#our entire friendship tree is almost completely filled

[illeee-girl]

You Infire Me Chapter Fifteen: Christmas in NYC, Part Two

yoongi x reader genre: fluff warnings: none word count: 2.5k

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“Because everything of value that we will know in this life comes from our relationships with those around us. Because there is nothing material that measures against the intangibles of love and friendship.” — R. A. Salvatore, Passage to Dawn

Min Yoongi sits at the hotel bar, lazily stirring his untouched martini, staring at the olives on the toothpick as if they were the most intriguing things in the world. He puts them in the liquid; they look bigger. He lifts them out; they get smaller. This is his only entertainment as he waits for his ex-bandmates for an hour and a half.

At least the room is cozy. Every surface is either mahogany or polished red leather. A large fireplace provides warmth, and a lavishly decorated Christmas tree brings the comforting smell of pine. Expensive candles on every surface complete the ambience.

Yoongi checks his watch, wondering if it’s time to leave—if he dressed in a dark suit and combed his hair back for nothing. Well, not for nothing, he supposes. Y/N did seem to enjoy seeing me like this. It’s too bad I vastly prefer hoodies and disheveled hair. Though she seems to enjoy that, too. He smirks to himself, eyes still on his drink.

As he’s caught in his deliberation-meets-reverie, the wood-and-glass door to the bar bursts open. Kim Namjoon, the leader of BTS, enters, with his five little ducklings in tow. Yoongi checks each one off in his head. Jin, the dad joke-making hunk. Hoseok, or J-Hope, the street dancer-meets-rapper-meets-fashionista. Taehyung, stage name V, the jazz-loving, curly haired heartthrob. Jimin, the smallest of the bunch, with the biggest personality and work ethic. Finally, Jungkook, the ultra-talented golden boy who has the entire world wrapped around his finger.

Yoongi slides off of his barstool, semi-enthralling olives forgotten. Before him stands the six boys who’d been by his side through thick and thin. The six boys who’d become his best friends. The six boys whom he’d deserted.

“Hi, guys,” is all he can think to say. They remain silent in return, and the awkwardness almost ends Yoongi. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands, trying not to let his urge to flee grow too strong. Before he can run, Hoseok darts forward and wraps him in a hug warmer than any fire- or candle-filled room. “I missed you, hyung,” he says.

Jungkook is the next to approach, followed by Jimin and Jin. Soon, all six are wrapped around Yoongi. Their group hug captures the attention of the bar, but Yoongi is too surrounded by dark, coiffed hair and expensive cologne to notice.

And despite himself, tears come to his eyes.

“I missed you guys too,” he admits, his chest hurting. He’s not sure if it’s from stress or happiness.

They break away after what is both too much and not enough time for Yoongi. Namjoon and Jin slip into chairs at a nearby table, and the rest follow their lead.

Yoongi is the first to ask for a life update. “So, how have you guys been? What have you guys been up to? I’m sorry, I’ll admit that I haven’t been keeping tabs on how BTS is doing. I’m off of social media completely. And the internet, really.”

“We’ve been good,” Namjoon nods, acting a little colder than the others. “Staying busy. You know the drill. Writing music, releasing albums, touring, doing interviews. The process is the same as it’s always been.”

“We get to travel more now!” Jungkook grins.

“Yeah,” Taehyung concurs. “I’m actually here in New York quite a bit, and Jimin’s in LA a lot.”

“Jin’s shooting for a movie now that his army service is over!” Hoseok gushes.

“I’m sponsoring an art museum now,” Namjoon puffs his chest, proud. “And Jungkook’s always off doing who knows what. Dude’s got a billion new hobbies.”

Jungkook nods. He concurs.

“We’ve missed having you with us,” Jimin blurts. Taehyung shushes him. “Sorry, Yoongi-ah. I wasn’t supposed to bring that up.”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi consoles. “There’s no sense in pretending I was never one of you.”

“How have you been doing?” Jungkook eagerly asks.

“What have you been doing?” Namjoon narrows his eyes.

Yoongi inwardly sighs. Here we go, he thinks. Prepare for your monologue. He takes a deep breath in, and begins.

“First of all, it’s really so good to see you all again.” He looks around the table, surveying his hyungs, his lost brothers now found. “You all look really good. Namjoon, you’re like the hulk now, man. Send me your workout routine. And J-Hope, that outfit looks amazing on you. You’re all dressed really nice–”

“Cut to the chase, Suga,” Namjoon demands, letting Yoongi’s old stage name slip.

Yoongi requires another deep breath to continue, but continue he does. “I still love you guys. All of you,” he divulges the truth, though doing so pains him. His lungs seem to be on fire at his next inhale. “And because I love you, you deserve to know the truth of why I left.”

Namjoon crosses his arms expectantly. He’s only acting like this to protect the others, Yoongi reminds himself. Understandably, he doesn’t want me to hurt them again. The younger members’ eyes grow to fill their faces, prompting Yoongi to keep talking.

“I . . . I left because . . .” he stammers.

Remember what Y/N said in the library that day? Yoongi closes his eyes, picturing the shape of your lips as you said: “You’ll just have to be honest with them. They’ve probably wondered, for all these years, why you left. They deserve the truth.”

With that memory, he gathers the strength to tell them.

“I never grew tired of you all. I grew tired of the lifestyle. Working late into the night, eating one meal a day, traveling so much of the time. I got tired of being told what music I could and couldn’t release, what lyrics I could and couldn’t write. I got tired of keeping up an image—or, in my case, multiple images—and worrying about what the world thought of me. I didn’t want to care about any of that any more. I wanted to live a normal life, free from the pressure of being an idol.

“We had such great years together, guys. We did great things. I wouldn’t trade our years together for anything in this world. I still reflect on them often. But it was never going to be a life I could live forever. I’m too introverted, too free-spirited, and too stubborn, for that.

“If I could go back, I’d change the way I did it. I’d tell you guys my plan to leave, and my reasons why. But I wouldn’t change the fact that I left. Normal life is criminally underrated, you guys. The world is open to you—you’re free to make your own decisions, to do what you want to do, to be who you want to be. Yes, there’s less fame and fortune involved, but . . .” he pauses for a smile, “it’s worth it. So, so worth it.”

Yoongi’s eyes search for a reaction on his hyungs’ faces.

Finally, Jin beams and says, “Thanks for opening up to us, Yoongi-ah.”

“I’ve never blamed you,” Jungkook kindly admits, laying a hand on Yoongi’s forearm. “I missed you, but I never blamed you for leaving. Even though you didn’t tell us the reason until now . . . I think I kinda knew all along. I understood.”

“I understood, too,” Jimin adds, his eyes falling to the floor in front of him. “More than you know.”

The group shares its first complete happy moment in three years. Hearts are softened, smiles are uncovered. Drinks and snacks are passed, dad jokes are told. Just as before, memories are made.

Taehyung glances at his watch. “We have to go soon, guys.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok nods. “But Yoongi, you’re coming to our hotel later to sleep over tonight, right?”

Yoongi nods, the thought of eating jjajangmyeon and playing video games with the boys again filling his stomach with excitement.

“Sleep over!” Jungkook exclaims, a little too loud for a classy hotel bar.

________________________

Yoongi leans casually against the passenger door of his black Porsche as you walk out of the conference center, an irreversible grin plastered to your face. He opens the car door for you, and makes sure you’re settled before taking off.

“How was your conference?” He asks you, the eagerness to know in his voice.

“It . . . actually went really well,” you sigh with happiness, glad that it went well, but even more glad that it’s over. No more stressing about it. “My presentation was received really well, even though I got some challenging questions at the end. I managed to maintain grace under pressure.”

“I can’t hug you while I’m driving, but know that I’m extremely proud of you.”

“No worries. I know you are. It’s written all over your face.” You stare at Yoongi’s gentle profile, the city lights and sunset over the Hudson River enveloping him in shadow, complementing his beauty.

You snap back to reality to type the address of your hotel into his GPS.

“Did you get a room for the night?” You wonder aloud. “It just occurred to me that I never asked you.”

He smiles at his response. “I’m actually staying in the boys’ suite tonight.”

“Oh!” You perk up. “So . . . it went well, then?”

He nods, a strand of black hair falling out of place and into his eyes. “It did. They . . . they hugged me pretty much as soon as they saw me. Some parts were rocky, but I think I explained myself well. And they weren’t mad.”

“That’s good,” is all you manage to say, your voice breathy. “That’s good,” you repeat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he reaches to set a hand over yours. “I’m not going back.”

On the inside, you breathe a sigh of relief. On the outside, you pretend confusion. A why-would-that-matter-to-me confusion.

You even ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to?”

This is it. Let’s give him a clear out. He can go now, if he wants. Leave me. Us. Whatever this thing is.

But his response is: “I’m sure.”

Oh, thank God.

“Good,” you smile, adjusting your blazer and shifting your eyes from Yoongi’s profile to the city outside the car window. “Cause I like normal life Min Yoongi. I’m glad he’s here to stay.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Yoongi assures, his gaze shifting away from the road momentarily to search your face with warm brown eyes. “The only exceptions are spontaneous trips to DC and New York with this one particular girl who’s about to take the world by storm.”

________________________

After steak and lobster from room service and approximately 36 rounds of FIFA, Yoongi and his six hyungs sit on the floor of the five-star hotel’s penthouse suite to gorge themselves on ice cream and gossip. It’s been a BTS tradition for as long as Yoongi can remember, and he’s ecstatic to be a part of it again.

That is, until a partially drunk Namjoon insists, “Yoongi, tell us about your girlfriend.”

The other five boys look at Yoongi as if he’d just won the lottery. Or murdered somebody. (It depends on your interpretation.)

“YOONGI,” Jin yells in his trademark, singsong way.

“You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” Taehyung’s jaw drops.

“AISH,” Jimin clutches his heart. “It’s 2 AM and we haven’t talked about this yet?”

“That’s because I don’t have a girlfriend,” Yoongi states firmly, rolling his eyes and scooping a spoonful of chocolate fudge ice cream into his mouth.

“But you have a girl,” Namjoon stammers. “I . . . met her.”

This time, it is Yoongi’s jaw that drops. His blood runs cold with shock. “You . . . you met her?”

“Mm-hmm,” bleary-eyed Namjoon mutters. “Believe it or not, Yoongi-ah, my academic connections run deeper than your desire to fly under the radar.” At Yoongi’s confused look, he launches into further explanation. “I have a friend in the English department at Hunsaker College. He’s the professor who advised Y/N on her presentation for this conference.”

“Y/N,” Jimin muses. “That’s a pretty name. I like it.”

“You can’t have her,” Yoongi asserts defensively. “Sorry. That just came out.”

“Ooh, he’s so possessive, too,” Jin laughs. “He’s really in love this time.”

“I am not!” Yoongi crosses his arms, his crystal ice cream dish now empty. “I’m always possessive.”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says, throwing back a shot of Soju he definitely doesn’t need. “But this one’s special. She’s smart. Like, so smart.”

“As smart as you, RM hyung?” Jungkook prompts.

“Of course not,” Namjoon wags a finger at the maknae, hubris showing. “But she’s impressive. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. And she holds up under pressure well. And . . . she seems to understand you, Yoongi-ah.”

“I . . .” he stammers. “How did you find her? And for that matter, how did you find me?”

“Well, I was talking to my professor friend on the phone a while back. He mentioned this Korean rapper who’d apparently shaken up a campus event. I said, ‘What’s his name, I might know who he is.’ And he said, ‘Agust D.’ So in my head, I was like, ‘Whoa, man, that’s Yoongi. Yoongi’s in this tiny college town.’

“So I called him up again a few weeks later, and he was all like, ‘Man, my student Y/N keeps hanging out with this boy. I think he’s distracting her a bit from her senior project.’ So I was like, ‘Oh, describe him to me.’ And he goes, ‘He’s Asian, medium height, pretty skinny, with straight dark hair and pale skin and, like, the world’s tightest black skinny jeans.’ And I was immediately like, ‘Oh, that’s Yoongi.’ So I just put two and two together and . . . here we are.”

Yoongi sits in awe, holding his knees to his chest. He then proceeds to defend his tight skinny jeans as both a decision for fashion and comfort.

As the night grows deeper, and the boys’ energy depletes, they stumble off to sleep. Yoongi curls himself up in one of the hotel beds. Jimin takes the other side.

Just as he’s about to drift off to sleep, he hears a raspy voice say, “You’re probably in love with her, hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes snap open in surprise. “What makes you say that Jimin-ah?”

“Nothing much.” He hears Jimin’s lips part in a smile in the darkness. “Just the look on your face when Namjoon said her name.”

“What . . .” Yoongi searches his memories for the exact moment, but exhaustion prevents him from remembering any significant facial expression on his part. “What did I look like?”

“I don’t know,” 3 AM Jimin speaks slowly, whimsically. “You looked . . . peaceful. Like instead of hearing a person’s name, you were listening to the sound of a waterfall.”

Yoongi’s mind is so worked up, he can barely remember what waterfalls sound like.

But Jimin, unaware of Yoongi’s mental state, continues:

“And I’m pretty sure that’s what someone in love looks like.”

#BTS #BTS fanfiction #BTS fanfic #BTS fic #BTS ff #Min Yoongi x reader #Min Yoongi fanfic #Min Yoongi fic #Min Yoongi fluff #Suga x reader #BTS Suga #Suga fanfic #Suga fic #Suga fluff #You Infire Me

[lovingskysinceforever]

Sky brother was online 😈

He's been busy for a while so he hasn't had time to catch up on sky, so I helped him with the season spirits and ts, his arrival was long awaited

I told him about the upcoming days of nature event, we will be poor 😔

When you have to wait for your sky brother to finish the season spirits

So hi to Sokka, if he sees this then he better be online again soon 🔫

(jk, but good luck with your irl stuff!)

#sky children of the light #thatskygame #sky: cotl #mine #sky brother sokka #he's like one of the oldest friends i have on the app #our entire friendship tree is almost completely filled #btw we get our names from the water trial from season of prophecy because that's when we met 👌 #glad to have him back

[kpopaeipathy]

Relax (Eun Woo Oneshot)

Pairing: Guard! EunWoo x Royal! Reader (gender-neutral)

Genre: Fluff, maybe slightly angst

Word count: 1,987

No warnings

Summary: When Eun Woo wants to protect you, but you just want him to relax and enjoy.

A/N: This was inspired by this prompt.

The mountains that surrounded the city reflected the colors of the sky more clearly, as if they were its own starless, self-lit expanse, lacking only by the hardy winter trees. Looking at them brought a feeling of peace and tranquility, protection even, because no one would dare tarnish such beauty. But it was not the splendor that prevented the invaders.

The few who tried to cross them quickly understood the dangers that probed the ground covered with frozen water in crystalline form. A sound at the wrong time would cause the crime to be covered by the cold, deadly hands of the natural shield of that small royal town.

The entire realm, in fact, was devastatingly beautiful and intimidating, hidden between mountains and valleys, protected by nature more than by guards and armies. They didn't need to get unstuck much to deter invaders and thieves. Never, in all its grand history, had the kingdom of Hanian been so threatened as to demand extra protection from any royal or its subjects.

Therefore, the citizens of Etherna, the royal city, did not understand the gravity of the situation and continued to offer their grandiose balls and banquets, to which the royal family could not refuse to participate, as the flaunting would be more dangerous than the possible invaders.

Also, there was the fact that this city was the most protected and the most difficult to enter or leave. Which in itself was a danger, as escape was unlikely. Even so, they were all gathered in the magnanimous gardens of Lady Khmer's mansion, dancing to flutes and violins.

"Would it kill you to relax?" you provoked your personal guard.

Since before you left the palace, Eun Woo had been alert, rigid, ready to attack anyone who got in your way (which almost happened when one of the guests who had already arrived at the dance drunk bumped into you and fell in front of you). Cha Eun Woo was the best guard in all of Hanian, assigned to you to protect the sole heir to the throne, but the fact that he was inordinately good bothered you a little, mostly because you would do anything to see a smile on his perfectly shaped lips.

“Probably,” he responded to your teasing, still scanning his surroundings as if searching for some hidden killer. “Likely it would kill you too. That's rather the point."

You smiled. Eun Woo's acid humor and straightforward responses were the traits you liked best about him. Of course, you also appreciated the symmetrical face and satin skin, with eyes so expressive they made up for the constant serious and focused countenance. The body was also not to be thrown away, with defined muscles and prepared for any battle.

“I'll risk it,” you said, drawing the guard's gaze to you, and held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

Eun Woo frowned and didn't move, noting the gloved hand in front of him.

Before he even opened his mouth to respond, you already knew what the words would be, so you just spoke before him: "It's an order."

A deep sigh was the only clue to the tormented state of your personal guard, as he remained serious and alert as he gave in to your request and took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor.

The smile on your lips deepened when you saw Eun Woo sigh once more at the scandalized looks of the other guests. It wasn't the first time you decided to shock royalty by dancing with your personal guard. In fact, that was your most common rebellious act and you didn't understand how the nobles and burghers weren't used to it yet.

“Look at me,” you ordered as Eun Woo's dark orbs scanned the hall on your first lap of the track.

He didn't sigh this time, just looked into your eyes and stayed that way for the rest of the time. The muscles were still stiff under your hands, a clear indication that he was still prepared to jump in front of an arrow to defend you.

“I'm not going to tell you to relax,” you stated, realizing that your words had exactly the opposite effect.

