#and that thread is being able to hug my cat again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pleasantanathema · 3 years

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Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer!

There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

“So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

“Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

“Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

“Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

“Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

“Have you guys opened presents yet?”

You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

“No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

“I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

“Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

“I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

“I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

“Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

“Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

“Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

“I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

“No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

“What are you gonna name her?”

He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

“Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

“Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

“She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

“I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

And you still felt like you were missing something.

Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

Jean: You awake?

Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

“Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

“Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

“I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

“Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

“This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

“Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

“You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

“Y-yes, feels so good.”

His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

“You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

“Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

“Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

“Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

“D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

“Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

“Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

“I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.”

You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

“Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

“God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

“I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

“Oh fuck. Good girl.”

His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

“Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

“Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

“So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

“I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

“Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

“Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

“Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

“Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

“What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

“It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

“I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

“You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

“I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot jean #aot jean kirstein #snk jean #snk jean kirstein #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot #jean aot #jean kirstein fanfic

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niskoo · 3 years

Text

[22:00]

pairing: bad boy! Heeseung x reader

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: consumptions of alcohol

word count: 1.1k words (again lol)

a/n: UDIJHFIUWJA WTF THIS IS MY SECOND TIME POSTING A BAD BOY! AU IN A ROW??? AND LITERLALY THE NEXT DAY AFTER THE JAKE ONE???? A FEW DAYS BEFORE FINALS???? im screwed haha

It’s 11 pm, you’ve arrived at the party at 9:30, and you’re already tipsy and exhausted. Heeseung scowls when he sees yet another random dude trying to give you a glass of alcohol.

He takes it from him instead, sending him a sharp glare and a fake grin, protectively pulling you to his side. Once the guy is gone, Heeseung passes the glass to Jay, who surprisingly is not tipsy at all.

“Hee!!” You giggle out, stumbling in his arms, “I feel wooooozzzyyyy!!!!” Heeseung can’t help but chuckle lightly at your funny actions, sliding his hand around your waist to stabilize you against him, “I know you do, babe.”

Sunghoon comes from the kitchen with a bag of chips, passing Heeseung his car keys. The older mutters a quick thanks, before starting to trudge and pull you to the door.

He doesn’t get to get you out the door, because you’re pulling back and pointing at the dance floor, “Heeseungg!! They’re playing my favorite songgg!!!!” You’ve said that to the past 4 songs he’s had to dance to with you.

“Babe, not right now, okay? Maybe next time?” Your boyfriend tries to convince you, but all you do is jump and point at the people dancing, “Look! Even Jungwon is dancing!! I haven’t danced with him yett!”

As much as Heeseung would love to see you hanging out and having fun with his own best friends, you’re way too drunk for your own good. Without even having to ask, Heeseung is squatting in front of you and grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up to his back.

You simply wrap your arms around his shoulders and continue rambling something about the cat video Jungwon showed you the other day. He passes a bunch of random people, nodding respectfully and making sure to avoid anything peaking your interest around the house.

At last, he’s out the door, with you still mumbling random things on his shoulder. He reaches into his pocket to fish out the car keys to Sunghoon’s car he let him borrow, jogging down the street to unlock it. You two arrived with his motorcycle, and he’s not so sure if bringing you home with it is safe enough.

Heeseung carefully helps you into the passenger's seat, “Okayyy, up we go, into the car. Watch your head,” You don’t process anything, but you know where you are and where you’re going.

Heeseung tries to close your door as softly as he can so he doesn’t wake you up, before whistling and walking over to the driver's seat. He plops in comfortably, instantly turning the engine on. Before taking off, he glances at your tired form, chuckling at how worn out you look with your messy hair and droopy eyes.

Your boyfriend decides to reach over and pull the seat belt over your body, securing you safely. He sits back, and admires you and how you automatically pull your legs onto the seat and lean on the window.

Heeseung sighs, focuses on the road, and takes off to his apartment. He decides to turn the radio off, as it seemed to be disturbing your sleep.

A few minutes into the drive, Heeseung takes his left hand off the wheel, resting his arm on the armrest next to him. His eyes widen when there’s a sudden touch to his hand, your touch. Your hand drapes lazily over his, just barely connecting.

Shifting his hand, Heeseung places it on top of yours, his fingers slipping right through perfectly between yours. The gesture is soft, affectionate, it pulls straight to your heartstrings despite being drunk and tired. A smile spreads through your face as you play with his pinkie finger with your other hand.

You do this for the rest of the ride, too exhausted to even process that you’ve already pulled up into the parking lot of Heeseung’s apartment building. It’s when his hand pulls away from yours when you realize what’s happening.

The door to your seat is being opened, so you instantly reach your hands and legs out to Heeseung, “Carry me peasant! My legs are far too tired to hold myself up!” Your lover laughs at your silliness, but obliges to your request.

He locks the car, before starting to head for the elevator. You do nothing but hug Heeseung and once again snooze into his shoulder.

The ride up is short, after all it’s just 2 floors up. His apartment is just to the right, the first door. He’s quick to take his keys out and unlock the door before you slip out of his arms.

Heeseung shuts the door behind him, placing both the car keys and the apartment keys in the jar on the table right next to the door. “Okay baby, wake up,”

You feel the couch cushion below you, and instantly flop and bury your head in one of the corners, cradling a pillow to your chest.

Heeseung chuckles, you simply look too cute. “Honey, come on, let’s go to bed, yeah?” His hands find their way to your face, squishing them to bring you back to consciousness. You only grumble back in protest, furrowing your brows and shaking your head in objection.

Heeseung squishes your cheeks harder, “Come on, I can brush your hair for you while you brush your teeth, and I’ll let you use my favorite pink hoodie (FROM DANIEL AAAAA) for once, and we can cuddle too, and I can play with your hair just the way yo-“

“Shh, enough peasant. Take me there.”

Heeseung laughs loudly against your finger pressed to his lips, before looping his arms under your legs and body, “Yes, my Queen.”

He then hops up, surprising you as you lift off the couch. You scream and latch onto Heeseung with yells of how he should’ve warned you.

Throughout doing all the actions he mentioned before, you couldn’t help but soften at how loving Heeseung was, and how he always put your care first and his last, helping you do all your needs, helping you with your face care, even helping with putting your clothes on even if you’re completely capable of doing it despite being a bit tipsy.

Now here you are, laying in bed and waiting for Heeseung to join you to head to sleep, thinking of all the sweet things he’s done tonight. There’s a dip in the bed, before you feel the blanket being lifted and draped over your body.

Heeseung sighs into your neck, finally feeling the inner peace he wasn’t able to get at the party. He melts when he feels your fingers thread through his hair.

“Thank you.”

It’s a very sudden statement, but you don’t take it back, you truly mean it. Your boyfriend smiles and reaches out to hold your hand, “Anytime bub,”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung scenarios #i land #lee seeseung fluff

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flippin-fins · 3 years

Text

Voicemail/Calls

LadyNoir July 2021 Day 11: Voicemail/Calls

Read on AO3

She hadn’t meant to be late.

Ladybug knew it was the anniversary of their partnership.

1 year of Hawkmoth, Shadowmoth, whatever he was calling himself. 1 year of akuma battles. 1 year of fighting to protect Paris.

1 year of Ladybug’s partnership with Chat Noir.

They had agreed to meet up tonight, to have a night to celebrate fate bringing them together.

And she was late.

Her parents had asked for help during the bakery’s rush, and instead of watching the time, instead of paying attention to the meetup she had been looking forward to, Marinette had let herself be caught up in it all.

Instead of laughing at memories, caught up in eachother’s presence, she had been laughing with her parents, helping customers long past the time her presence was required.

Opening her yo-yo, she checked the time again and flinched. She saw the voicemail notification, but kept running across the rooftops, hoping he was still out there.

Finally their meetup spot was in view, but the sight of it made her heart stop. As she drew closer, Ladybug could see the blown out candles and a forgotten bouquet. The abandoned roof brought her back to a different day, months ago, and she wanted to sob.

She had missed him, missed her chance to see him.

Remembering the notification, Ladybug quickly opened her yo-yo and started the voicemail, hoping she hadn’t completely ruined everything.

“Hey Bugaboo,” the recording started, and she felt her heart squeeze at the nickname. “I was hoping to talk to you in person, but I don’t think that’s happening tonight. I was going to tell you when you got here, but I couldn’t stay long tonight. I have an early morning planned for me. I guess we’ll just miss eachother. I just wanted to thank you. You’re a great partner, if you aren’t always the most punctual,” his chuckle made her want to sob, the guilt blooming in her stomach. “I know we don’t always stand on the same side for how we view each other, but I appreciate that you don’t hold it against me. This has been the happiest year of my life, thanks in no small part to you. Thank you, Ladybug, for being the best partner.”

Trying not to cry at the message, she checked how long ago the recording was sent, seeing it was only from 5 minutes ago. Ladybug hoped it was recorded as he was on this roof, that she might have time to find him.

A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she didn’t know where he’d be going, who he was, but she pushed it aside.

Swinging on her yo-yo was faster than he could run, so she might be able to catch him.

She took off, letting her heart lead her, hoping it would find him.

A few minutes later, she started feeling dejected, and headed back to the original roof. She might have missed out on their night together, but she could clean up all the things he’d set up for them.

She didn’t pay attention to her surroundings, trusting her instinct to get her to where she needed to go.

It took her a moment, after she landed, to realize she wasn’t alone.

“Chat,” she breathed, worried anything else would break the illusion.

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was walking home, assuming you had gotten distracted by something. Imagine my surprise when someone stopped and asked me why I wasn’t swinging through rooftops together, why I was here on the ground and you were in the sky.”

Her vision blurred as she raced to him, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. My parents needed help and I lost track of time and couldn’t leave and-” Ladybug sobbed, not knowing what else to say.

“Hey, look at me,” Chat Noir coaxed, lifting her chin.

She looked up at him. How had she gotten so lucky, being paired with such a sweet soul, someone so much more forgiving than she deserved?

“You’re here now, and I’m here too, and that’s all that matters.”

Unable to respond, she squeezed her arms tighter.

Sooner than she wanted, she remembered why he had left. Stepping back, she tilted herhead, confused. “What about you needing to leave early? The thing you needed to do?”

“Getting to see you tonight is more important than getting enough sleep before an early morning.”

“Chat, you don’t have to sacrifice sleep for me,” Ladybug sighed. “Sleep is important. It’s important to be healthy.”

Chat threw his head back to laugh. “M’lady, I think one night of reduced sleep is worth getting to spend time with you.”

Frowning, she stepped back further, looking for her bag she had brought. “Well, as long as you’re here, I might have something for you.”

“Oh no, we’re going to do this right. Close your eyes for a moment.”

Ladybug glared at him for a moment, before she complied. She tried not to think about how achingly familiar it all was.

“Alright,” a voice whispered close to her ear, making her shiver. “Open them.”

“Chat doesn’t this all feel unnecess-” she stopped as her eyes opened. The candles lit around her, illuminating the rooftop, it was breathtaking. She turned to look at him. “Chat, you shouldn’t ha-”

Her breath caught as she saw him, the sheepish grin as he held out the bouquet. “For you, M’lady,” he whispered.

His greens eyes glowed in the candlelight, and it was all she could do to not throw herself into his arms. ‘Again,’ a voice suspiciously like Tikki reminded her.

She was caught in his gaze, frozen by his smile, as that thought floated away in the wind.

Chat chuckled, pulling the flowers back to him. “I didn’t mean to overdo it,” he started. “I just wanted you to know how important you are to me, how much this past year has meant to me.”

She snapped back to reality and took a step towards him. Taking the bouquet from him, she sniffed them. “Chat, they’re lovely. Really, you didn’t need to do any of this for me, but thank you.” Ladybug smiled at him.

“I wanted to make sure you had everything you wanted. You deserve it.” He pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. It took everything in her to try not to close her eyes and lean into his hand, but it wasn’t enough as her head turned and her eyes fluttered.

He stilled, watching her, savoring the moment.

Too soon, they remembered where they were and each took a step back.

“So,” Ladybug said, as she tried to move on. “Would you like to see what I brought?”

A grin nearly split Chat’s face as his eyes widened. “You brought something for me?” He whispered, unbelieving.

“Of course, kitty. You’re one of my best friends. I had to make you something for our anniversary.” Ladybug turned, busying herself with opening her bag, but not before she saw the tears in his eyes.

Not for the first time, she wondered about his home life. Ladybug hoped he was loved, wished he had someone the way she had her parents. He deserved it.

Pulling out two packages, she stood up, trying not to laugh at his eager expression.

“Here,” she said, offering him the smaller gift. “Open this one first.”

Gently, he pulled apart the wrapped, and revealed a knit black beanie. The yarn had flecks of neon green, and she knew the ribbed brim hid a small green paw print. Chat practically cradled it in his hands.

“You made this?” Chat asked, not looking away.

“Yeah, I knit it. I was going to add cat ears but I was worried that might reveal who you were if I saw it.” She shrugged, watching as he ran his thumb over the stitches. She reached out slowly, pulling back the brim to show him the hidden detail. “This, at least, makes it special, so it should probably stay hidden.”

“I love it,” he whispered, pulling it onto his head, over his own cat ears.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. “Now this,” she said as she handed his second gift, “is more likely for me to figure out who you are, so be careful where you wear it.”

He opened this one faster, excited to see what was inside.

He pulled out a black long sleeve shirt, first looking at the back. Embroidered there was the word ‘clawsome’ in green thread.

He turned it around to reveal the front, a paw in the same green thread, the shape the same as the counter on his miraculous ring.

In the bottom, near where his hip would be, she had embroidered a small ladybug shell.

She had to leave her signature somewhere.

She reached down to get one final surprise, the real reason she had gone down to the bakery earlier. Pulling out a box, she extended it towards her partner.

“Since you’re so sweet, I brought you some treats to enjoy,” Ladybug shyly smiled as Chat beamed.

Pushing past her outstretched arm, Chat picked her up off the ground as he hugged her. “Why M’lady, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were sweet on me.”

They sat down together to enjoy the dessert she had brought. It was a comfortable silence as they were each lost in memories of their year. Too soon, Ladybug looked at the time.

“Chat, as much as I’d like to spend all night sharing these treats with you, I think it’s time for it to end.” Turning to look at him, she saw the sadness in his eyes. “We can see each other again during patrol this week. But you,” she paused, flicking his nose, “you need to go home and get some rest.”

He sighed, but they got up.

He handed her back the box and they cleaned up. Finally, he headed towards the edge of the roof, pulling out his baton, and then stopped.

“I mean it,” he said, looking at her. “Thank you. Thank you for the happiest year of my life. Thank you for being here, by my side, through all of this.”

She smiled, trying to blink away tears, feelings, as she looked at him.

“You’re welcome, Chaton. Thank you for this year. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you by my side.”

He grinned before turning and jumping off the roof, baton already extending underneath him.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous lb #LadyNoir July 2021 #Day 11: voicemail/calls #ladybug and chat noir #My fic #I'm really proud of this #it's very soft #and features my knitting knowledge

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Dandelion, Dandelion

Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

When I was a little girl, my mama said to me

"What's your favorite flower, darling? I'll get you the seed"

I said "Dandelion, Dandelion, " that one's so pretty

She said, "Child, that one's not a flower, that one's just a weed"

Summary: Draco has always tormented you for anything and everything. One summer you cut your hair off and get a bit better at spells and Draco has no idea what to do with you now and you have no idea what to do with all this new attention.

A/N: Hello my darlings! This is a request from @darcypottah and now that it’s fleshed out a bit more, it will be a series, each part is going to be a school year (starting in the Goblet of Fire) or a summer between (the summer chapters will be shorter obviously) following the thread: A Hufflepuff!reader dating Draco and they get split up because Draco has to do something for Voldemort and doesn’t want the Hufflepuff!reader getting in the way. But eventually, they will get back together. Welcome to over 8,000 words because I have no self-control and this is the best thing ever not lying. It’s got everything and anything under the sun. Love you guys and as always let me know what you think!!

“Go ahead, run back to your friends,” He sneered. “I don’t see why they even let you into this school if you’re not going to do a spell,”

I hung my head, my long hair covering the hurt on my face as I rushed down the hall away from him.

Draco Malfoy. The most malicious kid in my year and a Slytherin no less. So, he thought it was acceptable for his taunts against me and my house. Not like I chose to be Hufflepuff. Not that I hated it either, I loved my house and my friends and everything we stood for... but why did it have to be me that he singled out?

I never said anything back, however. I could have, easily. And sometimes I wanted to, but I was more than that. I wouldn’t fall to his level. I didn’t know if I blamed him either. From what I heard of the Slytherin house; it wasn’t good company. Not that what he did to me was right... but I wasn’t going to be bitter.

Third year ended, and I went home for the summer. It was an unbearably hot summer and my hair was becoming more and more of a nuisance as time went on. My mother insisted I spend my days outside reading and practicing spells. Well, she said not in the house so... that left outside.

“I want it off!” I announced coming into the house at about midday. “Mother!?”

“Want what off, darling?” She asked, looking up from her book.

“My hair. It’s too much. It’s too thick and hot and I want it gone,” I huffed, taking the hair tie out of it and unplaiting it.

“Well, I suppose we can do something about it,” She smiled. “You won’t be able to hide behind it any longer,” There was a glint in her eyes of mischief.

“I’ll survive,” I muttered. “And besides, I’m a lot better at my spells now, and... I don’t need it. It’s time I... I stood for myself,” I took a deep breath uttering the words.

My mother stood and smiled, nodding me upstairs. In the master bath, she had me sit in front of the mirror and took out her own wand, brushing through my hair one last time.

“And you’re sure about this?” She gave me a pointed look in the mirror.

I nodded, swallowing my anxiety. I could do this. I thought about the freedom it promised. No longer would I have to spend every morning trying to force it into submission, nor would I have to straighten it... or keep losing and rebuying hair ties and bobby pins. Freedom...

