his lips once again. Y/N wasn’t sure what’s gotten into her today, but she was feeling super appreciative today. Even more so than usual.

“Mm, I dunno...” Harry muttered. “Should just have you for dinner, hm?” He playfully nipped her bottom lip and felt the girl squeak and giggle as he gently tickled her sides. There was something about her in his clothes, in his kitchen and making the both of them food that was utterly arousing to him. Beyond it. He wanted to bend her over the counter but his stomach had growled in protest. “I’ll change and freshen up. Keep lookin’ proper fit and making good food.” He playfully swatted her behind before placing his keys on the counter and working up the stairs to his room. He changed into a Grey sweater and some basketball shorts, leaving his feet covered in socks. A beanie was thrown on too, knowing that Y/N had mentioned it to him a few days ago when she saw it in his closet.

“Later, later...” Y/N hummed, smiling smugly at him at his comments. She was just so glad he was home, she felt like she could finally relax and she was finally content. “go.” She pecked his lips again, deciding she too would smack his ass as he turned around to head up stairs. That really was her man. 

Y/N was getting lit to her playlist, various types of music on there including some trap, because who didn’t love listening to some trashy trap music from time to time? It was good hype music too. “You know why these bitches love me? Cause baby don’t give a fuck. I be fixin' the weave while she suckin' my dick pull it out, then I titty fuck” She rapped along to the lyrics of ‘Cash Shit’, startled as Harry started to speak. 

“It smells amazing, sweetheart.” Harry walked into the kitchen to see her swinging her butt around, yelping when he spoke. “What? Why are you stopping the show?”

Y/N turned down the music a bit, blushing a bit and went to plate the food as it was ready. She looked at Harry as he asked why she stopped the show, shaking her head. “Cause you can get a private one later.” She shrugged, deciding that would be more effective than whatever she was doing in this kitchen.

Harry brows raised up and he took her word for it. A private show? Hell yeah. When he had been spooked at the strippers for his 19th birthday party, he would be very happy to see his Y/N run around and dance for him. Especially in his clothes. 

“I’m hungry, so I can wait for the show.” He laughed, turning the music down and grabbing the plate she had made up to bring it to the table. He grabbed the drinks and set the table up for them, humming as he did so. It hadn’t been very long at all with Y/N being his real girlfriend, but it was the most comfortable he had ever been with someone. He would tell her that later but he was relishing in the comfortable and warm energy in the home.

Y/N walked over to the table once everything was in order, taking a seat next across from Harry. She lit the candles she placed on the table, winking at Harry as she did so. “Some romantic ambiance.” She teased, setting the lighter down before looking down at her food. She loved stir fry and asian cuisine in general, she thought it was delicious and quite easy to make. Y/N took a forkful into her mouth and moaned, doing a little dance. It was really good, she hoped that he enjoyed it. 

“How was the rest of your day? How’d the studio session go?” She asked, genuinely curious because well, she loved hearing him talk about music. Y/N was sure he never got tired of talking about it, but also, it was different talking to her about it than an interviewer per say. “The bakery was quite busy... it’s getting super busy lately and I think it’s because of you actually... you’re a loyal customer and now everyone wants to try.”

Harry loved her reactions to food. She always got so excited and pleased with it and gave adorable little reactions that had him nearly cooing. Even before they were together together, he had found it endearing. 

“The session was good. Finishing up a song. You’ll be at the tail end tomorrow which is kind of boring but also interesting. It’s a lot of re—recording things that aren’t just right, moving things around, trying different takes. But I think you’ll enjoy it. You always seem interested in it.” He felt that she would be the perfect candidate for a third ear. “I’m glad we can get people in there to try. They’re bound to end up repeating customers too.” He had no doubt. “I’m excited to see how much it grows from now on. If I can help in any way, I would really like to.” It was an honest offer. When he took a bite, he hummed happily. “Hm. This is really good, baby.” He complimented. “‘Not only a little baker, but a cute chef on my hands too?”

It warmed Y/N’s heart to know that he wanted to help her with the bakery the best he could. She and Katya put her heart and soul into it, so to see it start to take off was truly incredible. “Thank you baby.. and I’m glad to hear you had a good day.” It just seemed like the two of them seeing each other throughout the day improved their work ethic too. They really were so good for each other. “A domestic goddess I am.” She joked, taking another bite because she really was hungry as well. “I figured it would be nice to cook for you since we’ve been eating out so much. Have a nice relatively healthy meal.” Y/N shrugged and took a sip of her water. She truly didn’t mind cooking either, much like baking it was one of her passions. “I’ve known you for how long now? Like 5 months and we’ve been properly dating for like a month?” Y/N wasn’t exactly sure, she had to look, but roughly those were the numbers. “Wow...” she chuckled to herself, realizing just how deep she was in already. Y/N often fell deep for guys, giving them 100% straight out the gate and kept it consistent. She’d never really had any proper luck. Harry was her first actual boyfriend. “I usually eat a lot healthier, but I like to focus all my time with you on you, so I haven’t been cooking much.” When she went home before he would cook himself food or order from nicer places or go out with other friends but now he didn’t want to waste a moment. Not when Y/N was around.

“A proper month, huh? Feels a lot longer for some reason.” It was just an incredibly comfortable dynamic between them. They just got one another perfectly. She hadn’t given up on him when he was an asshole and he was always going to remember that. “5 months sounds correct. Although I wish I hadn’t been such a tool the first few, I’m glad I get to make it up to you now.” Y/N would soon even be flooded with gifts and a huge surprise for her birthday. He had stopped by the bakery to tell Katya on one of Y/N’s off days so he could figure out how to help with her absence. He was having a friend from Cheshire come down to help while Y/N was away with him. “It feels a lot more comfortable with you. Like... dunno how to explain it but it’s something that I haven't felt with anyone else. You know?”

Hearing Harry say that made Y/N incredibly soft. All she had ever wanted was to make Harry feel comfortable and loved. He deserved it. She felt like all his previous relationships, from what she knew about them, he felt like he had to prove himself in some way and it hurt her heart to think about. 

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that.” She started, “you’re so special to me. I know I don’t say it a lot, mostly because I’m still so in my head about trying not to freak you out. I always knew that if I ever got to date you that I’d make you the happiest man in the world... and I’ve made that my mission daily.” Y/N blushed, looking down at her food before taking another bite because she felt like she could ramble about how much she cared about him for hours. If she wasn’t careful she’d end up saying the L word. She loved him. Properly. Not just in a fan way, but in a true romantic way. Y/N had grown to get to know him and all his quirks that many didn’t know about him, she’d gotten to experience him as a lover, as a friend, as her number one fan. And she loved him, she was positive.

“Angel... I don’t want you to censor yourself around me. I want to know what you think. Even if you think it’s cringey, I can almost guarantee I want to hear it.” Harry promised. Any thought of Y/N’s, he would die to hear. “I mean it. I want to know all about your little likes of mine. I went on twitter today and poke around quietly to see some fan accounts. It’s interesting to me how little things I do, they like so much. I know that in the band it would freak the other guys out a little but... I guess for me, I’m intrigued with how it works and what things my fans really like me doing.” He was an innocent puppy when it came to those things. “But let me tell you... that you’re already making me the happiest I’ve been. So you’re right on track. Especially cooking me good food and giving me someone to come home to.” His smile was genuine and soft to her. “I had been lonely for a long time.”

“Okay but like, I don’t think you understand the extent.” Y/N blushed, knowing he said he could handle it but she was nervous because she knew it would come off very obsessive even though she just really cared about him. So fucking deeply she cared about him. It was only amplified now that she consistently had him as a part of her life. “Baby... that’s so cute.” She pouted, wanting to smother him in kisses. Y/N constantly just wanted to squeeze him, attack him with kisses as he often did with her. Everything he did just sent her. “You can um.. look through my Twitter after dinner if you’d like. I post a lot about you on there.” Y/N explained, it was strictly a stan account. “You’re never going to be lonely again. And I mean that.” Y/N said genuinely, knowing that if things continued to go this well she would happily marry him. She had been wanting nothing more. Dating Harry was even better than she had ever imagined, and though she knew they could get in little fights here and there, they’d always find their way back.

Harry didn’t plan on this having an end date. His Aquarius sun had fought him a bit in the beginning, being so sure that Y/N wasn’t the one, but once they’d decided on being together? He was keeping her. There was a lot of stubbornness in Harry, and he had decided Y/N was the one for him. 

“I’m not lettin’ you go so I’m glad you've come to terms with it.” He smirked at her. God, he adored this pretty girl with his whole heart. It was entering love territory though, and that oddly didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would. Sure, it was scary in some ways. Letting her have his whole heart in his palm. But he trusted her. “But you’re giving me your Twitter? Oooooo.” Harry wiggled his brows. “Gonna read all your direct messages too. I’m very excited to see what you could possibly have on there.” He knew there had to be some real shit because she groaned and blushed. “Can’t take it back! Nope. It’s fine for me to know the true fan in you. But it isn’t going to freak me out, baby. After dinner, we can settle on the couch or even in bed and cuddle a little. Been lookin forward all day.”

A calm feel over Y/N as he told her that he wasn’t letting her go. She believed him. She actually believed him and that was the best part about it. Never in her life had Y/N ever felt truly cared for and accepted, never had she expected it to be Harry. She had always wanted it to be him, dreamed about it being him, and the fact that he was suggesting she really was the one for him? God she couldn’t put that feeling into words. 

“Yes I am, don’t make me regret it.” Y/N said in a stern tone though it really had no bite behind it. When he mentioned direct messages she fumbled with her fork. “Oh god, I don’t even know what I sent—” Y/N shook her head. He didn’t follow her on twitter but she had had someone put her in a group chat with him and then leave. Essentially gifting her a dm with him. A cuddle did sound really nice though, she’d let him read through it though just so she could listen to his voice and relax with him. Y/N knew there would be some funny tweets and some emotional tweets. Just a roller coaster of things really.

Dinner was relaxing and calm and he found himself on the couch with Y/N in no time. They’d cleaned up the dishes together and settled in, Harry sending Y/N to find the nice big blanket in the ball closer. When he came back, he found a little Y/N burrito in the blankets and swore his heart melted. 

“Dunno where my pretty girlfriend has gone. All I see is this burrito. Looks awfully similar though.” Harry smirked at the joke and she sent him an eye roll but obviously found it cute by the blush on her cheeks. “Now, if my burrito girlfriend will unroll, let her boyfriend inside said blanket burrito and give him said phone to look through the twitter app, it would be appreciated.” He sat on the couch and waited expectantly for her.

Y/N giggled, rolling herself out of the burrito with ease. She crawled into Harry’s lap and sat sideways with her back against the arm of the chair so she could watch him look through her Twitter. This would be fun. 

“Okay so, the best way to do it is this...” Y/N said, typing in her at name and the word ‘harry’ into the search bar revealing all the tweets about Harry that she has made over the years. Oh boy. “My first tweet dates back to 2012, are you ready?” Y/N shook her head, handing him the phone so he could begin to scroll through. 

A lot of the tweets were just his name or saying something along the lines of ‘harry is so hot’ or ‘I love harry’. All of which were true, it just shocked her because of the sheer amount she had tweeted about him. Hundreds and hundreds of tweets and those were just the ones with his name in them. That didn’t count all the photos she had tweeted or videos she reacted to. Harry couldn’t believe how many tweets there were. He was in awe. Y/N hadn’t been lying. Not that Harry has thought she was but this just solidified the fact that she was a mega fan. All else aside? It was fucking hilarious. 

“Wow... my god, Y/N.” He giggled. “You’ve been a fan since... you were a wee sperm? And now you swallow my sperm. Talk about character development.” Harry snickered. Y/N gasped and smacked his shoulder lightly but he wasn’t going to stop. Oh no. This was too good. “The screenshot. You think I’m cute and want to fuck me? Even on that day! I appreciate it.” It was incredibly funny and surreal to see how she has genuinely been tweeting at him for years and years. “Another December girlfriend... that's cold. Considering you were a December girlfriend for a time. Life’s crazy. But now you’re my all seasons girlfriend, so you win.” He kissed the side of her head and continued on. “Hmmm. Love my butt. Want to suck my dick! I can’t say I’m not having the time of my life. This is the best ego boost.” He smirked. “Wait... I spit at you?” He widened his eyes and a large smile on his face. It turned dirty quicker. “So... went from loving that you had water spit on you, to now asking me to spit in your mouth. Such a good grown up situation.”

Y/N blushed deeply, shaking her head to herself as she read through some of the tweets herself. But despite her embarrassment, Harry was enjoying them so she let herself go a bit and just accepted that she was cringey when she was younger. 

“Harry I was a minor!!” Y/N shook her head, laughing at his comments. “But they did age well. All accurate. Still think you’re cute and wanna fuck you at the same time, I was your December girlfriend but now I’m just your girlfriend, also... love your butt and want to suck your dick still so... I’m consistent if anything.” Y/N said as a matter of factly. “Where do you think that kink came from?” Y/N chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow. She cupped his cheek and just looked at him in awe for a moment, “you know how surreal this is? For me? It’s documented how I’ve been dreaming about this for 9 whole years...” Y/N truly got emotional thinking about it. Her thumb swiped over his bottom lip, smiling fondly at him for a moment before pressing a sweet and kiss to his lips and pulled away to nuzzle her face into his neck. “Okay continue.”

“Mm. I know. I wouldn’t have made a move on you back then if you were a minor. I don’t do that. Unlike other band members.” Harry shrugged. What? It sat with him wrong that Liam was dating a girl when she was underage and lied about it to everyone possible.

“Oop.” Y/N said with a giggle, knowing exactly who he was talking about. It was weird for Y/N to suddenly know all the ins and outs of the band and things in Harry’s life, but it made a lot more sense and explained why Harry is the way he is and why he acts a certain way. 

 “I’m glad though. That you get to live this out with me. Cause if you weren’t a fan we wouldn’t have met... but we are so suited for each other.” They truly were the most suited for one another that he had ever seen. The photos of them faking were very real looking because they both harbored those feelings. “You’re something else. My god, Kiska.” He chuckled as he placed a hand on her thigh as he continued to read. “There's a whole lot about my dick here. Been dirty for forever. And then you get soft... aw. Sayin’ you want to wear my sweater. The purple one? You can. It’s put away in my little chest but I can dig it out for you.”