That was your best-known trick, at least between the two of you. After so many years as monarch and personal guard, you and Eun Woo had forged a kind of friendship that no one in the realm understood. Sometimes even you didn't understand. However, you came to appreciate the man in front of you so much that you used every resource in your power to make him relax and have fun whenever you could. Eun Woo never complained, not even to his companions, who often blurted out near you that Eun Woo had already commented on appreciating your dedication to his mental health.

He had never questioned you either. From the first time you had tried to make him relax, Eun Woo had accepted your orders like any other, as if your every word mattered. Until this moment, of course...

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his husky voice invading your senses and raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

"I don't like to see you so stiffened."

"I have a duty here, Your Highness." Despite the firm tone of voice, you could feel that he was dancing calmly, as you intended. “If anything happens to you because I was careless for a minute…”

“Nothing will happen,” you interrupted him. “We are in the most protected kingdom in the world, in the most difficult city to penetrate. I have the best guard ever.”

“None of this is a guarantee…”

“If someone breaks a plate somewhere, you will stop your steps, put me behind your back, and verify who was responsible so you can kill or forgive. If a hum invades the melody that surrounds us, you will scan the surroundings with those deep eyes and find the reason to decide whether to hide me or continue dancing.”

"Your Highness..."

“I'm well protected,” you wouldn't let him speak and stiffen again. After all the turmoil your kingdom was going through, you and Eun Woo, as well as everyone in the royal family, deserved that night's rest. "I have you so I'm fine."

He sighed again, this time more softly. And for a split second, you saw the corners of his beautiful lips move upwards as if they were trying to smile.

“You overestimate me,” he said, causing you to snap back to reality and stop dreaming of a completely relaxed Cha Eun Woo.

“No, I'm a realist. It's different,” you replied, still smiling.

You were silent again, enjoying the last chords of the waltz that lulled you. Eun Woo was by far the best dance partner you've ever had and the fact that you talked and interacted in those few minutes made it the dance you'd most enjoyed in your entire life.

When you left the dance floor and returned to the secluded and sheltered corner you were at before, you treasured that night even more, as it was the first time Eun Woo had held your hands together for so long after the dance. He only released you when you were stopped and alone again.

“Your Highness,” he called softly, drawing your eyes to the perfect face that didn't even resemble that of a royal guard. "I appreciate your concern and I admit that perhaps I overreacted tonight."

Even though your eyes widened at the unexpected words, you managed to control yourself in time to joke and say, "Perhaps?"

This time, contrary to everything you knew and recognized about Cha Eun Woo, the smile rehearsed on the dance floor actually appeared on the guard's face, reaching his dark eyes, which thinned as they smiled along with his lips. Your heart raced in such a way that you thought you were having a cardiac arrhythmia.

"As I was saying," he continued, keeping the corners of his lips raised and your heart pounding, "I may have overreacted tonight, but I need to ask you not to distract me again."

“What? Why?" You didn't understand. You even won a smile with your endeavor, how could he not want you to do that again?

"I cannot lose you."

Frustrated, you took a deep breath and huffed, clenching your hands into fists before you began gesturing as you said, "I already told you, I know I'm well protected..."

"You'll always be," it was Eun Woo's turn to interrupt you, "that's not the point."

"Then what is?" you asked, moving closer to him when you noticed the smile leaving that face you cherished so much. "Why can't you just have a little fun with me?"

“But I have fun with you all the time…”

“Eun Woo…”

“Your Highness,” he spoke pointedly, cutting off any argument that began with his name that would make him keep silent if you ordered him to. "I wouldn't forgive myself."

“What are you talking about?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

Again, he sighed. Then, once again contradicting your expectations and shocking anyone who looked at you, including yourself, he placed his hands on your shoulders to stop the advance you kept making towards him. But he kept you close enough that the whispered words that came out of his mouth could only be heard by you.

“I can, yes, pay close attention to my surroundings and protect you faster than any other royal guard, but even I have my limits, and having you in my arms, looking at the smile that paints your face, is a very powerful distraction.” Once again, your eyes widened at the words. “At any other day, any other time,” he continued, “I wouldn't mind not resisting you. But we are facing a unique threat, an enemy that knows how to penetrate our defenses that should be impenetrable. I can't afford the distraction. If I lose you, I won't forgive myself.”

That was definitely the longest speech that Cha Eun Woo had given you in all your years together. Not only because there were so many words, but also because there was still so much he was saying between the lines. And it was everything you've dreamed of hearing since setting eyes on that perfect-in-every-way guard.

You knew you could never ask for more from him than that, knew you could never get what you really wanted from him because it wouldn't be fair for you not to be able to give it back. Your eyes filled with tears at the realization that you couldn't respond to unspoken words. Your lips trembled with the force you took to hold back the answer that was on the tip of your tongue. You loved him. With all your might. Nor would you forgive yourself if you lost him.

So you understood and accepted his argument, nodding once firmly so that he could see that you were agreeing without saying anything. Eun Woo watched your face and opened his eyes a little wider than usual, in his own expression of surprise, before reluctantly releasing your shoulders and taking two steps away.

“I promise not to distract you anymore,” you finally managed to say.

"Thank you," he muttered, looking away from you and taking in his surroundings.

Once again, you looked at the icy mountains that surrounded the city and wished that protection was enough to bring peace to Eun Woo's mind and body, you prayed to any of the gods that the threat would be neutralized so that your guard could relax in your arms again.

You smiled then, looking back at Eun Woo, who once again had the mask of concentration and seriousness on his face.

"But can't we even take a walk in the gardens?"

"Sure," he responded to your teasing, "I can put a target in your head too if you like."

The acid humor was still the man's best feature.

#kpopscape #ultkpop #kdiarynet #eunwoo #astro #cha eunwoo #lee dongmin #eunwoo fanfic #eunwoo fluff #eunwoo imagine #eunwoo writing #astro fanfic #astro fluff #astro imagine #astro writing #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop imagine #kpop writing

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. “Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

#nessian #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #nessian fanfiction #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar #feysand

[wrenhyperfixates]

Stay the Night

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Your fear of thunderstorms leads you to invite Loki to stay the night at your place. Warnings: none A/N: Happy reading :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

It was raining. No, that was an understatement. It was pouring; torrents of water attacked your house. You thanked the powers that may be for letting you get your leak fixed last month. You didn’t mind the rain, not really, but this was just depressing. And the strength of the storm was a little scary, too. The claps of thunder seemed to rattle the very foundation of your house, and you jumped a little every time. There was only one thing making the relentless downpour bearable. Loki.

“Darling?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “Is there something wrong?”

You tried to relax your visibly tense body. “Yeah, I’m ok. Totally fine.”

He looked unconvinced, but kept his skepticism to himself. No need to pry, he supposed. He took your hand in his and used his thumb to rub circles on the back of it. He hoped it would help calm you. There was a time he never would have been so bold as to initiate contact, but you changed that. You’d shown him it was ok to do. With you it was, anyway.

As another boom of thunder filled the air, you squeezed Loki’s hand tighter. He gave you another concerned look. He wasn’t very fond of thunderstorms himself, and he wondered if the same thing was plaguing you. The thought reminded him of his brother, and then the Tower. He really should be getting back home, but how he so hated to leave you, his precious mortal.

You’d met him one day in the Tower. You were the receptionist on the first floor, and more often than not, Loki chose just to teleport in and out. At that time, it had only been a month since you’d gotten the job, and you’d yet to see the god. For whatever reason, he decided to use the front door that day. You stopped him as he tried to walk through the security measures without checking in.

“Excuse me, sir,” you’d said. “I’m going to need to see your Tower ID.”

“Oh, darling,” he’d said. “I do not think I need any verification. Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Loki of Asgard.” He’d bowed and placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“And I’m in charge of this reception desk,” you’d replied, puffing up your chest and blocking his way. He laughed a little. “And I need some ID.”

“Very well,” he’d sighed. As he searched for the little card, you let out a breath of relief. You’d never had this trouble with any of the other Avengers. He finally found it and presented it with a charming smile. “Aha! Here we are, darling. Are we all good here then?”

“Yup,” you said, swiping him through. “Have a nice day, Loki of Asgard.”

“And to you too, but I do not think I caught your name.” You gave it to him, and he’d repeated it with yet another smile. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

“Me too,” you responded with a shy grin back at him.

He made sure to always use the door after that, usually waiting until he got to the desk to pull out his ID, giving him a chance to chat with you. Your friendship quickly blossomed, and you both developed feelings for each other. Not that either of you would admit it out of fear the other wouldn’t feel the same.

Right now, he would just teleport home, since your friendly face wouldn’t be there to greet him with a smile. He didn’t really want to go, but he also didn’t want to overstay his welcome. You hadn’t given him any reason to think he had, it was just his nature to believe that was so.

“I had better take my leave before it gets too late,” he told you, making to stand up.

“No!” you shouted with an unexpected urgency. “Uh, what I mean is that you shouldn’t go out in this storm. Why don’t you stay the night here? If that’s not weird, of course.”

His heart beat a little faster as you desperately clung to his hand. Of course he could tell you that it was no trouble; with his magic, he wouldn’t have to set foot outside. But he could tell this was about something more than you were saying. Besides, who was he to turn down some more time with you?

“It is not weird at all, darling,” he replied, getting comfortable on the couch once more. “It sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

He brought his arms around you and hugged you to his chest, gently running his hand up and down your arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. From the way you relaxed against him, he supposed that it was. As the episode you were watching finished, you flipped through the channels and landed on the Food Network. The food on the screen caused an embarrassingly loud grumble in your stomach, but Loki just beamed at you.

“Are you hungry, darling?” he asked. “Perhaps I could make us a snack?”

“I’m the host,” you replied, with a shake of your head. “I should be providing the food.”

“How about we make it together then?” he suggested. “What would you like?”

“I’m craving nachos right now, if that’s fine with you.” You were met with a blank stare. “Do you not know what nachos are?” you exclaimed in disbelief.

“I am afraid I do not,” he chuckled. It never ceases to amaze you how there was always some other new Midgardian food to introduce him to. “I will gladly try them, though. You will have to take the lead on the cooking, of course.”

You nodded your head and led him to your kitchen, pulling out the ingredients you’d need. You cooked the chicken while Loki cut up the tomatoes and lettuce. You instructed Loki on how to prepare the rest of the toppings while you melted the cheese on the chips. All the delicious aromas filling the kitchen only served to make your stomach growl louder. You sheepishly giggled as the both of you loaded up the plate with everything you’d made.

“Are they ready, then?” Loki asked. “Should I try it?”

You excitedly nodded yes. He picked up a chip with all the toppings on it. He sniffed at it before closing his eyes and taking a delicate bite. His eyes shot open in excitement as the flavors exploded on his tongue. He quickly polished off the rest of the chip.

“It is delicious, darling! You are quite the talented chef, you know.”

You shifted your weight, never sure how to react to a compliment. “Thanks, Loki. You are too.”

He gestured to the plate, and you took your first bite. As you stood at the counter, chatting and eating, you almost forgot about the storm raging on outside. Well, that was until you finished the dish, and thunder sounded once more, the rain attacking with a revived fury.

“Do you wish to go to bed now?” he inquired, mistaking your masked fear as exhaustion. “I hope I have not kept you up.”

“No, not at all,” you were quick to reassure him. “Actually, I want to stay up a while longer. We could even make a pillow fort! That is if, uh, if you wanted to.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea, darling.”

You’d introduced him to the notion the first time the two of you were up late together, and he’d taken to it immediately. You’d suggested he should be the prince of the fort, but he’d insisted that you take on the role of monarch. He did the same now as you gathered the pillows, blankets, and cushions, setting to work building your haven on the floor and couch.

“Well, darling,” he said, leaning back and pulling you with him, “I think we did a pretty good job.”

“Even better than last time,” you agreed.

As you turned the TV back on, you found you were more interested in studying Loki’s face than watching the movie he’d picked. He was so beautiful, down to every last detail. Realizing the sheer number of times his perfect, pink lips had formed the word darling made your heart skip a beat or two. He’d been saying it since he first met you, but it was different now; softer, more caring. He thought what was actually a thrill induced shiver was a sign that you were cold, and carefully draped a blanket around your shoulders, holding you even closer than before.

“Are you truly feeling alright?” he fretted. “You are not feeling ill, are you?”

“No, Loki. Don’t worry. I’m totally and completely fi-”

Thunder cut off your sentence once more, and you whimpered, confirming his suspicions from earlier. Before you could explain the involuntary reaction away, Loki cupped your cheeks and looked deep into your eyes.

“Darling!” he exclaimed. “You are afraid of the thunder.”

“I am,” you wailed, burying your head in your hands as his arms wrapped around you. He held your head to his chest, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. “I am. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nonsense. I am rather terrified of it, too. Far too many unpleasant memories of Thor’s temper tantrums and combat training,” he grimaced. “Does it carry the same kind of horrid association for you?”

“Mhm. When I was a kid,” you said, taking a deep breath, “a bolt of lightning struck the tree in my front yard. It fell over, and the entire house was soon engulfed with flames. My family and I were all ok, but it was scary.”

“And understandably so!” he comforted you. “I am so sorry you went through something so horrid. I promise you are safe here with me, though. I will never let anything harm you.”

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, only to bury it back in the crook of his neck at another clap of thunder. He rubbed your back again and comfortingly shushed you as you whimpered more, reassuring you that you would be alright. That he would make sure of it. All of a sudden, that was the only noise you were hearing. Well, that and the TV. Everything else went quiet. You dared to peek up, and saw Loki smiling at you, but with concern in his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked, perplexed by the sudden silence of the storm outside.

“I have cast a spell. A bubble of silence of sorts,” he replied. “It is a talent I developed for when things get really bad.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“You are welcome,” he whispered as you snuggled closer to him. He placed a kiss to your head and immediately feared he’d overstepped. “I am sorry, darling. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable.”

“On the contrary,” you said, pecking him on the lips, “I wouldn’t mind more.”

He recovered quickly from his shock and moved to kiss you again. It was sweet and gentle, yet you were drowning. Drowning in his scent, his taste, his everything. But you didn’t mind. If the air was taken from your lungs, this was a good way to go.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, a radiant smile gracing your face.

“And I you, my darling.”

As you kissed again, you thought that thunderstorms might not be that bad, after all.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n

[dreamsfreckles]

[7:21p.m.] A Couple of Whipped Besties, One Could Say...

~

Sapnap x reader

Fluff

A couple of sus betsies - enjoy!

~

Sapnap smiled proudly at the beautiful view in front of him: you sitting in his gaming chair, beating the shit out of George on a minecraft PVP server.

Naturally, as Sapnap’s best friend, today marked your third night sleeping over at his house, the usual.

You two simply couldn’t get sick of each other.

Sure, he was annoying and relentless sometimes, and maybe you were a bit stubborn and moody; but regardless, both of your personalities clashed and complimented each other perfectly - creating a close friendship. 

Even though your friendship was his most precious treasure, Sapnap couldn’t help but be dissatisfied with it. 

Not because he wasn’t happy with you... but because he wasn’t happy with you. 

incase you need further elaboration:

Sapnap done went and caught feelings for you. (no earnings)

Leaning over your left shoulder as you gamed, Sapnap side-eyed your facial expressions as you passionately played on the computer monitor in front of you, flexing your weirdly amazing skill at PVP.

He admired you; you looked cute while concentrated. Critting George’s player with your diamond axe was Sapnap’s favorite sight to see. Your eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit and your eyes shined as you attempted to predict George’s next move. 

Not to mention you were also hot as fuck. Sapnap didn’t need to admit that though...

Not only were you his cute best friend, but you were also a super skilled player. He seemed to get the best of both worlds when it came to you.

You can be risky, fun, daring and stupid, but at the same time smart, soft, sweet, and safe. It’s rare to have someone as unique and different as you. You were irreplaceable. 

It also just makes things 1000x better when you’re the reason George regrets his entire PVP career.

Sapnap leaned back into his spare chair, laughing in disbelief at you mercilessly owning George in the game. He could hear George’s screams of absolute terror leaking from the headset on your head; his headset. (dollar tree)

Goddamn he’s whipped. (what a shrimp)

The headphones were a little big on you, which added to the cuteness. Sapnap secretly peered at you love-sickly, sighing in content. It was rare for him to be completely in a haze by you simply doing nothing; for some reason you had him completely under your control today.

Your sudden yell broke Sapnap from his trance and brought his attention to the monitor showing the signature “victory” screen. You squealed hopping up from your chair and doing a small victory dance, laughing at George as he wallowed in defeat. You turn to Sapnap, a wide smile on your face. “Were you watching that? George is SHIT!” You laughed. Sapnap shook his head in disbelief. “Have you been practicing? I have to get you to duel Dream... I doubt you could beat him though. Gogy is just trash.” You giggled with Sapnap at his open criticism towards George, while the trash PVP player on the call scoffed and mumbled incoherent curse words. (ignoring the fact Sapnap lowkey called you trash)

“Well,” you start, relaxing back into his gaming chair. “I’m kind of hungry now. Do you want to go get Chick-fil-a or something?” Just before Sapnap could respond, he was rudely interrupted by George screaming on his headset. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET CHICK-FIL-A?!” The headphones rung. “Are you trying to get cancelled Sapnap?” George joked, making literally no one laugh. You glanced at Sapnap in amusement. His face is twisted in playful annoyance as he ends the call with George. “I guess George is right... Don’t want our precious Sappy getting cancelled.” Sapnap scoffs and rolls his eyes at you playing along with George, a smile on his face. You smirk evilly, standing up to walk across his room to grab your purse. “Whelp, looks like you gotta get your own fast food.” You sling your purse over your shoulder and start heading towards his bedroom door.