My fingers ran through exceptionally short hair. There was something reminiscent about it... maybe a Shailene Woodley copycat...

And I was right, it was amazing. I felt free and lighter and bolder. I didn’t have to hide behind my hair anymore. I could be me. And that would be enough.

On the train September 1st, my friends fawned over my haircut and how golden my skin had become though I never realized all those days in the sun had any effect on me. It left me sheepish and wanting to hide behind hair that wasn’t there any longer.

“Woah, Y/n,” It was Cedric, “Nice haircut,” He flashed a smile at me that had me blushing and my friends giggling.

Draco passed my train compartment and our eyes met. His eyes narrowed, confusion in them, but I gave a smile and waved. It was a new year. I could be kind still.

_____________________________

“Who’s the new Hufflepuff?” Draco asked, not being able to place where he knew you from.

“There isn’t one,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Then who just waved to me?” Draco stopped short in his tracks.

“Y/n? Ya know the one you’ve been terrorizing for years?” Pansy said flatly.

“That was... no! She looks completely different! No way,” Draco scoffed, sulking in the compartment, not able to get your smile out of his head.

After all the years of his constant torments, you still waved at him and smiled. It must be a Hufflepuff thing. Always too trusting and kind. You were going to get hurt because of it one day.

It was ridiculous. You thinking that it would change anything by cutting your hair... and smiling a bit more... and were you tanner? Did your eyes always shine when you smiled? Had he ever seen you smile before?

He shoved all of those thoughts aside and waited for the world to make sense again.

He found normalcy in tormenting Potter and his pathetic friends, but not without seeing you on when he disembarked the train. You were laughing with your friends and talking to a few older years from your house. Again, you looked at him and smiled. When he sent a cold glare your way, you simply rolled your eyes and walked away with your friends.

______________________________

It was odd, being the center of attention rather than hide in the shadows. Everyone noticed my new haircut and new attitude... if you could call it that. I still felt like myself, just less afraid of the world around me.

The thrill of the Triwizard Tournament was a popular conversation of our house common room. Cedric was being urged to enter but he held hesitancy towards it.

Walking on my way to the library I passed him in the hall. I waved and smiled.

“Hey,” I offered.

“Oh, not you too,” He groaned.

“What?” I hugged the book to my chest, frowning. “I just said hi,”

“So, you’re not here to tell me to enter the tournament?” He asked hesitantly.

“Uh, no? I was going to the library, have a paper due in Snape’s class,” I explained, lowering my book shield and tucking my hair behind my ear. “I guess people won’t leave you alone, huh?”

“You have no idea,” He muttered, rubbing his face. “I mean, I want to do it, but now there’s so much pressure to do it that it doesn’t seem all that inviting anymore,”

“I’m sorry,” I gave a small smile. “Whatever you decide, you’ll be great. You’re the best wizard in our house, if not the school,”

“You think so?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t been here as long as you have, but I mean, it’s hard not to notice.” My cheeks flushed slightly. “I believe in you Cedric.”

“Thanks,” he stammered. “Maybe I will enter. Can I borrow some paper?”

I beamed and offered him a slip of paper and a quill.

“May the odds be ever in your favor,” I waved goodbye continuing towards the library.

With Snape’s essay done and my drawing for Herbology traced and refinished I headed back to my common room to get ready for bed and maybe get a few more chapters in of The Princess Bride.

When Cedric’s name was pulled from the cup, I jumped up screaming for him, as was the rest of my table and the entire hall it seemed. He flashed a smile at me before heading up to the front and I waved as an encouragement between clapping, beaming with pride.

“You know he’s only into you because you’re pretty now,” I heard the sneer as I walked back to the library.

Frowning, I paused, face to face with Draco.

“I’m sorry, were you talking about yourself again? And I’m flattered that you think I’m pretty,” I glared, hugging my books to my chest.

“Cedric.” Malfoy clarified. “He doesn’t actually like you.”

“And how would you know?” I snapped. “You don’t even know what love looks like,”

His eyebrows shot up in shock, and I was shocked at myself too.

“Draco, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” I apologized quickly before rushing into the safe haven of books.

“Y/n?” His voice carried through the shelved. I cursed and hid as best I could. “I know you’re in here!”

Biting my lip and pressing myself against the shelves I tried to keep my anxiety under control.

Why are you running from him? My psyche asked. Aren’t you better than this?

Maybe she was right, and I was better than this. I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the aisle. Draco spotted me immediately and stalked me down. I wanted to shrink back, but I didn’t. I held my ground and squared my shoulders.

“Since when do you apologize to me?” He hissed, inches away from me. “Too scared to say something hurtful then? Does it break your little Hufflepuff code?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “And I’d take Hufflepuff over Slytherin any day. At least I know how to be kind to people! I’ve given you no reason to hate me, but you have for years and I have every reason to hate you, but I refuse. That’s that makes me a Hufflepuff and proud to be one,” I spat the words, glaring up at him. “Say what you want Malfoy, but you’ll never be more than a Slytherin and I feel sorry for you,”

Something flitted across Draco’s face and I didn’t quite know that it was. It looked like regret and confusion, but that couldn’t be true.

“Hey!”

We both turned to see Cedric jogging down the aisle.

“What’s the idea here Malfoy? Leave her alone,” Cedric easily got between Draco and me, pushing his away.

“Here’s your champion,” Malfoy sneered at me. “Coming to save you,”

“Buzz off Malfoy,” Cedric snapped.

Draco rolled his eyes and stalked away with the dignity of a wet cat and Cedric turned to me.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. “I know he likes to pick on you,”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I whispered, watching Draco leave. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that,” I gave a small smile.

“Well, I was trying to find you to thank you for convincing me to enter the tournament.” He looked down, shifting from foot to foot.

“Oh, no problem,” I smiled. “You’ll be amazing,”

“I... um, yeah. Thanks again,” He stammered before heading out of the library, leaving me there very confused about what just happened.

The day of the first task arrived, and I was in the stand with the rest of the school, watching the trial of dragons. The cry of despair left my lips before I thought twice when I say that the dragon had burned Cedric rather badly. I shoved through the crowd and to the med tent, arguing with the wizard on guard.

“Who is it?” I heard the mangled question. “Y/n? She can come in,” Cedric’s voice was strained.

I pushed past the guard and into the tent to find Cedric and Madam Pomfrey, who was currently lathering some sort of cream on his face and shoulder.

“My stars are you okay?” I gasped. “This is all my fault, I’m so sorry Cedric,”

“What are you crying for? I’m fine Y/n,” He laughed that turned into a grimace.

“Fine!?” I squeaked. “This isn’t fine Cedric,”

“He will be fine Miss Y/n,” Madam Pomfrey assured me. “Do you need something for your panic?”

“No,” I wheezed, sitting on the end of Cedric’s cot.

“You’re missing the rest of the task,” Cedric noted. “Go on out, I’ll be okay,”

“I don’t really think I can stomach anything more,” I confessed, looking over at him and sure enough his burns were healing before my eyes.

“You’re such a Hufflepuff,” He teased. I gave him a sharp look, smiling.

“Are you really okay?” I asked again.

“Can’t even feel it,” He grinned.

I nodded and stood, “I should leave you be then, I’ll... Feel better,”

“Y/n,” Cedric called as I started to exit the tent. I turned. “Thanks for checking on me,”

I chuckled. “Oh, I mean there is a line of girls out here dying to know how you are,” I smirked.

“But I’m glad it was you,”

I felt my cheeks flush red as I exited the tent and caught sight of familiar blue eyes.

“Are you following me now?” I demanded.

“Can’t I just happen to be where you are?” Malfoy spat.

“Not when it’s you, and not when it’s me,” I crossed my arms. “What do you want? Come here to taunt me some more?”

A beat of silence.

“Is he okay?” I almost missed the question it was so low.

“Cedric? Yeah, he’s fine,” I frowned, confusion clouding my senses. “Or will be soon enough,”

Draco nodded and looked out to the other trials that were going on.

“You’re not going back out there, are you?” He read me like an open book, so I shook my head. “Such a Hufflepuff,” He rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile.

“Better than a Slytherin,” I shot back smirking.

My smile dropped when I saw three other Slytherins flock his sides. I suddenly got very anxious and fearful as I rushed off back to... witnesses. My friend Abigail met me under the stands, knowing I would want to stay, and we headed back to the common room together as I told her about Cedric’s wellbeing and my encounter with Malfoy.

“There’s something not right about that boy,” Abby sighed.

“I dunno... up until lately I would have agreed, but now it’s like something’s changed.” I picked up my book.

“Oh, don’t tell me you have a thing for Malfoy,” She uttered in disgust. “Besides, I thought you liked Cedric,”

“I don’t have a thing for Malfoy. And I don’t know how I feel about Cedric just yet. He is sweet, but maybe Draco is right, and he just likes me because I got pretty,” I sneered the word.

“Did you just say that Draco might be right about something?” Abby gaped at me.

“No!” I refuted. “Yes? Maybe?” I leaned my head on the back of the couch.

“Of all the people you could be loyal to and you choose Malfoy,” Abby baited.

I laughed and rolled my eyes diving back into my book and the Fire Swamp with Wesley and Buttercup, losing myself for a while in the tale of true love.

Fast asleep, I dreamt of my book, being saved by a man in a mask with stellar blue eyes. I awoke suddenly when those blue eyes became Draco’s and not Wesley’s. Rubbing my face, I groaned and rolled over huffing.

“I do not like Draco Malfoy,” I muttered to myself and my psyche.

_____________________________

Something burned in his veins when Draco watched you rush down to Cedric after his injury. If he had been out there, he wouldn’t have been so stupid. So, he chased after you.

He watched the fear in your eyes grow as Crabbe Goyle and Parkinson joined him during your chat and followed you with his eyes as you ran off. Did he really scare you that much? Were you so afraid to be alone with him and his friends?

Duh, The voice in his head chimed in. Look what you’ve done to her for the past three years.

He found himself regretting harassing you all those years in the quiet of the night. Of course, he noticed that you changed. You weren’t so shy anymore, and you no longer hid behind your hair or let people—him—walk over you. It was the confidence that was... attractive.

“Get a grip Malfoy, she’s a Hufflepuff,” He muttered to himself staring at the ceiling.

____________________________

The announcement of the Yule Ball was just as hyped as the tournament was as it was the only topic for conversation as the holidays approached. Many couples paired up quickly, crossing house and school lines easily.

I didn’t plan on going. I wasn’t one for large crowds or loud music. I. preferred the quiet and softness of familiar company. Not like guys didn’t try to ask me. It was rather annoying. No once had they talked to me in three years but now, they attacked me in the hallways asking me to go with them.

I was at the end of my patience when I nearly ran into Cedric in the hall.

“Hey,” He waved and smiled.

“Oh, not you too,” I complained.

“Now where have I heard that before?” He teased. “You okay?”

“No,” I sulked, “People won’t leave me alone. Everyone wants to ask me to the Ball,”

“Oh, by the way...” He grinned.

“Finish that statement and I will hex you,” I snapped, earning me a laugh.

“I really doubt that.” Cedric raised an eyebrow. “But if you want, tell them you’re going with me, to get them to leave you alone,”

“That’s sweet Cedric, but I’m really not going,” I explained for the umpteenth time. “And I do not want to have to face your fangirl club.” I muttered darkly.

“Well, the offer still stands Y/n,” His smile was soft. “See you around?” He asked as the bell rang.

“Yeah, see you Cedric,”

Professor Sprout scolded me for being late, but a quick smile and she was pacified. We were reviewing for the upcoming exam, so I took out my notes from the semester. Each of my drawings were close to accurate as I took time to perfect them.

“You’re going with Cedric then?”

“What do you want Malfoy?” I snapped, not particularly annoyed as I sounded.

“You’re going with Cedric to the Yule Ball,” He restated, not really asking this time, leaning against my table.

“What does it matter to you?” I looked at him and found him staring at my drawings. I covered them quickly.

“Well, if he wasn’t going to take you...”

“Oh, shove off, Malfoy,” I snapped, anger rising in me at his game. “You think you’re funny? Asking a little Hufflepuff to the Ball so you can what embarrass me? Get my hopes up and then show up with someone else? No thank you, I’ll save myself the regret.”

“Sheesh, lighten up Y/n.” He muttered, rolling his eyes. “I... I thought maybe I could make up to you how I treated you over the years... you’re not the only one who can change Y/n.” He walked off before I could respond, and it left me gaping at the back of his head.

“Hey Y/n can I see—”

“Neville I will give you them later but come and closer and I will lose my temper,” I hissed, my voice ice cold.

Draco clouded my thoughts as the day went on. I wanted to apologize for what I said, but I never found the chance. It had been a week and I still hadn’t managed to talk to him. How had we gone from me avoiding his constant teasing to him avoiding me completely?

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Abby asked as she was leaving our room for the ball.

“I’m sure,” I smiled, “You look amazing, have a great time,”

“It won’t be the same without you,” She sighed and gave a final wave before leaving me to my thoughts and the snow falling softly outside.

_____________________________

With Pansy on his arm Draco still couldn’t draw his thoughts from you. The words you snapped at him cut him deep because they were true. If it had been any other time, he would have asked you as a joke and done something awful to humiliate you... but he didn’t want to, not this time.

Maybe it would take a bit more to show you that he had changed, so he didn’t interfere with your life as best he could manage, giving you a break. Maybe that would show you.

He was disappointed to see that you really weren’t going, and it wasn’t just an excuse you were giving to other guys because you were waiting for someone to ask you. But you were never one for excitement or large crowds. You were never at Quidditch matches and rushed out of the Great Hall whenever you could. He thought it was to escape him, that he had you on the run, but it might have had nothing to do with him.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Pansy asked. “Seriously Draco, leave her alone. She doesn’t want you. She’s a bloody Hufflepuff.” She scoffed.

“Better than Slytherin,” He muttered too low for Pansy to hear.

When Draco heard about the second task and the potential danger that you were in for talking to Cedric so much, he stood from Snape’s lecture and left immediately, on his way to find you if he wasn’t too late already.

Maybe that would make it up to you. Over the past couple months, whenever your eyes met his, there was a sad look behind your stare, and he had no idea where it came from or what he had done to get that sort of reaction from you. It’s not like he had talked to you, or badly about you.

“Y/n!” He was relieved to see you in the hall.

Your friend, who was chatting with you quickly scurried away, leaving you and him alone.

“Are you done avoiding me now?” You huffed, not meeting his eyes.

“Avoiding you?” He stopped in his tracks.

Sighing you shook your head.

“Forget it, what do you want Draco,” Your eyes still didn’t meet his.

“I... The second challenge... you’ve been talking to Cedric a lot lately...” He had no idea how to word what he wanted to say.

“We’re not dating if that’s what you’ve come to mock me for,” You were so closed off to him and he hated it.

Part of him was relieved to hear that you weren’t dating Cedric though. The burning in his blood faded at the thought, or rather shifted into curiosity.

“Why not?” The question left his mouth before he could stop it.

“What do you mean why not?”

Oh, you were angry. He had never seen you so malice towards anyone. Is this how others saw him?

“I... you two... I don’t know. You’re both in the same house, and he seemed to fancy you...” Draco stammered.

“He only liked me because I got pretty,” You mumbled, his words from months ago on your lips. “You said it yourself,”

“Oh, so now you listen to me?” He exasperated. “You’re unbelievable Y/n,”

“I’m unbelievable?” You gaped at him. “Look at who’s talking! Please tell me what’s so wrong about a Hufflepuff being loyal and kind? Is that news to you!?”

“Loyal to who!?” He barked.

“You!”

Your voice rose as you yelled at him, stopping all of the things that he wanted to yell at you. You were loyal... to him? Why the hell had you chosen him to be loyal to? He was the last person you should trust.

I have every reason to hate you, but I refuse, Your words echoed in his mind. Was that what it meant to be loyal? Not whatever his friends were to him... they had to follow him because of who his parents were but you? You were right, you had no reason to be loyal to him.

“Just... forget it Draco,” You muttered, “Forget whatever this is...” You started to walk away.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” He called after you.

____________________________

I froze, millions of thoughts running through my head. I slowly faced him, daring to meet his eyes.

“What do you mean you’ve tried?” My voice was low and calculated.

“He didn’t like you because you cut your hair, he likes you because you’re confident, and you light up a room when you smile, and you’re nice to assholes like me,” His eyes were fixed on the floor.

“Draco?” I took a careful step toward him.

His gaze slowly met mine.

“The second task.” He muttered. “The champions have to save who they hold dear, and I thought...”

“You thought that I would be in danger,” A warm feeling spread through my chest as I pieced together his words. “And you tried to find me,”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m okay Draco,” I reaffirmed softly. “We both are,”

“How is any of this okay?” He muttered. “A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff.”

A smile touched my lips as all of my walls and prejudices against the man before me started to fall. Maybe I had made the right choice to be loyal to him.

“Y/n!?” It was Cedric’s voice from behind me as he came trotting over. Again, he placed himself between Draco and me protectively.

“What are you doing here Malfoy?” Cedric sneered.

“Cedric, leave him alone,” I groaned, pushing past him. “He came here to see if I was okay after he heard about the second task,” Now I was between the two boys, defending Draco.

“Doubtful,” Cedric muttered. “Anyway. I’m glad you’re safe. Have you seen Cho?” His worry for me seemed false as he quickly changed the subject.

“No? Maybe she’s the one they took,” I offered the solution.

“Right, thanks, well... see you.” He barely got out before making his way toward the lake.

There was a sinking feeling in my chest that Draco had been mistaken and Cedric really only did like me for my looks. I felt so stupid in that moment and tensed, ready for Draco to goad it over me.

“I’m sorry about that,” I whispered softly turning to him.