Y/N picked up her head from his neck, “really?” She asked with eyes full of wonder. “I think you should at least wear that color more... we all went crazy. You just looked so cute and soft and it made your eyes look nice.” Y/N’s tone was so gooey. It was clear to tell that she had been very invested. “You gave me all those shirts to wear and like... all of them are so iconic among fans. If only you knew.” Y/N commented, wondering what else he had hidden in that chest of his. Maybe she could find some old gems. Y/N knew twitter was a safe option for him to scroll freely on. Something that she hoped stayed a secret was her tumblr, but she had a feeling fans would dig it up somehow.

“Well tell meee.” Harry whined, handing her phone back. “Memorized your user and stuff so I will look at more later. But I want my lesson in what you fans like.” He leaned back against the couch and wrapped his arm around her, letting her settle into his body. “Want to know what drives all of you crazy and what you hate and love. It’s so interesting to me.” He was so intrigued by it all. Y/N knee more than anyone else he knew though. “What is the lingo and stuff? I feel like a middle aged father when it comes to learning the hip things. Also... don’t think I didn’t catch those other tweets. Calling me daddy since then, huh? That’s interesting. Considering how often you use it to get what you want now.”

“So you want to know the tea?” Y/N started off, getting properly cozy with him on the couch. “Do you know what tea means?” She asked, wondering how basic his knowledge was. Y/N felt like tea was a common word used so he should know it, but he probably still struggled to grasp the concept. “Tea is gossip. Do you want to know the gossip?” Y/N felt like she could teach him easily, but it would take a while. Maybe some observing on twitter will help. “Contextual clues help as well, but let’s get into it.” She hummed and thought about his question. “So, we love seeing pictures of you anytime anywhere doing anything. Your fans are essentially all like girlfriends, they all want to love and protect you.” Y/N smiled as she explained. “We love when you just act like yourself, when you’re goofy and just do your quirky Harry things. Like that nose scrunch you do and rub your nose with your knuckle. And you picking your lip.” Y/N pointed out a few harrisims. “The way you say the word ‘obviously’ like ‘ovishly’” she giggled at that one because it was just really cute. “Don’t really hate anything besides the fact that you didn’t really have good friends around you till recently. People would stalk the people you hung out with and report back to us, essentially giving us all the insights... a fan background check if you will. That’s why all your previous relationships weren’t as successful. They didn’t have a good track record.” Y/N explained to him, “mines flawless, obviously.” She winked.

“It’s so odd to think that those things are so normal but you all like them much. Not in a bad way at all but... it’s just incredibly interesting to know that things I don’t even think twice about are your favorite things.” Harry was shocked. The nose thing and how he said certain words weren’t conscious decisions. “Also.. tea? I’ve heard someone say the phrase before but I wasn’t paying all that much attention if m’honest.” He admitted to Y/N. She would get that he wasn’t at all that current and stayed off of socials usually. “Obviously... I’m not the most up to date. But I like learning. I feel good that you are at least in the know about this stuff. Can always ask you about them. I have a question though. Do people mean it when they ask me to run them over? It seems a bit excessive and I would never, but I see a lot of people telling me they want me to and I don’t get it.”

“I know baby, we just love the things that are unique to you. Being a fan is not different than having a crush I think.” Y/N explained, “it’s a strange relationship between artists and fans... because the way artists’ speak to fans like, telling them they love, appreciate, support, and accept them? that can do a lot for someone who is impressionable.” She would know first hand. 

“it puts fans in a headspace where they feel safe with that person because they feel seen and heard. It’s quite special. I think it’s really lovely that you’re curious to know what it’s like... it shows so much about your character and I know for a fact your fans know just how great you are. We fight for you... but everyone loves you.” Y/N felt like she was rambling but he needed to know all of this. Y/N snorted a bit when he mentioned the run me over trend, shaking her head. “No, baby, they don’t mean it.” She said, combing through his hair with her fingers. “Best way to explain it is, when you're so attracted to someone to love someone so much that it’s overwhelming, you would rather feel intense pain? A lot of it is for comedic effect.” It was harder to explain than she thought. “It’s a more extreme version of ‘choke me daddy’.”

Harry absorbed all the information. It was a lot to take in but truthfully, he was in awe. They loved him so much, didn’t they? He always knew that, of course he did. But it was something else completely when it came down to it. He was some people’s happiness and truly, Harry couldn’t understand it fully. 

“Kind of like with you. Like you so much that wanna bash my head in sometimes. Always thinking about you.” He pulled a quick move and rubbed her to straddle his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her to him, fingers sneaking up the shirt to rub the bare skin of her back. Harry has found that she melted with just a little bit of back rubbing. “I do like when you tell me to choke you, though. S’fun. We have immaculate sex.” He hummed. Sex hadn’t ever been this good. Ever. Y/N was adventurous and kinky. “Speeeeeaking of. Is there anything you’d like to try?” He’s meant to have this conversation earlier. “We really kind of just... hopped into it. I think we can just tell what we like. But I wanted to ask if there’s things you like and don’t like. Be more open about it.”

Y/N giggled at how he did his best to make a similar comment, he was adorable. She squeaked a bit as he made a quick move to have her straddling him, it was her favorite position really both for sex and for cuddling. It felt properly close, like she could hold him completely just like he could hold her. 

“Course you do.” Y/N snickered, pecking his nose softly. “We do have immaculate sex, truly have never had better.” She agreed, watching his smile widen as it always did when she gave him compliments like that. Harry really did just tend to every need of hers and she was always eager to do the same. “Um... well, I’d be truly willing to try anything as long as you’d be up for it.” Y/N said truthfully, thinking a bit about what they could try that they haven’t tried just yet. “You’re an actor now, maybe you’d like to experiment in some role play at some point.” She teased, “haven’t tied me up yet either... haven’t got any toys either.” Y/N brought up, wondering what was on his mind when it came to these things.

“Hm... would like to do all of those, I believe. I think that it would be good. Toys would be fun. Know those little wand vibrators? Would be fun to tie you up and use one on you.” Oh, Harry could be evil in that sense. Over sensitivity was fun because Y/N got so whimpers and whiny, her legs would shake and he was obsessed with making her little noises she would make. “We’ll have to order some toys. Trying to decide if I should just order some fun things or have you help me, though.” He said in faux thought. Of course he would include Y/N in it. Through their many many sexual rounds, he found that she was rather submissive. Liked when he took control and ordered her to do things. Was an absolute pro at sucking his cock. Truly... he loved it. But what he had found out was that he was a slut for licking her out. 

A lot of the time he would wake her up with his mouth between her thighs. It couldn’t be helped. The girl tasted so sweet, her cunt was beautiful, and she would wake up and make the cutest noises. A few times she tried to physically push her away from sensitivity  and he just held on and continued for another two orgasms. She fell asleep back after that. It was weird but he felt like he was on a high every time he did it. Some men didn’t like it but Harry has a growing obsession. 

“Speaking of again.. can I eat you out tonight?” Harry loved making her blush when he asked them so bluntly.

Y/N’s eyes darkened, excited to hear that he was willing to try everything she had mentioned. “Could do both... order some things with me and without me. I like surprises.” Y/N smiled mischievously, relaxing into the feeling of his hands against her back. The one thing that shook Y/N to her core was just how much he liked eating her out. He would use any excuse to go down on her and it was truly a blessing. Never had she had a man worship her pussy the way Harry did, she felt like she was some godly creature with the way he took pleasure in pleasuring her. Her face went red, tingles sent directly to her core at the mere thought. “You don’t have to ask, you know that..” Y/N said shyly, fully wanting him to know that she would be okay with him eating her out whenever he wanted. Literally whenever. She’d never be opposed. They both had a high sex drive and it sometimes got the best of them, neither of them would ever say no. One of them was in the mood and then the other always got the other in the mood fairly quickly. “I want to know what else you’re into... like wildest things.”

“Hm. Sounds like a conversation over a blunt, hm?” Harry and Y/N had only smoked together 3 times but it really was nice. Sex was a bit wilder too. They let down their inhibitions and generally had a lot dirtier things come out of their mouths during so he figured it would be a good conversation to have over smoking. Y/N perked up, and Harry laughed. His girl did quite like it. “I’ll tell you some wild things, dirty ones. But I need to be high to not be a little shy about it.” It was understandable though. The both of them were very much open but sex was their golden area. It only took a few minutes before Y/N was back on his lap, sitting with her thighs over him now. Harry took a hit, letting it settle for a moment before breathing it out. He swore, there was some kind of kink he had for Y/N when she smoked because it always looked incredibly sexy. 

“Alright, princess.” He settled in. “You want to know kinks? Or fantasies? We both know I’m a very dirty man.”

Perks of dating Harry meant good quality weed and pre rolled joints and blunts. Y/N was pretty good at rolling herself. It was Y/N’s biggest vice next to sex. She watched as he lit the blunt, taking a few hits of it before handing it to her. Y/N breathed in the smoke, holding it in her lungs for a moment before letting it out. It truly was one of the most relaxing feelings, especially someone like her who seemed to be tense all the time without even realizing it. 

“Mhm, anything you’re willing to tell me.” She said and took another hit, feeling herself relax even more. Her filters were going away, her mind more open to creativity as well. “You are a dirty man, my dirty man though. Always know what I want somehow.”

“Hm. It’s weird that we haven’t had this conversation before now but, we are just starting off, huh?” Harry thought out loud. “It feels a lot longer. I dunno, I just feel like I know you.” He still had so much more to figure out about her though. “Hm. Okay... I have a kink for public stuff.” A bold beginning. “Like... when I played with you at the club? That was one of the hottest things.. I like the danger. People may see. It’s so hot. Like, head or fucking in the car. Dressing room or bathroom sex. Fingering under a table. That shit really gets to me.” He cleared his throat, taking the blunt from her again. “I really like messy. Know you know that but. When it’s really hot and dirty, lots of cum and all of that. I dunno why it gets me off. Spit. That’s beyond sexy to me.” He was trying to think of more but there was a lot. “I like spanking you. Being in control. That’s the hottest thing to me, I think. You trusting me with being in charge and being able to tell how much you can handle. That’s so good. When you get a bit sassy and I spank you? I’d like you to be a lot more bratty sometimes so I can really spank you. Make you melt.”

Y/N listened to him intently, admiring him with hooded eyes. He really was kinky, but it wasn’t anything Y/N felt was wild. It was perfect for someone like her who loved being dirty and really letting go during sex.

 “It’s good we are talking about this because sometimes I have these moments where you’re fucking me so good that I like... get into this headspace where I would legit do anything you asked. Think it’s called subspace? I did research on it the other day.” It was one of the hottest things she felt like she could do. It made him hot and that fueled her even more. “I like all of those things. Very much so.” Y/N said with a nod, taking the blunt from him once again. Even just talking about sex got her in the mood. “Did you know I can squirt?” She asked with a smirk, taking another hit from the blunt while she watched his reaction. “It kind just happened one time when I was getting off with a vibrator, I tease the fuck out of myself all day... it was like this one really sensitive part of my clit and it hurt a bit but in a good way, and it felt like I was going to wee but it just fished out and I was so in shock I couldn’t register that I had actually done it.” She spoke in her slow and raspy voice. “Could have phone sex or FaceTime sex as well... when you’re away though, not yet. While you’re here I want to have fucking me till I cry.” Y/N really was a whore for Harry, she couldn’t believe the extent that she would go for him but she liked that she felt comfortable like that. “Be careful what you wish for...” she said when he said he wanted her to be more bratty.

“You can? Well... s’my mission now to get you squirting.” Oh, 100%. Y/N would be getting the bed all messy and that was that. It was a hot thing he hadn’t known she was able to do but was about to make sure it happened very soon. He was also very happy about being able to get her to subspace. It was beyond hot in his opinion because she opened herself up to him and gave him exactly what they’d both needed. Harry control, and her loss of it. “I will definitely be getting you into that space more often. I love making you over sensitive too. When your legs shake and you tell me to stop but you don’t mean it. Or when you can’t even get words out and just sounds. That’s amazing.” He sighed thinking about said things. It was lovely. “However, I am aware of what I’m wishing for. I’ll give you hints when I want it though. You’re usually such a good girl for me. I will definitely be ducking you until you cry tonight. The only tears I want are tears of pleasure and happiness.” He stated. “How do you feel about the other type of sex.” Harry wiggled his brows playfully. God, he was a slut for some ass but he knew it was a hard limit for some. “And about me watching you get off. Cause that’s something hot I’d like to see.”

“You’re quite good at it... I tried to hold myself back from falling completely into it because we hadn’t had a proper conversation about it. But now that you’re aware, I can go all in.” Y/N hummed, “didn’t want you to be caught off guard.” Y/N explained farther knowing that Harry was more than capable of coaching her through her subspace. She whimpered at his words, beyond ready for him to fuck her till she was crying. “Anal? I’ve never actually done anal.” Y/N said honestly, “but if I’m going to do anal with anyone it’d be you... also wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to return the favor.” She had to offer because he probably wouldn’t ask on his own. Harry was quite a dominant person naturally, but even the most dominant people needed a break sometimes. “We’ll get a vibrator and I’ll get off for you.” Y/N started, “you like when I’m all whiney and begging to cum and I usually can cum multiple times with a vibrator and fuck—” she really did miss it. “My fingers are great, but yours are far better. You’re just far better in general. A vibrator is a whole other animal, can just sit back and watch it do what you do to me.”

“Yeah? That sounds so fucking good though, baby.” Harry was beset drooling at the thought. His Y/N cumming over and over... that was a fantasy all in itself. She looked so pretty when she was cumming but to sit back and watch her. “Got to get you a nice vibrator then. Thinkin’ a nice pink? Know that you’d put it to use. Get money's worth.” God, he was obsessed with her. There was just that intense attraction there that had him wrecked every time. She got him good every single time she begged or whimpered or asked for her ‘daddy’... yeah. It was bad. “We can try it. M’not sure if I’d like it or not but for both parties we can.” He shrugged. Open to anything. That’s how he liked it. “But I’m obsessed with the thought of my cum inside both of your holes. That’s so hot to me. Erotic. Think it’ll take some getting used to, but we’re both dirty fucks.” He noticed that she was squeezing her thighs together. “Hm. Do you want to touch yourself while we talk, angel? Can just take off those shorts and do it in your panties.”

Y/N felt her pussy throbbing a bit, desperately needing relief but she was enjoying the conversation. She liked the tension, liked being teased though she would say she hated it till the cows came home. Harry knew just how to press her buttons though. 