Sapnap’s eyes widen at your statement. There’s no way he’s letting you go along with George’s stupid-ass joke.

Before you could leave, Sapnap scrambled to wedge himself between you and his door, stopping you from exiting the room. “Um? You’re dog water if you think you’re pulling that bullshit on me?” He sasses, backing you away from his door.

You hold in your laugh and shrug, putting up a serious face. “We should probably have a break from each other anyway... Why don’t you go out and get McDonald’s instead? I’ll be back in like,” you check your phone for affect. “Like 45 minutes.” You state, looking back up to his pretty eyes filled with betrayal.

Sapnap is frozen. He didn’t think that this Chick-fil-a joke would actually be taken some-what seriously. You wanted time away from him? What the fuck? You two have always been clingy to each other! You can barely go to his fucking kitchen by yourself! 

He took a second longer looking into your shining eyes. Then it all clicked.

You little rat. How cruel are you to be playing with his little heart like that?

Sapnap could turn this situation around in a few different ways.

1.) He could call out your cap right now and you two would go out and get your chick-fil-a, or whatever you want to eat.

2.) He could football tackle you to the fucking ground and make you apologize for saying such buffoonery.

3.) He could go along with your cruel joke, and make you think that he 100% agrees that you two “need to take a break.” He can even go as far as calling it a night and telling you that he’s too tired for another sleepover night.

Sapnap was never the merciful type. As much as he is unconditionally in love with you, he don’t play. 

Option 3 was game.

Sapnap looked up and to the side, pretending to think about your suggestion of “taking a break” like it was a valid choice. Stepping away from his place in between you and the door, Sapnap motions for you to go. “You know what, you’re kinda right. You can go ahead, I think I’m going to call someone.” Sapnap whips out his phone from his back jean pocket and turns away from you, pretending to scroll through his contacts.

This makes you stumble for a second. Did he just... agree with you..? Your heart stops beating for a split second and you debate if you should tell him that you were joking or not. You can barely go to the kitchen by yourself, why isn’t he catching on that it was a joke? You stand still there, looking at his turned back. “Okay... I’m just going to go then.” You say, still not making a move to leave. After a moment of him not acknowledging a word you just said, you start again. “Do you like...” you pause. “want me to bring you back something...” Sapnap turns back to you at that, suddenly deciding to pay attention to you. “Uh no thanks, I’ll just eat something here. You should probably call your mom, she probably wants you home. You’ve been here for what-” he checks his phone for the date. “Like 4 days?” He states, looking back up to you.

Your mouth drops. Hurt fills you heart. Did he really just say that?

Yeah... you have been at his house for a while... but you didn’t think that he was getting sick of you. You usually stayed over there for 4 nights on average before you went home.

You’ve stayed there for 6 days before! And you both STILL mourned the loss of each other’s presence when you left!

(Isn’t this simp culture?)

What does this mean? You stand there is silence just looking at him. It’s not like you could argue; you were the one who said you needed a break first.

You felt like crying. Yes... Sapnap is your best friend and this literally isn’t that big of a deal, but... you love Sapnap. You’d spend forever with him if you could. And you thought he would too. You stiffen for a moment. You know he isn’t your boyfriend; as much as you wish he was, you need to stop acting like he is. 

Him saying he wants to be alone shouldn’t be that big of a deal to you! You guys are friends! He’s standing there, looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to go on, do anything.

While you stand there debating your life choices with hurt written all over your face, Sapnap’s mind is racing a million miles an hour. He literally can’t decide if he should burst out laughing from how well his plan worked or hug you and say sorry for being so mean.

He literally can’t decide - so he does both.

Just as you feel your eyes getting the tinniest bit glassy, Sapnap roars with laughter and pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing your waist with one arm and using the other to pet your hair fondly. “I’m so sorry, I had to, it was too good, that literally couldn’t have gone better-” he rambles. You immediately sulk and smack his shoulder, aggressively hugging him back. “YOU ASSHOLE I GOT SO SCARED!” You groan in embarrassment. You literally almost cried.

Sapnap giggles and hugs you tighter, his smile couldn’t possibly get wider. You sigh in relief, snuggling into his arms. “You actually scared me so bad. That was so weird.” Sapnap laughs again, leaning back from you slightly to get a look at your pretty face. You were pouting. Cute. Sapnap smirked and squeezed your cheek with the hand that was previously petting your semi-tangled hair. “You did it to me first you dimwit, what the hell did you think I felt like?!” He exclaimed. “You literally told me to go home you asshole!” You exasperated. Sapnap threw his head back laughing, pulling you back towards him again. He nuzzled into the side of your neck, sighing happily.

As hilarious as it was watching you go through the 5 stages of grief over this situation, it was also heart breaking all at the same time. He hopes he never has to see that again on a serious note, if he’s being honest. If you ever looked like that when you guys were being legit - it would quite literally kill him.

After what felt like 20 minutes of hugging, you pulled back from the hug and looked up at Sapnap, his arms still attached to the ends of your sweatshirt, keeping you in place. 

As he stared down at your pink cheeks and flustered expression, he felt like he could stand with you here for hours. He wishes he could kiss you.

You rolled your eyes at him as he giggled. “Whatever.” You state, walking out of his hold and over to his bed side table. Sapnap watches your movements in confusion. Once at the table, you open the top drawer and snatch his wallet from inside, your back facing him. “I’m getting fucking Chick-fil-a and if you don’t come, I’m literally going to buy the entire menu with this.” You turn facing him and hold up his wallet. Sapnap’s eyes widen in realization at what’s in your possession. He makes a move to run over to you and snatch it back. Unluckily for him, you were already bolting out the door and to his car.

Hello 🥺

I hope u enjoyed sorry it took so long hehee

I’ve had lack of motivation, as we all in this tough pandemic - I hope you guys are all doing well and stay happy and safe 💕

Thankfully we have our fav mcyt gang to help us through tough times :)

Ik sapnap says fuck you, but think of it in an endearing way LOL LOVE U GUYS

#This explains why it’s so controversial to eat (or even mention) Chick-fil-a. #sapnap #sapnap imagine #nick sapnap #Dream Team #dream team fluff #dream team scenarios #sapnap fluff #sapnap scenarios #sapnap blurbs #sapnap dream team #mcyt #myct fanfiction #mcyt imagine #sapnap fanfic #dream team imagines #georgenotfound #dream #dreamwastaken #badboyhalo #sapnap x reader #dream smp #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs #minecraft youtubers #block men #sapnapxreader

[fatefulfaerie]

Domesticity

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #5/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 1,951

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild 2 (post)

Additional Prompts Followed: Hearts, Family

No Trigger Warnings

“Is one of us dying?”

The feast was definitely unsettling to Wendie, and although she was mostly joking, she couldn’t help but think that such a nice dinner at such a random time of the year was odd. Of course her dad was a great cook, but this was a step above, despite there being no family birthdays for at least three months and no holidays for five.

“No,” her mother said as she placed on the table a large bowl of goat-buttered mashed potatoes, one of Wendie’s favorite foods. She had said it with a slight motherly laugh and a warm smile. “No one is dying. We’re just having a family dinner.”

The mother, who went by the name Zelda, had aged gracefully over the past twenty years, blonde hair highlighted with streaks of white that her husband would often call angelic and ethereal when she would doubt her beauty. At the moment, her age-hued hair was swept into a single braid behind her head, messy yet secure.

“Our family dinners aren’t usually this elaborate,” Wendie observed. “You made mashed potatoes and seafood rice balls—which is Elyjah’s favorite food—grilled carrots, meat pie, mushroom skewers and you have an apple turnover on the counter for dessert!”

“Nothing gets past you,” her father said, putting a bowl of baked and salted radishes on the table. His blue eyes looked over to Zelda. “I think we raised them too smart.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda said, walking forward and using the rag that was just draped over her shoulder to wipe a smattering of flour off of Link’s forehead. “Where’s Elyjah?”

Wendie made a sound that sounded a lot like a lazy “I don’t know” while shrugging her shoulders where she sat at the table.

“He can just eat when he gets home,” Wendie reasoned. “There’s more than enough food.”

Wendie didn’t see her parents exchange glances, the seventeen-year old not caring in the slightest that her twin brother wasn’t here to ruin her first dibs on dinner.

“I’ll try and find him,” Zelda said with a sigh, Wendie looking back up at her parents. Link nodded as Zelda departed. Wendie once again questioned what was going on.

“Ly!” The father and daughter heard outside, Zelda from just the doorstep of their modest Hateno home calling out to the entirety of Hyrule. Link sat down across from his daughter, elbows on the table and arms folded into each other. The deep thought he was in concerned Wendie greatly. He wouldn’t even meet her glance. Was she in trouble?

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

Elyjah.

Of all the people to be in trouble, surely it was him. He had never gotten into anything truly bad but he was the biggest prankster in Hateno. The only shop he wasn’t banned from was the dye shop. The green-eyed troublemaker was here nonetheless and Wendie prepared herself for another fun show. Zelda moved to sit down next to Link at the table but Elyjah stopped as soon as he saw the table, mouth popped open and body frozen.

“Is someone dying?”

He had looked over to his sister when he asked the question.

“Yeah,” she said. “You.”

“What?” Elyjah asked, almost believing it.

“Wendie, that’s enough now,” Zelda said, before looking over to her son. “No one is dying. We would just like to talk to you both.”

Elyjah sat next to Wendie with the same bewildered look as her, trying to figure out what it was before their parents spit it out. It was like Hylia’s Day presents except they didn’t have a good feeling about this, especially when Link took Zelda’s hand and looked at their children, ready to address them.

And yet it was Zelda who started.

“Do you two remember the fairytale we used to tell you?” Zelda inquired, her voice shaky. “The bedtime story? Of the princess and the knight?”

Neither Elyjah nor Wendie had any clue of the relevance, but they both remembered the tale well.

“The one with the weird ending?” Wendie asked nonetheless. “Where he rescued her and then that was it?”

“Yeah,” Elyjah said. “Didn’t they just stare at each other in silence? After all they had been through, it seemed like there should have been more.”

Link dove his hand into his forehead.

“Zelda, you could have given them a better ending,” Link suggested.

Zelda scoffed and put her hands on her hips.

“It was a lesson in imagination,” she said. “And clearly none of you have any.”

“But that’s besides the point…” Link said, prompting Zelda in a different direction.

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding at Link and returning her gaze to their children, confused as ever. And yet she smiled at them.

“You both have grown up so fast,” Zelda said. “We both love you very much and cannot believe that you have blossomed right before our eyes into adults.”

Zelda’s smile became sad and she bowed her head.

“You see it’s a lot easier to lie to children.”

Wendie’s brow furrowed.

“Lie…” she repeated from her mother.

When Zelda’s head tilted back up, green was glazed with waves of coming tears, making the emeralds that Link fell in love with a hundred years ago shine even brighter.

“That fairytale…” Zelda said. “The princess who used her sealing power to keep away Calamity Ganon and the knight who slept in a ruined Hyrule for a hundred years in order to recover from his injuries and save her…”

Zelda stopped herself. Twenty years of keeping it in and it seems it wanted to stay in. She wrestled with her conflicted heart, kept it at bay long enough for her to blurt it out.

“It’s true,” Zelda said, no weakness in her voice, no lie, no apprehension. “The knight and the princess really did fight the calamity, really did survive a century to see it through and then some. Once they tracked down the cause of the anomaly, destroying the true form of Ganon, they settled down in Hateno. They got married and eventually gave life to twins, a boy and a girl.” Zelda’s eyes were proud as she looked upon her children, although they glistened with tears. Her heart hurt to see their faces in shock, but the outspoken truth felt better than she could have imagined. She felt Link’s grip tighten around her fingers.

“You both have royal blood in you,” Zelda said. “Even though I stepped away from the throne in the search of a simpler, more fulfilling life, you both still have claim to the titles of Prince Elyjah and Princess Wendie. We wanted you to know in case that path would prove fulfilling for you and…well, now that you’re adults you have the right to know the truth.”

Wendie stood up and walked out of the house, her parents not daring to stop her. Elyjah, however, just sat in shock, piecing it all together in his mind. Link and Zelda both could see his green eyes working, much like his mother’s did when she went over schematics or theorized about plant life.

“The story,” he finally started, “everything you went through…the pressure…you wanted to protect us from that…you wanted to give us the childhood you never had…that neither of you had.”

Link nodded.

“That’s right.”

Elyjah pursed his lips and nodded. Sometimes he was just like his dad. He shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, replacing his empty plate with the one filled with the seafood rice balls meant for the whole family. “Cool,” he continued, or at least it sounded like the word “cool”, his mouth mostly filled with rice.

Link raised his eyebrows and looked over at Zelda.

“Apparently we’re…cool.” Link said the last word as if it were completely foreign.

“Not all of us,” Zelda reminded her husband. She started to stand up. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Yet Link placed a hand on her arm.

“I’ll go,” Link said. “You stay and enjoy the food.”

Link found his daughter on the banks of Firly Pond, knees hugged close to her chest and water lapping at her bare toes.

At first he waited with his hand on the bark of the near apple tree, pursing his lips. Sometimes he was thrust back in time twenty years, when he felt he had no idea how to be a dad. This was one of those moments.

Link saw in his mind’s eye Wendie’s big blue eyes staring up at him, stubby arms reaching for him. He smiled. She grew up so fast.

“I know you’re there,” he heard Wendie say. She didn’t turn her head away from the pond. “Did you come to give me a speech?”

Link walked towards her.

“Maybe.”

He sat down next to her and Wendie only gave him the smallest of glances.

“I feel like I don’t know my parents at all,” she finally said.

Link nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”

Wendie looked over to his profile, trying to ascertain how he could be serious. The calamity was real and her parents fought it. Sheikah technology really could heal fatal wounds and the goddesses power really was wielded by a mortal, not to mention her own mother, who never seemed like a princess in the slightest. Her father was a knight in a kingdom that really did exist and she?

Well she was a princess. This whole time, she was a princess. The girl who was called the “ugly duckling” of the family as a child was a princess in peasant’s clothing. She almost wanted to go brag to the town, but that seemed petty for just a small ounce of appreciation from the people her age who used to tease her when they would play as children.

Her parents were legends and in comparison, what was she?

Definitely not a princess.

“You know us as what we became after everything we went through,” Link finally said, having taken the time to get his words together. “The people we were before…”

He hesitated.

“We were nothing more than what the kingdom wanted us to be…statues, legends, weapons…we were never fully ourselves, and we could never afford to be ourselves with an entire kingdom looking at us to save them from a calamity. The slivers that were left of us found a friendship in each other, one that grew into love in time. After everything was settled, we began to truly find ourselves, basking in the freedom to do so. It’s something that usually occurs in a fifteen year old but your mother and I were a hundred and twenty years old when we solved the identity crisis. She did not want to be royalty and I did not want to be a knight. When we finally did not need to be those things, we took our first breaths as Link and Zelda. We wanted our children to take those breaths from the very second they were born, and that is why we let you grow up before we told you the truth. We wanted royalty to be an option for you two, not a necessity. We wanted you to become yourselves, not tiny versions of us. I only hope we have…at least I think we have.”

Wendie smiled.

“You have,” she said. “If you want your daughter to have absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life.”

Link brought his daughter closer by hugging her far shoulder, bringing her close enough to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he said. It sounded strange but Link didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “Because finding out your passion for yourself is the most exciting thing in this entire wild land.”

#zelink #zelink week 2021 #zelinkweek2021 #botw #botw 2 #but like twenty years after #hateno

[whereflowersbloom]

Dum Spiro Spero

The leader of the league of shadows and secrets was watching a beautiful creature bathing in sunlight. Shinning ebony hair catching each breath of early autumn’s glinting sunset, a tendril of her hair catching in the wind as it breaks free from an elaborated braid. Raven was kneeling in the garden, hands working the soil, to bring life, making new life grow. Some moments she stopped to enjoy the autumnal breeze on her face, staring into the distance as if caught in between this world and another.

Looking back Damian never thought he would have this. It had never been an option for him. His life was mostly filled with dangers, blood, threats and uncertainty. Wondering if he would live to see the next sunrise or survive enough to watch the following sunset. His life had been filled with hatred. Hatred towards a parent be believed had abandoned him, an enemy that murdered his loved ones who raised him. He did everything in his power to avenge them but he did not feel satisfaction or any kind of gratification after killing him. No. The emptiness did not fade away.

There were times where he was filled with so much regrets. Regret of rejecting his father and not believing in him, that he cared for him. Regret of the days he spent resenting his adoptive brothers for having the chance of a different life. Regret for not being able to love someone freely. Not until her.

The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The same day Damian drew in his first breath of Gotham City air.

An eternity could have passed by in the blink of an eye, breath hitched in his throat, eyes quivering with strong emotion, heart hammering in his chest and yet he would have stared at the sight of her the rest of his days. For it was humanly impossible to get his eyes off of her. It was a view he had been starved of for eighteen years.

He stared because she was light.

She was home. Finally.

Porcelain skin, thick locks of raven hair, piercing, unearthly amethysts struck through his soul. And he felt alive, whole.

He had learned an important lesson. Life was too short, shorter if you’re an assassin, it was too precious. You could never waste a second of it, especially with the people closest to your heart. And he made a solemn promise to his family and himself. He decided to live without regret. To take the opportunities that life handed him and most importantly, he swore to himself that even no matter what happened in the past, the terrible things he had done, his faults and mistakes. He deserved to be happy.