“Nothing I don’t deserve,” Malfoy muttered under his breath.

“Doesn’t make it right,” I retorted, a smile barely touching my lips, a sigh escaping through them. “I guess you were right, he never really liked me,” I wrapped my arms around myself. “My mother says I’m going to keep getting myself hurt because I’m so trusting.” The thought rambled its way out before I could stop it.

Draco didn’t say anything, instead he headed off in the direction that Cedric was going, leaving me alone and confused again. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t go to the Yule Ball after all.

It had been about a week since the second task, and Draco and I had settled into some sort of odd friendship. I wasn’t afraid to be around him any longer and he didn’t seem so defensive about everything I said. It was jarringly comforting.

______________________________

“It is to happen upon the day of the third task,” His father gloated. “We will rise to power once more,”

Draco paused outside the door, listening in but his father gave away nothing more. Fear and panic struck his heart as he thought about what his father’s words meant. He knew that the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord were planning something, but this was the most information he had heard in a while.

Then his thoughts went to you. You were so kind and trusting. It was odd to think about you in the context of these things, they seemed so much darker and sinister than the sunny world you lived in and had invited him into.

You were going to hate him as soon as you found out. You’d never trust him again.

Do you really believe that? After everything she’s done for you? The voice in his head chided.

Either way you did choose, he was going to keep you safe because his father be damned if anyone hurt you because of this madness. You didn’t deserve to be hurt because of this, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep you out of it, or safe amongst it. He would let you keep your sunshine if it was the last thing he did.

_______________________________

“Are you going to the third task? It’s at the pitch, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down there,” Draco’s voice was quizzical as he leaned against the library table I was at.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I’m not one for large crowds,”

“I know,” He offered a smile. “But... if you want you can sit with me, I doubt many Slytherins will show.”

I looked up from my book, surprise written in my features. Draco looked nervous as he glanced at the floor, fiddling with the hem of his robes.

“I’d love to,” A smile stretched across my face.

“Really?” It was his turn to be shocked.

“Yes? Is there something that I’m missing?” I cocked my head, raising an eyebrow at him, an amused expression on my face.

“Well, the last time I asked you somewhere you snapped at me,” He mumbled, folding his arms.

“Oh,” My voice fell. “I never did apologize for that did I? I’m sorry, Draco, I should have trusted you.”

“I wouldn’t have trusted me,” He muttered. “I know why you did it,”

“Didn’t make it right,” I smiled weakly.

“You’re gonna get hurt one day, being this trusting,” A smirk flickered across his face as his eyes met mine.

“Is that a threat?” I challenged lightheartedly.

He laughed and shook his head. I couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, I had heard him laugh without malicious intent.

“How can you like him!?” Abby feigned distress. “He’s... ugh. So frustrating and a Slytherin and a Malfoy!”

I grinned and hugged a pillow.

“He really is trying Abby,” I defended. “And I don’t like him, were friends, that’s it.”

“He ignored you for like a week!”

“Apparently that was him giving me a break from being teased by his friends, if he avoided me, so would his friends.”

It was the oddest explanation that Draco had given, but he was trying, wasn’t he? And I had to admit it was sort of cute how he thought ignoring a person would get them to like you but... he was trying. It made me smile whenever I thought about it.

“You are the only person in the world who would ever take a chance on him,” Abby groaned in defeat, flopping on the couch next to me. “You’re too pure for your own good,”

I rolled my eyes at her antics.

“Maybe he just needs someone to believe in him,” I whispered softly.

“And, of course, it had to be you,” Abby grinned at me and I laughed, shrugging.

The chill of winter passed and as April shifted to May at Hogwarts, and the wildflowers began to grow from the ground again. I found myself sitting beside the lake, rereading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

“Is that a muggle book?” His voice was disgusted but not as cruel.

“Yes,” I smiled looking up, meeting blue eyes as Draco squinted at me in the summer sun.

“Why are you reading it?” He scoffed.

Rolling my eyes, I placed my mark in the page and closed the book.

“Would you like to join me Draco?” I ran a hand through my hair to remove it from my face where the summer breeze had tousled it.

“Are you going to keep reading that thing?” He asked.

“Well, if you keep me company, I don’t need a book, now do I?” I challenged.

He grumbled something and sat down beside me under the tree, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“What’s it about?” He wondered aloud, not diverting his gaze from the landscape.

“What? My book?” I looked up from my small pile of dandelions that I was currently trying to remember how to fashion a crown from but couldn’t quite get it.

He shrugged, his arms resting on his knees. Rolling my eyes at his hidden curiosity, I picked up the book ad opened to the page I was on and began to read aloud:

“Lord love you, Son of Adam, what a simple thing to say!” answered Mr. Beaver with a great laugh. “Turn him into stone? If she can stand on her two feet and look him in the face it’ll be the most she can do and more than I expect of her. No, no. He’ll put all to rights as it says in an old rhyme in these parts:

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

You’ll understand when you see him.”

“But shall we see him?” asked Susan.

“Why, Daughter of Eve, that’s what I brought you here for. I’m to lead you where you shall meet him,” said Mr. Beaver.

“Is-is he a man?” asked Lucy.

“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion— the Lion, the great Lion.”

“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he — quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

“This is ridiculous,” He muttered. “A king a lion? Ha.” He laid on the patch of grass and I lowered my book. “Talking animals,” He scoffed.

“I can stop reading,” I mused, light heartedly threatening.

“No, keep going,” He sat up quickly, a plea on his face.

Laughing I continued to read of the Pevensie children in the land of Narnia and of the hope of Aslan. The sun began to sink behind the lake, and it became much too dark to read.

“Don’t stop now,” Draco whined. “I was just starting to bear it.”

“It’s too dark,” I pointed out with a chuckle, standing and stretching. “And we need to get dinner before it gets too late anyway.”

“Whatever,” He muttered, standing. “Here,” He thrusted the bundle of dandelions that I had been frustrated with earlier, but now they were fashioned into a crown. “Can’t do anything can you?” He snapped with less vigor than usual and stalked up towards the school.

A smile stretched across my face as I leaned against the tree, looking at the flower crown in my hands.

“No,” I answered to myself, “But he’s learning how to,”

Back in my common room, I sighed, content.

“And where have you been all afternoon?” Abby demanded. “You totally missed dinner,”

“I was reading, guess I lost track of time,” I shrugged.

“And no one in particular you spent this time with?” She was grinning.

“No,” I drawled. “No one in particular,”

“Oh, you’re a rotten liar Y/n! You spent the day with Draco!” Abby accused me, beaming. “Still don’t like him then?” She mused.

“We’re friends,” I reaffirmed, running my fingers over the petals of the flowers. “Friends,”

“Uhuh,” Abby wasn’t convinced, and neither was I.

__________________________________

Draco hated the book that you read to him. It was muggle and preposterous that you even had it on school grounds. What would his father say?

But then you started to read it to him, and he got lost in your words and the excitement. He was whisked away to a land far from the world he was living in. One of kings and queens and talking animals and prophecies that promised good and hope.

Maybe the book wasn’t so bad. Maybe the muggle who wrote it knew that someone out there needed it. To get lost in a fairytale. To shove away all of his family and his expectations, and for once, just be a king doing the right thing somewhere else.

So, he sent you a quick letter asking if you keep reading to him tomorrow.

Your response was almost immediate with a yes, and the instruction to meet you under the same tree that you had today.

“What do you mean Aslan’s dead!?” He exclaimed. “He can’t be dead!”

It wasn’t right, Aslan, the king of all just gave his life for a traitor who should have been killed instead, and Aslan just... laid himself down? When he was innocent?

“Draco, are you okay?” The concern in your voice was real.

“No! How can I be okay!? Why did you even read this to me!?” He demanded, standing, about to walk off.

“Draco!” You called, scrambling up. “He doesn’t stay dead! Will you come back here!?”

He stopped in his tracks at your words.

“What?” He snapped.

You rolled your eyes and gestured for him to sit back down. He thought he heard you mutter “drama queen,” but he was too keen on the story to mention it. He looked at you expectantly, sitting cross legged in front of you as you settled before him and continued to read:

“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it magic?”

“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.

“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.

“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.

“Not now,” said Aslan. “You’re not — not a — ?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost.

Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.

“Do I look it?” he said.

“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh, Aslan!” cried Lucy,”

You paused, a gentle smile on your lips as your eyes searched the horizon.

“Well?” He demanded, wanting to hear more.

“It’s late, Draco,” You sighed softly, closing the book. “I think Abby will kill me if I miss dinner again,”

“You told her you’re here with me?” Curiosity riddled him.

“Of course,” You smiled, standing and offering a hand to him. He took it and you pulled him up. “Why? Afraid of ruining your reputation?” Your eyebrows quirked.

“No,” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “She doesn’t mind you hanging out with me?”

“Why would she?” A frown graced your face.

“Well, I’m... me.” He scrambled for the words.

“Don’t you know anything?” You mocked his curt tone and laughed, making your way up toward the school, leaving him alone under the tree by the lake.

“No, I don’t think I do.” He muttered.

You met him again and finished the book, a soft smile on your face as you got lost in your words, to where he had to remind you to read aloud because you had stopped, reading on in your head.

Sometimes he would watch you when you stopped reading aloud, the way you bit your lip and made expressions at the pages. It was amusing for him, but he eventually had to stop watching and listen again. You always blushed and apologized when he reminded you, trying to find the place that you had crept back into your own thoughts.

“Here,” You offered him the muggle book—the Narnia book one day after Potions.

“This is yours,” He frowned.

“I want you to have it,” You smiled and shrugged. “I’ve got another, and maybe it’s time you learned to read,” The tease was light-hearted on your lips.

“Is that a muggle book?” Pansy came up behind him, sneering at you. “Why would Draco want that?”

He watched the smile fade from your face and the light leave your eyes. Fists clenched, he gritted his teeth and took a sharp breath in.

“Because it’s an amazing book,” Draco spat back at Pansy, taking the book from your hands. “And I asked her if I could have it since no one around here has any taste,”

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Draco, but a small smile played at her lips.

“Glad you figured it out,” She grinned, the walked off.

When Draco turned around, you were gone and he was left there, the book in his hands and no idea as to what just happened. What did Pansy mean that he figured it out? What did he figure out? All he did was defend you.

Looking at the book in his hands, there was a divot in the pages, so he opened the book, finding a pressed dandelion amidst the pages—the first page you read to him about a week ago, and on that page, you had underlined:

“Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he is good.”

He could still hear your voice saying those words.

___________________________________

The third task date arrived sooner than I expected, between exams and avoiding Cedric inadvertently, I rarely saw Draco. I waved at him in the halls and he smiled at me, but we barely got a word in. And I missed him... I kept waiting for the courage to finally go up and ask him if he wanted to read the next Narnia book with me, but he was always surrounded by his posse and I couldn’t find a moment with him alone.

He had defended me once against his friends and the “muggle book” but I didn’t want him to have to again, so I didn’t mention it in front of anyone that Draco enjoyed the books. It was stupid, yes, but I knew it meant something more to him to keep his ‘pureblood’ status.

So, Draco and I sat side by side rather awkwardly in the stands, both straining to see what was going on below. I cheered half-heartedly for Cedric, harboring a slight grudge, and well, Draco didn’t boo, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad. The stands were crowded, and it set me on edge, but Draco was right, it wasn’t so crowded at the top of the Slytherin benches.

We watched earnestly at the games below, trying to see that was going on. When Harry and Cedric both disappeared after touching the trophy, Draco and I stood, both alarmed, but there was something hidden in Draco’s look. He knew what was going on.

“What?” I demanded. “What happened?”

“I... my father mentioned something a long time ago about this...”

“You knew something was going to happen?” I shrieked. “Why didn’t you say anything to anyone!?”

“Because I have no idea what’s going on! What was I supposed to do!?” His eyes met mine frantically. “Please you have to believe me,”

“Draco,” I pressed. “What is going on!? What do you know!?”

“He’s coming back,” The utterance was hopeless. “The Dark Lord,”

My entire world stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think or move. The anger in my chested froze into fear. I had lost my father to the first war. And now the one who killed him was back? Alive?

“Y/n!?” Draco called worried, gripping my arms. “Hey, look at me Y/n,”

I blinked and sank to the benches, beginning to hyperventilate. Draco’s arm was around me, keeping me grounded as his eyes darted around, suspiciously. The Dark Lord coming back? Now? And Draco’s father was a part of it? Was Draco apart of it?

No, he said he didn’t know. And... I trusted him. I had to trust him. If I didn’t there wouldn’t be anything left of me.

I dove into Draco’s arms, tears falling. He went rigid then timidly wrapped his arms around me, petting my hair softly.

“You’re safe Y/n,” He vowed softly. “I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,”

He was blurry through my tears, a petrified look on his face. I nodded at his words, marking them true. I believed in Draco Malfoy. The crowd gasped and I whipped around, my eyes scanning the field, not able to get a good look at anything with the swarm of people in the arena.

“Cedric’s dead,” Draco’s voice was broken as he told me the news. “Y/n, I’m so sorry,”

My voice caught in my throat as tears streamed down my face.

“No, no he... he can’t be, no,” I screamed. “This can’t... no!”

My heart shattered in my chest. Between Voldemort and Cedric’s death there was nothing left of me to break. I was completely unfixable.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I cried, burying my face in his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say that could make this better and he knew that. So instead he held me close letting me ruin his jacket with my saltwater tears.

_____________________________

Regret and pain riddled Draco through as you sobbed in his arms. Didn’t he vow to protect you from this? To save your sunshine? He thought that he was doing that by keeping you close at the third task so that he could protect you from whatever happened...

But how was he supposed to protect you from the emotional devastation that tore through you? He barely knew how to talk to anyone without insulting them or ordering them around, let alone give comfort or physical affection.

“Come on, let’s get you to Pomfrey,” He ushered softly.

He knew that Pomfrey would have something to help you, but you shook your head defiantly. He wanted to roll his eyes at your stubbornness but refrained.

“I will carry you Y/n, you need something now before you throw up or pass out. Please,”

It was the please that caught him off guard. He never said please. To anyone. Ever.

So, you gave in and nodded letting him practically drag you to the med bay—thinking the entire time it would have been less effort to carry you—where Pomfrey ushered you to a bed and gave him four vials, three for you and one for him.

“I don’t need anything,” He insisted. “I’m just here for her,”

“You’ll want it. It’s for a dreamless sleep, you both look like you need it,” Pomfrey raised an eyebrow.

He couldn’t argue with that.

__________________________________

Draco sat beside me as I curled up in the bed, clutching a pillow for dear life.

“Drink,” He ordered, his blue eyes holding no room for argument, handing me the first vial.

I complied, the liquid smooth as glass as it slipped down my throat. My nausea passed and I could breathe normally again. Closing my eyes, I took a few cleansing breaths and found him studying me as he held out the second one.

“I’m fine,” I rasped.

“Drink it Y/n,” his voice was firm and commanding.

So begrudgingly I drank the vial, this time the liquid sat heavy in my mouth and had the texture of pudding. But the numbness from my chest faded and I could think clearly as my mind started to compartmentalize what had just happened each event and thought getting its own box.

Draco.

Cedric.

Voldemort.

My father.

Draco’s father.

Regret.

Guilt.

Fear.

Wordlessly he handed me the third vial that was identical to his own and we both downed them. I barely tasted this one but soon my eyes became too heavy to open again. The last thing I remembered was Draco joining me in the bed, pulling me into his arms and cradling me close.

_______________________________

“It’s against school rules!” I heard the hiss through the fog of sleep.

“Come on, you have to admit they’re precious,” That voice was familiar.

“Will you two shove off?” And there was Draco’s annoyed groggy voice.

I peeked an eye open and saw that Abby and Pansy were standing at the foot of the bed. Then I noticed that I still wasn’t alone in the bed either. I was encased in Draco’s arms, my head tucked into his shoulder. A deep blush crept up my face as I tried to hide further in his arms.

“Pomfrey just let us in,” Abby complained. “You can at least say hi and that you’re alright,”

“She has a point.” Pansy muttered. “Been worried all night. What were you thinking Draco!? Disappearing like that!”

“Yeah Y/n! Why didn’t you tell me where you were going!?” Abby demanded. “Cedric is... and then I couldn’t find you!”

I sat up, Draco sitting up with me in light that if he didn’t, we’d both fall off the bed.

“I’m sorry, Abby,” I croaked, my mouth dry. “I... and then... and I’m sorry,” Tears pricked my eyes as Draco rubbed my arm comfortingly.

“She and I were there when it happened.” Draco explained coolly. “She... Madam Pomfrey was able to help calm her down then she gave us both sleeping potions to make it through the night.”

“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey was the one who calmed her down,” Pansy drawled, and Abby grinned.

“Lay off you two,” Draco threatened again. “We’ll be back soon. No need to worry.” The commanding tone colored his voice again as the two left, grinning and whispering to themselves.

“Well... that was odd,” I decided. “Pansy and Abby?” I mused.

Draco chuckled and pulled me into a tight embrace, before slipping out of the bed, letting me go and stretching.

“If we ever do that again we need a bigger bed,” He complained, trying to right his mussed hair.

“Again?” I teased, running a hand through mine.

“That not— wait, forget I—”

He stopped trying to make it worse when I started to laugh and got up as well, making the bed halfheartedly.

“Thank you for staying last night,” I whispered softly, “And for being there...”

“It was the least I could do,” There was a hint of self-loathing in his tone.

“Hey,” I interjected. “That wasn’t your fault... what happened. You didn’t do it.”

“But I could have stopped it,” He insisted pacing away.

“No, Draco,” I chided, grabbing his hand. “This is bigger than the both of us and you know it,”

His icy blue eyes bore into mine, but I wasn’t backing down. He did, though. Sighing, he looked down.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

“Like I want to run away to Narnia,” I offered weakly; he laughed hopelessly, and I joined in as he drew me into his arms again.