“Can I?” She asked softly, looking at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t just saying that to see what she’d say. Y/N did have a massive kink for people watching her, only when she was people she trusted like Harry. Once she got confirmation from him she went to slide the shorts off, relieving some nice lacy red panties she had on underneath. “You’ll see the rest of this later.” Y/N smiled at him, shifting so her legs were a bit more spread and so she could use her right hand to rub over herself with slow and teasing movements. “We can try anything really... any ideas you have, let me know. Really. There are very few limits.” Y/N told him, letting out a small sigh of relief at the feeling of her fingers gliding over her pussy.

“I can tell that. You’ve got me very intrigued with what else your own fantasies are.” There was something erotic about her laying on his lap and her hand between her thighs. She was needy for touch and Harry knew that. She always got impatient when it came to that. “You’re so open, just like me. A whole world of possibilities. That’s what makes us so dangerous.” His hand settled on her belly, rubbing circles into it. He adored giving her any type of attention, but it was different when it came to her rubbing off on his lap. “Trust me. There’s a whole lot I want us to do. Want to fuck you on a plane. Make you cum with people in the room. Have you squirt all over the floor. Finger fuck you in that same club. Want to finish what I started. Tell me though.” He really wanted to know. “What are your deepest and darkest fantasies? The dirtier the better.”

A moan left her lips as he told her all the things he’s got planned for them, feeling herself get even more slick than she was. “Always knew you were a kinky bastard, but I didn’t think you’d be like this. I love it.” Y/N really had thought about what Harry would be into. She’d just about imagined everything under the sun, but her mind sort of drew a blank when it came to telling him. “My deepest darkest fantasies?” Y/N hummed, slowly circling over her clit. “You know I used to get off to the thought of you? Like that was the one thing that was guaranteed to make me cum.”  She admitted, knowing he would like hearing it. It would blow up his ego even more. 

“I thought about all kinds of things... always thought you’d be the type to fuck me when I’m on my period. Also thought about you inviting your friends over to watch us... quite like the idea of you watching me fuck a girl— but only if you’d want to watch. I’d be too jealous to let her touch you. I thought about a lot of the things you mentioned actually. Kinda like the idea of us filming ourselves and watching it back.”

Harry’s ego was beyond blown. She got off to him before he had even met her? That was the ultimate ego boost. He was thriving right now, knowing that he was the source of her orgasms. She had been liking him since she was younger and now got the real thing. 

“Hm. Yes to both of those. Little bit of blood doesn’t scare me. Certainly won’t stop me taking your pussy. That’s when you’re especially horny got it.” He wasn’t squeamish when it came to that. “Fuck. You’d do that, baby? I would love to see that. All of those. People watching us.. you’d make such a pretty show. Especially if we could get you squirting... you’re such a gorgeous picture when you’re fucked out. Needy little cockslut when it comes down to it.” His cock was throbbing. Holy shit, he loved those ideas. “As for you fucking a girl... i’d be very interested. I don’t need to touch her. God... the idea of pounding into you while you’ve got your tongue in pussy... jesus.” He took a second to groan, leaning his head back. Yeah. That was some good shit. “We can film whenever you want. Got our phones, can attach it to the tv to see it. You need to see how desperate you get and how hot it is.”

Listening to him speak was already doing a lot for her, she loved how his voice made her react and it was even better when he was saying such dirty things and she had her hand on her pussy. “Yeah?” She sighed out, adding a little bit more pressure to her clit. “I can tell you like those ideas.” She could feel his cock hardening beneath her. Y/N was taking subtle and slow deep breaths, teasing the shit out of herself and trying to stay as focused as she could. The combination of being high and being horny really fucked her up. “Is it really that bad?” She blushed, nuzzling her face in his neck though she was smiling. “You just get me so riled up, just want to cum for you. It’s always the worst too because you tease me so well and it tests my patients because I barely have any as it is..” Y/N moaned, “I’m such a whore! I always need to fucking cum and you make it so hard!” She pouted.

“You cum a lot. I love it so much. It is really that bad but it’s absolutely a good thing. I want you to be dirty for me. You want my cock and tm fingers and my mouth a lot but it’s relaxing for me too, sweetheart.” Harry cooed. God, he had become a lucky bastard. Y/N was dirty and sweet and made him insane. The best type of person. “Love that you know you’re a whore for it too. So refreshing. Don’t even try and deny it to me, just know that you are.” Y/N was a whore though. In a good way. She wanted it often and thoroughly and wasn’t ashamed to ask for cock when she was really needing it. They’d been properly dating for a month but he was slowly realizing that this girl was the one he wanted forever. That alone had him even more focused on learning her pleasure. This wasn’t a fling.

“It’s pretty hard to deny considering how often I ask you to fuck me. I just own it. Know it turns you on.” Y/N really did know what buttons of his to press, glad that he too was open with her about what he wanted and when he wanted it. Harry was such a private person to the world, but to her he bored it all. It made her feel special, which only added to how horny she was. “I like when you make orders, my pussy throbs every time. I really like when you go all daddy on me and give me permission to do certain things you know I’m holding back on doing. I like when you get that roughness in your voice and your accent goes really northern.” Y/N’s eyes rolled back a bit at the thought combined with the feeling of her fingers against herself. She had been going at it for more than half of their conversation, she pulled her fingers out and brought them to her mouth. “This what you rave about, huh?” She smirked, pointing out his obsession. Y/N really liked the sensation of sucking on fingers but also getting her fingers sucked on. It was a win win really.

Harry loved when she got dirty like this. Eventually they wouldn’t even have the weed to have them like this, he had a feeling. But it felt so natural between them. He wanted to have this all the damn times. The intimacy between them. 

“Fuck, yeah. That’s what I love. You taste so good. Get high off of it. Makes me crazy, I just want to taste it all the fucking time.” His eyes were dark with lust as she sucked on her fingers, finally feeling what he did. “Like when I boss you around, huh? When I tell you to get on the bed or bend over? Get your pussy all wet when I tell you you’re being a good girl and just m’gonna fuck your cunt until you’re a sobbing mess.” That was the goal, ultimately. To have Y/N writhing on the bed, eyes crossed with pleasures he was giving her.

Y/N giggled, a giddy bubbling up at his compliment about her pussy. She had been eating lots of fruit, her favorite were all the different melons, strawberries, and kiwi. Ironic, she knows, but it was really good. “It is really good... I get it now.” She hummed after pulling her fingers out from her mouth. “Yes, daddy. I love it.” Y/N purred, shifting in her seat once again. “What do I do that drives you crazy, hmm?” She asked, “I want to have fun making you all frustrated too, daddy.” Y/N confessed though she knew that would only get him harder. He had wanted her to be more bratty and bratty she would be. She just needed a better tool kit.

“All of it. I love when you wear my shirts. When you give me those little pouty eyes. It’s so hot. Acting innocent while you’re touching my cock, like you don’t know what you’re doing. But on the other side... when you’re dirty and don’t care. Just let go and let us both be filthy.” He hummed. “I love when you whine at me. When I’m fucking you hard and all you can get out are those little ‘uh’s and they go high pitched. I love making you lose control.” He did. Y/N getting unhitched was a turn on for him. “I love when you come and crawl in my lap and talk to me but you’ve got that look. When you know you want to fuck but don’t want to say it out loud so you grind a little bit and pout until I turn you over.” He had a whole list, truly. “Hm.. when you wear those tops that showcase your tits— like the dress that night. When you show off your curves because I’m weak when it comes to you. Those red heels you have.”

Harry really did seem to have a mental list, it was like he was reading right off of it. She felt a cheeky smile creeping up on her face, knowing exactly what he was talking about when he mentioned all those little things she did. Y/N was just glad they worked effectively because that was always her intention. 

“Good to know my methods are working.” She teased, keeping her hands on his chest how they were this whole time. They were building up tension, so much so that they hadn’t even kissed this whole time. It must have been an hour that they were sitting here like this. “Red heels huh? That one caught me.” Y/N said, passing the blunt for him to take a few hits. “I can't believe you remembered them..” She continued thinking about how she could bring them back. “Reckon I could pull them off in a naughty school girl outfit.. what would you do if I turned up here looking like that?”

“Fuck me... seeing you in that? Probably would cum in my pants.” Harry groaned. Yes, he wasn’t even kidding. Y/N would truly get him if she did that to him. That was asking for disaster on his part. Or a beautiful Thing, in Y/N’s case. “What would you do, angel? Come in and ask for some extra credit, hm?” He could totally be down for some role play. His acting stuff had given him a large amount of courage when it came to that. “Come in to suck my cock? Or perhaps offer up that pussy of yours for me...” He murmured. Yes. Yes, he would love that. 

He took a few more hits, before taking a hand and running it up and down the shirt. From where her cunt started to between her tits, he was tracing it up and down as a tease. “What else would you want to play as?”

Y/N smiled triumphantly, “yes sir, I really need an A.” Y/N spoke, already putting on a different voice for the sake of the role. Harry would look damn good in a tie, he could even use it on her. She swore her head was spinning at the mere thought. She’d live out all her favorite fanfics like this. “Could do doctor and patient.. could do prince and maid..” Her mind wondered for a moment. “Officer Styles sounds hot.” Y/N smirked, taking the blunt from him once again. “Also sort of like the idea of you being merciless one night. Obviously I consent to it now and what not, we can go over safe words and stuff.. but in theory.” Y/N began, “could just properly dominate me, like completely. If you’re ever in that mood. If it was random for me? That’d be so hot.” All these fantasies floated through Y/N’s mind on the regular, she really wanted to try everything they’d been talking about. They couldn’t obviously try it all in one night, no they were brainstorming for months ahead of time. That within itself was already getting her hyped. Her birthday was coming up as well. She was curious to see what he would have in store.

“All of those... we could do them all. Trust me, I know we will have the best time doing it too.” Harry knew that. Y/N would be the best possible role play partner when it came down to it. He had a feeling she could act incredibly well. “I’ve never had that sort of trust with someone before. You know? S’good to me that we do. I would love to try that especially. A day where I’m relaxed though. Wouldn’t want to go off the rails and really hurt you.” He had such a temper on him. Most people didn’t see it but he did. “I’m genuinely ready for anything. I want to try everything with you. You’ve made me so happy, my angel. Swear that my cock jerks every time I think about you. Wanna know though... When did you start getting off to the thought of me? What did you think about?”

Y/N did trust Harry, with anything. It was really important to her that they both had a mutual understanding. Their communication skills were great and obviously the two of them had only really been together for a month, but she had a feeling that even in their bumps in the road they’d get past it.  

“You’re too kind.” She smiled fondly at him, nearly slipping up there and telling him she loved him. Y/N found herself in that state constantly, wanting to say ‘I love you’ but always being afraid that it was far too early for that. “When I started? Really young.” Y/N blushed, “I remember I once read this like, fan fiction blurb thing about you and I was like... what is this feeling.” She said biting her lip. “Full on sexual awakening because of you... now your ego is gonna grow five sizes.” It was true though she couldn’t lie, he probably didn’t realize how many girls felt the same way. “I really just thought about being close to you.. having your hands on me. Pictured you eating me out, me riding your cock, and you fucking me doggy style. Definitely the most popular thoughts.”

Holy shit. Harry had literally been her sexual awakening? She had joked about it before but, to know it was real was oddly arousing and pleasing to the ego. He wanted to know more but was In shock. 

“Fuck. You really did?” He whispered, sliding his own hand down to her cunt and pressing over the fabric. “Sit in bed and rub your precious little clit while thinkin’ about me, baby?” Y/N had him going. He loved that. Harry was the one she had always wanted sexually and that was relieving.  He couldn’t believe it. “Used a vibrator... your fingers. Anything else, my sweet girl? I want all the details. You don’t know how hot it is to me. Not a clue.” He felt like he could burst. Pressing his hand over her pussy, he could feel the lace of the panties dampen. Her hips moved up to his hand and he snickered, pressing down right over her entrance.

Y/N jumped at the touch, having waited for him to touch her since he had gotten home really. “Y—yeah, I did.” She spoke softly, feeling her body melt into his properly. Y/N was really fucking high and really fucking horny. Her mind was cloudy and she was ready to tell him anything he wanted to hear. “a pillow.” She told him, trying to remember if there was anything else but it was really only ever those three things. Y/N wasn’t really one to try the shower head method, she felt like it didn’t really work for her. Y/N managed to learn a lot about her body fairly quickly. “Sometimes I’d just... play one of your interviews and just zone out and listen to you talk while I was playing with myself.” She told him, feeling her breath become choppy once again. Y/N whined as he pressed down against her, feeling super needy now that he had given her a little taste.

“My sweet, dirty girl. Fuck me... can’t believe how filthy you truly are. Sat there and humped over your pillow while listening to my voice? Look at you.” Harry groaned. Her body moved up to try and get more of his fingers. It was a fun time. Finger fucking Y/N was amazing. She provided him with every bit of sexual need he wanted, being whiny and pressing up because she just wanted more. And then she would whimper for her daddy and hold his wrist, hump his hand. Make him stay still for a moment while she did so. And then Harry would take the control back. Y/N needed him to take over most of the time. 

Yep. Harry was never letting her go.

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[part 7]

A/N: AHHHHH the next part is the last part so we’re a bit emotional... We enjoyed writing these too so much so please, feel free to send in ideas for blurbs! - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry writing #jarofstyles

[plaidandwhiskey]

cobra kai hawk x trans guy!reader...? ♥️

Acceptance

Hawk x Trans Male!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Content Warning: slight mention of bullying

( This was my first time writing for a trans character, I hope you like it! )

Two years of bullying, of name calling, lunch trays being knocked out of your hands, rumors being spread about you. It had started in P.E. class freshman year. A year before high school, you had come out to your parents and your close friends. They had been supportive, respecting your choice to go by y/n instead of your name given at birth. For your birthday, your parents had even bought you a few binders to wear. High school was supposed to be a fresh start, it was a new school, no one knew you or that you were trans. The staff had been informed and teachers called you by y/n. But when you had been changing in the boys locker room, Kyler and his friends took notice of the binder. 

The harassment began and soon high school became miserable. You suffered through the long hours, avoiding Kyler and his roving gang of bullies. Junior year, things started to look a bit better. You made a new friend, Miguel who happened to be one of Kyler’s endless targets as well. He was a nice friend to have. 