That was five years ago.

It was easy to lurk in the shadows of the their house, a petite, cozy cottage close to the league’s headquarters. In the Kunlun mountains he had found a rustic little gem straight out of a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronté novel, that was how Raven had described it. She had been working on the garden for eight months. There were now fragrant jasmine bushes and two apple trees, one almost completely covered by creamy white climbing roses, clusters of bluebells, foxgloves, pink Hibiscus flowers, pale lavender orchids, and the entire lawn was strewn with white and yellow daisies. In the shadows he knew he would not disturb her reverie. Yet he had been caught, luminous violet eyes wiser than her years cast to where he has hidden with a gentle smile that just pricked the corners of her mouth. “You know I can feel you staring, Damian. The intensity of your emotions is making me go weak.”

Damian couldn’t stop admiring his lover. Because the eyes that followed her were ones brimmed with love, adoration. Stepping into the sunlight, gently he helped her stand up, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will never be weak, beloved. Not because of me or anyone.” Words were spoken softly, his other hand reaching to lift a white lily from the blooming bulbs bed and tucking it right behind her ear. Not too far off in the distance the radiant sun continued arching low in the sky reading to say goodbye and allowing the sky to welcome the moon and stars.

One of his long, tanned hands, cupped her face with delicacy, her body aching desperately for his touch. He placed his remaining hand over her chest. She was aware that Damian could feel the rapid pulse of her heart through skin. “Thought you’re stronger than any other living creature in this universe. There is strength in your goodness, as much as there is in steel and fire.” His emerald eyes were filled with so much joy, so much warmth and devotion, it was endless, everflowing.

Raven barely thought she was breathing, willing her unruly heart to ease a fraction, soothe down its beating instead of racing even after all these years together. Damian gently kissed her temple and murmured against her rosy cheek in a low voice that made goosebumps rise on her tender flesh. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

She licked her lips and pretended to think about it for a moment. “Because I said you were insufferable our first meeting.” She teased. As much as his presence annoyed her at first, she had come to feel comfortable around him, safe, content. The feelings she had tried to contain became harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he carved himself into her heart, something she did not have a name for took root. Every time he saw him, heart fluttered in her chest like a child, and everytime he smiled at her...oh Azar she couldn’t take the clash of ardent emotions. After that something inside her began to loosen, shift, to change. She had been a fool, deceiving herself it was nothing more than friendship.

Everything changed for them and she was infinitely thankful both had put in the effort to help each other overcome their fears. They only required a little push from Dick at the beginning, because both were impossibly stubborn.

Damian chuckled audibly. It was a fascinating sound she thought to herself. His hand trailed along her collarbone, enjoying the smooth texture of her ivory skin, grasping the side of her face. Green orbs bored into violet constellations. He spoke firmly and his features hardened slightly. There was a battle raging behind his green gaze, like he was desperately fighting something inside him. His past. “You did not judge me for my past actions, for the assassin I was raised to be. I was coated in blood, spent my days destroying and taking lives. And yet you found goodness in me.” His deep voice was rough and cracked just a bit.

She had given him five years worth of smiles, laughter, love and so much more. Filling the void inside him after losing his grandfather and mother. She had lifted him up. Damian would never let her go. He refused to. How could he?

“Dum spiro spero.” He breathed, heart thundering in his chest.

He did not have tell her its definition. She knew the meaning of the phrase. She blinked in surprise, her mind automatically translated it. While I breath, I hope.

Interlacing his hand with hers, entwined like a vine to tree, he swallowed hard before continuing. “You are my hope, Raven. When I look at you I see hope.” Raven was this incredible force which had burrowed itself so deeply within him being that there would be no uprooting it. Never.

She found herself voiceless, giving time for his words to sink in. Then she did not have to think about her responses for more than a second. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Raven held his gaze, unwavering, for another minute before speaking. “I know you really look at me and see me for who I am and I hope you know, I will always look at you and I will see someone who despite seeing the worst of it all, is still kind, good, a generous and compassionate soul.”

The raw emotion swimming in his eyes made her want to embrace him for eternity. He loved her. He loved her more than she ever imagined. She felt her own eyes watering, tears running down her cheeks which Damian wiped away with careful motions.

“I would love to be your hope until the end of my days.” She whispered voice thick with emotion, forehead pressed against his. His skin was warmer than hers, she let herself submerge in the lingeringly tender contact. Unable to hold back anymore Damian kissed her ferociously, with starved lips, pouring all his words and feelings into the caress. Squeezing her frame against his, wishing for any distance to vanish, anything that would keep them apart.

“I love you.” He whispered in the most intimate of ways against her mouth.

Damian took her in his arms, carrying her and not wasting time, making his way inside the small cottage. They were two souls in love, hearts beating the same tune, in perfect synchrony.

Happy birthday chromie 🙈🙈🙈❤️❤️❤️

This small oneshot is dedicated to @chromium7sky my closest friend in the fandom.

I hope you all like it though. @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @carnationmilk @bourniebna @srose-foxfire @sofiii

#damirae #demon birds #damian wayne #damian al ghul #raven roth #teen titans #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #slade wilson #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #dc fandom #dc universe #creative writing #league of assassins #damian x raven #dum spiro spero

[ladyanput]

Spots Drawn in Marker Pt.1

Based on the AU by @miraculous-of-salt

(I promise this isn't full on bashing.)

Marinette sighed ever so softly as she tapped her pencil against her sketchbook. Today was not seeming to be an inspirational day and she had a portfolio to finish by the end of the month. 

"And I just couldn't believe that Jagged's concert was almost cancelled. But he called me and I filled him with such inspiration and determination that he just couldn't help but rock out." Lila spoke in an airy, wistful tone that Marinette had no doubt she practiced to get just right. "He said I could even get VIP passes to his next show, thanks to what I did, as many as I want."

Well there goes any and all hope for any inspiration this morning. Lila just leeched any creativity out of any room she's in.

"Do you think I could get one?" Alya piped up, beaming over at Lila as she recorded the entire conversation. "I mean, since we're besties, I'd love an interview with Jagged. Lately he's been very tight lipped about a lot of things."

"Of course, Alya, anything for my second best friend!" Lila hugged the girl, beaming brightly as Alya began posting the recording on her blog.

Marinette merely rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat in the back of the class, going back to sketching her ideas for the morning. A beautiful scarf, maybe a nice warm sweater… Marinette was quickly lost in a world of design, a world she could have control of. It was something she had often turned to after Lila had caused her life to go spiralling into a pit where her friends brushed off her concerns for the lies of a shiny new toy.

Marinette was so caught up in her sketching, that she didn't notice when Miss Bustier came in, guiding along a girl who shared a wink with Lila. If only she had noticed.

"Class, we have a new student joining us today. This is Rébecca, she just transferred to our school today. I hope you will all give her a warm welcome." Bustier beamed at her class as many of her students mumbled clumsy, half-hearted hellos.

 Marinette glanced up from her sketchbook and took a good, long look at the new girl. She was tall, slim, with dark bluish-black hair that reached her shoulders. Marinette could tell by looking  at them that her clothes were Gabriel brand, the skinny jeans clinging to her long, long legs like a second skin, the leopard print top accentuating any curves the girl may have had. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Lila has told me so much about you all!" Rébecca beamed at everyone, and that instantly made Marinette narrow her eyes a fraction, while Rébecca strode over to where Lila and Adrien sat, sending a flirty little smile to the model. "And I heard you're quite the helpful one, of course. I'm so glad you volunteered to show me around today."

Oh, that was it. Lila brought along a croney to try and manipulate Adrien some more, maybe help granduerize her stories. Well, this was certainly becoming a fun class. Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line as Rébecca sat down next to Adrien, causing the boy to be uncomfortably sandwiched between the two girls. It made Marinette's blood boil at how the two girls kept pawing at the model, who clearly wanted to get away, while Alya and the others just cooed and urged it on.

Honestly, this entire class has gone crazy.

Marinette made a move to go down there and get them to stop, but Adrien had looked back at her and given her a look that pleaded that she didn't. That's what he wanted, for her to sit down, shut up, and not cause trouble. It took everything in Marinette not to snap her pencil as Miss Bustier began to lesson.

…

Adrien didn't quite know how to feel about this new girl hanging off of his arm, seeming overly cuddly with him, fluttering her lashes and trying to get most of his attention.

"How exactly do you two know each other?" Alya had asked when she and Nino sat down with the duo and Lila. Lila had only perked up, and got a somewhat secretive smile on her face, while Rébecca let out a soft giggle.

“All I can say is, Alya, that Rébecca is my best friend.” Lila boasted, giving Alya an overly obvious wink. Alya stared at Lila, as if slowly digesting her words before her eyes lit up and her hand shot for her phone.

“You’re serious?!” Alya began to open an app on her phone, but Rébecca reached out a hand to stop her, then gave Adrien a pleading look.

“Adrien, I’m very parched. Do you think you could grab me a soda, please? I would greatly appreciate it.” She slid a hand slowly along his arm, giving him a smile then when their eyes met. 

Adrien opened his mouth, but then nodded and made his way to the lunch line, which had grown fairly sizable as lunch was halfway over.

“You’re Ladybug?!” Alya beamed as she reached out and took Rébecca’s hand, an eager gleam in her eyes. “I knew Marinette was wrong about everything! Can I see the earrings?”

Rébecca nodded and pulled aside her hair from her ear, showing off the black spotted red earring, making Alya practically squeal with delight. 

“I just want to say that I’m so honoured that you chose me to be Rena Rouge.” Alya took Rébecca’s hand, so awestruck that she missed the surprised look Lila and Rébecca exchanged. 

“Well it was Lila that gave me the glowing recommendation.” Rébecca grinned as Alya began practically bursting with excitement as she began dumping question after question on Rébecca, who answered every one with ease, puffing out her chest with pride. Nino even seemed to get into it, thanking her profusely for allowing him to become Carapace, thankful he was able to protect the people of Paris.

    All the while Marinette was seated on the other side of the cafeteria with Rose and Ivan, trying her hardest to design something new for Kitty Section’s concert in a month, completely unaware of the imposter across the room. She was merely smiling as she discussed with Rose the possibility of adding more sparkles to the outfits, while Ivan was increasingly pleading for them not to.

 “Oh come on, they won’t be that bad.” Marinette smirked up at her distressed classmate, playfully sticking out her tongue. “Maybe I’ll even make the costumes neon orange.”

“Don’t you dare..” Ivan growled softly, but any playful banter was cut short by an explosion nearby that shook the school. Many students let out surprised screams as trees seemed to burst from the floor out of nowhere. 

“Hello Paris, I am Dryad, prepare to start tossing away those construction sites you use as excuses to cut down my precious trees!” A voice called out, echoing across the area, and it was then a panic began. Students cried out and began running in various directions, as the branches stretched from the trees and began snatching up various people. 

Adrien ducked off into an alcove, and thinking the coast was clear, transformed and took off, completely unaware of Rébecca watching from around the corner, a stunned look on her face.

…

As soon as school was over, Marinette stretched and let out a soft groan. Her body felt so stiff from that akuma battle earlier, Dryad had been an eco-activist who had been angry that her favourite park had been dozed over to make room for a spa, so she had been an easy target for Hawkmoth.

“Mari, I have to tell you something.” Alya ran up beside her and grabbed her arm, stopping her friend in her tracks. Marinette gave her a smile, though silently wished she were heading home right now for a nap. She just felt so drained after the day, and she wanted to relax with a nice cup of hot cocoa and some cookies with Tikki. 

    “Oh, did you get a new scoop?” Marinette’s smile widened when she saw the eager look in Alya’s eyes, the slight bounce in her step. She knew right away that the young reporter had quite the story if she was stopping Marinette right outside of school. 

    “I sure did, and it’s all thanks to Lila.” Alya grinned, but it quickly dimmed when the smile fell from Marinette’s face. She then huffed and crossed her arms, cocking a hip. “Marinette, this jealous streak of yours is getting annoying.”

    “I’m not jealous, Alya, I’m just tired of you believing her lies, which are so obvious.” Marinette crossed her arms, her own annoyed expression matching Alya’s. 

    “God, I don’t know why I even try with you. You’ll see soon enough what a fool you’ve been, never giving Lila a single chance. When you see my interview tomorrow, you’ll be begging Lila for forgiveness.” Alya said this in the most confident tone she could ever have spoken, making Marinette’s frown then press into firm line. 

    “Alya-” Marinette’s words died as soon as Alya held up a hand and began storming away. The young girl felt a heavy weight in her heart as she watched her best friend walk away. Why did it feel like she was about to walk away from their friendship..?

Marinette shook her head. No, she wouldn't let it come to that! Whatever stunt Lila was trying to pull, it wasn't going to work, Mari refused to back down and let her win, because if Lila won, she'd oh make things worse. She's hurt Marinette's friends, keep using them like she had. And she might even get her hands on Adri-

Adrien. Oh no, that new girl was trying to sink her claws into Adrien too, wasn't she? It just hurt to think about how those two would try and manipulate Adrien. But he wouldn't fall for it right? He knew Lila was a liar, he wouldn't fall for any tricks..

Marinette made her way home, tightly gripping the straps of her backpack, an uneasy feeling rolling in her stomach.

…

Adrien frowned as he was dragged off by Rébecca, who was clutching his arm like a vice.

"Rébecca, what's this about? I have a modeling gig in a few hours, so I can't stay very long.." He tried to point out, stumbling slightly when she abruptly stopped and turned to him, realizing the two of them were in an empty classroom. "Rébecca, is something wrong?"

".. I can't believe it. My Kitty has been before me this whole time.." Rébecca blushed as she slid her hand down his arm, gripping his hand lightly. "I've been so blind."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Adrien blinked in surprise as the girl set her other hand on his chest.

"Don't you recognize me, Chat? Don't you recognize your Ladybug?" She whispered, biting her lower lip. "I guess without the mask, I'm not so special anymore.."

Adrien felt his breath hitch at her words, his mind racing. No, she couldn't be.. Could she?

"I accidentally saw you detransform when I was trying to sneak back into school after our fight with Dryad. I'm sorry, but I thought since I knew, it was only fair to tell you.." She whispered, looking away as if in shame. Rébecca was internally thankful that Lila told her everything she needed to know about Adrien and the class, and was even more grateful she had given into Lila's silly little plan to try and trick the class more. Being Ladybug could be fun, afterall, she always wanted to be famous.

"What, no! M- my Lady, that's not true!" Adrien blurted out the words before he could stop himself, alarmed at the sight of the tears beginning to stream down her face.

"The.. the reason I've been rejecting you is because I've been in love with you, Adrien. And when I found out that you and Chat Noir were the same person, I just couldn't believe it, but it made so much sense" Rébecca leaned closer, their bodies pressing lightly together. "You're right, kitty, we are meant for each other, I was just simply blind to it.. Do you think I could get a second chance, please? I love you, Adrien."

Adrien was silent for the longest time, his mind trying to process all of this. This was Ladybug..? His heart began to pound as she poured her heart out to him, his hopes skyrocketing. She loved him, she really loved him! It felt like his dreams were coming true! Grinning, Adrien leaned close, their foreheads pressing lightly together as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, eyeing her earring before chuckling.

"I love you too, my Lady. We're soulmates, something silly as a misunderstanding could never tear us apart." He murmured, and both of them leaned closer and shared a soft kiss, Rébecca practically preening as she ensnared the gullible model.

…

Marinette huffed softly as she stared at her essay. School had to be built to torture people, there was no way these institutes built up every person of every walk of life, because these essays and term papers were a pain in the butt.

"Tikki, I think my eyes are going to explode.." She groaned as she closed her eyes and rubbed them, feeling the beginnings of a migraine beginning to form.

"It's probably because you stayed up all night." Tikki scolded her, the alarm clock next to Marinette suddenly going off, making the girl jump in her seat.

"Oh no, I'm going to be a total zombie in school today.." Marinette groaned as she put her face in her hands. She hadn't even realized she had stayed up so late, but she had really wanted to finish this dark essay before it became a bigger problem than it was worth. She should have been more mindful.

It was then that her phone beeped. When she looked at the notification, she realized Alya had published that interview she had mentioned yesterday.

"Well, since I'm up on time, I can watch it while I get ready." Marinette shrugged and tapped on the video to play it, and began getting dressed.

Alya was seated in her room, beaming proudly as she sat between Lila and Rébecca.

"Hey guys, it's Alya your lovable Ladyblogger here. I'm here to give you guys the scoop of the century! Over the past year, you've all come to know my amazing best friend, Lila, and her amazing exploits!" Alya grinned as she wrapped an arm around Lila, giving her a quick side up before sitting up again. "Well, Lila has managed to convince someone very special to give me an interview at long last, without her mask."

Marinette watched as she brushed her teeth, raising a brow as she took in Alya's words.

"Everyone, I'd love you to meet our very own Ladybug, finally showing her face, right here, on my blog!" Alya grinned like a cat who had cream.

"I have to say, it's an honour to finally reveal myself to all of you, especially on one of the most important blogs ever. Without you, Alya, I think I'd be lost. You always do the best detective work, and give everyone the greatest stories." Rébecca praised, carefully stroking Alya's ego. "Lila finally convinced me to show myself to the world. You're right, Alya, the world has the right to know.'

Marinette felt the toothbrush drop from her mouth as she stared at her phone screen, the blood beginning to pound through her veins.