“I meant it Y/n. I will keep you safe.” He murmured softly. “No matter what it takes.”

The guilt and pain that sat heavy in my chest was lifted by his words and a glimmer of hope flickered in my heart.

It was a blur, the week that passed. Black colored every Hufflepuff’s wardrobe as well as the rest of the Hogwarts students. Few smiles could be found among us as we tried to hold our heads high. Tears were shed and more hug were given, more apologies made, and more time was spent with another.

Draco was always keen on finding me in the halls, asking me how I was, wondering if I needed anything. Pansy snapped at other Slytherins who made fun of me or Draco or any Hufflepuff who was on the verge of tears. It was an odd week, but I made it through. We all did.

At the end of year feast, solemn silence fell over the entire hall as Dumbledore spoke. My eyes met Harry’s from across the room, then Draco’s before dropping to the table before me.

“The end,” said Dumbledore rising to speak to us all, “of another year.” He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. “There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,” said Dumbledore, “but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,” he gestured toward the us, “enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.”

The name was like a dagger in my heart as tears streamed down my face, standing, goblet in hand as his names left my lips one last time. The entire hall stood with us, all raising their glasses to Cedric. I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back the urge to sob again as everyone sat.

“Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house,” Dumbledore continued. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.”

My eye widened as I looked to Draco, who was just as shocked as I was. There was nothing more I wanted than to stand beside him in this moment. I needed to know that it would be alright, and that Draco still had my back at the words that Dumbledore was about to speak:

“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”

As panic swept through the hall, I felt sick to my stomach as Abby’s hand rubbed my back softly, my head buried in my arms on the table as I tuned out Dumbledore’s speech.

Abby’s hand fell after a while and there was a commotion beside me that I was too miserable to notice or look up at. Another hand started to gently rub my back, and I peeked up, finding Draco beside me, his gaze fixed upon Dumbledore, no emotion shown on his face.

Sitting up, and putting on a front like Draco, I held my head high and listened as Dumbledore continued.

“Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort,” said Dumbledore. “He risked his own life to return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him.” Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more.

Again, everyone stood, even Draco, and raised his glass to his sworn enemy, before sitting back down beside me. The gesture meant the world to me.

“The Triwizard Tournament’s aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort’s return — such ties are more important than ever before.”

At his words, my eyes flickered over to Draco then to my friends and classmates who were gawking at the Slytherin sitting at their table, some in awe, some afraid, some impressed. My eyes met Harry’s from across the way, and a look of bafflement was expressed through his features. And I understood...

A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff.

Epilogue:

“Will you come visit me over the summer?” Draco asked softly at the train landing.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Draco,” I murmured back, not meeting his eyes. “Your parents won’t be too happy about a Hufflepuff showing up on their doorstep, will they?” A small smile made its way to my face, but there was a depressing truth behind it.

“Come anyway,” His hand came up and tilted my chin back so that I would look at him. “I meant what I said Y/n. I will protect you, even if it means from my parents,”

“I can’t ask that Dray,” I shook my head. “They’re your parents,” I insisted.

“And they’re going to have to live with the choices I make, and right now, that’s having you over for the summer,” Arrogance colored his tone as he got defiant and a smile played at my lips.

“Who’s loyal now?” I baited. “And if you really want me there, I’ll come.”

Chapter 2

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti@ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander@bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald@chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@littlethingsinmymindla @xtrashmouthxtozierx@cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck

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ozzy-bozzy · 3 years

Note

hi ozzy! i havent requested in a bit bc i felt like i was spamming u with requests ugh 😫 but i have YET anotha one for you. can i request just a lil something with Joe who doesn’t understand why his s/o is frustrated (just for whatever reason) even though he’s tried. and they just get so worked up that they give up and totally breakdown? and how he would react? signing off AGAIN AHH YAY - 🪨

sorry for this being so late!! I hope you enjoy :]

Kojiro was pretty good at reading your emotions and knew how you were feeling most of the time. He knew when to give you space, he knew when to initiate physical contact, and he knew when to get you a tissue box and a water bottle. But recently, Kojiro has been having an unusual amount of trouble figuring out how you’re feeling. He doesn’t know if it’s because there’s something different with you or him, but he’s determined to figure it out because he’s sure there's some way he can help you.

You walked into the restaurant one night, exhausted. You dropped your bag on the floor near your feet and sat at the counter in front of Kojiro, who was drying dishes. He had a sweet smile, one filled with love which spread on his face when he saw you walk through the door. He walked around the corner, taking his white apron off and sittin next to you when you slumped your head in your arms against the smooth countertop. You could feel Kojiro’s large hand rubbing your shoulder soothingly,

“Aw, darling. What’s got you down? Are you tired? Maybe you saw a stray cat on your way here or maybe you’re even hungry?” You just shook your head a bit in response,

“Hm… okay.. Maybe you just missed me? Y’know I’m right here for the taking, I’ll be right here the whole night for you to ravish-” He saw your shoulder shake a bit, and he felt relieved that you were laughing. Maybe nothing was really too upsetting after all. He slowly started to laugh a bit with you.

Your head shot up, tears streaming down your face, and you could feel hiccups starting. You turned to look at him and you could see how startled he was,

“I am so,,,frustrated! Exhausted, pent up, tired, upset, everything! Kojiro I can’t do this anymore!” You left your seat at the counter to stand in the empty space before him, hands waving through the air only to slot them against your head, threading your fingers through your hair,

“Okay now sweetness take a deep breath and calm down and we can work through this together-”

‘No, I’m sick of just letting everything go, I want to be able to feel and process through this, I can’t just ignore my frustrations Kojiro” you could see him go through his thought process, thinking through different approaches to the situation since everything else he’s tried has failed.

He stood, slowly pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back, feeling you start to shake more and your tears staining his shirt,

“You don’t have to stop feeling what you’re feeling, but you can’t just make no progress with working through your emotions. I’m here to help you work through that because I want to see you at your best and it breaks my heart to see you like this'' You didn’t respond, and he didn't expect you to. He sat the two of you down on the floor and leaned back against the foot of the counter island, rocking the two of you as you continued to cry out your frustrations.

#kojiro nanjo #kojiro x reader #kojiro nanjo x reader #joe x reader #joe sk8 #kojiro nanjo sk8 #kojiro sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 #anon

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witcher-trash · 3 years

Text

Weekly Witcher Fic Recs 3

(I have a lot this week haha) All Your Life (lambert-centric, angst, complete, mature, 1k) Lambert is a parrot. Lambert is a parrot and it’s eating him alive. Lambert is a parrot and there is nothing he can do about it.

Cat in the bag (aiden/coën/lambert, complete, mature, 15k) Aiden gives a cheeky little grin. “I’ll write down the recipe for you once we’ve survived this entire mess.” “If we survive.” Lambert sighs as he shrugs his shirt back on. Their plan does have a reasonable chance of success, true, but the risk is still substantial and a lot of it depends on factors he can’t really control. “We will.” Coën radiates the same optimism and calmness that he displays in the face of almost every adverse situation, something that Lambert has come to rely on more than he sometimes likes to admit. “Well, let’s see it this way – if it goes wrong there is a good chance that all of us will be dead, so not much to worry over, no?” Aiden adds cheerfully. * Coën and Lambert take a contract to protect a king from assassination. A straightforward contract, really - until it turns out that one of the supposed assassins, a Cat School witcher, has decided to go rogue. Now, the three of them have to figure out whether they can trust each other and how to keep both themselves and the king from getting killed.

Crimes Against Gwent (lambert&geralt, complete, teen and up, 2k) Lambert leaps from his chair at the dining table so forcefully that it topples backwards with a loud clatter, and quickly rounds the table to tackle Geralt, bowling him over without any regard to their surroundings. Geralt’s chair tips back with the both of them in it, creaking and then slamming to the wooden floor. The two of them tumble backwards, rolling onto the plush rug in the living room as they grapple with each other. Geralt has the audacity to laugh, full-bellied and genuinely happy, and it makes Lambert squawk indignantly. The older witcher shoots Lambert a grin and Lambert lunges again. or, Geralt “cheats” at gwent.

Following the Thread (aiden/lambert, wip, 25k, explicit) Lambert thinks Aiden is dead, and killing Jad Karadin is just the final step in that journey. That is, until the truth comes running him down. Aiden is very much alive, he's just missing, and Lambert will do anything to find him and to set things right. If they happen to fall in love along the way, no one is complaining.

Hug a Witcher Day (geraskier, complete, teen and up, 14k) Jaskier writes a new song ‘Hug a Witcher Day.’ It gains insane popularity and Geralt finds himself hugged by random strangers on one particular day every year. He doesn’t mind the hugs. And yet, He realizes that Jaskier has never hugged him. Not on that day, not ever. Oh, but Jaskier looks like he gives great hugs. What can a witcher do to get one from his bard?

Leave You Behind (eskel/lambert, complete, explicit, 2k) “I won’t leave you behind, i promise.” He sounded so sincere. Lambert took a deep breath and nodded, steeling himself for Eskel’s inevitable departure. He’d take the lands to the south this year while Lambert headed west. Neither were sure what Geralt would be doing - perhaps he’d be too distracted by destiny to make much of a dent in outstanding contracts at all. ++ It’d taken decades for the two of them to finally get together. And now that Lambert finally had him, he wasn’t sure he could let go

Living Like This (geraskier, teen and up, wip, 9k) Based off of the ‘Robber: *wakes me gently* ‘You live like this?’’ meme. Geralt is a single father, jobless and down on his luck. One night, a masked man breaks in to his apartment meaning to steal from him only to find that there is nothing there to take…

Love is an Ongoing Process – series (geraskier, mature, wip, 40k) Netflix Canon-related Geraskier falling in love over the years series. It has all the following tropes: Bed Sharing, Geralt Apologizes, Geraskier Slow Burn, Witchers Senses and Pining. Divided in one-shots in a series instead of chapters in a single fic in an attempt to prevent myself from writing too much.

my dearest love, i'm not done yet (jaskier/yennefer, complete, mature, 5k) It's a funny thing, really. A last memory. As if every memory before that counts for nothing, as if that last one will define a love of a life. As if she would love him less if she saw him in agony. As if her heart wasn't already given away and thrown aside with the most violent way. As if the sound of the bottle shattering on the floor wouldn't wail in her ears forever. or A death for a life, a potion and four days. Yennefer wishes it was that simple.

number one wiener eater (aiden/lambert, complete, 8k, explicit) When Lambert loses the hot dog eating contest that he’s won for the past three years in a row, there’s nothing he would love more than to find who beat him and punch them in the face. Unfortunately, he was too busy throwing up to know who the winner was. All he knows is that he’s kind of maybe in love with the guy who held his hair while he puked.

Sometimes I Can See the Wounds (geralt/eskel, complete, teen and up, complete, 3k) Eskel is wounded in a hunt, and no one in the three towns he passes on his way back to Kaer Morhen will give him aid. He arrives at the keep in bad shape. Geralt has a bit of a breakdown about it. This is very soft with a soft ending.

The Alchemist. (aiden/lambert, complete, teen and up, 3k) "This person is known only as ‘the Alchemist’ and neither I, nor any of my associates, have been able to gather any more information on him. I require someone to locate this person and… dispose of the problem.” In which, Lambert is offered a contract and finds what he thought he'd lost forever. Written for the Save A Witcher Bingo! The prompt was secret identity.

There Must be More to Life. But What? And Why? (iorveth/roche, mature wip, 2k) The universe is bound and determined to make Vernon Roche enjoy retirement, even if it means forcing his hand in the matter.

Three Bells, Each With a Separate Sound (aiden/lambert/voltehre, complete, explicit, 30k) In a dank cave in the Blue Mountains, a stripling just barely past the cusp of manhood looks up at a cyclops looming over him and raises his arm in a futile effort to ward off the massive hand as it swings towards him. On the banks of a river, hundreds of miles and precisely five decades later, to the day and the hour and the ticking second, a man raises his hand to deflect the arrow hissing towards him and knows he’s going to be too slow. Both of them have the exact same thought as their deaths approach: Lambert is never going to forgive me.

Tired Of Chasing Ghosts - series (arnaghad/erland of larvik, guxart/keldar/vesemir, wip, explicit, 18k) "A feast," Erland replies. "A revel." Any and every joyful memory from Skellige he harbours involves some kind of celebrational drinking. If it could tie together wind-whittled seamen and -women that mistake insults for proclamations of affection, it can tie together this young collection of witchers. "A revel... with dancing?" Arnaghad sounds pensive, but underneath that, Erland can hear the first inklings of ideas sprouting to life. "Yes." "Alzur-" "Doesn't give a shit," Erland cuts in. "And neither does Cosimo." Only then does he step back to give Arnaghad the space to ponder. "Think about it. Find me after dinner in the stables." In which: Erland wants to make a home out of Morgraig and Arnaghad makes an exception. A song you know's begun - series (geraskier, wip, 200k+, mature) Jaskier wasn't exactly sure what he had expected Kaer Morhen to be like but the keep was everything and nothing like it. The place was a dichotomy. Magnificent and sad in equal measures in its derelict state. Silent but full of noise. Cold yet filled with warmth. But most importantly, it was Geralt's home. Seeing him so relaxed, the sharpest edges rounded down with the knowledge of being safe and surrounded by his family was a beautiful sight to behold. Jaskier wished he too would relearn what safety felt like.

#the witcher #geraskier #lamden #iorveth/roche #geralt/eskel #fic recs

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 21

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Hi,” she greets him as he walks in the door, “I have something for you.”

She’s perched in the armchair, a smile that’s coy and playful curling the corners of her mouth. He gives her a curious smirk as he slips off his shoes and overcoat.

“Okay, like a gift?” he asks, crossing the room to plant a kiss on her lips, stealing another to enjoy the warm feeling of her mouth against his, which is chilled from the wintery air outside.

She shakes her head as he goes into the bedroom, changing into sweats and a T-shirt.

“You’re going to have to find it,” she calls from the other room, and he smiles to himself.

This is his favorite version of her; playful and flirtatious, quick to smile and laugh. He loves all aspects of her personality, but the rarity of this one makes it feel special. She almost never acts this way in front of anyone else, even her family; it feels like it’s just for him. He moves to stand at the threshold of the living room, leaning against the wall.

“Are you going to give me a hint?” he asks, and she considers the question with a thinking man pose.

“Well, I will tell you that right now you are very, very, cold,” she finally says.

His eyebrows lift in understanding and he walks back into the bedroom.

“Colder!” she calls, and he moves to the kitchen.

“Still cold.”

He walks to her desk.

“Mmm, slightly warmer.”

Next he steps close to the fireplace.

“A little warmer.”

He turns to look at her and narrows his eyes. He takes a step towards her.

“Oh, warmer.”

He stands directly in front of her chair.

“Getting hot,” she says with a playful lilt to her voice.

He drops to his knees between her legs.

“Very, very hot.”

He slips his fingers into the waistband of her pants.

“On fire,” She says with a smile.

He moves to pull her pants down and the tips of his fingers meet with something foreign near the top of her thigh. He quirks his head quizzically, fitting his whole hand into her pant leg and pulling out two long strips of cardstock. Airline tickets.

“How do you feel about a California Christmas?” she asks hopefully, and he looks at the tickets to see that the destination is San Diego, December 22nd.

He knew that she and her mother had been talking about flying out to see Bill for the holiday, but he’d assumed that he’d be left at home.

“What about Priscilla?” he asks, both touched that she wants to include him in her family’s celebration and nervous about meeting her older brother, who he understands will hate him by default.

“We can ask the Gunmen to look after her,” she offers. “Unless you don’t want to come with me?”

He can tell by her tone that it’s not meant to be a way for him to opt out, but a test of his willingness to go. She clearly wants him to.

“Of course I want to go with you,” he replies, moving close and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I will admit to being a little worried about meeting your brother, and in his home, on his turf.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry too much about Bill. Missy and Charlie are going, and Mom of course, and they love you. I know Tara will too. So even if he does pull the big brother card and give you a hard time, we have strength in numbers.”

“Is Byers going?” he asks hopefully, and she shakes her head. “Missy only just barely told Mom about him. It’s too soon for them.”

“But not for us?” he asks with the smile he reserves for the times when she alludes to the seriousness of their commitment.

She shakes her head slowly. “Not for us,” she says.

———

“Oh my god, I’m going to lose my mind, Mulder.”

She’s pacing around the apartment, putting things into different piles and open suitcases, her level of stress palpable in the air.

“Honey, stop for a second,” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders and dipping his head to meet her eye. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs, waiting as she does so. “We don’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours,” he says, keeping his own tone calm and level to counter hers, “we have plenty of time to pack.”

“It’s not just the packing, Mulder, this entire week was a nightmare. Everything I was hoping to accomplish before this trip was waylaid in one way or another; I missed my doctor’s appointment because of an emergency autopsy and forgot to reschedule it before they closed on Friday, Trudy was out sick half the week so I had to absorb her workload, the dry cleaners lost the dress I was going to bring for Christmas Eve mass, Priscilla is out of food AND litter, and I can’t find my earplugs for the plane,” she rattles off.

He pulls her into a hug, feeling her relax a bit with the contact.

“I will go pick up cat food, litter and earplugs,” he says, pulling away to look at her again, “and I’ll remind you to call the doctor tomorrow and reschedule. Wear that blue dress with the little flowers on it to mass, it looks beautiful on you. And try to breathe,” he finishes, giving her a sympathetic smile.

She forces a small smile onto her mouth and takes another deep breath. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

He pours her a big glass of wine before bundling himself up against the cold and venturing out into the December night.