You knew your friend was a part of the new karate dojo in town and he often told you that he thought you would enjoy it. After some convincing and seeing your friend beat up Kyler and his friends in the cafeteria, you decided to give it a shot. You were skeptical, especially with Sensei Lawrence screaming constantly at all of you and the others. Though you could take Sensei Lawrence’s yelling, he wasn’t as mean as the kids could be at school. You gained new friends while at Cobra Kai, becoming friends with Eli and Aisha. You were one of Eli’s biggest supporters when he changed his look and went by “Hawk”, you knew the feeling, how it felt to change your identity into something more authentic. Maybe it was because you also had a slight crush on him too.

Demetri was a little less enthusiastic about it, his comments getting on your nerves at one point. It was after practice one afternoon. The four of you had been hanging out at Aisha’s house, Demetri trying to convince the three of you to watch Doctor Who with him. 

“We don’t want to watch that nerdy shit.” Hawk said, his tone showing his disgust. 

“We used to watch it together Eli.” 

You could tell that the mention of his actual name had bugged Hawk and you could understand why. Hawk got up and left the living room, going into the kitchen, mumbling he was going to go get another soda. 

“You know he doesn’t like to be called Eli, he likes to go by Hawk” you spoke, looking over at Demetri who rolled his eyes. 

“But his name is Eli”

“It doesn’t matter if his name is Eli, he likes to go by Hawk and you should respect that” you argued back. Demetri opened his mouth but the glare you sent him quickly silenced any thought that he had planned to say. 

Hawk walked back, a new soda in hand and in a slightly cheerier mood. You didn’t know he had overheard what you said to Demetri. 

The night went by happily after that, Miguel having suggested they watch Deadpool and Aisha and Demetri making popcorn for the five of you. It was past nine when your parents finally picked you up, Miguel and Demetri having left a few minutes before. Hawk walked out with you, his mom having texted she was a block away. 

“Thanks for earlier, for what you said to Demetri.” he said, his voice soft. He wasn’t used to people defending him like that and Demetri was still his friend. He hadn’t wanted to confront him about it. 

“It was nothing, I mean it doesn’t cost him anything to call you by the name you like.” 

That made Hawk smile as your mom called out the car window, waving to you both. You chuckled, rolling your eyes. You were used to the slightly embarrassing moments like this. Before you walked to the car, you two did your handshake, you had made it up at practice one day. 

“See you at school y/n” 

The next day at school started out like almost every other day. You met up with your friends before classes started, you and Hawk walking to your lockers together. You both had your first period together. Your locker was a little ways down the hall from his so you would stop at your locker while he went off to his before you two would walk to class. You spun the lock, hearing the familiar click as you tugged on the lock, opening up the metal door of the locker. You grabbed your books, jumping as someone’s fist slammed on the locker next to you. You looked over and saw Kyler and his friends surround you. 

“Look guys, it’s the school freak.” Kyler taunted. 

Hawk heard the loud sound and saw Kyler and his friends surrounding you, hearing the taunts and awful things they said. His face twisted in anger. Kyler had done the same to him, tormenting him everyday. He shut his locker, before marching over there. He shoved Kyler away from you, stepping in between you two. 

“Leave y/n alone.” 

You were thankful for Hawk’s intervening, four to one wasn’t a fight you wanted to start. Kyler looked at his friends, then to Hawk who was glaring at him. He backed off, glaring at you and Hawk. 

“See ya freak” They called as they walked away down the hall.

Hawk looked ready to run after them, but he stayed by your side. 

“Those guys are dicks, they should get their asses beat again” 

That made you laugh, though you knew he was serious. You two made your way to class, walking through the crowded halls of the high school. 

“You know, I get why Kyler and his friends used to call me a freak, cause of my lip, but it's not like you have anything weird for them to point out.” 

You smiled, the comment meaning the world to you. You paused before giving Hawk your answer, having not told him yet that you were trans. 

“Freshman year they saw my binder while changing for gym class in the locker room. Ever since they have been picking on me.” 

You gestured to your chest area when you told him. Hawk gave a look of confusion, followed then by a look of realization and understanding. 

“That just proves my point even more that they are dicks.” 

Hawk was happy though, happy that you trusted him enough to tell him. He didn’t ever bring it up, after all to him you were still and always were y/n.

#reader insert #hawk x reader #cobra kai #cobra kai reader insert

[writer-and-artist27]

Unfulfilled Things

Note: Dedicated to the real life Rex, under @hasquetzdoneanythingwrong and @kingrexofchaldea, because he chose to stick around a quiet person like me, even when work decided to slap me upside the head with drama that takes my energy away. Even when I feel older than I should, you remind me there’s still things in life that are worth enjoying. Thankie, friend.

The song for this short story is wimp by BACK-ON and Lil’ Fang, the second opening for Gundam Build Fighters. I found the enthusiasm and joy of the song helped with the mood I wanted to convey, more so since the original show was my first official exposure into Gundam I finished with my real life Robin.

As for an alternate, more somber song, I’ll merely point you to the track titled Unfulfilled from Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Let’s just say it helped me get into Robin’s mindset for this. For something cheerier to follow this? This OST from Komi Can’t Communicate.

For those wondering where this takes place in the FGO timeline? It’s in the lull between LB3 and Ooku. Otherwise, please enjoy. :>

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“Pajarita! Pajarita, Vy~!”

Vy slowly blinked at the sound of the nickname, blearily raising her head from the tablet sitting on her lap as sandaled feet made their entrance into her personal space with a happy jump.

“La pajarita, there you are!” Quetzalcoatl was as bright as always when getting up into Vy’s face with her usual toothy grin, and Vy blinked again. “Are you — oh, pajarita, you’re working again!”

“Why… wouldn’t I be?” Vy eventually croaked out as an answer, doing nothing but blink as Quetzalcoatl pouted at her. “Isn’t that… how I’ve always been?”

“That doesn’t make it a good thing, pajarita!” Quetz answered with a disapproving huff, glaring down at the device like it was a new target for lucha practice. “You need breaks! Where is that green Archer of yours, he needs to be here to scold you—”

“Mi corazon, it’s good to see you, but uh… I don’t think glaring at Vy’s tablet is going to help anything,” Rex quietly interrupted with a face, eyebrow twitching a bit past his bangs as he crossed his arms over his Winter Chaldean uniform. He must’ve walked up to the scene as soon as he noticed his future wife. “As much as I understand the feeling.”

Vy couldn’t help but sigh, pressing the sleep button on the tablet to put to the side. “I still say work is important. And I was just studying team formations for the next Lostbelt.”

“Work doesn’t mean anything if it ends up exhausting you, pajarita!” The last thing Vy expected was for Quetzalcoatl to take her face in her hands, cupping both her cheeks with her warm palms to squeeze as she looked closer. “I see the dark eyebags on your face, pajarita, you are not fooling this Onee-san that easily!”

“Vy…” Rex said in a low voice past Quetzalcoatl’s shoulder. “How much sleep have you been getting?”

“That’s from the occasional nightmares, not the work, Quetz-san…” Vy tried not to drawl as Quetzalcoatl rubbed the pad of her thumbs over the edges of her eyes to take out the residual dust, blinking slowly as to not interrupt the Rider’s fretting. “And Rex, I’ve been getting my daily naps and haven’t taken an all-nighter yet.”

“That still doesn’t make me feel all that better,” Rex deadpanned with a face. “Did you get to your breaks today, Vy?”

Vy took a deep breath to think about it before gently shaking her head, resting her hands in the lap of her skirt. “…If I said ‘yes’, I’d be lying, aye. And I don’t want to do that to either of you.”

Quetz proceeded to let out a worried noise from the back of her throat, the sound coming out like a cross between a squeal and a pterodactyl roar before she cupped Vy’s cheeks again, shaking her head. “We’re going to provide you a break then, pajarita! We need a date!”

“Eh? What date?”

“Wait, mi corazon,” Rex’s frown dropped for a bewildered look as he glanced at his fiancé with a light pink flush to his cheeks, probably from both the close proximity and surprise, “What date do you have in mind?”

“Get the green Archer here and you’ll see, mi amor!”

-------------------------------

“…I sometimes wonder how you fell in love with her,” Robin Hood drawled, absently chewing on a stalk of mint as he rested his chin in the palm of his right hand, sitting against a bench in Da Vinci’s workshop. Playing out in front of him was something like a scene from the movies, where Quetzalcoatl was acting like a mother bringing her younger daughter in Vy to the store to buy new clothes. The fact that both Da Vincis were watching from the sidelines of their shared workshop in interest added credence to that analogy, more so with Medea pulling different outfits out of thin air all at once with her magic. “But then I see things like this and understand a bit better.”

“Note that the solar goddess is powerful and can’t be underestimated, Robin,” Rex said sagely from his seat next to the Archer, looking on with a wry smile. “And mi corazon was insistent on this.”

As expected, Quetzalcoatl was humming while rocking back and forth on her sandals in anticipation. “Pajarita, have you ever bought clothes on your own before?”

“N-No, normally Mom would’ve bought them for me…” Vy still struggled with holding the blouse Medea offered her, hiding her blushing cheeks with the collar of the shirt. “I-I always went with simple cheap stuff until now…”

Mom? Rex and Robin unintentionally thought in unison. Cheap?!

“Hm. It’s about time we correct that now, dear,” Medea said while clicking her tongue, waving her hand to create a long, ruffle-filled skirt. “We have some time to rest before the next Lostbelt is located, so we might as well give a girl like you some better clothes to wear, shouldn’t we?”

“M-Medea-san, I’m fineeeeeee…”

“No ‘Medea-san’ me in that cute voice, Vy,” Medea continued with a huff, pushing at Vy’s shoulders while Quetz grinned like it was her birthday. “Just get to the dressing room and try these on, okay?”

“Muuuuuu…”

“Now I don’t know whether or not I should go in and save her,” Robin muttered around his stick of mint. “She looks like she’s never had this done for her before.”

“Vy?” Rex called out with a raised hand, catching her just before she could hide herself behind a curtain to change. “How often did you go out on your own before Chaldea?”

“Um,” Vy said slowly, clearly caught off-guard as her ears reddened past her hair. She then proceeded to duck her head and hide her lips with the dressing room curtain. “…Barely? Not much at all?” As if becoming aware of all the eyes in the room on her, Vy flushed, squeaking out, “Usually helped out in the house more than out?”

That’s kinda sad, Vy… was most certainly thought by one of the participants in the room.

Quetz proceeded to let out a very concerned squeal, jumping back and forth on her sandals in protest. “Pajarita, we are so having a girls’ day together later! You need more attention!”

“Please include me in those girls’ days too,” Medea added with a huff, hands on her hips. “Vy’s clothing is something I would want to keep coordinating.” With a feigned roll of her eyes, the Caster proceeded to tug at the dressing room curtain Vy was holding onto, shaking her head. “But enough of that. You need to change, Master. This session won’t go anywhere if you keep hiding behind that curtain.”

“Muuuuu…” said Vy from behind the curtain in question, her cheeks reddening enough to match the drapery.

“Don’t ‘Muuuuu’ me, Master.” Still, in spite of the retort, a small smile adorned Medea’s lips as she finished with a final, “Just go get dressed.”

“O-Okay…”

Rex decided to give Vy a break by looking away from the crowd of women, glancing at his fellow male companion instead. “So…”

“Hm?” Robin grunted around his stalk of mint, his eye still pointed towards the group of women in question.

Rex considered his options, anxiously scratching at the back of his head. “I noticed you and Vy seem to be getting closer lately, Robin… anything going to come out of that?”

The last thing Rex expected was for Robin to nearly spit out his stalk of mint in what was apparently a double-take, giving him a wide-eyed look past the fringe of ginger hair covering part of his face for about a second. Robin blinked once, then twice, before closing his eye and lowering his head. “...I have no idea of what you’re talking about, Rex.”

“This coming from one of the many Servants who saw me considering proposing to mi corazon?” Rex retorted dryly, the smallest bit of confidence surging through his veins with the comment. “Hard to believe there isn’t anything happening between you two with how often Vy runs up to you when you come around.”

Even with that point said, Robin was unfazed, replacing the stalk of mint in his mouth to absently chew around. “I’ve been with the little sparrow for a long time. Hard not to answer her call when she needs me.”

“I don’t think that’s all that’s going down, Robin, and that’s coming from the almost-married-man.”

Despite the good cheer, Robin wasn’t convinced. If anything, from Rex’s perspective, it was as if Robin had proceeded to wilt at the words, his shoulders slumping past the No Face May King as he rested his arms against his knees. “…Okay then,” Robin sighed past the mint in his mouth, “what am I supposed to say, Rex?”

Rex’s own quiet “Huh?” was quickly drowned out by the happy squealing of Medea and Quetz from afar, but he still stared at Robin as the Archer kept his head down.

Robin raised one hand to start counting down fingers. “I wasn’t able to be there for you or the little sparrow when the Foreign God bleached the world,” his thumb went down first, “could barely support you when you attacked the Russian and Scandinavian Lostbelts,” then followed by his pointer finger. With a sigh, Robin then folded both his middle and ring fingers, adding in a sullen voice, “Can’t forget the Chinese Lostbelt and how that fox bitch replicated my poison to get to Vy when you weren’t looking, not to mention the new Director.” Finally, his pinky finger fell with a quieter conclusion of, “Let’s not forget I couldn’t stop the Mages’ Association from Unsummoning everyone and leaving you and Vy alone.”

“Robin,” Rex interrupted with a raised hand, his smile dropping with the gesture, “you know all those things aren’t your fault. Mi corazon felt the same way as you, and I know I never blamed her. Why would I blame you?”

“It would’ve been easier if you did,” was the last thing Rex expected to hear Robin to say, and Rex stared at him in shock as Archer proceeded to lower his hand. “Not every Heroic Spirit can be as strong as your wife, and the Crypters keep proving that with their bullshit.” The mint stalk in Robin’s mouth proceeded to crack at the stem, probably from the intense amount of chewing that happened as Robin turned his head away. “…How can I be there for the little sparrow when I couldn’t even save her when she needed me? What kind of hero am I for her then, when I couldn’t even cure the poison that hurt her? Poison that bitch made based off of my Yew Bow?”

For once that entire day, Rex felt no words come to him. His throat was too tight for any to even try to come out.