"Tikki.." She croaked out after she spit her toothpaste into the sink, her body beginning to tremble. "Oh God, Tikki, she's lying.. She's- she's claiming to be me!"

"Marinette, you need to calm down!" Tikki flew in front of her Chosen's face, panic making her gasp as she saw the tears beginning to well up in Marinette's eyes.

"Why would Alya do that?! I've told her time and time again that I want to keep my identity a secret! It's important to me, it keeps everyone I love out of danger, why would she do this?! Now Rébecca's family could be in danger!" Marinette pulled at her pigtails as her mind began to race.

"Marinette, please, calm down! Maybe you can tell Alya these things at school today! I'm sure she'll listen if you calmly explain these things to you, I'm sure she'll fix it." 

".." Marinette sniffled and wiped away the tears. "You're right, Tikki. Alya has to at least think this is strange, it would be out of character for Ladybug to suddenly out herself like that.."

…

But when Marinette got to school and tried to talk to Alya, the girl merely cut her off and gave her a glare.

"I told you that you'd regret it, Marinette. I told you to try, and look at how things are now, even Ladybug herself thinks you're being unreasonable!" Alya snapped, motioning to where Rébecca sat with Lila, the class all overjoyed to have their wonderful hero Ladybug in that very room! The sight made Marinette feel ill.

"But Alya, Ladybug is always saying how she wanted to keep her identity a secret. Why would she suddenly start exposing herself, while Hawkmoth and Mayura are still at large?" Marinette held out her hands, trying to get Alya to see some kind of reason.

"You know what? I can't believe you're being this selfish right now. Honestly, this is the biggest story I've ever released and you're trying to ruin it!" Alya threw her hands up, catching the attention of a few of their classmates.

"Alya, we're best friends! Please, I just-" Marinette began,but was cut off again by Alya jabbing Marinette in the chest with a finger.

"Exactly, which is why best friends call each other out when they're being unreasonable,when they're making a complete fool of themselves! Look at you, you aren't even looking at the facts, Marinette, this jealous vendetta you have us ridiculous!" Alya snapped, then turned on her heel and stormed away. Marinette was left standing by her desk, her stomach coiling into a nervous ball.

Adrien entered the class not long after, a wide smile on his face. Before he could say anything, he caught Rébecca's eye. The girl stopped talking and abruptly got to her feet and rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the two shared a passionate kiss.

Marinette felt her heart fall to the floor and shatter.

"Whoa, dude, didn't you two just meet yesterday?" Nino looked confused, as did the rest of the class. Inside, Lila was seething with rage, but she maintained a small smile.

"It may seem like that, but.. We've known each other for so much longer. I've been in love with Ladybug ever since I first met her. And it turns out, she felt the same way." Adrien beamed, lovingly kissing Rébecca's cheek.

Marinette began running before she realized she was doing it. She ran passed Alya, who gave her a look that screamed 'you took too long to confess, this is what you get', a confused Adrien, and a grinning Rébecca. She ignored the shouts for her to come back as she ran and ran, the tears streaming from her eyes.

She didn't have the proof, because the last time she had outed a lie as Ladybug, it had had disastrous consequences. And nobody believes her! No one saw the truth!

Marinette ran from the school and kept running, her lungs soon burning, her muscles soon aching, before she found herself into one of the small parks, which was completely deserted.

Marinette fell to her knees beside one of the fountains, burying her head in her arms as she rested against the basin, crying so hard, she soon passed out.

#alya salt #miraculous ladybug #lila salt #fake ladybug #false ladybug au #adrien salt

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Four: You Can Hear it in the Silence

a/n: hello again!! So glad to have you back :) I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. It's been wonderful to read some of your comments and thoughts! I do have to give a special shoutout to @harrysblackcoat and @determined-overthinker for their continued support and feedback, it really means the world to me, so a huge thank you to you both!! I am tremendously grateful for all of you lovely readers and I hope you will enjoy chapter four as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to drop by and chat with me after reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count: 6.7k

read parts one, two, and three 

“You kissed him?” Maleah gasps over FaceTime, her mouth so wide, Alani fears her jaw will detach from its socket. 

She had finally decided to tell her best friend everything, excluding the Rolling Stone details, nearly two days after the last time she had seen Harry. The entire next day had been spent replaying every moment and listening to the recorded interview on her voice notes until the phone battery was completely drained. Alani’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Harry’s voice and it only made her miss him more. The part that she desperately needed her friend’s input on was what had happened immediately before she left. 

“No,” Alani clarifies, quickly. “Well, almost. Maybe—I think,”

“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks,” Maleah starts, brows furrowed as if her brain is malfunctioning. “And you’re already swooping in on my man?”

Alani feels her cheeks warm but she pushes past it and rolls her eyes. “There is no swooping going on,”

“I don’t know. You two were caught in the rain together, sounds like swooping to me,”

“But that’s the thing,” Alani huffs. “I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,”

Maleah nods understandingly and pushes any jealousy out of her mind, the love for her best friend winning out. 

“Well, tell me exactly what happened before the kiss,”

“There was no kiss,” Alani emphasizes, thinking back to the last few minutes spent in Harry’s car. 

The sun had already set when the two of them arrived at her house, leaving little light in the already darkly tinted Range Rover. But even in the darkness, Alani could see the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Their bodies had been close enough in the confined space that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his vanilla scent enveloped her in an intoxicating haze. For a moment, her eyes had darted to his plush lips and she imagined what it would feel like to close the space between them. She could have sworn that he had done the same, finding his eyes wandering just below the tip of her nose when she looked up. Before anything could happen, however, she found herself reaching for the door handle and stepping into the crisp night sky. 

“But did you want him to kiss you?” Maleah questions. 

Alani waits a beat, but she doesn’t have to think about the answer. “Yes,”

“Well there you go!” her friend responds enthusiastically. “Problem solved,”

“Problem not solved,” Alani corrects. “What about the fact that he’s, like, famous? I mean what happens when he has to go back to L.A. or London or whatever?”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,”

Alani anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lower lip, not stopping even when she tastes blood. “But it’s true—” 

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to think about it right now,” Maleah assures her. “What if you just let things happen and… enjoy it for what it is?”

Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning in the last part. “Mi, you and I both know that I’ve never been one to just enjoy it for what it is,”

“I know this, and I love you,” Maleah starts slowly. “But as your best friend—and I say this with nothing but love—you need to get laid, for real,”

Alani groans, slumping further into her mattress. “But what if that’s all he wants? I just don’t think I’m ready for that,”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” her friend coos. “But from what you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like that’s all he’s after,”

Alani considers this for a moment before Maleah continues. 

“Look, let’s start with something simple: do you like him? I mean, do you like spending time with him and just generally being around him?”

“Yes,”

“Then start there,” Maleah suggests. “You can enjoy someone’s company without making it romantic, it’s just friendship. Don’t put pressure on something that you’re not ready for, or something that might not even be there,”

Alani feels a small weight lifted off her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right I shouldn’t psych myself out over something that didn’t even happen. I mean, for all I know he has a girlfriend,”

She waits a beat before a new concern enters her mind. “Wait, does he have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know,” 

“Well even if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Alani reaffirms. “Because we’re just friends,”

“When are you gonna see him again?” her friend asks. 

Alani stomach drops. In all her concentration of the past, she hadn’t even considered what will happen when she has to face him again. “I don’t know,”

“Who initiated the last hang out?”

“He did,” Alani admits, thinking back to the hours he had spent reading in the café until her shift was over. 

Maleah hums. “Well then it looks like the ball’s in your court,”

Alani is quiet for a moment, which her friend takes as her cue to offer some more reassurance. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, Nani, but it’s gonna be okay. Promise, ” 

Alani sighs, kneeling to look out the window next to her bed. 

“No, Mi, it’s okay. I really appreciate you just being there, it means a lot,”

“Of course, babes. Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The call ends and Alani continues watching the palm trees sway in the wind. Will do—the very same last words that she had spoken to Harry that night. Her mind wanders back to the moment right before she had opened the door to escape and plays out an alternative scenario. What would have happened if she had leaned just an inch closer? 

********

Harry pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. Will do, he repeats in his mind— two words that he never knew could carry so much weight. 

“I said ‘I think Manchester United is shit,’” Nick Grimshaw says loudly, shrugging at Mitch and Jeff Bhasker when his plan doesn’t work. “I dunno, that should’ve gotten him,”

“Oh hey, Alani,” Mitch speaks into his phone loud enough for Harry to hear. This piques the singer’s attention immediately, his heart racing. “Yeah he’s right here,” 

“What the fuck?” Harry questions, zeroing in on Mitch. 

“Who’s Alani?” Nick teases with eyebrows raised into his hairline. 

Harry springs from his seat and corners Mitch, who holds his phone above his head. “Gimme the phone!”

“Hello,” Nick interrupts, watching the struggle continue. “Feeling neglected here, who’s Alani?”

The guitarist ducks and sprints to the opposite wall, Harry chasing close behind. They hop from couch to couch and swerve around fragile equipment while Mitch snickers and guards his phone close. Harry had no idea why Alani was calling and why she hadn’t reached out to him directly, but he’s dying to hear her voice again and is growing increasingly frustrated with his friend’s antics. 

“Mitchell, stop fuckin’ around!”

“I’m sorry,” he relents, holding out the phone with an amused laugh. “It wasn’t her, wrong number,”

Harry huffs and returns to his seat disappointedly, a guitar resting in his lap. Nick, who had only been able to drop in for the weekend due to his busy schedule at the BBC, narrows his eyes at both boys before speaking up again. 

“Once again, no one has answered my question.”

“She’s just a girl he’s been hanging out with,” Jeff explains nonchalantly. “He wants to have her babies.”

“Don’t,” Harry warns. 

Despite already having his fun, Mitch can’t resist adding on. “It’s none of our business… but I’ve heard a summer wedding is in the works.”

“I’m gonna go drink now,” Harry announces, standing. “And none of you fuckers are invited.”

He wanders down the hallway and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the tequila. Is it too early for margaritas? he wonders before deciding that he wants a second opinion.  No new texts are displayed on his phone screen, much to his disappointment, but he decides to open the messages app anyway. He carefully types in Alani’s name and writes, then re-writes, the text several times before pressing send. As soon as the tag reads “delivered”, his body is filled with apprehension, but there’s no turning back. 

Harry: Is 10 a.m. too early for margaritas?

There’s a minute of silence, then two, and Harry turns his phone face down onto the counter to reach for the ingredients. It dings just as he opens the bottle of tequila and he immediately lunges for it. 

Alani: Never. Morning margs were invented for a reason. 

Relief. He quickly types out a risky response. 

Harry: Any chance I can convince you to join me?

He stares at the screen, willing the “delivered” to turn into a “read,” but it doesn’t budge. His lips ghost over the rim of the tequila bottle before he bites the bullet and takes a sip. 

Alani: Working :( sorry. Another time maybe. 

Defeat. He knows that “another time maybe” is a polite “never.” Another swig of tequila down the hatch. 

Harry: Yeah, no worries. 

Alani sets her phone down on her nightstand and brings the duvet up to her chin. She hopes with every muscle in her body that Harry doesn’t show up to the restaurant, though if he’s planning on drinking, perhaps she’s safe. Maybe I should do the same. She wonders, thinking about the rosé her mom keeps in the cupboard for special occasions. Surely heartache must be a good enough reason to crack it open. Regardless, Alani doesn’t think she has the stomach to keep it down at the present. 

********

Harry pushes the remaining peas around on his plate with the prongs of his fork. His chin rests in the heel of his hand. 

“And then I said ‘what’s the difference?’” his manager remarks, sending the rest of the group into a fit of wild laughter. 

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Mitch comments through a chuckle. 

The laughter slowly dies down and their eyes all wander to Harry who hasn’t budged for the past twenty-five minutes. They exchange worried glances, and Jeff begins to wonder if  his initial advice for Harry to go out with Alani was a mistake. 

“Hey, H,” he begins gently. “You feelin’ alright?”

Harry looks up from his plate and musters his best fake smile. “Yeah, jus’ tired,”

It was partially true; the crew had spent their entire afternoon at Honoli’i Beach practicing their surfing, though it was mostly unsuccessful for Harry—his life seemed to be a series of wipe-outs these days. 

“I’m gonna go watch a Rom-Com in my room,” he announces, standing with his plate. “Probably doze off.”

The group exchanges “good nights” before Harry saunters down the hall to his room. Settling into the bed, he flicks through the movie selection and clicks on one that he knows by heart. He contemplates texting Alani again, scrolling through their brief conversation from three days ago. Against his better judgment, he types out another message and presses send. 

Harry: Opinion on The Notebook?

He waits, attention briefly occupied by Rachel McAdams until the phone dings. 

Alani: A classic, though not as good as Dirty Dancing if I’m being honest. 

The corners of his mouth curl and he immediately types out another response. 

Harry: You have a problem with The Goss?

Alani snorts, planting her spoon into the pint of strawberry ice cream to reply. 

Alani: First, I have many gripes about you referring to Ryan Gosling as “The Goss”. Second, I was actually rooting for Lon Hammond, but maybe that’s just because I’m partial to James Marsden. And third, the scene where Baby and Johnny are dancing alone in his room. That’s all I have to say. 

Harry hums, hanging on every word. 

Harry: Confession: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing…

Alani: We need to change that immediately. 

His heart pounds. So she didn’t plan on ghosting him forever. 

Harry: So Lon Hammond, that’s your type? 

Alani doesn’t know why she finds it unsettling that Harry steers the conversation away from any possible talk of them hanging out again. She reminds herself that she had been the one to decline his invitation for margaritas and shovels another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. 

Alani: Kind, supportive, successful, handsome? Yeah, I’d say so. Not to mention he forgave Allie for cheating. 

Harry: But Noah built her a house. Her dream house, I might add. 

Alani: I’m not discrediting Noah, I love a grand romantic gesture as much as the next person. Just think Lon deserved better. 

Harry grins, entirely ignoring the movie at this point. Grand romantic gestures, he notes, good to know. 

Harry: And what about the fact that Noah wrote it all down and reads their literal love story to her every time she forgets?

Alani: Maybe he deserves some rights for that. 

Alani taps the spoon against her lower lip and thinks about Cecily’s words. Just let things happen. She desperately wants to, but she doesn’t know how. The thought of getting too close only to let it all slip through her fingers is too overwhelming, so she starts with something simple: do you like spending time with him? Alani doesn’t think she could enjoy anything more. Her mind wanders back to the passenger seat of Harry’s car and the image of his wrist draped over the steering wheel, lower lip captured between his fingers. She had noted this tick early on and found it endlessly endearing. Save for the awkward fifteen minutes of their very first interview, their conversations all seemed to come so easily. Alani enjoys his quick wit and the way he speaks slowly, as if carefully weighing each word. She likes that even though the entire reason for their relationship is for her to learn all that she possibly can about him, he makes an equal effort to get to know her. Alani compares Harry’s sincere reaction to hearing that she was a journalist to David’s snarky remark. Harry had believed in her from the get-go—he had trusted her. He makes her feel seen and known. Isn’t that what it means to be loved? To be known? His words echo in her mind. 

Harry: How’s the article going?

Alani’s stomach drops. Fuck. In all her contemplation over the almost kiss, she had forgotten the truth behind her motives. She had lied. Harry had trusted her, and she had lied. Not yet, she thinks, I haven’t lied yet. It would only be a lie if she submits the article to Rolling Stone. Her throat tightens. But I’m so close. She thinks about telling him, but quickly shuts the thought down when she considers that she still doesn’t have enough material and can’t afford to risk it now. This is her chance, there’s no doubt about it. Why else would the universe have planted a world famous rockstar right at her feet just when she had decided to give up for good? Alani had to at least try, she owed it to herself, and she reasons that if Harry really cares about her, he will understand. He would have to. 

Alani: It’s going. 

Harry: Can I get a sneak peek anytime soon?

Alani: Soon. Good night, Harry. 

She sends the last text and sets her phone face down next to her. If she was going to do this, she had to do it right—even if it meant putting some space between the two of them. She owed that much to Harry. 

He sinks further into the mattress, not understanding what he had said or done wrong, but he grants Alani her space, anyway.  

Harry: Good night Alani. 

********

“You’re listening to KWPX The Wave and that was the latest single from Ariana Grande,”

Alani stops fiddling with the radio and sits back with a defeated huff. She had been in a rut with her own music lately and after spending nearly fifteen minutes in her driveway shuffling through songs, she decided to turn on the radio and leave it up to fate.

“Next up is a song from everyone’s favorite ex-boyband: One Direction,”

Goddamnit, Alani groans. She had forgotten what a bitch fate could be. 

“Now, I have to say, DeeDee,” the radio DJ starts. “I was personally heartbroken to hear the news, and I know my daughters were too,”

“Oh definitely,” DeeDee replies. “And I can’t help but wonder what this means for all of them. I mean, what do you think they’re up to these days?”

The first DJ gives a snide chuckle before he continues. “Probably doing what every twenty-something year old millionaire does: booze, cruise, and schmooze—the pretty girls, especially,”

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes at his insinuation. She had begun to resent all of the gossip and speculation surrounding Harry’s whereabouts, especially after learning how much privacy meant to him. Moreover, she hated the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins at the thought of him with another girl. Alani supposes that it wasn’t entirely out of the question since they were far from romantically involved. While he had occupied her mind over the past few weeks, she knew that it was highly unlikely that he paid her the same attention. The thought still brings bile to her mouth. 

“Well whatever they’re up to, one thing seems to be pretty clear,” DeeDee speaks up again. “All eyes will be on Harry Styles. I mean, he’s really the one to watch in all of this, isn’t he?”