———

She glances at Mulder intermittently, watching for signs of overwhelm. She knows that coming from a small, dysfunctional family means that he’s not accustomed to the type of gathering they are currently entrenched in; the entire Scully clan plus Tara’s parents and brother, and several members of their church. He seems to be faring okay, sipping a beer while talking sports with Charlie and a few others.

As nervous as he’d been about meeting Bill, he was well prepared. Scully directed him to speak highly of the Chargers while eviscerating the Patriots, and to go easy on the PDA. While they aren’t exactly best friends, Bill doesn’t seem to actively dislike him, and they are calling that a win.

She’d fully expected them to be set up in separate rooms given Bill’s traditional family values, but the number of people who needed to be housed made that impractical. They ended up relegated to the guest room and a single twin bed, though the enormous stack of pillows and blankets arranged on it suggest that one of them is expected to make a bed on the floor. They don’t do that, of course, instead sleeping nested together like spoons, Mulder continuously making half-hearted attempts at getting frisky while she laughs and slaps his hand away.

They are dressed for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, Scully in her flowered blue dress and Mulder in one of his typical weekday suits. They sit in the pew between Mom and Charlie, hands clasped chastely on the bench between them, suppressing giggles as he leans over to warn her that he is at risk of bursting into flame. He traces patterns on her palm with his index finger and she realizes at some point that they are letters. She concentrates, trying to understand his message, expecting it to be ‘I love you’ or something similarly sweet. When she puts together that he is spelling out ‘sex tonight?’ she looks over at him with wide eyes and then purses her lips together tightly to keep from laughing, doing her best to glare at him.

They file sleepily through the door at nearly 2am, quietly going off into their respective bedrooms and pull-out couches, hoping to get some rest before Christmas festivities in the morning. Scully quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face before darting to the bedroom, wriggling under the covers and pressing her back against Mulder, her cold toes brushing against his shins.

“Hm, you’re cold,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Thanks for going to mass,” she whispers back, “it meant a lot to my mom to have all of us there.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he answers, his breath hot on her neck, “it’s nice to feel like a part of a real family.”

She threads her fingers through his where they rest on her belly, squeezing his hand. She tries to go to sleep, but his chest rising and falling against her back and the heat of his groin tucked against her backside are distracting. She wiggles a little bit against him.

“Hmmm,” he responds, thrusting his hips against her gently.

She swore that she was not going to have sex at her brother’s house. She knows that they can go without for the week they are here. But as she feels him grow hard against her ass, the throbbing between her legs suggests otherwise. No doubt it’s exacerbated by the forbidden nature of the situation; the door doesn’t have a lock and the house is quiet and still, though packed with enough ears that the risk of being heard is high. When his lips press against the back of her neck, she knows she’s done for.

She reaches behind herself to slip her hand into his pajama pants, stroking him firmly as he breathes hard into her ear, suppressing the groan that she knows would normally result from her touch. He pushes his pants down to his knees with one hand, then hurriedly brings hers down as well. She emits a small gasp when he slips inside her, simultaneously pushing his hand under her pajama top to squeeze her breast.

“Jesus fuck, you’re wet,” he whispers harshly in her ear, and she wants to make a joke about not taking the lord’s name in vain on his birthday but when he starts pumping in and out deliciously slowly, the thought slips from her mind.

If he moves too quickly the bed squeaks, so he keeps a languid pace as he pinches her nipples and kisses her neck, then slides his hand down to play with her clit in the tight space between her legs, which are still pinned together by the pajama pants around her knees. It feels incredible, and yet the necessary slowness and need to stay quiet make her wonder if she will be able to come. As if intuiting this, Mulder withdraws momentarily, sitting up and freeing her top leg from her pants, then lies back down and hitches her ankle behind his knee; her favorite position. He pulls the blanket back over them for warmth and modesty, though if anyone were to walk in now they’d have no chance of plausible deniability. With more room to move, he resumes his slow strokes and pairs them with hard and fast circles around her clit, murmuring little affirmations into her ear so softly she can barely hear them, much less anyone else. The vibration of his voice, the slip of his cock, the rough brush of his fingers, all come together in crescendo as she stiffens in his arms, turning to muffle her cries against his mouth as she comes. Now able to focus on his own release, he continues to pump slowly, pressing his face into her neck and letting out a low growl as she feels him throbbing inside her.

He slips quietly out of the bed, retrieving one of his dirty T shirts and swiping it between her legs before he pulls her pajama pants back into place. They get comfortable again, the sexual tension that had prevented them from relaxing before now dissipated.

He kisses her cheek softly, murmuring “Merry Christmas, Scully,” into her ear just before she drifts off to sleep.

In the morning, they sit around the lit tree, drinking coffee and eating pastries as they shake off sleep.

“Is your house haunted, Bill?” Charlie asks, and Bill gives him a doubtful look. “I swear I heard some weird noises, like creaking and whispering, I felt like I was in a horror movie,” Charlie defends.

Scully hides her face behind her coffee cup, glancing over to see Missy giving her a pointed look.

“I’m sure it was just the Christmas spirit,” Maggie says jovially. “Who wants to open presents?!”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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galahadwilder · 4 years

Text

Say It Later, Say It Now

I wrote this fic for the @luckycharmzine!

Marinette and Adrien are dating and happy. Marinette finds out Adrien is Chat Noir. Adrien finds out Marinette is Ladybug.

You’d think this would make things simpler. You’d be wrong.

Marinette falls back on her bed with a huff, arms splayed wide, and stares up through her skylight into the cloudless Paris sky. She takes a moment to imagine her comforter is a pink, fluffy cloud, that she’s lying in the sky somewhere drifting on the breeze, that her world hasn’t been turned upside down again and that the only thing she has to worry about is the sun on her face and the ground a thousand miles below.

Then she breathes in, remembers how his face looked into that same skylight just two nights before, and the moment is lost.

“He’s Chat Noir,” she murmurs to herself, throwing her arm over her eyes. “My boyfriend is Chat Noir.”

In retrospect, it makes perfect sense. Both boys have the same kind heart, the same terrible sense of humor, the same smile, the same sadness behind their eyes. Despite their superficial differences, deep down they are clearly the same. But if she hadn’t seen him destransform, she never would have guessed that polite, well-behaved Adrien was the same person as her boisterous and jovial partner.

She has no idea what emotion she’s feeling right now—is she happy? Scared? Angry? No way to tell—but it’s definitely intense. She feels her nails digging into her palm, her tendons pressing against the skin of her knuckles, and forces herself to take a deep breath, loosen her muscles.

Tikki peers down from her unhappy cookie-munching in her little nook above Marinette’s bed, alcove hidden from anyone entering from both below and above. “Marinette?” she says. “Are you… all right?”

Marinette turns onto her side, curls up into a fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest. “I… Tikki, I—I have no idea,” she murmurs, staring at a thread that’s poking out of her handmade pillowcase. She’s gonna have to fix that soon. “I mean, both guys I’m into being the same guy? And him falling for both of me?” She groans. “I know I’m Ladybug, but that’s stupid lucky.” She closes her eyes, chews on her lip. “It’s… too much.”

Marinette feels Tikki light on the pillow in front of her, and opens her eyes to see her Kwami hugging her nose with a bashful grin. “Stupid lucky is what I do,” Tikki says.

Marinette smiles, nuzzling into Tikki’s tummy. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah it is.”

Tikki’s pats Marinette’s forehead with her paw. “Do you need me to turn off the lights?” she says.

Marinette nods.

There’s a moment of silence as Tikki flits off toward the door, and then the lights click off, bathing Marinette in blessed darkness. Immediately, her senses begin to calm, and her thoughts arrange.

Then she realizes something.

“Oh, no,” she breathes, rolling onto her back. “Tikki?” she says, her voice small.

Tikki flits into view over her, looking down at her with concern. “Marinette?”

Marinette stares up at her Kwami, her heart thrumming with fear. “He doesn’t know I’m Ladybug,” she says.

Tikki shakes her head. “No,” she says. ��He doesn’t.”

Marinette winces. “I’m going to have to tell him.”

“Oh, cats. Oh, cats. Oh, CATS,” Adrien says, pacing a trench into the floor of his room. “I’m… I’m dating Ladybug.” He grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes. “How did I not see it?”

Plagg snorts into his Camembert. “Took you long enough.”

Adrien drops into his computer chair, presses his hand to his forehead and runs his fingers up and back through his shaggy hair. “Cats,” he hisses. He should’ve seen it. Ladybug and Marinette don’t just have the same fire, the same brilliant mind—every part of them is the same, right down to the way they scrunch their noses when they’re thinking. And yet, if he hadn’t seen her detransform… “What am I—” He chokes. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Plagg smirks without taking his eyes from his cheese. “Come on, Kitten,” he drawls. “You’ve been planning how to date Ladybug as long as I’ve known you. You talked my ear off every night for three years until I convinced you to go for Bakery Girl instead.”

Adrien chokes, wheels around toward his Kwami. “And you knew the whole time!” he yelps, jabbing a finger at the tiny cat. “You knew they were the same person!”

Plagg raises an eyebrow, tilting his head contemplatively. “Yes I did,” he says with a sly smile. “Gotta say, watching you moon over her twice was better than those KDramas Tikki loves so much.”

Adrien blinks, swiveling in his chair. “Is that where you go at night?”

Plagg shrugs. “Some nights, yeah.” He nibbles on his Camembert, before looking up at his wielder. “So,” he says, “how are you planning to tell her?”

Adrien stumbles backward and collapses into his computer chair. “Oh, cats,” he breathes, staring blankly at his computer screen. “I have to tell her.”

Marinette arrives early for school the next day. She’s rarely awake this early, but knowing what she needed to do had left her too jittery to sleep. She’s too nervous to sit, but too tired to pace, so she stands in place, her bag held over her knees, waiting for her boyfriend to arrive.

“You okay?” Tikki whispers from inside the backpack held between Marinette’s hands.

“Nope!” Marinette whispers back with a grin that she’s fairly certain doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s excited—her boyfriend is secretly also the boy she trusts more than anything else in the world. But on the other hand, she’s been hiding a huge part of her life from him for as long as she’s known him, and she has no idea if he’ll ever forgive her.

So she stands, waiting for her soulmate, her other half, the boy she loves, to arrive so she can spill his secret.

She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t even notice when he does. Adrien folds her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Morning—”

She shrieks, leaping backward, almost slamming her skull into his chin.

“—Myyyyy… rinette!” he says.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” Marinette yelps, trying to turn in his arms to comfort him.

He only laughs, holding her tight against his chest. “It’s fine!” he says brightly, kissing her head again. He presses his cheek to her scalp and nuzzles. “I knew the consequences when I snuck up on you.”

“You do love to do that,” she murmurs fondly. Just another bit of the cat in him that she should’ve seen. Then her eyes widen. “Hey,” Marinette says. “You didn’t call me Princess.”

Adrien’s arms stiffen around her. “Um,” he says, a tremble in his voice.

She bites her lip, forcing down a spike of annoyance at his father—she recognizes Gabriel’s hand in that tremble. She puts her backpack down on the steps and takes his hand. “It’s okay, Adrien” she says, soft. “You’re allowed to give me more than one pet name.”

He breathes out, relieved, all the tension gone from his body, and she realizes—she can’t tell him right now. Maybe later.

Yeah. Later’s good.

He’d almost called her “My Lady.” Oh, cats, that was not how he wanted her to find out.

He’s glad she sits behind him, because while he definitely can’t concentrate in class today, if she were in front of him—especially after that—he doesn’t think he’d be able to even pretend to be paying attention.

She seems clumsier than usual today. A lot of her more extreme pratfalls disappeared by around their third date, once he made it clear that he didn’t mind her word vomit and in fact found it kind of cute. But today, every time she meets his eyes, it seems like she’s halfway to the floor again, and he’s barely on his toes enough to catch her.

He can’t help feeling a little thrill, though, that he’s having this effect on Ladybug. One-year-ago-Adrien would be having a heart attack right now. As it is, everything’s a little too soft and warm with her for that.

“Adrien, I’m fine,” his Princess—his Lady—protests, burying her face in her hands.

“Not today you’re not,” he say with a smile and the Soft Eyes she loves so much. “Besides, I’m not gonna pass up a chance to be gallant.”

Marinette pouts, gesturing downwards to where his arms are holding her up, supporting both her shoulders and her knees. “Sure, but you don’t think carrying me all the way to the lunchroom is a little bit much?”

“Nope!” Adrien says.

He sees Nino and Alya ahead of them, synchronized mock-gagging at them, but he ignores them.

“Ugh, you are the worst,” she says, reaching up to scratch under his chin.

He purrs, smiling—

And then suddenly realizes that she doesn’t know he can do that.

Also, Marinette doesn’t scritch Adrien. Ladybug for Chat, sure, but… she doesn’t know it’s him. And she definitely wouldn’t reveal her identity like that if she did.

He swallows, barely taking a moment to realize that Marinette has gone as white as a sheet.

“Mari?” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Fffffine!” she shrieks, leaping out of his arms—or at least trying to. He’s supporting her too well, and her flats hook onto his elbow, and he barely has time to brace before they’re both sprawled across each other on the ground.

The entire hall comes to a halt, staring at them, as Marinette’s face gets steadily redder. Adrien realizes—his body weight is pressed on top of her, pinning her down, and she’s regressed today for some reason—she’s about to explode. He reaches out toward her—

“I’m sorry!” she shrieks, clapping her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m—are you—oh gosh I’m so sorry—”

It’s an utterly surreal moment, realizing that this girl, who has pitched him across entire city blocks without batting an eye, is having a panic attack over tripping him. It’s all he can do to roll of her, climb to his feet, and hold out a hand.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he says, smiling gently. “I’m fine. You okay?”

Her pupils slowly begin to contract again as her breathing slows and she takes his hand. “I—I’m okay,” she says.

He pulls her up with a smile. “I love you,” he says. “I have to expect you to…” He waggles his eyebrows. “...sweep me off my feet every once in a while.”

She giggles, closing her eyes, and he realizes he can’t tell her now. Later, maybe.

Yeah. Later’s good.

Ladybug arrives for patrol in a bit of a funk. School was excruciating—she hasn’t been that clumsy in front of her boyfriend since the first time they kissed, she spent all day making a fool of herself and she couldn’t once get up the courage to tell him what she knew. She’s almost ashamed to be meeting him now, knowing his secret with him not knowing hers.

But as she lights onto the rooftop, she sees in his hunched posture that he seems not to have had the best day either. Which is… odd. He seemed fine when they left school?

“Everything okay?” she says, padding up behind him and sitting on the roof next to him, kicking her legs out into open air.

He turns to her with wide, sad eyes. “I—um,” he begins. “Girl troubles.”

Ladybug’s heart rate spikes. Girl troubles? He’s Adrien; there’s only one girl in his life. Troubles? Did he—did her clumsiness embarrass him? Did he finally decide she wasn’t good enough?

“Are you breaking up with me?” she whispers, hugging her stomach.

His head snaps around, his eyes wide. “Wait—” he gasps, his face bone-white. “My—Marinette, I’d never—” He bites his lip. “You know?”

Ladybug nods with a whimper. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Suddenly his palms are on her cheeks, his forehead pressed to hers. “I love you, My Lady, My Princess, My—My Marinette,” he breathes in a rush. He smiles. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me.”

Relief floods her body as she realizes—he’s not leaving her. He’s staying. “Your—girl trouble,” she manages. “You found out?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “Saw you yesterday.”

She giggles, tears coming to her eyes. “Same.”

“Cats,” he snorts. “We’re both idiots.”

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot,” she says, scratching his scalp, smiling as he begins to purr. “Always and forever.”

“I can live with that,” he whispers, raising her chin and meeting her lips with his.

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Text

In recognition of 200 followers.....

I composed a list of 200 hero x villain dialogue prompts for you guys to ask me or reblog it and ask your own followers or if you take inspiration.

Thank you so much! It means a whole lot!

1. "I wish I had longer to love you."

2. "Sometimes being the greatest is being the worse."

3. "I will kill you if you die on me."

4. "Bury me... under a willow tree... with tulips and lilies to blossom in the spring and a small stream to keep me company."

5. "Villains aren't capable of love; yet, here I am crying over your grave."

6. "The kitten's name is Max."

7. "I'm going to get a beer."

8. "There is only one way to kill me, but you could never muster the strength to pull through."

9. "I'm dizzy with love for you."

10. "Hero, you are drunk not a toddler."

11. "I pledge to serve you willingly, butthead."

12. "Ride the waves with me." "You are a mermaid, no thanks."

13. "Stay awake for me; it's only a little farther."

14. "I can't carry you!"

15. "He isn't much, but we'll make do."

16. "I WANT TO SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER PLEASE. Please..."

17. "George Washington never told a fib, and I am greater than him, so trust me, Hero, when I say I am telling the truth."

18. "Eggs and butter make dough, knives and guns make death."

19. "You are insane."

20. "The bomb is going off in twenty seconds, Hero. Run now. I-I'm going to stop it."

21. "What is love?"

22. "I don't get the function of hugs."

23. "Mentally I'm good, but physically..."

24. "I only wished for happiness from that genie. I guess it was evil."

25. "Break him, shatter him, destroy him."

26. "Sing with me."

27. "Villain you are touch starved, not dying."

28. "What the heck did you do to your hair." "What? You don't like it?" "It looks like my cat's litterbox."

29. "Don't give me hope."

30. "I am not a disease or a parasite. I am a human. I am one of those millions you swore to protect."

31. "Kiss, marry, kill?" "Kill, kill, kill."

32. "You created me."

33. "Villain don't you dare pass out."

34. "I like the look of blood on you, compliments your eyes."

35. "I kinda dropped Hero through space."

36. "Power exhaustion sucks."

37. "Time to save the world. Yay!" *says in sarcasm*

38. "Let me feed you Hero."

39. "You do not have AC?!"

40. "Villain you have a fever."