Robin still kept his head down, not even looking at the spectacle playing out in front of him as he slowly removed the bent mint stalk from his mouth. “How ‘big’ am I, really, when I can’t even be a real man for a little girl who’s still looking for a hero, Rex? What makes you think the little sparrow could ever love me?”

Before Rex could answer, he felt his heart race at the sound of another’s voice.

“Mi amor! Mi amor, come over here! Bring Robin with you!”

“Coming, mi corazon!” came out of Rex’s lips as naturally as breathing, a stark contrast to the awkward silence that had settled between the two men before, and Robin tensed once Rex elbowed him. “Enough of that, Robin, my future wife’s calling!”

“F-For what is she calling us for—” was all Robin got to say before Rex was elbowing him again to stand up, and both men proceeded to rush over to the center of Da Vinci’s workshop.

“Um,” Vy said quietly, for once not hidden behind a curtain as her face turned a dark pink in contrast to Quetz’s bright smile. It was obvious she was fidgeting in the soft sun-like yellow one-piece dress that Medea had apparently made in the time the men were talking. With the hem of the dress going to knee-height, showing just enough skin along with the soft white sandals, it was as if Vy was dressed for a day outside in a spring pasture with friends. The additional green ribbon belt merely accentuated Vy’s figure as she tilted her head at Robin and Rex past Quetz and Medea’s shoulders, unintentionally batting her eyelashes at a certain Archer in particular. “I-I was told you two had to make the final verdict?” Placing one arm behind her back, Rex could see Vy nervously tug at the green ribbon, tightening the bow that kept the waist part of the dress together, her voice pitching upwards with her little bit of, “H-How does it look?”

“I kept telling her that she looks good in it, mi corazon!” Quetz said with a huff, reaching over with one muscular arm to push Vy out of her shadow and into their field of view, much to Vy’s audible anxious noises (something along the lines of “Muuuu!”). Behind Vy, Rex could see Medea and both Da Vincis nod sagely with their arms crossed over their chests. Quetzalcoatl continued to pout over Vy’s head as she pushed the Master forward into view, hands on her shoulders in an almost-haughty way. “But pajarita remains unconvinced! You two say something to convince her!”

“I mean,” Rex started awkwardly, giving Robin the side-eye with a wry grin, “you do look good, Vy. Right, Robin?”

Funnily enough, compared to earlier, it was as if the light had come back into Robin’s eye because his cheeks started turning a light pink to match his sparrow of a Master, his gaze darting around to look at everything but Vy’s face. “C-Can’t say anything else but that, little sparrow.” It was telling to hear Robin’s voice soften with warmth as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yellow and green look great on you.”

With her hair down and light in her own eyes from the workshop, Vy stared up at Robin for a second before smiling. “Th-Thankie, Big Robin. I asked Medea-san for the green because I thought of you!”

Rex did not miss how Medea and Quetz exchanged a quiet high five behind Vy’s back once Robin turned red.

Who says you’re not a real man with a reaction like that, Robin?

It was another good day in Novum Chaldea, for what it was worth.

#writing #short story #mastersona vy #rex #quetzalcoatl #robin hood #medea #fate grand order #passing days #gift for a friend #long post #implied robinvy #implied pining #da vinci lily #leonardo da vinci (caster) #rexcoatl #mostly unedited aside from what i looked over #tired vy says something #tired vy updates something

[midnightsvns]

Now I see daylight — a Twilight fanfic

summary: Edward spent his life so long in a ninety-year midnight. Now, all he sees is daylight. A short story about Nessie’s first prom. “How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.” words: 8,280.

AN: so. i was absolutely wrecked after reading the very sad note on which midnight sun ended. to lick my wounds, i wrote this fic, set 12 years after breaking dawn, on the day of nessie’s prom. 404 plot not found just fluff of edward & bella being happy with their now adult daughter. title/summary inspired by the t.s. song daylight. full text under the cut!

Bella and I walked with hands intertwined in the woods behind our house, on our way to the cottage a few miles away that served as our daughter Renesmee’s “room.” When she turned seven, we decided she deserved a space of her own, a space that was removed from her supernatural family who could hear every move she made even if she had a whole floor of the house to herself. It was not unlike the first cottage the three of us had lived in together, back in Forks, in the first year of Bella and I’s marriage. To me, those days seemed as close as yesterday—in reality, twelve years had passed like the blink of an eye. Our daughter was all grown-up now, about to graduate high school for the first time, and today was her very first prom.

We walked at human pace, enjoying the lights and the sounds of early morning in the forest. Before Bella, I would have hated moving at such a glacial pace, always wanting to reach my destination as fast as possible, never lingering under the sunlight long enough to contemplate the diamond-like sparkling of my marble skin. A constant reminder of my inhumanity. But now I relished having the chance to see my wife in the light of day. I knew that all the poets and philosophers who, for two thousand of years, had tried to define beauty, to describe it, had irrevocably failed—because none of them had been fortunate enough to witness Bella smiling and shining under the golden rays of sunlight. I squeezed her hand and chuckled to myself.

Bella, of course, noticed my jocularity. “What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

“I thought that was my line,” I replied, grinning at her. Bella easily controlled her gift now, raising and lowering her mental shields at will. Except in special moments of communication, her shields were always up. She could maintain shields around other people, too, granting peace for me and privacy for my family. The quiet that resulted inside my head was a balm; I could be thankful for it for a hundred years and it would not be enough.

She sighed, and her eyes were suddenly downcast. “Well, I’m glad one of us is cheerful enough to laugh today.” She stopped walking, let go of my hand, and sought shelter under the shadow of a large evergreen tree. I regretted seeing her move away from the sunshine.

Her mournful tone surprised me. “What’s wrong, love? You’ve been looking forward to Renesmee’s prom for weeks now.” It was all I heard the ladies at the house discussing as of late. Alice, our very own literal visionary, was making all their dresses, works of art that were sure to rival even the most revered of Paris’ haute couture scene. Rosalie was browsing our family’s sizable collection of jewelry—composed of heirlooms from our human lives and the very many anniversary gifts from over the decades—for the perfect sets of accessories that would go with Alice’s creations. Esme was renovating and redecorating the front room, the staircase, and the porch, in preparation for today’s sure-to-be endless photo opportunities.

Bella looked up at me, her golden eyes looking regretful. “I just… can’t help but be a little sad that she’s grown up so fast. She’s only twelve, Edward. I spent more time as a clumsy, awkward human child than I’ve spent as her mother,” Bella said, sighing again. “And now she’s graduating and going off to college for the first time? She’s not an adult! How are we even sure she’s fit to be by herself in the human world already? How is she gonna eat? How will she hunt? What if she needs us, or she gets hurt and Carlisle can’t get to her in time? She can’t just go to a human doctor!” Her voice got more and more agitated with every worry she voiced. “And what if she starts dating? And she doesn’t tell us because we’re not there?! She says she’s not interested in anyone romantically now, boys or otherwise, but it’s her first four years in college! She’s bound to catch the sights of some… some no-good jerk who—”

“Stop, Bella,” I said gently, interrupting her before she could spiral any further. I had to resist the urge to laugh at her tirade. It reminded me of the time I went on a very similar, equally anxious rant. Emmett had thought I was a crazy person, worrying about the myriad things that could wipe the human girl I loved out of existence. This time, though, these worries were much easier for me to assuage than when I was fretting over Bella’s mortality and her uncanny ability to attract danger.

I joined her under the cover of the tree and held her marble face in my hands. “Love, I understand wholly all of your anxieties. They’re mine, too. But we need to put a significant amount of trust and faith in our daughter if we want to stay sane during the next four years,” I said earnestly, cracking a little smile, and then started addressing Bella’s concerns one at a time.

“I’m also sad that it has been just twelve short years, and already, we have to let her go. And as much as we may not like it, she is an adult now. She has been for five years. I know she grew up too fast, but if that is the small sacrifice that makes the miracle of her existence possible, then so be it. And she’s had no problems being around humans since she started high school with us when she was eight. As for her eating habits, well, I am worried about the amount of junk food she’ll consume once she is left unsupervised. And she doesn’t need to hunt as frequently as we do…. Once, maybe twice, a month, she can come back here and any one of us would love to go hunting with her. She is also not so fragile that she would ever need the care of any other doctors than Carlisle, Rosalie, or me. As for her first romantic relationship, well... she’s smart, strong-willed. We have to trust that we have raised her well enough that she’ll be responsible, that she’ll know how to protect her heart, and that she’ll be comfortable enough to turn to us for any questions she might have. You are a good mother, Bella. You raised an amazing young woman.” She looked as though she was about to argue, but she said nothing. She must have lowered her shield because I heard her thoughts instead: We raised an amazing young woman. You, Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper… Even Charlie, Sue, Jacob, and Seth. It really does take a village. Her smile was wry.

I shook my head and smiled back at her. She was still bad at taking compliments. “We just have to trust Ness, love. As much as I would never want to see her hurt, we have to let her make her own mistakes. To let her take risks. And we have to give her freedom while she still thinks it’s ours to grant. If she thinks she’s not ready for this yet, or becomes overwhelmed in any way, she knows she can come back home at any time. All we can do is be there for her, and as long as she knows she’s not alone in this, that she never has to carry the world on her shoulders because we’re supposed to carry part of it for her… She will be fine.”

I looked straight into my wife’s eyes, still holding her face, hoping I had eased her anxieties a little. She visibly relaxed, then placed her hands over mine.

“You know, I really hate it when you make sense,” Bella stated matter-of-factly, glaring at me and pouting a little. I laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Then I pulled her close to my side and led us back on the way to Renesmee’s cottage. If, thirteen years ago, anyone—even Alice—had told me that someday I would be trying to soothe Bella after a bout of anxiety instead of the other way around, I would have laughed in their face.

We made it to the cottage in companionable silence, and Bella’s mood seemed cheerier than before, back to being excited for the day’s events. She knocked on the door, calling for Nessie to wake up, but our daughter opened the door in a flash, greeting us with a chipper hello and a wave to indicate that we should let ourselves in.

“Good morning, Ness. You’re up early,” I commented. Not that our daughter was a late sleeper, but she was also not what one would call a morning person.

“I’m very well-rested, thank you,” she said, walking to the couch in the middle of the cottage’s main living area and plopping down onto it.

“How many hours did you sleep last night?” I asked, suspicious. Half-human, half-vampire hybrid though she was, Carlisle’s recommendation was still at least seven hours of sleep a night, and she often ignored it.

“Seven,” she replied too fast. I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, six. Maybe five total…” she grimaced, sheepish now. “I was reading books! And I finished a movie.” I was unhappy to hear it. We really didn’t have an exact number of how many hours of sleep she needed each night, but I was sure five wasn’t enough for anyone, human or otherwise. I shook my head and sat next to her on the couch.

The cottage was a cozy place, with a kitchenette in the main room, one bedroom and a small bathroom down a narrow hallway. The main area was where Nessie spent most of her time, a rectangular room with big windows that let in a generous amount of natural light. The wide wall in front of the couch served as the canvas for a mural of the turquoise sea and white-sand beach at Isle Esme, painted from memory by Bella and Renesmee. The three of us had spent two weeks there a couple of years ago to celebrate Nessie’s birthday and my tenth wedding anniversary with Bella. It was my favorite painting in the world.

On the eastern wall was a bay window, Renesmee’s favorite reading nook, flanked by two tall bookshelves. And in front of the couch was a low coffee table, cluttered with books, stacks of paper, journals, pens, paints and paintbrushes, canvasses, coffee mugs, and a laptop. I sighed. The organized chaos, as Ness often referred to it, reminded me much of her mother’s old room at the Swan residence. Bella started tidying up the table immediately, replacing books onto the shelves and rearranging the mess on the table. I turned my attention to the kitchenette’s dirty dishes and the haphazardly discarded clothes on the couch, shaking my head at the untidiness. She spent her days with us either at school or at the main house, and sometimes even slept there when she felt like it. How could one girl create so much disarray after one night?

“Mom, Dad, stop it, I’ll do that later…” Nessie admonished us halfheartedly, but we were done cleaning up before she finished speaking the sentence.

“Did you already have breakfast, honey?” Bella asked.

Ness nodded and grinned. “I had cereal and two Pop-Tarts.”

Wonderful. Clearly she knew how to make healthy choices. I almost wished for the time before she had outgrown her distaste for human food. At least on a diet of animal blood, we knew she was getting some nutrients.

Bella rolled her eyes, although I knew she wasn’t really annoyed. “Esme will make you eat some fruit at the house. Are you ready to go now? Alice wants to do a final fitting of your dress, just in case she needs to make any changes.”

“It’s too bad Aunt Alice can’t see me in her visions. She could just decide to make any changes and then know which ones are right,” Nessie mused, then shook her head and bounded up from the couch, walking quickly down the hallway and into her bedroom. She came out a second later, hands deftly fastening a necklace on the nape of her neck. It was the necklace Rosalie had given her as a present for her birthday last year, a thin platinum chain and an oval pendant with the family crest on it. We filed out of the cottage, and Bella locked the door behind her.

The three of us walked together, Nessie in the middle. I asked her what books she was reading last night that she had gotten so little sleep. Instead of communicating verbally, she held my hand and showed me.

I started seeing her memories from only a few hours ago, implanted into my mind as seamlessly as though they were my own. I saw her reading all seven books of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series and watching the first film adaptation. I saw how much she’d enjoyed them. Then, I saw her thoughts on the character Aslan, the wise talking lion and savior of Narnia. She admired him, his kindness and wisdom and compassion…. Suddenly, I saw my own face mixed in with images of the lion. She was trying to tell me the lion reminded her of me.

It shocked me. I’d enjoyed the world of Narnia at the time they were published and became widely popular in the 1950s, and even Bella had told me it was one of her favorite book series. As a lonely immortal, I’d always taken comfort in the fact that I had an Aslan-like figure in my life to look up to. My father, Carlisle. It never occurred to me to think that I could ever fill that role for someone else.

I must be doing something right, I marveled to myself. If Renesmee could liken me to someone who reminded me so much of Carlisle, then perhaps fatherhood wasn’t as lost on me as I had so often felt it was. It was like I was walking on a cloud, an invisible weight lifted off my shoulders. I wrapped my arm around Nessie as we walked, trying to let her know how much I appreciated the privilege of her sharing her thoughts with me. And then she surprised us by speaking in a serious tone.