“I think you’re right. I’m curious to see what he’s got in store. Maybe he’ll join Justin Timberlake and Nick Jonas with the ex-boyband buzz cut. But without further ado, here’s Drag Me Down.”

Alani knows that she’ll have to talk to Harry eventually; over the past week and a half, she had dodged every invitation to hang out, left cut and dry responses to all of his texts, and even ducked into the restaurant’s walk-in fridge when he unexpectedly showed up one afternoon. While the temptation to indulge his friendly advances was high, professional boundaries needed to be established. She had already begun working on the article with material from the two previous interviews—and it wasn’t half bad—but there was still so much of the story to fill in. If Alani was going to make it all worthwhile, she had to keep digging and do it fast; she couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.  

Her car sputters slightly as she heads south on Mamalahoa Highway and the radio fades in and out. Alani checks all of her gauges—she had made sure that the gas tank was full before leaving—and doesn’t see anything unusual. A few miles later, it jerks again before coming to a complete stop. 

“Fuck,” she cries, pounding her palms against the steering wheel. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Alani waits a moment before turning the key again, but the engine refuses to start. She whips her phone out of the cupholder and scrolls through her contact list. 

Pua—no license.

Maleah—out of town. 

Dad—also out of town, catering a wedding in Oahu. 

Mom—probably scrubbed in on a major, life-saving surgery. 

She continues scrolling until her finger lands on a name that makes her heart race and sink at the same time. 

Harry Styles—no. 

There’s no way she can justify calling him, not after giving him the cold shoulder all week. If texting back and forth was unprofessional, then asking to be rescued off the side of the road surely crossed several boundaries. Alani scans her surroundings, shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun. There isn’t a car or person in sight for miles—what other choice does she have? With shaking fingers, she dials the number and presses the phone to her ear. Harry answers after the third ring. 

“Hello?” he responds loudly over the sound of cymbals crashing and laughter in the background. 

“Hi,” Alani greets, raising her voice to be heard. “It’s Alani,”

She hears shuffling on the other end and then Harry’s voice, softer this time. 

“Oh hey. How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

Harry senses that something is off, but he’s glad to hear from Alani, nevertheless. His friends continue their antics in the studio, despite his silent gestures to knock it off, so he heads outside. 

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. S’good to hear from you,” he offers shyly. 

Alani’s chest tightens. 

“Ditto,” she replies. “Hey listen, um, I’m kind of in a bit of trouble I—” 

She hesitates. What the hell am I doing? 

“I need your help,”

Harry’s heart sinks, immediately filled with worry. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. “It’s my car,”

“Where are you?”

“The highway, southbound. Just past exit 243, I think,”

“I’m on my way,”

“Thank you,” Alani offers gently. “Really, thank you.”

A soft smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “Anytime.”

He arrives in a pink Cadillac fifteen minutes later, pulling over behind Alani. She doesn’t recognize the car and  her confusion only deepens when a man with short-cropped hair emerges. As he approaches, a wave of recognition and relief washes over her. 

“Harry?”

“Hey,” he greets, walking up to the driver’s side. “Need a lift?”

Alani’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly, scanning his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person than the one she remembers, and he has the faintest trace of stubble above his lip and jaw. 

“You cut your hair,”

“I did,” he confirms. 

“It’s so short,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Alani offers with a light laugh, feeling flustered under his gaze. “I mean it looks great, really suits you. Not that it matters what I think, it’s your hair,”

But it did matter. Everything she did, or didn’t do, said, and didn’t say— it all mattered to him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. And it mattered more than she would ever know. 

“So Stevie quit on you?”

Alani sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honestly. All of the gauges look fine and I filled the tank this morning,”

Harry asks her to pop the hood and makes his way to the front of the Bronco. He looks around, not seeing any smoke or trace of other issues, though his knowledge of cars isn’t as comprehensive as he’d like in this situation. 

Alani joins him, doing her own scan over the inside of the hood despite the fact that she has no idea what to look for. Her eyes wander to Harry’s strong hands as they prod the various bells and whistles, and she notices the way his tanned skin glistens under the sun. The cross pendant nestled behind his white t-shirt escapes when he leans over, swinging like a mesmerizing pendulum. 

“I called a tow truck,” he says standing with his hands on his hips. “Should be here soon,”

“I’ll pay you back,” Alani offers quickly, her throat dry. 

Harry waves her concern away with a hand and places the hood back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay,”

“I really owe you one,” she says appreciatively. 

He leans against the car with his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have lunch with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

The tow truck arrives ten minutes later and the driver gathers all of Alani’s information, letting her know which mechanic the car will be taken to and when she can pick it up. She sighs watching Stevie pull away down the road and imagines the dent it’ll make in her savings. Harry nudges her gently, motioning for her to get in his car. 

“New ride?” she questions, running her fingers over the cotton candy paint. 

“It belongs to the owner of the studio,” he explains. “All of the cars do except the Rover, she’s a rental. But Jeff took her out to get us lunch,”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your plans,” Alani apologizes. And for kind of ghosting you, she thinks. 

Harry shakes his head, shifting the gear between them. “Nah, you didn’t interrupt, we were just messing around. But I am curious to know what brought you all the way out here on a Tuesday afternoon. Skipping town?”

Alani giggles at the way he says “Tuesday,” but responds despite the curious look he flashes her. “Day off. I was gonna go to the beach,”

“Bummer,” Harry offers, thanking every deity that he can name. “We could still go,”

“Your friends won’t be mad?”

“They’ll be fine,”

Alani nods, her eyes studying the orange checkers on her trousers.

“What’re you hungry for?” Harry speaks up. 

She thinks for a moment and is reminded of her original plans. “I could go for some sushi,”

“Know any good places?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” Alani’s curious gaze falls to the glove box before her, immediately wondering what’s inside. “Do you think the owner will be mad if I open this?”

Harry glances down at what she’s pointing to and shakes his head. “Knock yourself out,”

Alani pulls down the hatch and reaches inside; her fingers make contact with what feels like a pair of glasses. When her hand re-emerges with a pair that are pink and heart-shaped, she smiles. 

“They have good taste,” she comments, putting them on. 

Harry looks over and flashes a wide grin, the dimple that Alani has become so fond of emerging. 

“Look good on you,”

“Try them on,” Alani suggests, handing them over. 

He obliges and pushes his own pair up to make room for the other lenses. 

“What d’you think?”

“I think you should keep them,” she says. “They suit you.”

And they really do; they compliment his face well and hint to the fun, easygoing parts of his personality that Alani has recently discovered. 

She directs him to her favorite sushi spot near Bayfront Park, which is buzzing per usual. After they’ve been seated on the patio outside, Harry tucks the heart-shaped sunglasses into his t-shirt and contemplates addressing the elephant in the room: the ghosting. He doesn’t want to spook her, though,  so he decides to pose the question lightly, but Alani speaks before he has the chance. 

“So what’s with the haircut?”

Harry blinks, clearing his throat before he responds. “You hate it,”

“No!” She defends. “I like it, really, it looks great,”

“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t absolutely hate it,” he teases in mock offense. 

Alani rolls her eyes, a playful smile spreading across her face. “It just seems like a huge step and I’m curious, that’s all,”

He considers this, deciding to stop giving her a hard time, and responds. “Well if you must know, it’s for an audition,”

“For?”

“A movie,”

“A movie?” Alani’s eyes grow wide. “You’re gonna be in a movie?”

“Maybe,” he clarifies. “Dunno yet,”

“Wow,”

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What have you been up to? Any life changing decisions?”

Alani shrugs. “Same old. Work, my summer class,”

“And how’s your family?” he asks, which catches her off guard. 

“Good. My sister’s… a moody teenager. My dad is catering a big wedding in Oahu right now. Mom’s saving lives like the badass woman she is,”

Harry laughs lightly at her comment and Alani tries to store the soundbite in the back of her mind for safe keeping.

“What about yours?” she questions. 

“Fine, yeah. Mum’s good, so’s Gemma. Talk to them at least once a week just to check in,”

He pauses to take a sip of his water before continuing. “Ever since I was about...ten, maybe, ‘ve had this feeling like—protect mum at all costs. But she’s strong, has the greatest heart,”

Alani finds it sweet that Harry speaks so highly of Anne. Her own mom had always told her that a lot can be said about the character of a man by the way he treats his mother. 

“I’m sure she misses having you around,” Alani comments, thinking of her own close relationship with her mom. “I don’t know if I could let my child leave home as early as you did,”

Harry brushes the tip of his nose with a knuckle and nods. “Was kinda hard at first, but she’s always been really supportive.”

“I bet she’s really proud.”

He offers a shy smile in response, scanning the scenery around them. 

“I’m sure your family’s proud of you too.”

Alani and Harry continue their light conversation through the entire meal, sharing stories about their families and childhood. She finds herself wishing that  she could have met a teenaged Harry, pre-fame and general world domination. He enjoys her anecdotes, soaking up every detail that he possibly can as if his life depends on it. The two of them go back and forth well after the meal is finished, only pausing when the waitress stops to check on them. 

“Maybe we should go,” Alani suggests, checking her phone for the time. “I always hate when customers stay for hours,”

“Just like I did the first time at the café?” he asks, putting his signature on the bill. 

Alani feels her cheeks warm and she quickly back pedals. “No! I mean—well, yeah, kinda—”

“And the truth comes out!”

“I was just annoyed because my sister kept bugging me to fill up your water. She was afraid you were gonna, like, get dehydrated and die or something.”

“Tell her I appreciate the concern.”

Alani laughs lightly, feeling a bit of relief when the breeze soothes her burning cheeks. The two of them make their way back into the restaurant and out the main entrance, padding down the boardwalk side by side. Harry never knows what to do with his hands, usually opting to stuff them into his pockets as he hurries down a busy street,  but he desperately wishes to occupy them a different way. His pinky involuntarily brushes the back of Alani’s hand, but he pulls away quickly to avoid freaking her out. She wishes he hadn’t. 

“What were you gonna do at the beach?” he asks to break the ice. 

She thinks for a moment, watching the different couples huddled together on the beach. “Relax, get some air. Do a little reading,”

“What’re you reading?”

“Currently this book about Laurel Canyon in California and some of the musicians who lived there during the 60s. You might like it,”

Harry’s brow raises. “Think so?”

“Yeah, it’s got Joni, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Mamas and the Papas, all those guys. They talk about their experiences of coming to terms with rapidly growing fame, the reality of the peace and love movement, the collaborative process. Seems like something you might find interesting—relatable, even,”

"I’ll check it out,” Harry promises with a nod. 

Alani smiles gently and refocuses her attention on the horizon. “So what were you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” Think about you. “But speaking of books and stuff, I‘ve been meaning to ask. When you become, you know, the next Pulitzer Prize winner, do I get to be your plus one?”

She scoffs, squinting under the bright sun to look up at him. “I don’t know, I have to make it first,”

“And what does ‘making it’ mean to you?” Harry had been trying to re-define success, himself, and was curious to hear Alani’s thoughts on the subject.

She ponders the question for a minute, adjusting the straps of her orange tank-top to occupy her anxious fingers. “Move to New York, work for some big publication, something like that,”

“New York?” he asks, slightly taken aback. “And leave all this behind?”

“I think I’d like the change,” Alani reasons. “I love it here more than anything, but I think I’ve gotta make my own way, my own decisions. My grandma used to say that you ‘gotta swim before you drown because the ocean’s too vast and too interesting to get stuck treading water in the same place,’”

Harry nods, understandingly. “Wise woman,”

“Carolina,” Alani says, using the Spanish pronunciation that sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “That was her name, I was named after her,”

“Middle name?”

“Yeah,” she clarifies. “I’m half Mexican on my mom’s side,”

He hums. “Ever been?”

“To Mexico?” Alani asks, proceeding when he nods. “Yeah. Once when I was like, five, we went to Xcaret for my aunt’s wedding,”

“It’s beautiful there,” Harry notes. 

“What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?” Alani questions, imagining all the stamps that must be in Harry’s passport. 

He thinks for a moment, a hum buzzing low in his throat as he sifts through his memory. “Probably Italy,”

“Lucky,” Alani muses, picturing the Gothic cathedrals that she longs to visit. 

“You’d like it there.” Harry says, truly believing it. A part of him felt that she belonged in every beautiful place he could think of. 

The two of them walk in silence for a few moments, each taking time to scope out the view around them. Alani sees a couple leaned against a staircase railing, looking deep in conversation, though probably not a pleasant one. 

“You think they’re breaking up?” Alani asks gently, nodding her head in their direction. “Or just having the talk?”

Harry scans the scenery before his eyes land on the pair that she's referring to. “Ah yes, the talk. Ye olde chat,”

“What do you think you’d be if you weren’t a musician?” She poses suddenly. He laughs to himself at the way Alani jumps from topic to topic and reasons that her mind must always be going a mile a minute. 

“A virgin,” Harry jokes, hoping that it’ll land. When she lets out a sudden, bright laugh, he looks over in relief. 

“God, you are so…” Alani trails off, shaking her head.

 He waits to see if she’ll finish the statement, but he doesn’t think she will. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to say. The more Alani learns about Harry, the more he seems to surprise her. One minute he can be serious and thoughtful. The next, a ray of sunshine—aloof and carefree. She finds herself anticipating his every move, every word, and loving each minute that he allows her to. It makes her head spin at times, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They journey down to the shore and discard their shoes in favor of feeling the cool sand beneath their toes. Alani tells Harry about the sea glass collection she had as a child, and he makes a mental note to scan the ground for any pieces she might like. She asks him if the beaches are nice in England, to which he responds a hard “no” compared to the ones in Hawaii or California. A couple of children splash in the shallow water nearby, and Alani doesn’t miss the fond look in Harry’s eye as he watches. Eventually, they wander back up to the main boardwalk when they spot a group of people  happily sipping milkshakes. Harry noticed her eyes following them, practically drooling, so he suggested it before she had to. 

“Want some?” Alani asks, her mouth full of strawberry. 

Harry gladly accepts, taking a sip from the straw that she holds out to him. He hums, letting the taste sit on his tongue before he offers  his own cup full of vanilla. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning over for a taste. The flavor is sweet and comforting to her, despite popular opinion that it’s boring. Alani swipes her tongue across her lower lip and thinks for a moment that this is what his mouth must taste like. She wishes she could verify this thought. 

“I’m really glad you got the strawberry,” he notes, stirring his drink with the straw. “I was having a serious crisis over what to get,”

“When in doubt, always go with the pink one,” Alani says, tapping her temple, and suddenly Harry remembers that the contents of her bag were all various shades of bubble gum and dusty rose. 

“It’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” he offers, taking another sip of his milkshake. 

“Paul Simonon?” she questions with narrowed eyes, instantly recognizing his reference to a quote from The Clash’s bassist.  

“Nothing gets past you.”

********

The clouds above start to resemble puffs of cotton candy, signaling that the day will soon draw to a close much to both Harry and Alani’s dismay. They lounge in the pink Cadillac, which is parked in an area that overlooks the entire beach, and take turns picking out the one lie amongst two truths about one another; it was a game that Harry had proposed. 

“Is it,” Alani starts, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “The four nipples?”

Harry makes a buzzer sound effect through his own laughter, temple resting against his fist as his arm drapes over the seat. 

“Wrong-o, sorry,”

“What?!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “You’re messing with me,”

“Am not,” he defends proudly. 

Alani lets out a surprised chuckle, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t believe you,”

“I’d prove it,” he shrugs. “But then I’d have to flash you,”

“Guess we’ll never know, then,” 

Their laughter settles down and the only sound between them is the crashing of waves in the distance. Harry lets his eyes trail down the slope of Alani’s nose to her cupid’s bow—dangerous territory. Little does he know, Alani does the same, noting the fact that his lips are heart-shaped and the perfect shade of strawberry. How sickeningly charming, she thinks. Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and there’s something hidden behind the sea-glass that she can’t quite read. The air becomes charged and the two of them are like magnets, drawn inexplicably towards one another. Alani inches closer, her heart pounding so violently in her chest, she’s afraid that he can hear it. The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears prevents this, however, as he leans in too. The space between them gets smaller, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, when the high pitched ringing of Alani’s phone sends her jolting backward. Harry curses every deity that he can name. 

“Hello?” she responds, turning her back to him. She listens for a minute, a soft “mhmm” escaping every few seconds. “Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,” 

Alani dreads having to turn back to Harry and face the consequences of whatever lines were almost crossed. She chooses to simply ignore it all together, as if no time had passed between his shocking personal revelation and the ringing of her phone. 

“Stevie’s ready.” she says weakly. 

Harry swallows down his frustration and offers a polite smile. “Let’s go get her.”

The mechanic shop is twenty minutes from the beach; Harry and Alani spend the entire ride in silence. Neither of them address the almost kiss despite the fact that it hangs over their heads like a raincloud of uncertain emotion. She occupies her gaze with the scenery whizzing past while he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Alani mourns the fact that their little bubble had been popped so soon, but she figures that it’s for the best. Don’t get attached, she reminds herself. Easier said than done. Harry also wallows in the aftermath of the interruption, wishing he had acted sooner. When they finally arrive at the shop, the mechanic reveals that the cause of her car troubles was a simple dead battery. Harry offers to foot the bill, but Alani refuses, deciding that she shouldn’t accept any more favors from him in order to restore the boundary. 

“So I guess this is where we part ways,” Alani says gently, toying with her keys. 