41. "Am I drunk?"

42. "Movies. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."

43. "Lemme grab a beer and we are good to go."

44. "Don't. Look. At. Me."

45. "He just had his wisdom teeth out sooo." "How bad can it be? Villain has been shot with twenty tranq darts at one and didn't pass out... immediately anyway, took a good twenty minutes." "Well, you see-" "THE KITTEN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!"

46. "She needs surgery."

47. "It's a panic attack..." "KISS HIM!"

48. "Blood, gore, madness... this was made for me."

49. "Quit drooling on me and sit up."

50. "There's only one bed."

51. "He looks so cute when he sleeps."

52. "Of all the places to live, you had to choose a heavily fortified medieval castle two thousand years in the past?"

53. "You are a peacock Hero."

54. "Let's see who will drown first. You or me. One, two, three... let's go!"

55. "I wasn't always like this."

56. "Madness is for geniuses, not for me."

57. "It's just a sedative that's going to make you nice and docile."

58. "He's out." "Good, let him rest, villainy is hardwork."

59. "I love her, but she doesn't love me."

60. "If I had a choice to save you or me, I'd pick me."

61. "Gag her."

62. "They aren't made for this, give them mercy."

63. "Talk now or she dies."

64. "Broken ribs, broken jaw, broken arm... are you sure you want me to continue." "No." "Then tell me your name."

65. "Get me some thread and a needle. Just don't touch me."

66. "The police are coming."

67. "Tell me where she is. TELL ME WHERE IS SHE OR I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT AND TOSS YOU IN THE SEWER!!!!!"

68. "I love you." "I don't."

69. "Hug me just one last time."

70. "Villain hey hey hey. Calm down. You've been in a pretty bad accident."

71. "They won't be able to walk again."

72. "Tell me... just tell if they made it."

73. "Can't you just poof me another arm?"

74. "If you saved all of them, you can save me."

75. "I'm really tired..."

76. "Sleep. I will stay with you."

77. "She is sixteen years old." "All musicians start young." "This isn't a concert, this is life. Stop ruining it."

78. "He"s been in an accident." "Where?" "Five minutes away from your place."

79. "I wish he wasn't unconscious, so I could talk to him. So I could thank him."

80. "It's been four months now. I have came everyday and, uh, I dunno what to say. Hero, I need you to wake up. I can't function knowing you are right here."

81. "I have a date." "Hmm with who?" "Supervillain." "When and where honey?"

82. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet. We are still being hunted."

83. "Desert?" "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

84. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." "I know, I know dear and I so sorry, but I need you to help me. I need you to help them."

85. "Villain just sleep. Allow the drugs to take you under. Don't fight it, don't resist... just sleep. In the morning, we will be safe."

86. "Being lost in the woods isn't ideal."

87. "An injection of valium will do it."

88. "There's no anesthesia."

89. "Wouldn't it be great if we never met each other?"

90. "Bless you." "I didn't sneeze." "Yeah right. Now go sit down, you're sick."

91. "It's called insomnia you dim-wit."

92. "Join me and we can be great."

93. "You didn't bring me here for the cake." "No, dear, but you are so gullible. I brought you here for a sacrifice." "My life?" "Why yes."

94. "I don't know. I never had someone collapse on my doorstep before."

95. "I have nothing to lose. No family, no friends, just my meaningless life."

96. "That's my daughter, not the villain's... so give me her back before I rip your eyes out."

97. "How long was I out for?!" "Ten minutes, but you were drifting. I don't think you had that good of rest." "Oh, I thought I was asleep for hours."

98. "I know, I know you are going to hate me after this, but trust me when I say it's for the best."

99. "I know everything about you."

100. "I think narcissism is contagious because after watching you for a couple hours, I think I may have developed a little crush on the mirror..."

101. "What did you give me?"

102. "Is she screams, I'm going to scream, and then we are going to die."

103. "No fighting today, my cat just died."

104. "How hard did you punch me?"

105. "Not gonna lie, being delirious was epic."

106. "I am cooking for you. You aren't my servant, so stop thinking it."

107. "My old masters made me into a weapon and called me Villain, but if you desire a lapdog I am going to need to be refurnished to fit your needs."

108. "What is his deal?" "I think he's just crazy."

109. "Love is not what I had in mind when I agreed to go on a date with you."

110. "Hugs are overrated."

111. "Are you too hot or too cold?" "Both."

112. "I wish we could turn back time."

113. "I lost the game." "What do you mean? Hero is dead." "Precisely."

114. "Make a wish." "That you live."

115. "Villain has been acting exceptional! Today we granted them a break from the machine. Go ahead Hero and take him for some ice cream."

116. (Sleepy murmurs) "Don't go. I neeeed you." "Yeah yeah I know Villain."

117. "Villain was the one who hurt me, not Hero."

118. "Supervillain is in danger!"

119. "If everyone is scared of me, I might as well be alone."

120. "My head is killing me."

121. "Don't call an ambulance. Just... hold me."

122. "You don't have to do this. It's going to hurt you more than me." "Anything for you dearest, anything at all."

123. "Hero, go wash your hands before dinner."

124. "You have PTSD?" "I don't know?"

125. "I have soap in my eyes!' "Rinse it out." "Mm no I'm permanently mortally blinded." "Uh huh."

126. "We need to cuddle to keep warm."

127. "Take care of them for me, will you?"

128. "When I'm gone, promise to tell my mother, please."

129. "Drug him and then bring him to me."

130. "Superheroes are for children. In all honesty, we are all villains."

131. "Oh my gosh, Hero, what happened?" "Poisoned."

132. "Wouldn't it be nice?" "I don't fancy prosthetics."

133. "Just shut up and listen!"

134. "There is a memorial parade for Hero tomorrow. They asked you to lead it."

135. "She turned it around... at the end."

136. "I wish that he understood how much I care for him."

137. "Civilian! He fell asleep in my lap last night, like totally zooted. It was so cute, but also very tempting. I stuck a french fry up his nose." "Wow. Did he wake up then?" "Yeah, I am sorta kidnapped right now..."

138. "The book, the sword... all pieces of the puzzle huh." "No, darling, all pieces of my game."

139. "Their death is my fault! Not your's, but mine, so quit trying to make me feel better."

140. "Once upon a time-" "Oh please, not another fairytale."

141. "If only it was that easy."

142. "We are stuck in a maze, how can you be so joyful?"

143. "Celebrate Hero, eat your cake, party into the night... but just know, I will be back."

144. "Call 911!" "Why?" "I stubbed my toe."

145. "Your jawline looks like it was gauzed over in lard." "It looks better than your hay for hair."

146. "You're my best friend." "Villain? Are you on drugs?"

147. "Lay him there and leave him. Let the rats dine on him."

148. "The point of the cow suit?" "Oh, uh, I was at a Halloween parade. You know, for children."

149. "I-i never wanted to hurt you." "I know, I wanted you to, so I allowed it."

150. "Favorite movie?" "Your death." "Ooo never heard of it, let's watch it." "*groans* Oh my gosh, you are stupid."

151. "Being a flutist is my only superpower. And being modest apparently."

152. "Your head will join my collection if yoi don't watch out."

153. "Hey, hey! Wake up, buddy. It's just a nightmare."

154. "Meh head hurts." "Yeah, you hit it pretty hard."

155. "Let's go for a ride." "On that yellow miniature school bus?" "It's a ranger you idiot."

156. "No painkillers, no bandages, perfect environment for infection to settle... I'm just gonna leave you here Villain."

157. "I save you and this is how you repay me? A prison?"

158. "What are you doing?" "Climbing a tree? No Hero, I am breaking into your house to kidnap you."

159. "I formally apologize."

160. "Of all places, Hero, you had to teleport us to a desert. A DESERT."

161. "Supervillain won't stop unless we team up." "I don't think our alliance will stop them, I think it'll just make them angrier."

162. "Stop singing or I will blow this place until even the last atom is broken into itty-bitty molecules!" "That... that is scientifically impossible."

163. "I'm a genius! Yippee!"

164. "Life isn't perfect and nor is your morals."

165. "Control yourself before you kill everyone around you."

166. "Say your goodbyes."

167. "Of all the ways I've died, drowning was by far the nicest."

168. "Love the collar. Is it for fashion purposes?" "Uh, um, uh, er, no?"

169. "You look lonely. Want some hot coco?"

170. "It is negative million out there and you expect me to come in toasty warm after fixing your power?"

171. "Are you sick?" "Yeh." "Come on in then."

172. "Civilian, don't even bother trying to save him."

173. "We have a breach!"

174. "What makes a villain's life less important than your's?"

175. "Enjoy your soup." "You poisoned it." "And you're delusional, eat up."

176. "I hate 99% of the population." "According to a meme I found, you are therefore a cat."

177. "Don't overuse your powers."

178. "This is just an unfortunate event."

179. "You look so cute when you are sleepy and barely conscious."

180. "His fever is rising."

181. "Save her, leave me. I'll-i'll get out of this somehow."

182. "Sometimes self-sacrifice isn't noble, it's selfish."

183. "You are so funny that I need my inhaler to kill you with." "That sentence was so discombobulated that I am leaving."

184. "Just for your information, I hate oranges but love grapes."

185. "Walking down the stairs shouldn't be a momental effort." "You broke both your legs."

186. "You just destroyed my life's work, don't expect me to give you a huge bear hug."

187. "Is it true that you have telekinesis?" "Yes, why?" "Go steal me a donut."

188. "You are so incredibly touch starved, Villain." "Mmm." "Tired? Go ahead and sleep, I'm here."

189. "This is for your own good, I promise."

190. "I'm cold."

191. "I don't want to move and you can't make me."

192. "I AM RETIRED! YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE TO SEND ME PAMPHLETS OF THE HOTTEST HERO OF THE YEAR!"

193. "He's unconscious." "That tired, huh." "No, he passed out from blood loss."

194. "I want a kitten."

195. "I'm no scared of you, so stop acting like I am."

196. "He isn't dangerous, just scared."

197. "They won't be going anywhere for a long, long time."

198. "Hero? Hero? Oh my goodness, please wake up."

199. "Life is too short for pleasures."

200. "I hope you are happy, in the end."

#heros and villains #ask game #200 followers #thank you so much

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

Text

@miraculous-bullshit ask and you shall receive! :D (sorry I tagged you again!) Note: reposted to not clog poor @toujoursmiraculous post :D

Interruptions

based on this thread

For what it’s worth, it took a lot to upset Luka Couffaine. He prided himself in that. He was never one to make a big deal out of things, unless absolutely necessary. Mild inconveniences like being flipped off for accidentally bumping someone in the metro, someone cutting him in a waiting line, entitled moms berating him at his job, being made fun of, not getting his way with something; these were all easily brushed off.

It’s not that he didn’t care, he just knew there were bigger things to worry about than an asshole being an asshole. He lived in Paris, after all. A city that big was bound to be ridden with them.

However, he had learned something about himself recently: His weak spot was Marinette. His skin positively crawled whenever anyone tried to harm, belittle, mock, or otherwise wrong her. There was a second element to this pet peeve of his; he had also discovered that he hated when someone interrupted them. It wasn’t jealousy or anything. It was more the fact that Marinette being the sheer tornado of creative power that she was, was always up to something. Finding a way to squeeze himself into her schedule was already a feat in itself, so he prized every minute he got to spend with her.

Needless to say, this was the precise reason why Luka was so excited for the weekend. He and Marinette were going to spend the entire Saturday afternoon together and the first order of business was going to the park and get ice cream.

The first offense happened at the hands of someone he otherwise respected.

Marinette and Luka had set up a blanket on a spot under a big, hefty tree. The ice cream was already gone, and Luka was playing a few new songs for Marinette. He had, rather evidently, sat a bit closer to her in the hopes that she might lean against him. Which she did, inadvertently causing for Luka’s heart to skip a beat or two. Now that’s an irony, a musician missing a beat.

Sensing Marinette resting her head against his arm, Luka put down the guitar and tentatively shifted to try and bring Marinette into his arms.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, a blur of a person crashed down through the foliage of the tree, falling right in the middle of the pair, and effectively dissolving the calm of the moment.

“Meowch! Heh, sorry!”

“Chat Noir?” Marinette exclaimed, uncharacteristically annoyed as Luka and her crawled from the pile of cat on top of them.

Chat Noir scrambled to his feet and gave them a sheepish smile. “Apologies er, fellow Parisians! Got stuck in the tree for a second there, hah.”

As Marinette grumbled, Luka simply shrugged, smiled coolly at him, and joked, “It happens. Maybe next time we’ll call the fire department to get the cat unstuck?”

Chat Noir blushed with a bit of embarrassment, largely due to the fact that Marinette actually laughed at the joke. Luka had no way of knowing this, of course, but Chat Noir had caught glimpse of him and Marinette as he vaulted through the city and had decided it would be a good idea to spy on them by perching on the tree they sat under, which only added to his shame.

“Yeah. So uh, yep. Sorry!” he babbled again, before scurrying out of the picture.

The second offense was at the hands of Paris’ resident terrorist. And Chat Noir. Again.

After getting their ice cream, Luka and Marinette walked around the city a bit and ended up at the steps of the Trocadero, where as luck would have it, an Akuma appeared.

As Luka and Marinette scrambled to get to safety, Chat Noir cut in to push them out of the way from one of the Akuma’s attacks.

It did not escape Luka that Chat Noir scooped Marinette up and vaulted away with her. He was glad Chat Noir was fulfilling his duties and that Marinette was now at least out of harm’s way, but really, was it so hard to escort them to the nearest shop to take shelter as he had done with literally every other person at the site of the attack?

A couple of minutes after he had disappeared with Marinette in tow, he came back for him.

“Your turn,” Chat Noir said with a wink, and took Luka away to an indistinct street away from the Akuma.

Luka gave Chat Noir a perplexed look. “Where is Marinette?”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head. “I– she must have already hidden away,” he offered lamely.

Feeling a bit irked and suspicious that Chat Noir might have a crush on Marinette, he said, “I’ll look for her, then. Thanks for keeping my date safe, Chat Noir.”

As he calculated, he saw the discomfort in Chat’s face. “Yeah, no problem at all!”

Additionally, Luka quickly discovered he was right about something else: Chat Noir had very likely put Marinette somewhere else. Not only was he not able to find her anywhere, but she was not even picking up her phone anymore.

Luka worried that something might have happened to her, his contempt for the catboy growing by the second.

“That… that… that furry!” He grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out a way to contact Marinette, hoping to the heavens that she was okay.

After the Akuma was neutralized, Marinette called him. Yes, she ended up several districts away and apologized profusely about something she had absolutely no control of which both endeared and saddened Luka.

He had noticed Marinette tended to blame herself when things didn’t work out around her, even when she had no way of controlling them.

“Hey, hey, no stress,” Luka said chuckling, as he interrupted Marinette’s mortified rambling. “We can meet back in the movie theater.”

He let a sigh of relief as he spotted Marinette waiting for him by the ticket booth. He ran to her and threw his arms around her without thought, only realizing what he did when Marinette hugged him back.

He blushed and hugged her tighter.

“I’m got hit by the Akuma after Chat Noir took me away,” Marinette explained. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m just happy you’re okay,” he said, finally pulling away and smiling at her. “So, which movie should we watch?”

Luka pointedly noticed the fact that Marinette suggested to watch a scary movie. The first time he had gone to the movies with her, Alya, Nino, and Juleka had tagged along and he remembered her adamantly informing everyone that she wouldn’t join if they picked anything scary.

He wondered why.

“Really? You sure?” Luka said.

“Yeah, you like scary movies, right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Luka said. “I’m happy to watch anything you wanna watch.”

A light blush crept onto Marinette’s face again. “I wanna watch a scary movie.”

Luka tried not to entertain the thought that the reason why Marinette wanted to watch a scary movie with him was probably a plot with the end goal of having an excuse for them to hug throughout the movie. He didn’t want to get his expectations too high; he was already writing songs about her as it was.

As they took their seats, Marinette seemed to pick up where they left off at the park before Chat Noir interrupted them. She sat decidedly close to him–as close as one could to justify any casual brush of the hand as an accident— while Luka, in a sudden bout of confidence, put his arm around her.

He tensed up, waiting for Marinette’s reaction, and was pleasantly rewarded when she relaxed into his grasp and leaned her head against his chest.

“Oh, I just remembered,” she said, while waiting for the movie to start, “I have something for you.”

She reached into her purse and produced a small box.

Luka beamed at her as he picked the little gift from her palm. “You didn’t have to give me anything, Marinette.”

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she said, shrugging and giving him a warm smile.

He opened the box and found a guitar pick that Marinette had hand painted with little blue-and-black motifs. His heart swelled for her and found himself wishing he could kiss her.

“I love it,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you.”

“I… I have something else for you,” she said, turning herself so that she was squarely facing him.

His pulse hitched up, realizing he wasn’t the only one wishing for a kiss, as Marinette trained her eyes on his.

He couldn’t look away. He felt as if a sort of magnet pulled him towards her, a sort of force that he was unable to escape from even if he wanted to.

A short gasp escaped him as the distance between them shrunk slowly, almost painfully. He was so close he could feel Marinette’s warmth on his skin. So, close their lips almost brushed. So close that–

“Hey guys!” an all-too-familiar voice chirpily greeted them from behind Luka, effectively and immediately interrupting them and causing Marinette to flail and throw the bucket of popcorn she had on her lap.

Luka sighed, this time at the end of his wits. Third interruption, of course it had to be at the hands of whom Luka considered to be the densest human alive. He turned around to find none other than Adrien Agreste, accompanied by Nino. Luka could do little to help himself from giving him the meanest look he could possibly conjure.

“Hey, Adrien. Nino,” he said, clenching his teeth. “What. A nice. Surprise.”