She moved away from under my arm and moved a few paces ahead, turning around so she could face us. She walked backwards as she talked, her footing steady and sure. “Momma, Daddy, I don’t think I’ve thanked either of you yet… for allowing me to go and study on my own. I know you’ve always tried to let me have a normal childhood, to make sure I never missed out on anything. I love living with you guys. I love talking to Grandpa Carlisle about history and art. I love helping Grandma work on houses. I love shopping and appreciating fashion with Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose. I love playing chess with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. I love our piano lessons, Daddy, and our two-person exclusive book club, Momma. I love going back to Forks on holidays to visit Grandpa Charlie. I love our baseball games. But now I’m ready to experience the world for myself. I know it must be hard to let me go and that you’re scared for me. I’m scared, too….”

If my heart were still alive, it might have grown in size from the joy I felt. Renesmee rarely addressed us this way anymore. It was always Mom and Dad or Edward and Bella, if we were in public. It carried me back to the days when she was still just a little child. A rapidly growing, highly intelligent child, but still our little child. She was always so perceptive; it was as though she’d sensed the essence of the conversation Bella and I had had before we reached the cottage, and this sober declaration was her way of telling us she understood.

“You have nothing to thank us for, sweetheart,” I said quickly, at the same time that Bella hurried to ask Nessie what she was afraid of, concern in her voice.

Our daughter blew out a long breath. “I’m scared of living alone, of being completely responsible for myself. But I’m really excited about it, too, and most of the time the excitement overpowers any doubts I have. I’m certain I wanna do this, and don’t they always say that something isn’t worth doing if you’re not at least a little bit afraid?” she asked, her smile reaching her deep brown eyes.

Bella paused and left my side to grasp our daughter by the shoulders. “All we want, Nessie, all we will ever want, is your happiness. And we want you to find out what that means for you on your own terms. If you decide tomorrow that you’d be happy never going to college at all, none of us will argue with your decision. But I can see how sure you are about going. I can’t promise you that I won’t be worried sick and that I won’t be calling you multiple times a day until you’re very, very annoyed with me… But I know you can take care of yourself now, and I can’t wait to see what you do next, baby.” Bella’s lovely voice sounded assured, no trace of the anxiety she’d confided in me just moments earlier. This was what I meant whenever I told Bella she was a good mother, and seeing her in action never failed to earn my awe.

“Thank you, Momma,” Renesmee said sincerely, circling her arms around Bella, and Bella hugged her back. “And I promise I will never be annoyed by your calls, even if you call a hundred times a day,” she said, grinning. “I won’t ignore yours, either, Daddy.”

This made me and Bella laugh. Of course Nessie would make time to take her crazy parents’ calls. No one was sweeter than our daughter.

Their hug ended, and we kept walking. Suddenly there was a glint of mischief in Renesmee’s eyes, and then she touched my arm and Bella’s to tell us we were being challenged to a race. Before the thought was even fully communicated she had already taken off running to the house. I shook my head and chuckled as we hurried after her. She couldn’t quite run as fast as vampires, but the head start might be enough to guarantee her win.

When we reached the house, my brothers were waiting outside for us to arrive. They both had cameras in hand—Jasper a professional digital SLR and Emmett a Polaroid instant camera. With Bella around, I couldn’t hear their minds, so I raised an eyebrow at the both of them in question. What were they up to now?

“Nessie’s already in the house, you rusty old slowpokes,” Emmett said in greeting, mocking me and Bella. But mostly me. “And to think you used to be the fastest, Edward. What a fall from grace. Let me take a picture of this really embarrassing moment for you real quick.” He positioned the instant camera near my face and pressed a button, and it started whirring as it printed out the picture. He grinned and deposited it into a large red handbag, presumably Rosalie’s, that he had slung over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my brother and asked what they were doing with the cameras instead of responding to Emmett’s attempts at vexing me. It was Jasper who answered. “We’re having a photography competition. Whoever contributes the most shots for Esme’s photo albums will win. She’s planning to keep one for us and one to send to Forks for Charlie, so we’ll need a lot of pictures.”

“Yeah, and the winner—who will definitely be me—gets to skip the bake sale that Esme is going to for some hospital fundraiser,” Emmett explained with an arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes again. Of course my brothers had found a way to turn this day into some kind of contest.

“Doesn’t the Polaroid give you a pretty significant disadvantage, Em?” I pointed out, wondering how much film he was lugging around in Rose’s handbag.

“Just because it’ll be more challenging doesn’t mean I can’t still win,” he replied, shrugging. “The pictures I take will be better. Plus, the easy way is overrated, don’t you think?”

Jasper shook his head at Emmett’s smugness, then told me and Bella to pose for a picture. I turned to Bella and she turned to me, and I held both of her hands. I smiled adoringly down at her as she stared back up at me with her deep, amber eyes. We weren’t looking at the cameras, but I heard the workings of the two small devices as my brothers captured the moment.

“Aww, you two are disgusting,” Emmett chuckled as Jasper showed the photograph to all of us on the camera’s tiny screen. “Esme’s going to love that one.” The Polaroid Emmett had taken was still developing, and he shoved it inside the red bag with all the others. Then they went inside to find better subjects for their contest.

Bella and I made our way inside as well. The house was alive with the whole family looking forward to tonight’s events. I heard Alice, Rosalie, and Nessie in Alice’s room, chattering and working away on their gowns. I heard Esme in the kitchen, making breakfast for Renesmee or perhaps practicing some recipes for the upcoming bake sale. I heard Jasper and Emmett running around everyone like a couple of paparazzi, taking pictures left and right. Only Carlisle was absent, hard at work at the hospital, but he’d be back in time to see us all off to prom tonight. Bella kissed my cheek in farewell before joining Nessie with her aunts upstairs.

I gravitated towards the piano, as I often did. I scanned the perfect mental repository of all the music I knew, trying out a few bars from different pieces—some my own compositions and some written by better musicians than I—but none of them spoke to me…. Until one did. I sat down and began playing the first notes of “Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” from Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. It was a piece that sounded abundantly better when played by a full orchestra, but I enjoyed it regardless. My hands glided quickly across the piano keys to produce the quick, jaunty chords of the exposition. Then the development came in ritardando, varying from the cheery main theme to take a strangely calm, nostalgic turn. Although it evoked feelings of nostalgia, it wasn’t sad. Only pensive about a time already past. The piece concluded a tempo, returning to the happy and powerful main theme. I didn’t realize how much the song reflected my mood until I was already finished playing it.

Knowing her thoughts were protected by Bella’s shield, Esme offered me her kind compliments out loud from the kitchen. “That was wonderful, Edward,” she gushed. “I have always been so fond of that piece. Please play some more, darling.” I murmured a thanks, then obliged my mother and started playing her favorite, the very song I had played for Bella the first time I brought her home to meet my family. Even though the memory was tainted by the agony and danger of the events that followed, I still looked back on it with some joy. That was the night Bella became a part of our family.

The day went on that way, calm and peaceful, everyone busy with their respective tasks. Nessie came down to join me once in the afternoon and let me hear a new composition she was working on. It was her best yet, and I told her as much. Bella came downstairs as well, listening to me play and rereading Persuasion by Jane Austen while she sat beside me on the piano bench.

Before long, it was time for us to get dressed and ready for the prom. I quickly changed into my dark brown suit. The color had been my only stipulation, the rest decided by Alice’s keen sense of fashion. Since that overcast Thursday morning—the day that had been my turn to ask questions—my favorite color had never wavered from brown. The chocolate-brown color of Bella’s human eyes was not just preserved fondly in my memories, but alive forever in Nessie, and it was beyond the bounds of possibility for me to separate such a color from the meaning of all my happiness.

After I was dressed, I tried to peek into Alice’s room to see if they were ready to go, but Alice, annoying as ever, blocked my entrance and told me to wait with Esme and Carlisle downstairs. I rolled my eyes but followed her instructions. Arguing with Alice was almost never worth it.

Carlisle was just arriving home from work right as I was coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Why, you look great, Edward,” he praised, setting his medical bag down on a table in the foyer. I thanked him humbly. He reached up and loosened his tie, likely more out of habit than out of a need to be more comfortable. It struck me as a very fatherly thing to do. Esme came out of the front room, greeting Carlisle with a bright smile and a quick kiss. “You’re home just in time, dear. I think the girls are almost done helping Nessie get ready.”

I snorted. At this rate, we were never going to leave the house in time. “Alice, we’ll be late!” I shouted in the direction of the stairs, knowing she could hear me perfectly.

“No, we won’t!” Alice chimed back confidently. I sighed.

Jasper and Emmett were already in their tuxedos and bounded quickly down the stairs, cameras still in hand. Rosalie was the one who joined us next, looking devastating in a burgundy mermaid dress. Emmett looked like he was about to combust. Jasper smirked at our brother’s dumbstruck expression, snapping a few pictures.

Then it was my turn to be dumbstruck as Bella started down the stairs, moving at full speed to be at my side in an instant. “Alice wouldn’t let me see Ness wearing her dress yet,” she complained, but all my attention was on her at that moment. She looked positively incredible wearing a knee-length, square-necked light azure dress, held up by thin straps with flutter sleeves and inset with a thousand little rhinestones that looked like stars. My wife could have been Selene herself, come down from the moon. I ran my fingers gently through Bella’s long, straight brown locks and pressed my palm to her cheek. And for the nth time in so many years, I was glad for the deal I’d made with Bella on our first wedding anniversary. “You look beautiful, love. Absolutely arresting,” I said honestly.

“I know,” Bella said, beaming up at me, and I laughed happily. This was our deal: whenever I told her the indisputable truth about how beautiful she looked, all she had to say in response was that she knew. In exchange, I was forbidden from spending money on gifts for her for exactly five years, and five years was such a short time for creatures such as we that the zero-gifts rule felt like it was lifted immediately. I circumvented the moratorium, anyway, by getting gifts that were for both Bella and Nessie, or both Bella and Esme…. It may not have been the fairest of contracts, but my intentions were of the purest kind. I leaned down and pulled my beautiful goddess of a wife into a deep kiss, and I felt her wide smile as her arms wrapped around my neck. We only broke away from each other when we heard Alice skipping down the stairs, dressed in a white two-piece cocktail dress that made her look like a mischievous fairy.

“Get ready, everyone!” Alice squealed, clapping her hands in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see your reactions, I know you’ll all just die.”

My sister was right. Renesmee—our only daughter, the greatest joy of our lives—stood at the top of the stairs in a gorgeous, peach pink off-shoulder gown decorated with the same little rhinestones that were on her mother’s dress and delicate leaf-patterned lace appliques, and she was a sight to die for. As she walked slowly down the stairs, one hand on the banister, Emmett and Jasper took pictures fervently, documenting the entire moment. I saw Bella press her hand to her chest, eyes soft and adoring.

“Well, how do I look?” Nessie asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a half-smile on her face. Her soft bronze hair fell in long, spiral waves down her shoulders, and on her neck, she still wore the necklace she’d put on this morning. She spun around in a circle, indulging the attention we lavished on her, understanding that today would not have been such a significant event for us if not for her. Esme made me, Bella, and Nessie pose for pictures by the staircase, then on the couch in the front room, and then outside on the porch. After Esme was satisfied with the pictures of the three of us, Jasper and Emmett set up a tripod and took a photo with all nine of us in the front room, our latest family portrait. When the photoshoot was done, we all filed into our vehicles to make our way to school. Bella and Nessie rode with me in the Volvo, and my siblings rode in Rosalie’s M3.

We made it to the high school just in time, and even from the car, I could already hear the booming electronic dance music and the excited prattle of hundreds of human children crowded around in the school gym. I prepared myself for the barrage of human thoughts I would have to hear tonight; the only people Bella would shield here were our family. Although Bella could shield a roomful of people from me easily, I still needed to be on the lookout for any suspicious minds when we were in public like this. The three of us met the rest of my siblings at the doors to the gym and joined the throng of high schoolers, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Little did they know how many lethal supernatural creatures had just descended upon this party. If they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy.

“Are you ready for your first—but definitely not last—prom, Carlie?” Emmett asked my daughter, grinning. Nessie went by her middle name at school to be less conspicuous. At first, Bella was greatly displeased by the necessity of this precaution, but she couldn’t deny the rationale. We stood out more than enough being newcomers in a small town like this one, with our sheer number, our wealth, our beauty, and our semi-frequent ‘family trips’ to avoid the sun.

“Time to dance the night away!” Nessie said, grinning back at her uncle. She bounded away from us to meet a couple of her classmates, two girls who reminded me of Bella’s human friends, not physically, but in their manner and thoughts. Ness didn’t have many friends, and we had started to worry that her only interaction with other living beings was isolated to her family, but she rarely found her human classmates interesting, and when she did, it was because she genuinely had something in common with them.

The girl who was like Jessica, a brown-haired girl named Lindsay, shouted over the loud music at Nessie in greeting. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are!” Jesus, she looks like she belongs in some runway show right now. I wonder what designer this dress is by? Probably cost a million bucks…. I kind of hate her. Lindsay’s thoughts were petty and vitriolic, and I resisted the urge to march over there and shield my daughter from the bitter girl. That would have done more harm than good, so I settled for rolling my eyes and whispering in my wife’s ear about the girl’s thoughts. It was gossipy and ungentlemanly, but I had to share the burden of being powerless to protect Nessie from a fake friend.

“Oh, that girl is in my English class,” Bella said, looking unsurprised. “I knew she was mean, but I liked her Shakespeare essays. Nessie thinks she’s smart.” I scoffed and tuned in to the other girl’s thoughts—Annie, a girl with short, pink-dyed hair who made me think of Angela. She greeted Nessie with a hug, and thought, Wow, she looks like a princess. I should ask her to take a selfie with me! My mom will be super bummed if I don’t take a lot of pics tonight…. Annie pulled out a smartphone, and the three girls smiled as the little device flashed and snapped their ‘selfies.’ And then they ran to the dance floor together, jumping and laughing to the music.

I stayed with Bella in a darkened corner, and we watched Renesmee enjoying herself. Occasionally, one of my siblings would pull us away and make us dance to the upbeat music, but neither of us were particularly fond of the DJ’s infernal choices. The DJ, a baby-faced young boy called Drew who had Spanish class with me, exclusively played EDM and bastardized remix versions of classic love songs. By the ninth EDM song in a row, I finally put my proverbial foot down and crashed the DJ booth on stage to bribe him with a fifty dollar bill so he would play a song of my choosing. The boy was astonished and could barely say anything back to me, but as I walked through the crowd to reach Bella again, Johnny Ace’s “Pledging My Love” started blaring through the loudspeakers. I took Bella’s hand as we walked to the middle of the dance floor, and once we were there, I pulled her close to me and led us in a slow, intimate dance.