Harry scans his brain for something—anything—a single excuse to see her again, and soon. He doesn’t think he can take another week and a half of icy silence and he has a suspicion that she can’t either. After all, she had leaned in, too—hadn’t she?

“There’s this thing,” he blurts out. “A sort of jam sesh at the studio tomorrow night. There’s gonna be booze, otherwise I’d tell you to bring your sister. But I’d love for you to come, and I think it might be good for—the article, or something,”

Alani weighs the pros and cons in her mind, one of which he had already mentioned: a chance to listen to what he’s working on. It seemed professional and innocent enough, not to mention the fact that there’d be other people around to keep them in check. Once she decides it’s safe, she nods. 

“Okay, sure,”

“I can pick you up,” Harry offers. 

Alani shakes her head gently and offers a shy smile. “No, that's okay. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.”

They exchange good-byes and Alani thanks him for coming to her rescue, to which he offers a modest shrug. Harry speeds down the highway and back to the house, but three words linger in the silence. 

I’ll be there.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #solo harry #one direction #harry fic #ybmh #sooo :))) how we feelin now

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Havandra

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can i request something where geralt meets another girl and starts ignoring/neglecting y/n and both of them being rude to her and rly angsty w a fluff ending if you can!! Thank you so much!!

A/N: Hello, I don’t know who you are but thank you for your request, it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy 

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, murder, fighting

There was something about fine ladies with intricate dresses and long lashes that seemed to enchant the unenchantable.

Especially your Witcher.

They were his weakness, and it didn’t matter what they were. Human, mages, monsters, it was all the same.

Knowing this you shouldn’t have been surprised how immediately he trailed off as his eyes followed her down the hallway. She deserved it, every glance that was sent her way. Her entire existence screamed ‘Admire Me!’ Her dress glittered like the ocean at midnight and her hair was a sheet of shining obsidian, swaying with every step, taunting you as she approached. Big blue eyes, full lips, high cheekbones were straight out of a painting that hung in lonely king’s courts. It was clear someone had sculpted her, had dragged magic through her skin until she lacked impurity.

It’s not that you weren’t pretty, for a hunter. Spattered freckles, scars, and comfort had nothing on fair skin, magic, and mystery.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, and you should have found yourself a new traveling companion, at least until she was gone. You didn’t, of course, because you were an idiot, and unrequited love made you an idiotic doormat.

“I’m Havandra,” she purred, brushing you out of the way with almost no effort at all. Placing a hand on your Witcher’s shoulder, fingers twirling into the fabric of his collar. “The resident mage. He nodded gruffly, Adam’s apple tight in his throat and you rolled your eyes.

“Geralt-,”

“of Rivia, yes I know. I heard you were wandering our halls. I was hoping I would bump into you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Geralt, we need to speak to the king,” you reminded him, catching the attention of Havandra.

“And you are?” she asked, turning and planting herself between you and Geralt.

“His partner.”

“That’s so cute. Tell me, partner in what capacity?”

“I don’t think I know what you mean.”

“Well, you clearly not together in the sense of lovers. So if you’re not pleasuring him, why on earth does he keep a plain thing like you around.” You glanced over your shoulder at Geralt, who seemed to not hear anything she said.

“She’s a hunter,” he informed her, and you struggled to breathe.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if we get drinks?”

“We have to talk to the king,” you reminded but he was already gone, intertwined with the beautiful Havandra. As they strolled away, she glanced over his should and sent you a sharp smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return him mostly unharmed.”

You could scream, you wanted to more than anything, but you settled for unsheathing your sword and slamming it into the stone walls.

“Fuck,” you screamed, hands aching from the reverberation. He just left, with her, not even bothering to defend you. You weren’t fucking plain! And you were going to let her have it, she was evil, something was wrong.

No.

This was envy, it had planted itself in your heart and begun to grow. She wasn’t evil, just beautiful. Anyhow, you have no right to be jealous. He’s not yours, he’s never been yours. You told yourself friendship was fine time and time again. Every time you had to make yourself scarce because some girl had managed to enchant him for the night it stung but you knew it was for the best. And even this time, though you hated every inch of her, it was no different than anytime before.

Except this time, he hadn’t defended you. Every time before, the moment his conquest came after you, she was done. He told her to fuck off and grunted that it was time to go, but not this time. You had been sure he hadn’t heard her, but then he as if it was nothing he demoted you from friend to some hunter who had decided to tag along with the great and mighty Geralt of Rivia.

It’s fine, you told yourself deciding whether you should still go the king or postpone it until you had the man he had really called for at your side. If the rumors were true, this king had no problem killing those who failed to bring him what he requested, and you were sure this was one of those cases.

Instead, you took a walk, searching for a way to blow off some steam. Though you weren’t angry enough to leave the man, you definitely wanted nothing more than to punch that dopey look right off his face.

A deer darted in front of you as you stepped awkwardly and snapped a loose branch. You had your bow out in an instant and your arrow knocked, following the creature as closely as you could, inching forward ever so slowly. It didn’t stop until it was for out of sight, bushes blocking your view, but stepping onto a boulder gave you just enough high ground to see its ears poking out from the brush.

A second passed and then it was dead, your arrow lodged cleanly in its neck. Sighing, you threw it over your shoulder and made your way to town. Once there you sold the deer for a pretty penny and headed towards your room. The pub was crowded, men and women filling every crevice. They sang and danced and smiled, something you wanted no part of in your state of mind. You just wanted to lay down and sleep.

And wait for Geralt to get bored.

You fumbled with the key and finally pushed it open with a satisfying click, only the reveal Geralt and Havandra naked, wrapped within one another while she rode him. Your eyes widened at the sight. The room was ten degrees hotter than the hallway, hot skin slapping against hot skin. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, his hands wrapped around her breasts. Animalistic moans filled your ears and you squeaked an apology, scrambling to leave, but they paid you no mind. You slammed the door shut and tears rushed to your eyes.

You have no right to be jealous. He’s not yours, and tomorrow he wouldn’t be hers either. You sat down and waited for her to leave, praying it would be soon.

You fell asleep in the hallway long after the sun went down, but you could still hear them, feel the shaking of the walls. Even as you woke with the sun the next morning, you could still hear them. It had slowed down, exhaustion pulling at the two, but her high pitched whimpers still creeping beneath the door. It wasn’t until it was completely silent that you dared to open the door once again.

She was plastered against his chest, both breathing heavily within sleep. You slipped through towards your bag that lay beside the bed, rummaging for your extra pair of pants. You picked up one of your knives and moved to leave, but as you stood you met the sapphire eyes of Havandra, who smirked at you before screaming.

You jumped back, dropping your things to the floor as you covered your ears and Geralt was up in a second.

“Geralt, she had a knife. She was going to kill me,” she screamed, curling up in his arms. He glared at you and you took another step back.

“I didn’t-,”

“I’ll talk to you outside.”

“But-,”

“Go!” he barked and you scurried outside as quickly as you could, leaving all that you held behind. You punched the wall and waited with throbbing knuckles. She was trying to get rid of you, that stupid mage. You had to explain, convince him that she was lying, but with the look he had sent you, you were sure that wouldn’t be easy. “What the fuck?” he asked lowly as he stepped out from the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Geralt, I wasn’t trying to kill her, I swear,” you pleaded but he wasn’t having it.

“No, you are a jealous, spiteful bitch. She told me she could tell you’re in love with me. Is that true? Were you going to try and kill her in hopes that I would finally look at you?”

“No, Geralt I would never.”

“Are you sure, because it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone and scared off my company.”

“There’s something wrong with her.”

“No, there’s something wrong with you.”

“You have to believe me,” you were crying now, the feeling her smirk gave you still slipping up and down your spine.

“I don’t have to believe anything you have to say, Y/N. I should turn you in, but how about we settle for you leaving and never coming back.”

No, you couldn’t leave him. Not like this, not ever like this.

“You have an hour and then I’m going to turn you in, be long gone or face prison.” You turned and ran. It was pouring outside, the clouds that had been gathering for days, finally releasing their burden. Your tears mixed with the thick raindrops as your stumbled towards the forest, slipping through the mud and debris.

You had nowhere to go, no horse, no food, no money. You were as good as dead. You couldn’t believe he had sent you away, ears deaf to anything you had to say. All he cared about was Havandra. He had known you for three years and yet he had still chosen her, devoted even his common sense without knowing more than her name.

The trees provided little cover, and you found it harder to run as the roads began to flood. In one false step you were falling, tumbling down a hill into a muddy ravine. You tried to unstick yourself, but every time you stood you slipped again and wound up muddier than before. On hands and knees you crawled towards the slope, hoping to make it to the road before the ravine flooded and you were trapped when the torrents came rushing through.

Nails dug into mud, searching for anything of substance to hold onto, to pull yourself free. You slipped again and your mouth filled with mud. Spitting it out you continued your climb until something odd caught your attention, you pulled yourself closer and let out a gasp, tumbling back down the hill in surprise. Emerging from the quickly eroding slope was a body, the hand creeping out, and then the arm, then the torso, and finally it came washing down towards you with the rest od the debris that had been unearthed during to the torrent. You tried to scramble away, but you were hit full force with the body. You opened your eyes and found yourself staring into the sapphire eyes of the kingdom’s mage. Even caked in dirt you could tell, that the real, very dead, Havandra was laying on top of you, neck slit like a pig. You shoved her off you and realized with unimaginable dread what the monster who had been hired to hunt was.

And where it was.

Mud and rain couldn’t stop you as they had when you found no reason to fight, as now you could imagine the knife above Geralt, plunging into his chest with no remorse. It had only been you stopping it, and with you on the run the doppler would have no problem lodging a knife into the formidable Witcher, drunk on charm and sex.

No one tried to stop you as you neared the town and you prayed that he simply had been bluffing and was not yet dead. You pounded up the stairs off the inn and with an adrenaline you had never felt before slammed your body into the door, breaking anything that held it back. A shocked shapeshifter jumped back, the knife still clutched in its hand and Geralt woke up. He looked between his once beautiful Havandra and your mud doused body, the knife slipped from her hands, the twisted look on her face intensifying and you lunged. The force, though not quite as strong as when you charged the door, knocked both of you to the floor. It screamed and kicked you back. Upon contact with the wall the window shattered. You tried to clear your head as it approached.

“Fucking women, always getting in my way,” it hissed, pulling a knife from its tunic. You grabbed a piece of glass from the ground and lunged, pushing it back. Its knife caught you in the arm and you screamed, wrapping your hands around its neck but it threw you into the hallway. You darted forward, hand sliding across the dresser where the silver knife lay and dug into its heart. The screams were terrible, worse than the accusatory one it had uttered earlier. You dropped to the ground and covered your ears, not daring to remove them until all had gone silent.

You slid towards your Witcher who was slowly coming too, his angry eyes blinking into ones of confusion.

“Y/N?” he muttered, rubbing his temples, “What the fuck happened?” You explained it to him quickly, leaving out all that he had said to you in the hallway, and he just nodded and listened. “And what happened to you? I remember what I said to you.”

“It was spell, you didn’t mean it.” You avoided his gaze as you said it, the words still fresh in your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, like I said, the spell.”

“Do you really love me?” Now your eyes snapped to his and you swallowed nervously. His expression was unreadable. What was it disgust? Discomfort? Simply curiosity?

“I do.” There was a moment of silence, the longest moment of your entire life. You were sure years had passed before either of you move.

And then he pulled you to his lips, kissing you with newfound energy. It was exactly as you had imagined, soft lips but nipping teeth. He didn’t seem to mind the mud, or the fact that it was you. In fact, it seemed to be because it was you that he didn’t mind the mud.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he laughed between butterfly kisses, smearing away the mud as he went.

“The women you-,”

“Are nothing, everyone is nothing compared to you.” Your eyes widened in surprise and you tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with equal ferocity. “You are everything, my everything, and nothing will change that. Not women or spells, there is nothing but you and me.”

#the witcher #the witcher fluff #the witcher angst #the witcher smut #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt x reader #geralt x reader imagine #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt x reader angst #geralt x reader smut #geralt x reader fluff

[fallout4reactsblog]

I was wondering if you could do an ask for those of us who don't have family to celebrate the holidays with. Companions react to Sole being upset spending their first holiday season without their family.

Cait: “Do you wish you had someone this holiday, Cait?”

It’s a weird question to come out of nowhere, and she leans around the curio she’s searching through to eye them quizzically.

“Why do you ask?”

They shrug. “I was just thinking about my family and everything, and how I miss them, and I thought I would get your opinion.”

She chews her lip thoughtfully and returns to rifling through drawers. “The way I see it, this is the one holiday I actually do have someone to spend it with. Before you, nobody gave a shite about me, you know?”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that.” They laugh a little. “What an odd pair we make.”

“At least you’re not completely alone. You’ve got me, after all. Think of how much worse it would’ve been if you were by yourself.”

“That’s a surprisingly adept observation coming from you, Cait.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She chucks a loose snack cake at them.

They dodge, laughing. “It’s just strangely philosophical, you telling me to focus on what I have instead of dwelling on what I don’t. I guess I can learn a thing or too from you, huh?”

“Damn straight. You should listen to me more.”

“If I did, I’d end up dead.”

“Probably just maimed.”

“Brutally maimed.”

She waves a hand through the air. “Details.”

When they’ve quieted for a moment, she murmurs, “But for real, I am glad to have you, sole.”

Quietly, she hears. “I’m glad to have you, too.”

Curie: She taps the end of her pencil to her cheek as she searches for the right word. It’s not “impossible,” and “improbably” sounds too formal, but the word she wants escapes her. Frustrating.

“Curie?”

She glances up at sole, who’s sitting on the other end of the couch. In the middle, their legs have tangled together, and she looks past them to look them in the eyes.

“What is troubling you Madame/Monsieur?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just noticed you’ve been a lot more affectionate lately. I mean, you’ve barely left my side.”

She flushes. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all, I just thought it was strange.”

“I simply thought you would be feeling more lonely this time of year. Holidays can be a difficult time of year for those of us without family to celebrate with, non?”

They narrow their eyes. “Why were you even thinking about that?”

“I was simply reminiscing on my time with the other scientists before the war, and I remembered how lonely it was all by myself in the lab. They were always so happy around the holidays. And I thought to myself, sole is not in a lab, but they are also missing their family. I thought perhaps you would appreciate a little extra support.”

“That’s...” they shake their head. “That’s really sweet, Curie. Thank you.”

“Oh, do not mention it. It is merely a gesture of our friendship. You saved me from my loneliness, and I wish to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s kind. I appreciate it.”

“You are more than welcome, Madame/Monsieur. Anytime.”

Danse: He finds them out on the deck, wind whipping past them as they stare over the Commonwealth. They’ve been distant for days now, giving nothing but short answers, eyes far away when they talk. If he’s honest, he’s worried about them. It’s why he’s ditched the power armor in his bay for the moment; right now he wants to be a person, not a Paladin.

“Evening, Danse.”

They don’t turn to him when he approaches, and he doesn’t know how they can recognize his footsteps outside power armor, but he doesn’t question it. He just leans against the railing beside them.

“Something has been troubling you,” he says.

They sigh, and he can almost see them deflate against the railing. “You know, Danse, I thought that it would be easier than this.”

“What?”

“The holidays. I thought, you know, even though my family wasn’t here, maybe the Brotherhood would help fill that- that emptiness, if even just a little. But I guess it just doesn’t look like that.”

Their words hit too close to home, and he deflates a little, too. “I’m afraid you’re a year too late. With the war, there will be no holidays onboard the Prydwen.”

“Did there used to be?”

He nods, not trusting his words. He can’t tell them that, even though he understands why it’s necessary, it still hurts. They’re still new, still building their trust. He can’t sabotage that.

His silence means nothing, though, as sole seems to read his mind. “You must miss that. In a way, you don’t have a family for the holidays, either.”

Gently, they lean their shoulder to his, and he allows himself to lean back against them, just this once.

“At least we have each other,” they whisper.

He nods. “At least there’s that.”

Deacon: He doesn’t want to say it in such direct terms, but the truth is that sole’s house is a little... sad.

To be fair, they’ve only been in the Commonwealth a few months, and a lot of that was spent trying to figure out what the hell had happened to them and the world, but still. Sole’s place feels entirely like a house, and nothing like a home.

“You know, boss, you should just spend the holidays with us.”

They look up from their coffee mug from their place at their sad table with its sad, lone chair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, just come live at HQ a while. It’s gotta be better than spending the holidays alone out here.” Slowly, he turns in a circle, as if to emphasize how empty (and sad) the walls are.

“But my memories are here, Deeks.” They blow on their coffee. “This is where I should’ve spent the holiday.”

“Yeah, with your family, if the world hadn’t gone to shit and blown up. But it did, so you should just come celebrate with us. Trust me, you’ll be a lot happier.”

He doesn’t mention the number of holidays he spent in an empty farmhouse for the sake of memory, and thankfully sole doesn’t ask.

“Deacon, are you actually... worried about me?”

“Oh, you bet, boss. I mean, look at this place. It doesn’t even have electricity. You couldn’t have holiday lights if you wanted them.”

“Do you guys do holiday lights?”

He shrugs. “Do you want to?”

For a brief moment, there’s a spark of life in their eyes. “Would it be okay?”

“Who’s gonna complain? Carrington? Just tell him that he doesn’t have to look at them.”

They hum and say, “I guess I’ll consider it.”

That’s his cue to hit him with the ace up his sleeve. “We do a game of Secret Santa, too.”