Adrien, oblivious as always, seemed not to grasp what had just transpired. Luckily, as Adrien went on about what a coincidence it was to end up in the same movie theater, at the same showing, and how cool it would be to watch it with them, it was apparent Nino knew better.

“Um, dude, actually, I think I’ll have to sit at the front this time if you don’t mind,” Nino said, interrupting Adrien’s question of whether they could sit with them. “Yeah, my glasses have been giving me trouble…”

Adrien could do little to hide his disappointment but in the end went with Nino. Luka, on the other hand, would have kept grumbling to himself even after they had left if it weren’t for Marinette’s quick kiss on his cheek, which interrupted his train of thought.

“Thanks for being so patient,” Marinette said.

Luka, unable to stay irritated so long as Marinette looked at him like that–with those bright blue eyes and cute little smile, chuckled. “It’s no problem.”

There would be other opportunities, he thought to himself as Marinette snuggled back next to him. For now, he was happy with just watching the movie and enjoy having Marinette in his arms. At one point he was even brave enough to peck her on the head, in one particular scene where Marinette hid her face against his chest with the excuse that she was too scared to watch.

Encouraged by the quick kiss, Marinette looked up to him and again, he found himself drawn to her lips. So, close he could brush his nose against her, so close he smelled her perfume. So close that–

“AN AKUMA!” someone screamed out in the movie theater hall, unchaining a mass hysteria that propelled the audience to rush to the exit.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath as Marinette sprung up and he followed after her.

Dammit! What does a guy have to do to kiss his crush? Was moment with Marinette too much to ask?

Judging from the smug little smile Chat Noir couldn’t help but sport as he herded him and the rest of the civilians to safety, yes. Yes, it was. It took a lot to annoy Luka, but he now kept a list: Anyone wanting to hurt Marinette, being interrupted when he was with her, and the idea of cats in general. Especially black cats.

“I’m just saying, dude’s a bit weird,” Luka said, hanging out with Marinette and some of her friends a couple of days after Chat Noir’s repeated attempts at sabotaging his date, plus then some more. The story had been quite the laugh for everybody and the group now heatedly discussed whether they knew of other couples Chat Noir liked to sabotage, much to Marinette and Adrien’s mortification.

Adrien, Nino noticed, was quite uncomfortable with the topic. He squirmed in his seat and went to great lengths to not cross glances with Luka.

“Yo, you okay?” whispered Nino.

“Huh?”

“You seem a little… uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine!” Adrien hurried to assure him, but then resumed being consumed in his thoughts. Great. Marinette’s boyfriend now had it out for him for accidentally having interrupted them a time or two.

Okay, maybe it had been around ten times so far, but in his defense half of those were due to Akumas and the rest… Well, the rest were just... you know, “accidents.”

Nino did not comment so as to not add fuel to the fire, but he suspected that Adrien was not only lying, but had finally realized his feelings for Marinette. Nino chuckled to himself, feeling a little sorry for Adrien. Poor dude had the timing of drying cement.

ta-da!

I couldn’t include the part where LB kisses Luka because that sent me into outlining a multi-chapter angst fic and we are NOT doing that cause these babies deserve happiness :)) but alas, here you go

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #chat noir #lukanette

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 28: Storm Surge

Chapter 27

Read on AO3

Storm surge: rise in seawater level during a storm

——

Four days. That was how long Claire was stuck at the hospital, how many nights she slept on that shitty cot, how many days she’d eaten nothing but hospital food, how many days since she’d seen her daughter.

How many days that Jamie had spent with her daughter.

The roads were finally clear of debris at around noon, but her shift hadn’t ended until 8:30. She was racing home, desperate to get there before Faith fell asleep. She was certain she’d burst into tears if she couldn’t hug her after the longest separation of their lives. The last text she’d received from Jamie had assured her that they were both wide awake and watching The Little Mermaid, but who was to say that she wouldn’t crash during her drive home?

Unfortunately, the power was still not back at the apartment complex, and Claire’s drive home confirmed that it was not just them. People at the hospital were predicting it would be out at least a week. Claire prayed it would be sooner considering how upset Jamie said Faith had gotten when the lights would not work.

She pulled into the driveway, and did not even bother grabbing her duffle bag from the back seat. She snagged her purse and bolted up the front steps. The door swung open, and there she was, her little girl, bouncing with her arms stretched upward.

“Oh, hello!” Claire exclaimed, letting her purse fall to the floor and scooping Faith up. “Oh, my sweet girl, I missed you so much…”

Faith was humming loudly, squeezing her mother around the neck, and kicking her dangling legs uncontrollably. She began rubbing her cheek against Claire’s and running her fingers through her hair.

“Oh, yes, hello, love…” Claire kissed both of her cheeks over and over, then her head, then her cheeks again. Faith intercepted more kisses by slapping her palms against Claire’s cheeks, causing Claire to sputter and flinch, but she didn’t have the heart to scold her for it. Faith held her mother’s head in place, squishing their faces together.

“Yes, hi, baby, I missed you, too…” Claire nuzzled her nose against Faith’s, even as her little hands squeezed the life out of her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, Claire could see Jamie standing back, watching them. Claire shifted Faith in her arms, settling her on one hip so she could see again. Faith was not finished, however; she continued to rub Claire’s face and fiddle with her hair and rub their cheeks together.

“Hi,” Claire said, her voice thick with emotion, her face flushed.

“Hi,” Jamie answered, stepping closer.

Claire flicked her eyes down to the fort of sheets in the middle of the living room, and she bit her lip.

“It looked bigger in the pictures,” she said, laughing. “You really fit in there?”

“Aye,” Jamie said in mock offense. “It would be a failed endeavor entirely if I didna.”

Claire broke into an enormous grin, and she slid Faith down her body to set her on her feet. Before she could step into Jamie’s arms, Faith wrapped herself bodily around Claire’s legs, rubbing her face on her capris. Claire snorted with laughter as Jamie closed the distance between them, and she was still laughing when he captured her lips with his.

Behind Claire’s eyes danced every photo that Jamie had sent her over the last four days, every play-doh sculpture, every coloring book page, every lego structure, every selfie of the two of them in the fort, and she was overcome. She grasped his face in her hands, squeezing, deepening the kiss.

Despite how busy she’d been at the hospital, she’d had lots of time to think, many hours on that damned cot where sleep eluded her. And she knew, she knew to the very marrow of her bones the truth of what was ready to burst out of her like a storm surge.

Just when she was becoming dizzy for lack of air, she broke the kiss, and Jamie gaped at her. “What was that f— ”

“I love you.”

Jamie’s voice broke off immediately, his mouth flapping soundlessly. As Claire cradled his face close to hers, her stomach flipped, and her heart leapt into her throat. She’d meant it; meant it more than anything in her life. It was something she supposed she knew for a while, perhaps even before that first kiss, but it wasn’t something she’d allowed herself to feel until very recently. And it wasn’t something she was ready to say until it was ready to burst out of her. She was smacked over the head with it on that first night in her hospital cot, and the days and days before she could get back to him and tell him had been agony.

“What…” Jamie’s voice was light and airy, “did ye say..?”

Claire’s breath stuttered out of her with a tremble, and she wet her lips. “I love you, Jamie,” she repeated, resolutely, tightening her grip on his face.

His shuddering exhale danced across her skin, and she watched as his eyes welled up. They danced all over her face, as if to memorize her every feature the moment she’d said it.

“Christ…” His voice broke, and he laughed in spite of himself, a single tear spilling over. “I love you, Claire. God, how I love ye.”

As if he couldn’t control himself, he kissed her feverishly, threading his fingers through her hair. Claire nearly tipped backward at the force of his affection, being that her legs were rooted in place by a thirty-eight pound weight. Jamie quickly adjusted to catch her, covering the entire span of her back with his two hands. Their lips broke apart to laugh, and Jamie pulled her back upright into a tight embrace. They swayed for a good while to the tuneless melody of Faith’s joyful humming.

God, how I love you.

Claire inhaled deeply, breathing him in. He smelled of his aftershave, crisp and clean, and somehow also like spaghetti-os, like Angus’s dental treats, and like Faith’s shampoo that somehow always clung to her hair no matter how long it was between showers.

He smelled like home.

Reluctantly, Claire peeled herself away from him, then looked down at Faith. She debated using her harsher tone to make her let go, but then decided she didn’t have it in her at the moment. Instead, she melted to the floor, forcing Faith to topple on top of her. Faith got an idea then; Claire could see it in her eyes. Then she was being pulled into the fort, and there was absolutely nothing Claire could do about it.

Before Claire could even blink, she was nestled in a veritable bird’s nest of blankets and pillows, Faith in her lap, and Prince Eric was finding Ariel on the beach. Jamie crawled in after them, grinning impishly.

“I hope you realize what you’ve done,” Claire said. “I’ll never be able to take this down now. It’s going to become a permanent fixture. Are these pillows from my bed?”

She arched an eyebrow at him, attempting intimidation, but given the spread of Jamie’s grin, she supposed it was not at all working. He settled in beside her on the air mattress, brushing hair off her neck and kissing her there and then nuzzling the spot with his nose. Like a cat whose favorite scratching spot had been found, Claire’s body went limp and liquid against him until she was in his lap, pulling Faith with her. Eventually, they were in an indecipherable pile of limbs, all three of them. During “Kiss the Girl,” Jamie kept looking down at Claire and waggling his eyebrows absurdly until Claire rolled her eyes and obliged him for a quick peck. She lost count of how many times it happened by the end of the song.

Faith didn’t fall asleep during the movie, but neither did she want to move when it finished. Jamie retreated from the fort and returned with a plastic cup that came from the kitchen, a bathroom Dixie cup, and Faith’s toothbrush. To Claire’s bewildered look, Jamie replied:

“I wasna gonna let her get away wi’ no’ brushing until the power came back. So I brought it to her. It’s been working.”

Claire’s face softened as she remembered the meltdown over the lights that Jamie had mentioned on the first night. That he had found a workaround solution that did not distress Faith was astounding and heartwarming. She watched in awe as Faith sat in her nest of blankets with her mouth open, putting up no fight as Jamie brushed her teeth. He had her spit into the empty plastic cup, and then rinse and spit with the water from the Dixie cup.

“Good girl,” Jamie praised, poking her nose with her toothbrush. He departed then, and Claire could hear him washing the cup in the kitchen sink.

“Good job, baby,” Claire repeated, rubbing her shoulder and kissing her head. “You had so much fun with Jamie, didn’t you?” Faith hummed contently, swirling her fingers in Angus’s fur. “Such a good girl.”

Jamie returned shortly after, and Claire could not help but laugh at the sight of that Viking of a man crawling into the small opening. “So what now?” The words bubbled through her laughter. “We lay here all night?”

He blushed a little. “Well, that’s what I’ve been doing.”

Claire gawked. “Are you serious? I was joking.”

His blush deepened. “She got upset when I tried to leave. And she’d already melted down twice that day. Figured it wasna fair to make her go again just fer me.”

Claire could literally feel herself melting, inside and out. If she hadn’t already found the nerve to say it, she would have been overcome and blurted it out right then. Perhaps Jamie could see it, because he inched closer.

“Come here,” Claire crooned, holding onto Faith with one arm and pulling Jamie closer with the other, kissing him soundly. She pulled away when she felt something plastic poking at her nose, and she went cross-eyed trying to see what it was.

The medicine dropper.

“Right,” Claire said sheepishly, and Jamie smirked at her. Claire lifted Faith off her lap as Jamie simultaneously swiped the pillows that came from Claire’s bed off the air mattress. Faith settled in on her pillow, nestled under her blanket, and Claire gave her the Risperdal.

“Good girl,” she said, and she patted the space next to Faith, which Angus hopped into obediently. When she shifted in her seat on the air mattress, she saw Jamie lying on his back with his hands behind his head, a pillow on the floor for each of them. He raised his eyebrows invitingly and nodded toward the unoccupied pillow, and Claire groaned audibly.

“I am not sleeping here all night,” she grumbled, even as she nuzzled into him, mostly on him rather than the pillow. “Not after four nights on a cot.”

“Aye, alright,” he said, kissing her forehead. “We can move in about an hour.”

Claire sighed resignedly. “You’re staying the night?”

“I don’t have to — ”

“I want you to,” she interrupted firmly, resting her chin on his chest to look him in the eye. “It wasn’t really a question.”

“Aye.” Jamie chuckled nervously. “Alright.”

Smiling in victory she lay her head on his chest again. They lay tangled together, Jamie rubbing up and down her back, Claire tracing circles on his chest. Once Faith’s breathing grew heavy, they tentatively sat up. One by one, they inched out of the small opening to the fort, each of them holding a pillow, both of them having to bite their lips to keep from giggling like school children. Once they got to their feet, they crept quickly and silently to Claire’s bedroom, and the second the door was shut, they let loose the bubbling laughter. Jamie tossed the pillows onto the bed and turned back to her.

Even as they were both still laughing, Claire locked the door behind her and pressed her mouth to Jamie’s in one swift motion. She felt the growl in his chest before she heard it, and both sensations sent heat rushing to her core. They stumbled back until they landed in a heap on the bed, laughing again. Claire straddled him immediately, deepening the kiss and rolling her hips when Jamie greedily seized handfuls of her arse.

She sighed a delicious moan into his mouth, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling it off between kisses. In return, he pulled off her shirt and undid her bra with an expert ease of someone who’d been having sex much longer than he’d been.

“Oh, I missed you…” Claire crooned, her entire body tingling with delighted electricity at the feeling of skin on skin, her breasts pressed flat against his chest. To further relish in this feeling, she scooted lower to suckle at his neck, delighting in his groans and how his roaming hands on her back would stutter and dig their nails into her when she nibbled. She made her way down to his nipples, having recently learned that he was nearly as sensitive there as a woman. She teased him for probably longer than he could bear, considering he yanked her face back up to his for a searing kiss. He abruptly sat up, pushing her up with him, so she was straddling his lap. He bore his eyes into hers while he undid her button and fly.

“Take them off.”

She shivered from head to toe at his command, and she immediately obeyed, getting up on her knees to slide her capris and underwear down, and he did not help her get them over her knees and heels. She stayed up on her knees and he growled hungrily, reaching up to kiss her, trailing his hand up her inner thigh, and resting to cup her, cover her entirely. She gasped raggedly, tugging on his hair roughly. His fingers slipped in easily, and she groaned loudly, unable to stop from thrusting her hips, riding his hand.

“It is such an honor…to worship this body…” he breathed into her neck, stroking her walls deftly. “To love this body.”

Love.

Claire had had sex. She’d had sex before Frank, had sex with Frank. She’d had sex with Jamie, of course.

But she’d never, ever made love.

That was what this was, what it had to be. Sex, fucking, was not enough to describe it. She’d never been caressed inside the way Jamie did, she’d never known such affection as his other hand roaming up and down her torso, tenderly squeezing each breast in their turn. Every touch said he loved her.

And she believed him.

It would have been too easy to let his fingers finish her, and she would have been all the more ready for him, but she couldn’t stand another moment without him inside her. Caught off guard, Jamie did not expect the rough shove she gave him, pushing him onto his back, forcing his fingers out of her. She undid his fly and slid off the remainder of his clothing until he was fully bared to her.

She greedily roamed her eyes all over his perfect form, her lips flapping uselessly. What could she say that could even come close to the poetics that Jamie had uttered to her? “I’m honored to worship your body, too,” would be ridiculously stupid, not to mention inadequate.

So, she settled on the only thing she could think to say.

“I love you.”

She whispered it against his lips as she took him in, inch by inch, his grip on her arse tightening and tightening with every inch. He kissed her then, groaning. She rode him slowly, savoring every second; every second of their love-making.

“With all my heart, I love you.”

Tears sprang to his eyes at that, and she kissed them away. She didn’t realize that she, too, was crying, until he flipped her over, staying inside, and kissed away moisture on her own cheeks.

“I love you, Claire,” he groaned into her ear, moving slowly inside her. “My heart is yours. I love you.”

He loved her tenderly, softly, wildly, hard, so achingly hard, loudly. They fell together in shared ecstasy, their hearts beating as one.

If his heart was hers, then hers was his.

Even while Claire was still convinced she was in love with Frank, she’d never known what it was like to lose her heart. Not until Faith. The second her baby was put in her arms, her heart was no longer hers. She thought it was impossible to give away something that had already been given.

But, without her knowing, there’d been a piece tucked away all along, a piece that was waiting for Jamie.

I’ve waited all my life to love you.

And as the blackness of a deep, dreamless sleep overcame her, the scent of their combined sweat dancing in her nose, his arms like a vice around her, she knew it to be true.

——

From a dead sleep, Claire was woken by a sudden chill. For a terrifying moment, she thought she might be coming down with something. She listened to her body for aches and pains but felt nothing. And then she realized.

Jamie’s warmth had left her.

She sat up, too quickly considering how her head spun, and could see in the light of the moon that Jamie was getting dressed.

“Where are you going?”

Jamie turned around, putting his arms through the sleeves of his t-shirt. “Ye didna hear?”

A loud bang sounded, making Claire jump ten feet in the air and instinctually cover herself with the sheets. The bang was followed by a loud whine, and the pieces clicked in her head.

Jamie tossed Claire a t-shirt, one of his given the scent of it, and a fresh pair of underwear. Claire was too tired to remark on his going through her underwear, but she tucked that away for later. Now in flannel pants and a fresh shirt, Jamie made his way to the door, turning to make sure that Claire was dressed before unlocking and opening it. Faith did not even address Jamie, and before he could say anything, she was already shuffling past him and toward the bed. Claire glanced at her phone for the time, two in the morning.