“This is the most romantic song I know,” Bella whispered, her head resting on my chest as we swayed slowly in a circle.

I chuckled. “Once upon a time, in a very old and decrepit truck, this song came on the radio and provided an apt soundtrack for the most romantic day of my life. Do you still remember that?”

Bella lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, her eyebrows knitted together playfully. “My God, thirteen years and you’re still hating on the truck? I think you’ve got some issues to sort out there, honey,” she said, her beautiful lips turned up in a smirk. Then her face became more earnest. “But of course I remember. That was one of the best days of my life, too.”

Her amber eyes looked so full of love, so full of sincerity, that I felt like falling to my knees. As a mature vampire, more than a decade after her transformation, she should have no more than a few blurry recollections of her human life. But Bella felt so strongly about me, about the memories we’d made, that she vehemently held on to our past, even as each day, each minute, and each second brought us further away from it. I kissed her, always trying to let her know how precious she was to me. The song was nearly over, and I sighed. I could have stayed there dancing with her forever and never need anything more.

“Smile, please!” I heard Renesmee say, Emmett’s Polaroid camera in her hand. She snapped a photo of us. Then she turned the camera around, sandwiched herself between her mother and I, stuck her tongue out goofily, and pressed the button on the camera to take a picture again. Bella laughed.

“Where did your friends go?” Bella asked. “I was starting to think you guys would never get tired of dancing together.”

“Oh, they went back to their dates,” Nessie said nonchalantly. “So I decided to annoy Uncle Em by taking his camera.” A folky, lullaby-like acoustic song was now playing through the speakers.

“Oh—I love this song so much!” Nessie gasped. “Please dance with me, Dad?” She whispered the last word to keep any humans from hearing.

How could I refuse her? “Of course, sweetheart.”

Bella smiled and took the camera and the Polaroids from Nessie, saying something about finding Emmett and his big red bag. I led my daughter in a slow dance around the crowd, her hands resting on my shoulders.

“You and Mom looked amazing dancing together like that,” Nessie said casually, but by the look on her face, I could feel how serious the conversation was going to be. “I know the story, Dad. I know everything you went through before you could get here. And I am so happy that it worked out for you. Seeing how much you love Momma, how much she loves you… it makes me never wanna settle for anything less than that.”

My brows furrowed. “Is that why you said no to the boys who asked you to be their date tonight? Because you don’t love any of them?”

We kept swaying to the music, and Nessie chuckled. “Kind of. It’s true I said no because I don’t feel a connection to any of them, but also because I didn’t want tonight to be about some stranger hanging out around our family. I wanted it to just be us, so we could be ourselves.”

My heart swelled. Nessie always thought of our family first. That wasn’t her responsibility, and we would’ve been all too happy to pretend to be human and normal for any prom date of her choice, but she thought of us first. She was so like her mother in some ways.

“What did you mean, then? About never settling for anything less?” I asked. Something about the way she’d said it worried me, made me feel as though there were insecurities underneath her positive tone that needed to be addressed.

She took a deep breath. “I just… I realized that real love like I’ve seen with you and Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Em and Aunt Rose, Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice… it’s rare and it’s wonderful. And I think I would prefer waiting for a love where I could feel everything there is to feel rather than try to force something with anyone I’m not sure about. And I realize I could be waiting forever if I keep waiting for something perfect, but that’s the point, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine how I would ever find something like that. And that’s all right, I think.”

Renesmee’s words were full of conviction, and I started thinking about how, someday, the day would come when we would be dancing just like this—I would be in a tuxedo and she would be in a big white dress—at her wedding, for the father-daughter dance. Like her, I could not imagine yet the person she would marry, but I saw our family there. I saw Charlie desperately trying to ignore how our faces still remained unchanged. I saw Jacob, whom Renesmee considered her best friend, taking a break from managing his own auto repair shop to be there as her best man. It would be the happiest day of her life, just as how my wedding had been one of the happiest days of mine, and it saddened me that she couldn’t see herself finding that happiness one day. But I understood Nessie’s conclusions—or maybe more accurately, her fears—about not finding love. When I was still alone, I’d come to similar conclusions that the kind of happiness I saw in my family was simply not meant for me. Even when I’d found Bella, I always chose the saddest path, never daring to hope that I could have happiness with her forever.

“I admire your position about refusing to settle, Ness, because you deserve only the best. And I was just like you once. Before I found your mother, I never saw the point in pursuing relationships that I knew weren’t going to be meaningful. But you shouldn’t let yourself believe that you won’t find what you’re looking for.” I brushed a stray lock of curly bronze hair behind Nessie’s ear, hoping she could hear the honesty in what I was saying. “You know that for our kind, waiting through decades of being alone before finding who you’re meant for is more common than finding that right away….So please, don’t be so resigned. You are entirely too young to resign yourself to an eternity of being alone. It will work out, somehow,” I finished, echoing Esme’s confident words to Bella long ago when our relationship was at its very beginning.

Renesmee nodded, and I hoped my reassurances had lifted a little of the weight off her shoulders. I didn’t need to have Jasper’s gift for empathy to know that existing in both our world and the human world, not quite belonging in either, was a difficult thing to process. I didn’t know what the future held for my daughter—none of us did—but I looked forward to it with the same optimism my own parents had always had for me.

The acoustic ballad we were dancing to ended softly, and I escorted her away from the dance floor so we could rejoin our family.

“My feet kind of hurt,” Nessie complained as we found Bella sitting beside Rosalie on some folding chairs, but a smile was still bright on her face. She was having such fun tonight.

“Do you want to go home, baby?” Bella asked as Nessie dragged over another chair to sit down between Bella and Rose. Nessie rested her head on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose circled her arm around Nessie in a one-armed hug. “You’ve been dancing all night, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yeah, I think I wanna go home,” Ness said, sounding a little sleepy.

Suddenly, Lindsay and Annie appeared out of the crowd as an upbeat pop song started playing. “Carlie, come dance with us!” one of the human girls said.

Nessie perked up. “Wait, I love this song! Just one last!” she said enthusiastically, heading back to the dance floor with her friends. I shook my head, amazed at her energy. I sat down on the seat that Nessie had just vacated.

“We’re still a go for tomorrow, right, Rose?” I asked Rose discreetly. If the weather was safe enough for us to be out, we were going into the city tomorrow so Rose could help me pick out Nessie’s very first car. She learned how to drive when she was seven but always used the cars that belonged to the rest of the family. Now that she was going to college, she needed a vehicle to be able to get around on her own. Bella was coming with us, too, to be the voice of reason. Apparently, Rose was just as likely as I was to pick a car that Bella would deem—and this was her word—‘overkill.’ Rose only nodded in response, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

We all watched as Nessie danced to one last song with her friends, and I could pick her lovely voice out of the babble of other noise as she sang along. “There’s a mountaintop that I’m dreamin’ of…. If you need me, you know where I’ll be!”

“She’ll call us constantly once she’s in college, right?” Bella asked me in an emotional whisper, looking at our daughter jumping up and down and singing with her friends. Since she became a vampire, I rarely thought of my wife as vulnerable anymore, but she looked vulnerable now. If our bodies were still capable of shedding tears, I wondered if she would be crying. Honestly, I realized I wanted to cry as well. Renesmee was ready to create her own life, and she needed us less and less every day. Years ago, I’d thought loving Bella was the greatest accomplishment of my life, the only good thing I would ever do. I’d thought that, after a hundred years of emptiness, loving Bella as thoroughly and as completely as I did was the strongest feeling I would ever experience. But Nessie—she proved those assumptions wrong, time and again. It was an honor to have raised her, and I knew Bella felt the same.

I held Bella’s hand and kissed her temple. “I’m sure she will, love. I’m sure she will.”

After a few moments, the song was over, and Nessie was saying her goodbyes to her friends. When she had made her way back to us, she cried, “My feet are killing me! Please never let me dance all night in heels ever again.”

Bella let out a short laugh. “It’s fine, baby. You can take off your shoes and your dad will carry you to the car.”

“Oh, bless!” she exclaimed. Bella laughed again. Nessie pulled off her heels, which Bella promptly carried for her, and our daughter let me lift her up in my arms. As we walked, Bella wrapped her arm around my waist. I glanced up at the night sky and saw the pale moon untrammeled by the usual gray clouds, bathing the high school parking lot in its ghostly light. It conjured up memories of a similar evening. Another prom night—Bella’s very first. I’d carried her in my arms just like this, and I remembered how desperate I’d been, how important it was for me that she did not miss her prom, in case her future children ever asked about it. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have an empty story for them because of me. And here we were, thirteen years later, with the miracle of our own child in my arms, Bella’s arm around me. Not even the sweetest of my dreams could compare to the reality we lived in now. I stared at Bella’s face, wondering if her thoughts had taken the same turn mine had. She pressed a hand to her throat, remembering how I’d kissed her there that night. We shared a secret smile.

When we reached the car, Bella opened the door to the backseat, and I sat Ness gently down in the middle, making sure her limbs were in comfortable positions. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, looking seconds away from succumbing to sleep. Bella got in beside her, and I sat in the driver’s seat to take us back home.

At moments like this, I still struggled to believe how I could have been given so much happiness, so much unadulterated joy that went beyond the ambit of anything I had ever dared to dream of for myself.

It felt like a reward I didn’t deserve. Maybe it was futile, looking for reasons when I knew I would get no answers. But in all my musings, the only conclusion I came to that made any kind of sense was that… it was because of Bella.

Because of Bella and her goodness, that rare kindness I saw only in her—she was why I was allowed all this happiness. And I was just the fool lucky enough to be in the range of her shining sun. Lucky enough to love her and be loved by her.

How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.

I looked back at them again, Nessie now sleeping soundly on Bella’s lap, and Bella absentmindedly twining her fingers through the mess of bronze curls fanned out on the soft fabric of her dress. “She’s dreaming,” Bella whispered. I could see Nessie’s hand on Bella’s arm, inadvertently letting Bella see the pictures she was swimming through in the land of her dreams.

I was sure that no words in any of the languages I knew could ever sufficiently reveal the feelings of peace and contentment that I felt, staring at them, the two halves of my heart, at ease in the backseat.

Bella caught me looking then, her golden eyes piercing through mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled, lowered her shields, and allowed me to hear one thought: I love you.

“I love you, too, Bella,” I whispered. I willed the past and the future that stretched out infinitely before us to give those words weight, seeming too simple and inadequate to convey the depth of what I felt.

No, I didn’t have the words that could tell Bella how grateful I was for her. For Renesmee. For our family. Perhaps I never would…. But that was fine. I had the rest of forever to try and find the words. Forever and forever and forever. I smiled and felt lighter than if my heart were not made of stone, and sped up the car to take us faster towards home.

#writing #twilight fanfiction #kellythepitiablefangirl #thethoughtsofafangirl #edwardsmidnight #magicandmyth #mafitheedwardhoe #← thanks once again to my friends for prereading this and giving me feedback u guys are the bestest #midnight sun still has me very 🥺🥺🥺 and this entire fic was just an exercise in reminding myself that e/b are living their best lives now

[music-my-angel]

The joker

Prompt - Hi!! I love your work ❤ can you do where Louis is like being his same sassy joking self and he tells Liam to leave the band or something mean but he wasn’t serious but Liam gets really sad and hurt. Thank you Xx

Prompt - Could you do when about how Liam’s grandpa died while they were on Australian leg of the tour? Maybe he doesn’t tell the boys because he doesn’t want to be a bother but then they worry about why he’s so sad and they ask around until someone tells them? Then lots of sad crying Liam and cuddly protective lovey boys? Thanks!!!

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Louis was generally a very fun loving person. He was loud, funny and is always brightening up the atmosphere around him. Usually, he was the go-to person in the band if you’re feeling down or need some cheering up. Between the elder ones if Zayn was the protective one, Liam was the responsible one then Louis was the fun one. Harry and Niall loved talking to Louis. Zayn found a cheerier side to himself whenever he was with Louis. Liam could bet on himself smiling genuinely if Louis was around which is honestly why he couldn’t understand Liam’s aloofness with him lately.

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For the past few days Liam had been completely cut off from them. He received a call some days ago and looked very emotional. Since they were on tour, the boys thought that Liam was homesick because however much they tried to ask the boy, Liam refused to tell them what was wrong with him. So he stayed in his room for most of the time, upset and in a too dull mood to even talk to the boys. Obviously, Louis wasn’t going to let his friend stay alone for long. But unfortunately for Louis, him barging in Liam’s room, cracking jokes and trying to drag the boy out of his room didn’t quite do the trick for Liam.

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“Just leave me alone, Louis” Liam tried pushing Louis away but the boy wouldn’t budge.

“Come on Li, how long are you gonna sulk? Nobody wants to see a sulking Liam” Louis teased.

“Yeah? I don’t care! Nobody wants to be the joker like you are, every single time!” Liam snapped.

Louis took a step back, trying to not to be hurt by Liam’s words.

“What do you even bring to this band except of being the joker every day? Just get lost” Liam shouted.

“Sorry man” Louis whispered and walked away.

Liam was too lost in his anger to even notice Louis walking away in tears.

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“Li said that?” Niall couldn’t believe his ears as he sat by a crying Louis’s side.

“Lou, please don’t cry” Harry whispered, rubbing Louis’s forearm. He couldn’t watch his best friend in tears.

“I’ll talk to Liam” Zayn mumbled, getting up when he saw Liam walk down, in tears.

“Liam, what you said to Louis was completely uncalled for” Harry warned the man.

“I know… I’m so sorry Louis” Liam said, crouching down in front of the man.

“It’s okay. I was bothering you. You clearly wanted your space” Louis brushed off some tears.

“I… My grandpa passed away… I was too angry that I couldn’t go home so I removed my frustrations on you. I’m so sorry” Liam sobbed.

“Oh Li! Oh my God! That was what that phone call was about?” Louis asked and when Liam nodded, he pulled the boy in a hug.

“You should have told us” Zayn said, patting Liam’s back.

Louis forgot all his complaints with Liam at that time as he held onto the boy a bit tighter.