She sighed in defeat, helping Faith as she climbed clumsily into the bed. Angus trotted behind her and hopped up onto the bed, settling at Claire’s feet. As Claire was getting Faith settled, she felt the bed shift, and looked up to see Jamie getting in on the other side of Faith. It did not take long at all for Claire to fall dead asleep again, Jamie’s arm draped over Faith’s body and around Claire’s waist. The last thing she heard was a muffled kiss to a curly head, and not her own.

“I love ye, sweet Faith.”

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Can You Die of a Broken Heart?

Teen

Gen

When Nari said "the order will rip your soul to pieces," Douxie thought she meant literally. Turns out, they can do it figuratively AND literally.

Ao3

Series: I Can Make RotT So Much Worse

Based on this post by @spellcasterdouxie

“Why don’t we try to get a little information out of him, first?”

Douxie’s head jerked up. He couldn’t betray his friends—but if they were interrogating him, it meant they wouldn’t have Nari for just that much longer.

Bellroc rolled their eyes. “What information could he possibly have?”

Skrael shrugged. “A secret weapon? An idea left behind by Merlin? I think we should take a look around inside of that stupid, stupid head of his. Since he’s around, anyway.” His hands glowed with magic. “You made a mistake, wizard. You put your soul in the body of another. That makes it… vulnerable. Exposed.”

Magic pulsed out of Skrael’s hand, striking Douxie’s head. At first, it seemed like nothing had happened. Then hundreds and hundreds of glowing strands erupted from his head, stretching out.

Bellroc’s eyes seemed to light with a cruel glow. “Memories…” they hissed, reaching out.

When their hand touched a glowing strand, it erupted into a scene Douxie knew well—a lecture from Merlin. Over something he’d broken, of course.

“Useless,” Bellroc growled. They seized the glowing thread, and with a flick of their wrist, it snapped off.

Douxie felt a tug in his gut, and an overwhelming feeling of something being… missing. He’d just seen the memory—and he knew there was something that he’d remembered before, but it was gone, and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find it.

The order tore through memories like a wildfire, pulling up and discarding them. Planning the subway trap with the other guardians of arcadia—gone. Krel’s designs for the amulet—Bellroc and Skrael watched for a bit, then ripped those away, too. The empty pit in Douxie’s stomach grew wider and wider, and the missing memories left him with a spinning head. It didn’t hurt, per se, it was just… disorienting. He knew he should feel upset—but it was hard to feel upset over losing something you didn’t remember having.

“Remember when I told you magic is mastery over life?”

Douxie lifted his head. “N-no,” he gasped, trying to pull back, “That’s—that’s—don’t—please—”

“My, Hisirdoux, what a life you’ve lived.”

Bellroc grabbed one of his horns and yanked him up. “What a pathetic life you’ve lived.”

“What a wizard you’ve become.”

“P-please—”

Skrael seemed to take special delight in ripping that one away.

“N—” Douxie’s heart hurt, but he didn’t know why, he just knew that he’d lost something, something important to him.

“A wizard does not make mistakes. He makes unexpected—”

Douxie screamed as the Order ripped through memories, until he wasn’t sure why they were important anymore.

A gentle purr—nothing but stone.

Smiles and laughs—a circular room

Moments with his student—train tracks and darkness.

A being made of ice tilted his head up, sharp claws tracing his face but not breaking skin. “Have you ever heard the Egyptian’s theory on the soul? They believed it was made of several parts. One was the ren—the name. But it was more than the name—it was memories.”

His head was spinning, and spinning, and he couldn’t remember anything but this room of stone and darkness. He managed a guttural moan—he wanted someone, needed someone so badly it hurt, but he couldn’t remember who—

The ice being jerked on one of his horns. “Your memories are an important part of you, wizard.”

Wizard? What…?

“Experience makes you who you are—without your memories, you’re just a sad, sad husk.”

A fire being spat. “Enough. We have spent long enough on this creature. Return it to its body. Without its memories, it would not even know to attack us.”

“I’d rather not take the risk.” The ice being leaned back. “When you see its soul…”

“We’ll get Nari back. But he… he will not go home.”

What… he was too tired, too sick, too lonely to figure out what they were talking about.

And then the two beings started chanting, and the world dissolved into pain, soul-crushing pain.

At least, he’d thought it was soul-crushing. Until he felt himself tearing out of his body, and the ice and fire being grabbed hold of his soul and pulled.

Turned out, there was a feeling worse than soul-crushing.

Soul ripping.

They tore at his being, and even though he was out of a body, he somehow still felt it, in every fiber of his being, that horrible, horrible tearing sensation, like taffy that had been pulled just a little too far.

Some instinct, some nagging voice in the back of his head screamed at him to end it! End the spell now, before they destroy you!

And he didn’t know what that meant, he didn’t know what spell, but maybe the little voice in the back of his head took over because he was waking up in a completely new place, in a body that was different, but felt… more familiar.

“Wha—huh—I—”

“Douxie!” A cat barreled into him, and he instinctively hugged it. It just felt… right, but he didn’t know why.

Some kid with scars on his face stared him meaningfully in the eye. “Douxie, do you know where they are?! Where’s the order, where do they have Nari?”

That sure was a lot of words that probably meant something. He shook his head. “I—I’m sorry—I really am—but—who’s Douxie?”

Xxx

“I can lock onto Nari. We’ll get her.”

Jim glanced back at the vacant Douxie, who was patting Archie, apparently with no clue of who he was. “We might need his magic.”

“We can’t take him along like this! It would be murder!” Claire twisted around to look at him, shaking his head. “Besides, I… I don’t know if he remembers how to do magic. Jim, what if we lost him?!”

Jim brushed her cheek with one hand. “Hey… look at me. Look at me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Douxie, it’s that he always finds a way to come back. He died, remember? And he still came back to us. He’ll get better.”

“He doesn’t remember who he is, who we are! What if he can’t come back?!”

“Then we’ll find a way to bring him back. We’ll find a spell, or Krel will be able to invent something—we won’t leave him like this. I promise.”

Xxx

Douxie—apparently that was his name. That’s what they kept telling him. He didn’t know. All he knew was the last hour of his life—the last horrible, painful hour of his life.

He hadn’t known it was so bad—not until he came here, where there was light, and everything was soft and kind, instead of harsh and painful.

And there was Archie, the cat.

Jim and Claire approached. “We’re heading out,” Jim said quietly to Archie.

Archie jumped up with a hiss. “Douxie’s not going. He needs to recover.”

“We weren’t planning on it,” Claire soothed, “No taking Douxie into dangerous situations right now. Promise.”

Archie leapt into Douxie’s lap. “I’m staying with him.”

“But what if we need—”

“Douxie needs me more. Go.”

Claire and Jim exchanged a glance, then left without a word. Archie snuggled down further in Douxie’s lap. Douxie absentmindedly stroked the cat. “Who’s your owner?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Then… who takes care of you?”

Archie gave him a look that was just so deeply sad it made Douxie want to cry, although he wasn’t sure why. “I… have a friend. My familiar.”

Douxie settled back, petting him. “What happened to him? Why isn’t he here?”

Archie started to shake a little bit. “He… didn’t come back from a fight.”

Douxie gave the cat a little squeeze. “I’m sorry.” They sat in silence, then, “Tell me about him?”

And Archie did.

He told Douxie about a wizard. About all of the adventures they’d shared. All of the hardships they’d endured—but all of the good times they’d had, too. He told him about a strict master who’d eventually given his own life for his apprentice. About how his familiar had taught Claire magic. How he’d saved the world, at the cost of his own life—then had come back from the dead.

He told him about how strong the wizard was. How brave. How kind. How clever, even if sometimes his “cleverness” backfired in his face.

Douxie’s heart ached for the cat and his familiar. It was obvious how much Archie had loved his wizard—and he’d lost him. Would have to live without him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “He sounded…”

Archie buried himself in Douxie’s jacket. “Yes. I have to believe…”

“Believe what?”

“I have to believe that he’ll come back.” Archie twisted out, his eyes desperately searching Douxie’s. “That you’ll come back.”

An eerie sense of familiarity swept over him, the worst déjà vu.

Those stories.

They were… his stories?

He was the wizard?

What had the order done to him?!

Tears for his lost life sprang up in his eyes, and he hugged Archie, mind whirling in a thousand directions at once. It was like the Order was shredding his soul all over again—he’d had a whole life, 900 years of it, and it had been taken away. He didn’t know who he was—the only thing he had was stories of who he’d used to be, echoes of friendships he used to have. And now? What was he supposed to do?

“Douxie?” Archie asked quietly.

“I want to be him. I want to be him again, I want to be your familiar, I want to be Douxie again.” He scrubbed at his eyes. “There has to be some way to get back the memories they took, please—I… I don’t want to lose you.”

Archie purred. “Memories or not, you will always be my familiar. Nothing will change that. You won’t lose me.” He tilted his head at Douxie. “I know the world might be ending soon and all, but… how would you feel about going on a different adventure?”

“What?”

“I don’t know if we can get your memories back, Douxie. But we can certainly make new ones.”

#honestly this is a concept i want to explore more in-depth-- plus y'know fun torture and whump #but right now my brain is spitballing angsty ideas at lightning speed and i'm just spitting them out on paper #so maybe later #when i finish shattered timelines (ignore my loud laughter)#rott #rott spoilers #toa #tales of arcadia #toa fanfic #my writing #douxie

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marsophilia · 3 years

Text

OF WAR AND FATE — chapter one

<- masterlist ->

pairing :: royalty!seonghwa x reader

word count :: 1.9k

warnings :: blood

The border forest was a peaceful place. Especially if one decided to live there. In a small cottage, away from war and surrounded by peaceful sounds of animals and the nearby river. The cottage that found its place in the middle of the forest was simple. It was wooden with a few windows, garden with lots of herbs next to it. It had a homey feel to it - one that would certainly draw people in.

That’s how Hongjoong liked it.

The solitude of it won him over the most. Especially since he built the cottage by himself. And even though he proudly says how much he enjoys the solitude, he’s also the one that proudly enjoys the company of his cat.

Having all the time to himself, Hongjoong liked to use it up whenever he could which resulted in his scattered sleep schedule. Meaning one day he would sleep from noon until the evening and spend the night doing god knows what, or other days he would fall asleep around early evening and sleep in until noon. He had to catch up with sleep somehow.

But never in his right mind was he expecting that during one of his sleepless nights would two figures barge in, one on the verge of passing out while the other was choking on their own tears. And indeed, this was the place that Seonghwa led you to while losing consciousness more and more. “Please… Please help!” Your voice cracked and as if on cue, Seonghwa’s legs finally gave up as the man toppled over on the floor.

It didn’t take long for recognition to spark in Hongjoong’s eyes, both when seeing his friend and you - and he knew who you were. From Seonghwa’s stories and also as the heir of the other kingdom. Shuffling over, he watched you fall down to your knees next to your lover again, not hesitating to drop on the other side of his body. “Shit- What the hell happened?” He questioned, looking at you for answers while trying to get his friend up to transfer him to somewhere he could help him.

You looked down in guilt again, frantically wiping your tears away as you got up to help him pick Seonghwa up. “It’s my fault- Somehow, someone followed me into the woods.” You both successfully got Seonghwa up, holding him under his arms around the waist while Hongjoong instructed you where you were going.

“I was so stupid, how did i get so careless! And they probably watched us for a while, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take one single shot! God!” Tears welled up in your eyes again as the two of you placed Seonghwa on the table in a room to the side. “I doubt it was your fault. But I’ll ask you to wait outside for now.” Your gaze snapped up to meet Hongjoong who was still very much a stranger to you.

He couldn’t be serious, right?

“W-what?” You were in disbelief. There was no way you’re leaving Seonghwa’s side while he was in the condition that he was in. “I need space and concentration if you want me to patch him up. You can crash on the couch, there’s food in the kitchen and if you need comfort, feel free to cuddle Pearl. Oh, yeah- I’m Hongjoong.” He introduced himself with a small smile. “Y/n…” You responded and all he did was send you a sympathetic nod. “I know.”

You didn’t stay after that, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind yourself. ‘I know.’ What was that supposed to mean? You guessed he was a friend of Seonghwa so that immediately made him trust him just a little bit. Maybe Seonghwa told him about you? Yeah, that was most likely the case.

Oh, God… What did you do?

Seonghwa was hurt with an arrow impaling him because of you! This was exactly what you tried to avoid so how did it even happen?! Knees buckled beneath you as the fear finally started kicking in. Threading your fingers through your hair, gripping at the roots. You were on the verge of hyperventilating. Whoever shot Seonghwa was sent by someone. No way did they decide to shoot the prince just like that.

Oh no… Did that mean your parents knew?! When you go back you’ll never see the light of day again. They’ll most likely end up holding you under a lock and key for the rest of your life. And that means- no more seeing Seonghwa. No- he was your place of peace, where you could go and just be in his presence to feel instant comfort. He felt like a bigger home than your family who was always distant from each other.

Being snapped away from your overthinking by a meow, your eyes snapped downwards until they fell on a small ball of fur wrapped around your leg. Confusion clouded your eyes until Hongjoong’s words finally made sense to you. “Ah… You must be Pearl, hm?” Mumbling out, you leaned down to pick up the animal in your arms. It surprisingly calmed you down just a little bit.

Moving the both of you towards the sofa that was nearby, you finally let your legs give up as you collapse back on the sofa. The exhaustion started hitting you just now. It was a long night and it felt like a nightmare rather than a dream, like usual.

You curled up on the couch, Pearl snuggling into your stomach for warmth. Your hand instinctively rested on the cat’s head, scratching the animal behind her ears. “Pearl, I have no idea what to do…” You mumbled out, a yawn breaking out in the middle of your sentence. Never mind the overthinking your brain was still thinking about the whole situation, it didn’t take you long to pass out from the exhaustion while hoping that Seonghwa was in good hands with Hongjoong. Hopefully, you didn’t make another mistake.

It wasn’t until the morning with sun barging through the windows onto your face - you woke up. It was hard to adjust your eyes to the bright light and the exhaustion you felt last night was still there. Pearl was long gone, probably already scurried off as soon as you fell asleep and your hands stilled. Her needs were fulfilled.

But after you turned on your back to stretch out your limbs, your eyes fell on a figure sitting by your legs fast asleep. You were unsure if you ever sat up as fast as you did at that moment, your eyes doubling in size. Because in front of you was sitting no one else but Park fucking Seonghwa.

His upper body was patched up and wrapped with a big bandage, his arms crossed over his chest as he slept leaned against the back lean of the small couch. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he resting? Wasn’t he in pain? Where was Hongjoong?

“I can hear you thinking…” A tired voice mumbled out as one of Seonghwa’s eyes popped open to look at you. Almost instantly, you reached out to cup his cheeks while your eyes pooled with tears. From your mouth fell numerous apologies for how sorry you were and how you never wanted to bring him in danger. It really didn’t take long for your tears to start rolling down your cheeks.

“Baby please stop crying,” Seonghwa mumbled, doing his best to wipe your tears away before reaching out to wrap his hands around you while snuggling his face in the crook of your neck. You could hear him wince and that only made worry grow in your stomach even more. “How come you’re here-? Why aren’t you resting in that bed Hongjoong put you in last night? You should be sleeping and recovering…”

He turned his head to look at you while still resting it on your shoulder before giving you a small smile, “I woke up around 5 in the morning and couldn’t sleep without knowing where you were.” Seonghwa slowly explained while your mouth hung open, “So I managed to nag Hongjoong into helping me come here- it took a lot of convincing.”

You sniffled your tears away before wrapping your arms around him, careful enough so you wouldn’t hurt him. “Hwa… I was so scared.” You confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean you got fucking got shot- and by someone from my kingdom nonetheless!”

Your cheek was pressed against the top of his head while you tried to hold in a choked sob, "Seonghwa… What if my parents know? What if someone saw us or followed us and informed them?" He could hear the worry in your voice and he already knew you overthought everything that happened yesterday.

"Y/n-" You cut him off while pushing yourself back so you could look him in the eyes, "No Seonghwa! What if they go after you again!? They'll probably put me under a lock once I get back and I wouldn't be surprised if they searched the woods for you! And i-" this time, a sob did end up cutting you off, desperately wiping at your cheeks.

Seonghwa could feel his heart breaking for you after seeing you in this state. And for the second time that morning, he pulled you in for a hug. He let you cry it out, rubbing your back gently. He knew the sooner you let everything out, the sooner you would calm down.

He also wasn't sure what words would even manage to console you.

He was scared, just as much as you were. There was a chance that he won't be able to see you anymore after you get back to your home. And just that thought brought him more pain than he could even start to imagine.

After a few minutes, your cries finally started lessening into soft sniffles. You felt pathetic. That was the best way to describe how you were feeling at the moment. Pathetic, scared and all you could do was cry.

Not even a moment later, the sound of doors being opened echoed around the small house, a smiling Hongjoong reentering his home. "Good news, I got what I needed for your woun-" cutting himself off, he looked over the scene he walked in on. More specifically, Seonghwa with a deep frown covering his handsome face and you crying into his shoulder.

"A-ah!" He almost stumbled over his feet, before making a bee-line towards one of the rooms at the back of his house. You didn't know what was hiding back there, "Right! Privacy-"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Seonghwa's friend, moving to wipe the tears from your eyes. "He seems nice… How did you two even meet?"

It took one chuckle from you to make Seonghwa break into a soft smile, "That's… a long story. For another time." He mumbled before leaning forwards to place a soft kiss against your hairline. He knew that everything would come crashing down soon enough so… for now, he wanted to use up all of these small moments with you.

Sighing, he turned his head to connect your eyes, "We'll need to talk about what to do now regarding… everything." Hearing the anguish in his voice, you slowly nodded before he cut off your thoughts, "But not for now- not today. Just one more day? Let's just have one more normal day and deal with everything tomorrow?"

"Alright… we can do that." You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. Because as much as you didn't want you, you knew the two of you will have to face your problems one of these days. But… just one more day of peace and quiet.

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