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Later, they all got together and helped Liam mourn his grandfather. Liam talked about the man he had great memories with. He broke down and the boys were there to pick up the pieces. Zayn offered him a shoulder to cry on. Harry made him his favorite tea. Niall suggested a movie to help lighten the situation and Louis, he was back to being his normal joker self. He didn’t mind being the joker if it meant that his bandmates could smile again. For Liam to find his smile again, Louis became the joker that Liam himself adored more than anything.

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A/N

Not too sure of this but hope you all like it.

#one direction #oneshot #louis centric #liam centric #general #harry #zayn #niall

[straycat-writes]

May I please request a scenario where someone starts leaving a cup of coffee on Ango’s desk for him, and occasionally there’ll be a little sticky note like “this most recent case looks like a pain. Good luck” or “you seem more tired than usual, be sure to get enough sleep!” I’ll let you decide if it’s romantic or just someone being a nice friend. Thank you!!

[What a cute idea :3]

coffee breaks (sakaguchi ango)

Ango stared at the still steaming cup resting on his table, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. It was the third time this week that this had happened. He would leave his desk for a while for whatever reason, to fetch some files or just stretch his legs, and when he would come back there would be a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him.

He looked around. “Tsujimura-san, do you have any idea who put this here?”

Tsujimura looked up from the file she was poring over and blinked, glancing at the cup and then back at him, “I’m sorry, I have no idea, sir.”

She looked just as confused as him, and Ango shook his head. Tsujimura had a habit of getting too lost in whatever she was doing, so it made sense that she wouldn’t notice her surroundings. Oh, well, whoever it was, at least they knew how he liked his coffee.

He sat back down in his chair and was just reaching for the cup when his eyes caught on the slip of paper tucked beneath it.

Oh? This was new.

He carefully tugged it out. ‘You should rest once in a while. xoxo’

It was a hasty scrawl, done in pencil on a sticky-note, and it left Ango even more confused than before. He looked around, as if whoever left it would still be around, waiting to be spotted. Obviously, there was no one who stood out.

He sighed, looking down at all of the paperwork still spread out on his desk. Folding the note and putting it in his pocket, he picked up the cup to take a sip, deciding that for the time being, he would let it be.

The next time someone leaves a cup on his desk, there is again a note attached.

‘Good luck with your latest case, and for God’s sake, get some sleep.’

Ango smiles at that, before folding it neatly and tucking it into his pocket, just like he had done to the one before it. The coffee, as always, was amazing.

Over the next few days, he received several such notes with the coffee, usually with something short, sweet, and encouraging. To his surprise, Ango found himself looking forward to these little pieces of sweetness during his otherwise dull day, and his mood would be a lot cheerier once he had got it.

Once, however, as he was returning after delivering some documents to the chief, he saw you trying to covertly slip away after placing the cup of coffee on his desk. He slowed down abruptly, hoping to give you enough time to make your get away. He didn’t want to embarrass you, after all. Once you had gone, he quietly slipped back into his seat, and as he once again stared at the steaming cup of coffee, the realization finally sunk in.

He had never expected it to be you of all people. Not that he was complaining, he had always liked you, and with your sunny personality and sincere work ethics, it wasn’t a surprise either. He just hadn’t expected you to pay so much attention to his well-being. After the initial shock, a small smile tugged at his lips. He needed to do something about this.

When you come to your desk the next day after taking a break, to your surprise, there is a cup of coffee waiting for you, complete with a sticky note. Beyond confused, naturally, you frown slightly to yourself and pick it up.

‘Your coffee making skills are phenomenal. Let me return the favour?’

You sense someone approach you from behind, and your cheeks heat up even before you turn around. Ango smiles at you.

“If the coffee is too terrible, we can also go out the nearby café.”

“O-oh, hey, Ango-san.” You say with a nervous smile, “How are you?”

He laughs, “I’m good, (y/n), thanks for asking. So, would you like to go and get some coffee with me?”

You pause for a while, before finally smiling, “Sure, I’d like that.”

#sakaguchi ango #ango x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #fluff #drabble #scenario

[e-milieeee]

miscalculated ingenuity—ladrien

Summary: When Adrien’s Miraculous goes missing, chaos ensues. 

Thankfully, Marinette has a little something up her sleeve. 

Notes: i suck,,, i opened rqs for ladrien june and barely did anything IM SO SORRY. and this sucks because my brain is fried. anyway this is requested by @involuntarydiaphragmspasm, @bricus27 and @gyrsaker365—Daydream and Ladynoire for @ladrienjune! Take Marinette being the mess she is. 

(Post reveal, post relationship!) 

Or read on AO3! | Kofi

Adrien’s Miraculous is gone, and if Ladybug doesn’t kill him, Adrien’s sure Hawkmoth will find out and do so.

He doesn’t know how he lost it. He doesn’t when he lost it.

What he does know are the consequences, and Adrien has thought of plenty.

First, there’s Ladybug. When Chat Noir doesn’t show up to the next battle, she’ll know—and because she knows who he is, she will inevitably come find him. Then she’ll find out he lost then. Then she’ll hate him.

That barely skims the surface of how bad it can get. If his Miraculous had been lost somewhere else, what if someone had picked it up? What if some random citizen in Paris had found his ring, put it on, and accidentally took up the mantle of the black cat? What then? Best case scenario, they find Ladybug to return it to her. But right now, it’s all worst case scenarios that are playing through Adrien’s head, and he’s certain that if something like that does happen, tragedy is going to strike. Ladybug’s going to accept a better, more responsible partner. He’ll be replaced.

Or worse—what if Felix finds it? After the whole fiasco of his cousin pretending to be him, Adrien can only imagine with mounting horror how bad that will be. It’s irrational, of course, given that his cousin hasn’t visited Paris in months—but still. Felix can be charming when he wants to. What if Felix, under the guise of Chat Noir, charms Ladybug? What then?

Then there’s the worst one yet: there’s a chance Hawkmoth finds his Miraculous. Adrien doesn’t even want what would happen if that actually transpired. All he can imagine is Ladybug having to face Hawkmoth alone, but with the power of the butterfly Miraculous and the power of destruction combined—even Ladybug, with all her wits and ability, won’t be able to take him on her own.

Adrien is going to cry if he thinks about it more. No, Hawkmoth must not have the Miraculous.

He tries to remember the last time he’d had it. The last person he saw before running home was Marinette—Ladybug—and he’d been certain the ring had been on his finger when he’d walked home. Having already scoured the entirety of the walk to school and back to the house and now confined by Nathalie to his room, even searching is not an option.

Panic nearly pulls him back under. How in the world is he supposed to face Ladybug now? Tomorrow, at school? What about an akuma attack, if he doesn’t turn up? Adrien can picture even worse scenarios, and they tumble over him like a precariously stacked house of cards.

He misses the creak of the window opening completely, but the voice that speaks is undeniable.

“Adrien,” Ladybug says, following the quiet thump as her feet hit the ground.

Adrien snaps out of his mess of thoughts.

Oh, no. She’s here. She knows he lost his Miraculous. She’s going to—what, renounce him? Disown him? He’s the worst partner ever, and he knows it. She’ll hate him.

Just when he’d thought they were getting somewhere.

But he can’t stand there forever, and perhaps there is a slight chance that Ladybug doesn’t know. Maybe he can play it cool, find the ring before she knows it’s gone, and be none the wiser the next day.

Adrien forces himself to turn around.

And screams.

It’s Ladybug’s voice alright, but instead of the red with black spots he’s usually accustomed to, she’s in a black attire. A hint of green lines the suit, the same color once-blue eyes have shifted to. Two ears sit on top of her hair, which swings behind her in a long dark braid. She’s the same; recognizable now that he knows the girl beneath the mask, but…

Adrien’s legs have turned to jelly and he’s positive he’s a second from collapsing. Ladybug—Ladynoire?—is smiling at him, although her expression is slightly uncertain. Then she holds out her hands, where a white box sways, and says, “Surprise?”

Between the choice of bursting into tears and collapsing, Adrien somehow manages to sit down on the nearest chair.

“I—” he begins, but the words catch in his throat. “What? I thought… I thought that… my ring? Why do you have Plagg? What’s happening?”

Amidst all the worst-case scenarios Adrien had daydreamed of, this is very, very good. But much more confusing than anything else he’d imagined.

Ladynoire stares at him with wide eyes. “I wanted to bring you cake,” she blurts, stumbling over her words. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not… scared,” Adrien replies numbly, although that’s a lie if he’s ever told one. Not scared, terrified. Absolutely shell-shocked. “I still don’t know what’s happening.”

They stare at each other. Then she shakes her head and mutters, “Claws in.”

In a flash of green, Marinette Dupain-Cheng stands in front of him, still holding her little box. Plagg flits from the silver ring on her finger in a blue of black, and plants himself right into Adrien’s hair.

“Surprise!” he trills, voice cracking. “Oh boy, you should see your face right now. You look like you’ve seen a ghost—”

“Plagg.” Marinette’s tone is severe. She waves her hands. “Read the room!”

Plagg clears his throat. “Okay, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost, then?”

Adrien plucks his kwami out of his hair so he can hold Plagg in front of his face. “Where did you go?” he demands, giving a little shake. Marinette winces in the background.

Plagg wiggles out of his grasp and points at Marinette. “It was her idea!” he accuses immediately, then folds his arms in front of his chest. “She wanted to surprise you because you told her you wanted to see her as Ladynoire again, and since you were feeling down, she also brought you cake. I told her it was a terrible idea, but she promised me it would only take a couple moments and you wouldn’t even realize your Miraculous was gone! Blame the Ladybug.”

He ends his tirade with a glare at Marinette to prove his point, and Marinette glares right back at Plagg. “You—you traitor!” she nearly shrieks, scandalized. “This was your genius plan!”

“My genius plan?” Plagg fires back. “Adrien won’t believe you. I don’t do plans.”

Marinette, seeming to have forgotten about him for the moment, pokes Plagg with enough force to send him back a pace. “You were the one who cornered me about using the Miraculous and surprising him. The only thing I planned was getting him cake.”

“Well, everything else was you—”

“Guys,” Adrien interrupts. His heart has ceased the hammering in his chest, even though he still feels like he’s about to burst. “I’m… still really confused.”

Marinette shoots a death glare at his kwami. Then, putting the box down on his desk, she takes a deep breath. “Plagg told me you were feeling down these past couple of days because… um, it’s your mom’s anniversary for disappearing, right? Apparently you were talking about me with the black cat Miraculous a couple days ago and how you wanted to swap again just for fun, and I thought that I could do that and maybe it would cheer you up. Then you mentioned your dad put you on a diet again and my mom was experimenting with cakes the other day, so I thought I would bring you a couple slices of that as well and then I got caught up in the bakery because I wanted to bring more than one thing and then I saw that an hour passed and I really ought to have come by before you knew your Miraculous was missing and—” She breaks off to catch her breath, waving her arms around wildly once more. “Then this happened, I guess.”

“Oh,” Adrien replies, because it’s all he can manage out. It’s still so overwhelming he can barely think. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette mumbles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I got too carried away, and just like that, all the time passed. When I finally realized I ought to come find you… well, I guess you noticed it was gone. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to make you feel better, not worse.”

“I don’t feel worse,” Adrien admits. He gets to his feet, albeit still shakily. “I was scared I lost it, and I was scared you’d hate me for that and it was terrible, but now that you’re here…” he opts for a smile that he hopes isn’t wavering. “It’s okay, Marinette. I know you didn’t mean to scare me.”

She looks visibly upset now. “But I still did make you feel worse, didn’t I? I’m really sorry, Adrien. I-I should’ve thought it through better.”

Adrien shoots Plagg a look. “Well,” he points out, “you weren’t the only one with the idea, so there’s that.”

Marinette shifts her weight, and Adrien decides to change the topic. He reaches for the box she’d set on his desk (thankfully, his hands have stopped shaking) and opens the lid carefully.

Nestled inside is a pile of sweets. Enough to last for at least three days, and also more than enough sugar to give his father a heart attack just by seeing it. Adrien grins.

“I mean,” he tells her, mood now cheerier, “if this is why it took you so long, you are even more forgiven than before.”

At that, Marinette cracks a small smile. “I made sure to bring your favourite flavours,” she tells him.

Sure enough, amidst the tower of sweets, he spots Marinette’s signature passion fruit macarons. Adrien can’t help it; his face splits into a grin, the previous terror melting away. It’s undeniably sweet—she’s undeniably sweet.

“Thanks.” He reaches into the box, plucks one of the macarons, and shoves the whole thing into his mouth. “Loosen up, Mari. It’s fine. Not one of your most brilliant ideas, but it makes sense given who pitched into it.”

“Hey!” Plagg’s indignant voice pipes up.

Marinette slips the ring from her finger and returns it to Adrien. The familiar cool band of metal is calming against his fingers. He lets go of the breath he’d been holding, then reaches out and pulls her in for a hug.

Marinette is still stiff for a couple moments before she melts completely into his embrace. She smells like strawberries and vanilla and comfort all around. “Thank you for cheering me up today,” Adrien repeats, “and bringing me cake. Even if you did scare me, I know you meant well and that’s all that matters. Just as long as you don’t do it again.”

She squeezes his shoulders. “I won’t,” comes the promise. “And for what it’s worth, Adrien, even if you do end up losing your Miraculous, I wouldn’t hate you, you know. I’d never hate you for anything.”

Relief and fondness rush through him all at once, and Adrien pulls back so he can see her properly. Then he leans down and presses a quick kiss against the corner of her lips.

Marinette looks like a deer caught in headlights when she peers up at him with wide eyes, and laughter escapes Adrien. “Your face is as red as your old suit,” he can’t help but tease.

Her face goes even redder, but Marinette manages to sock him weakly on the arm. “Don’t make me take away all the desserts,” she threatens.

Plagg, who has moved to sitting on Adrien’s desk, makes a gagging sound. “Can you take your flirting somewhere else?” he demands. “I’m glad Adrien’s feeling better and all, but—hey! Tikki! It’s the truth and you kn—mmph—”

Adrien watches as Tikki drags Plagg away, a paw pressed securely over his mouth. She gives him and Marinette a cheerful little wave, then turns back to scolding the black kwami.

A little giggle escapes Marinette. “Alright, kitty.” She loops her arm through his. “Which movie are we going to watch this time?”

Notes: Check out my fics masterlist! 

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#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #ladynoire #ladrien #fluff #post reveal post relationship #theyre both a mess fhkajfd #tikki #plagg #my writing #mlb fic