They try to hide their smile, but they’re bad at it, and Deacon breathes a sigh of relief, knowing they’re sold.

Gage: “Fuck do you mean, you miss them?”

“I mean I was fucking married and had a kid, you eyeless prick. I actually cared about my family, and it sucks that they’re not here. I’m sorry that you cut ties with your family completely, but not all of us can or want to.”

He huffs, because he can tell he’s pushing a little too hard, and if he keeps going he’ll end up wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Well, Overboss, trust me when I say you won’t even remember them. We got a bit of a tradition here, ourselves.”

They eye him warily. “Do tell.”

He shrugs. “Not much to say. It’s a party, we get drunk, fuck around, light some shit on fire. It’s a good time. Can’t lay around feelin’ sorry for yourself when you’re lightin’ something on fire.”

“So, Yule. You’ve reinvented Yule.”

“Call it what you want. As long as you have a good time, who cares, right?”

Their face is still doubtful.

“At least give it a shot, boss. You’re gonna have to be there anyway to keep up appearances. Might as well try to have a good time while you’re at it.”

“Alright.” They sigh in resignation. “But if I end up drunk and crying in a corner, it’s your fault.”

“I promise to hide you before you can embarrass yourself.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask for.”

Hancock: “Hey, sister/brother, what do you think of these?”

He holds up a couple strands of garland and tosses them over to a waiting sole, still perched on a ladder.

“Shockingly good condition,” they say. “But I think this stuff usually goes on the tree.”

He waves a hand. “You put it wherever you want. I’m just helpin’.”

“Well, do you have a tree?”

“Somewhere around here.” He glances around, but realizing it’s not within direct line-of-sight, shouts, “Fahrenheit!”

“What?” Her voice is muffled by the distance, but her irritation is not.

“Where’s my tree?”

“Wherever you put it last year. I don’t keep track.”

“Damn,” he huffs. “ I thought for sure that’d work.”

He heads into the other room to rifle around for his tree. There’s a beat of silence before sole says, “You know, I never have properly thanked you.”

“For what?” He glares down at the wreath in his hands, which had tricked him into thinking it was a tree, before shrugging and tossing it to the side to get hung up anyway.

“For giving me stuff to do like this. Staying busy really helps me feel less... alone, you know?”

He rocks back on his heels, peering into the other room to make eye contact with them. “Sure thing, sunshine. But I’ll warn you, it wasn’t all my idea.”

They laugh a little. “I figure Daisy had a hand in things, but still. It’s nice of you.”

“I appreciate you assumin’ that I’m not just using you for free labor.”

They laugh again, for real this time, and he can’t help but smile.”

MacCready: He wants to say something. He wants to tell them that it’ll be alright, that he’s been there and it hurts, but you make it out in the end. He wants to be able to comfort them somehow as he watches them duck their head and pretend to not see the decorations in Diamond City, but he’ll be damned if he knows how.

Fortunately, sole has the words where he does not.

“This sucks,” they declare, holed up in the corner of the Bobrov’s bar.

“I’ll drink to that.”

They clink their beers together, sip, and lapse into silence before sole says, “I really miss my family, Mac.”

He closes his eyes, pictures his boy back in D.C., and agrees. “It’s a tough time of year to be without them.”

They reach across the table and grab his hand. “Next year, we’ll go down to D.C. We’ll have found the cure by then. We’ll go see Duncan.”

“Would you really want to go?” His heart is thrilled to hear their words, but his head tells him that might only hurt them more.

“Of course. I want to see you go home and see your kid. I wish we could’ve done it this year, but...”

“That didn’t work out,” he finishes.

They nod.

“You know,” he says, taking another sip of beer, “next year we’ll have a big family celebration to compensate.”

“What, you and Duncan?”

“No, all three of us. We’ll go the whole nine yards. Lights, presents, everything. The real deal, all three of us. Family.”

That brings a smile to their face, and he smiles to see it. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but for a moment he can see the whole thing before him. The three of them together, laughing, making a family out of nothing.

Just make it through this year, he promises sole silently, and I’ll make sure you have a family holiday again.

Nick: He eyes sole in the corner of the agency, where they’re talking to Ellie about some case they’re working. They’ve been talking about leaving these past few days, about heading up to Sanctuary for the holidays. It doesn’t sit right with him. He knows sole, and he knows that only bad things await them at their old home this year.

“Well, I’m headed out.” They breeze by his desk to grab their hat. “Have a nice holiday, you two.

He looks them dead in the eyes and asks, “Why?”

They freeze right where they are. “Why what?”

“Why are you leaving? Got somethin’ real exciting up north?”

Their expression tells him they don’t have a good answer, and he sighs.

“Look, kid, I get it. You think you wanna be alone to mourn and cope with your loss. But I’m tellin’ ya, you’re not coping. You’re just making yourself miserable.”

Under their breath, they mutter, “Damn detectives. Always analyzing you,” before turning to him directly. “Well, you and Ellie already have your thing going on. I’d hate to intrude...”

“You’re not intruding,” Ellie pipes up. “In fact, I already bought you a present. In a way, it would almost be ruder to leave.”

“I bought one, too,” he says. “How about that?”

They hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Bed upstairs is all yours. Stay a while. It’s not like ya can’t change your mind and leave later.”

They turn to Ellie, but she’s just nodding along. “I freshened up the sheets just the other day, actually.”

“Well... alright.”

He lets himself smile.

Piper: “Damn, Blue. This place looks worse than the Glowing Sea.”

Her eyes scan Sanctuary Hills. Even Preston has headed off to the Castle for the month, so the place looks well and truly abandoned. The breeze kicks up as if on cue, scattering a few leaves across the road.

“Isn’t it great?” They kick a pebble across the street, bitter expression on their face. “No family for the holidays, and nobody else, either.”

“You can’t stay here,” she says, staring at the bleak, run-down houses.

They shrug. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go. I could stay at one of the other settlements, but that just feels weird. My home is here.”

Piper shakes her head. “No way, Blue. I won’t allow it. You are not spending the holidays here and that is final, you hear me? Final.”

They glance over at her with a bemused expression. “Then where am I going?”

“Home, with me, to Diamond City. You’ll spend the holidays with Nat and I, not here in, well, this. I mean, at least Diamond City decorates.”

They laugh a little. “Piper there is no room for me in your house.”

“We will make room. This isn’t up for debate, Blue. And don’t start with the ‘Oh, I’ll be intruding’ stuff, either. Nat’s gonna be thrilled to see you, and I’ll be thrilled you aren’t moping around this place that could probably make Takahashi depressed.”

“What, the noodle bot?”

“The very same. Now, go make yourself a sleeping bag, get whatever else you need, and let’s go.”

They salute her mockingly, “Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

Better to be mocked than leave sole here.

Preston: He knows without sole saying a word. He knows that pain, the haunted look that trails them, the way they linger just a moment too long in the doorway of their home before sighing. He can’t help but feel for them, too, because he still feels like he’s in those shoes, lonely around the one time of year no one should be lonely.

Maybe that’s why he does what he does. He tells himself he’s crazy, even as he treks across the Commonwealth, searching out their companions, inviting them to Sanctuary so sole can be surrounded by this new, found family they’ve made. He can’t let sole suffer alone, not this time, not ever. He knows what that loneliness does to a person, and he refuses to ask sole to face it on top of everything else.

He reminds X6 that, if he doesn’t play nice, he probably won’t live to regret it.

He meets Gage at neutral territory and, even though it disgusts him beyond belief, they make a temporary armistice for the next few months.

He tells Danse that if he makes so much as one comment about ghouls, synths, or anyone else, he won’t be able to get all the sand out of his power armor for months.

It’s not the most glamorous job in the Commonwealth, but he is bound and determined to make this thing work, no matter the cost or consequence.

X6: “I don’t think I understand. Your family is here.”

They sigh. “But they’re not, X6. Sure, I found Shaun, but he’s hardly the child I thought I was looking for, and my spouse is still dead. My own son doesn’t even know me, much less would want to spend the holidays with me. I may have found Shaun, but...” They sigh. “Did I find my son?”

He takes a moment to contemplate their words. “You’re quite distressed about this.”

“I guess?” They shake their head. “I’m just lonely, X6. That’s all. I miss my family and having someone to spend the holidays with. It just doesn’t feel the same.”

He looks at them, takes in their tired, beaten expression and their slumped posture. Quietly, he evaluates a series of options and outcomes before leaning in and whispering, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“A secret. Do you want to know a secret?”

They slide toward him, dropping their voice to a whisper, too. “Yes.”

“Us coursers aren’t supposed to have holidays. We are not supposed to have a sense of family. You know this.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you would like to join us, who also have no family, for a small celebration, then. It isn’t much, but there are snack cakes.”

They look at him, almost impressed. “X6, you know that’s not allowed. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you, and I think you need us as much as we need each other. I only ask that you don’t report it, if for no other reason than our bond as friends.”

“I- X6, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’d love to go.”

He nods. “It’s settled then. December twenty-second, one in the morning, the abandoned areas behind biosciences. Bring snack cakes, and bring lots if you want to make friends.”

#holiday asks bby! #i love them more than i can say #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #holidays #cait #curie #danse #deacon #gage #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88

[florencwrites]

prisoner 〚dreamwastaken〛

in which [reader] will always wait for him, in which dream is no longer dream

(!) blood, torture, emotional trauma (!)

If there's one thing that Dream had taught me; it was that persistence is key. "Stubbornness gets you places." He had always told me, laying in the grass against that same scratchy birch tree several times a week. He'd lay his head in my lap and hum songs while I played with his hair. He'd often pluck the grass and drop it on my knees, or draw little smiley faces on my skin.

He'd never meant for this to happen, for it all to happen. All along, all he had wanted was to be one big happy family, to give all his friends that exact feeling he had never gotten. He'd go out of his way to make people smile. Make them live in harmony, helping with crops and mining, even going as far as spending hours trying to find traces of ancient debris; all to make his friends content. He never wavered in his goals, always trying to convince people to see the best in everyone. Hoping that if he just kept smiling, one day, everyone would be smiling right back at him.

However, lately, his smile had rarely been genuine, really, the only time I ever saw the true glint of faith in his pupils was when we laid against that tree, humming songs and basking in the sun. He was having trouble keeping up his positive outlook, everywhere he looked there were pets dying and friendships breaking up. Houses being destroyed and families torn apart because of stupid things. Items that held no worth, that could never hold any worth as important as family or friends did.

"Stubbornness gets you places." He'd always say when I scolded him for acting like a brat. Unfortunately, the only place it had gotten him so far was in prison. I was reminded of this fact daily, returning to the impenetrable walls every minute I wasn't spending eating, at all hours of the day and night. My sobs echoed through the obsidian, mimicking the wails of the many ghasts that had tried to pass through generations of the dark purple stone. The block seemed to have created itself a connection to grief, mourning even. I pounded on the wall, to no avail I'd realized quite quickly on, until both my knuckles and palms were bloody and bruised, and I did it every single fucking day. I'd do everything to have him back in my arms, anything.

On the lonely nights, the residing heat in the obsidian often brought me warmth. The bubbles in the stone leaving marks on my shoulders. Often the warmth reminded me of him, of his chest pressing against my back. I could feel the ghost of his fingertips scour my arms, the glow of the obsidian on my neck making it almost appear as if he really was right there behind me, softly breathing into my skin. The lonely nights were good.

Because the nights where I wasn't alone, were nights I spent listening to his agonizing screams from deep within the fortress. Nights where the obsidian worked his torturous wonders and elated itself on the reminders of the excruciating pain that was put onto him. The nights where I couldn't physically bring myself to leave until his squeals had subsided, where I choked on my own tears until I could finally hear him sob again. Sobbing was good, sobbing meant that they had left him to be on his own at last, because sobbing meant that he was weak enough to them, and finally; sobbing meant no more torture.

Sam's shoes had been loud against the obsidian tiling, almost loud enough to distract me from the muffled growls that came from underneath them. Bubbling snarls that indicated that no man would be left alive, not when they breach these walls and definitely not when their body touches the water that surrounds it. He had caved, at last. He'd hastily ushered me inside late at night in the hopes of no person seeing the enormous gates open for the first time in weeks. I had clung to his waist, my knees failing me when he told me I was allowed one visit. No talking about it ever, or I'd see the same fate as my 'little boyfriend'.

He turned another corner as I cursed myself for not remembering the path we took, nor the redstone mechanisms he used to get me through the many disappearing doors. "There'll be a change of guards in 30 minutes, I need you outside in 20, got it?" His face was tense, eyes set sternly onto mine. I nodded, my head felt woozy from all the emotions swirling around it during these past few months, along with the lack of sleep, dehydration, and now adding to the list; the thought of finally seeing him again.

The umpteenth contraption boomed from beneath our feet, an almost rhythmic banging from right beneath our feet, slowly making it towards the wall in front of us. Slowly but surely the barricade was lifted, an immediate cry escaping from my lips as I saw the state of him. He was surrounded by iron bars in a cage in the immediate center of the room, the walls surrounding it bearing enough obsidian to guarantee his permanent stay.

My heart ached physically at the sight of him, my body moving itself to press against the bars hard enough to leave bruises on my ribs, dropping to my knees instantly. I reached my arms through the gaps of the confinement, barely not being able to reach where he laid curled up on the floor. He was facing me, however, his arms were shielding his features from me entirely. Tears upon tears flooded from my face as I screamed for him to look at me. He shot up, his pupils wearing nothing but complete and utter terror. He let out a loud shout, telling me to 'please, don't, please'. I wrapped one hand around the iron bars, steadying myself as I softened my voice, "Dream, it's me, baby, it's me."

He was on one knee, leaning his entire body against the barrier on the other side of the room he had fled to on instinct. His head rested on the metal for a second before instantly shooting up to look at where the voice came from. "Don't do this again, please." He pleaded, his voice was desperate, hopeless. "Anyone's voice but hers."

"Dream?" My voice was as gentle and soft as I could possibly make it while also sounding urgent enough for him to realize I wasn't fake, I wasn't some recording they played to demoralize him. "Dream, please."

His body froze at the sound once again, however, this time he turned his body into the bars. His back.

Oh, god, his back. The white tee he had been wearing the day they took him away was barely existing on his back at this point. The fabric was torn all over, showing the dozens of deep gashes beneath. His skin was practically rotting away from the outside, however, some were new. I had heard him, yesterday, I had heard his agonizing cries for release, which is exactly why I was so adamant about staying by the walls all day today. I had heard them do this to him, and there hadn't been a single thing I did or could've done about it. A sudden, almost traumatizingly powerful scream entered the small room we were in, the obsidian jumping at the opportunity of echoing; anything to prolong our agony. "PLEASE, I'M BEGGING, LET IT STOP."

My body choked up at his words, entirely shaking as his misery took its place again in my heart. I sat down, leaning my head against the metal bars as I let myself sob with him. I glanced up at where he sat on the other side of the cell, his hands pressing against his ears hard enough he could pop an eardrum, his body trembling with utter horror, slowly swaying from side to side. His back was on full display as he sat hunched over, some of the gashes tearing open again at the tension of his skin. Trails of blood soaked whatever was left of his shirt, and I couldn't help but wail out again, my heart physically feeling like it was imploding. "What are they doing to you, baby."

His movements stilled, a good few seconds passed. His arms slowly rose to get a grip on the barricade. As soon as he established the anchor, he pulled himself from the floor, slowly turning to look into my dark corner again. "Dream, it's me, please, c'mere." I pleaded, hope filling my eyes that even after three entire months of mental and physical torture, he would trust me. I reached my arms through the gaps, reaching for him as he came into grasping distance. He stood an inch from my extending fingers, almost gazing down at them tauntingly. He hadn't looked me in the eye yet, keeping his focus completely trained on my hands.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes from my begging hands and looked up at me. "It's you."

"Yes! Yes! It's me, baby!" I almost cheered, my face pressing painfully hard against the bars, my entire body bruising at the constant impact.

His face was completely frozen, utter shock coursing through his features as he tried to figure out what was happening. "They did this to me."

"I know baby, I know." I nodded, confirming his words for him. Rationalizing that he was okay to not trust me, knowing his friends had betrayed him ultimately. "Please, let me touch you, I need to touch you."

He fell to his knees, ushering his arms through the barms to hug me through them. he held my body tightly as his body silently shook with sobs. "They did this to me." I hummed into his ear in response, knowing how lonely he must've felt, how worthless and discouraged. I felt my hands get coated in his blood as I clung to him tightly, crying together in utter misery. "I just wanted to keep it all safe."

I spoke carefully, my voice barely over a whisper, "What do you mean, Dream?" I rested my forehead against the same cross he did, the gaps between the bars barely not big enough to fit my entire head through. They were just there for decoration, really, the thousands of blocks of obsidian and the torture was what really kept him in place.

I watched him sniffle softly, his eyes squeezed closed almost painfully so, the raspy sounds that left his torn throat were a mere ghost of his normally smooth and silky voice. "I just wanted to keep it all safe," A shuddered breath interrupted him. I was clinging to his words, desperately wanting to hear what no one else had dared explain to me; why he was here. "I just wanted to make them happy, keep them safe." He gripped my shirt as he pulled me closer into his body, the warmth I radiated probably being the first source of heat he'd felt in months, besides from the occasional glow of obsidian. "The things they cared about, keep them safe."

A shaky sob left my lips as I let his words sink into my brain, only now realizing what he had done. His trembling voice made the hairs on my neck stand up, goosebumps appearing on my arms.

"All I wanted was to keep them safe and happy," He paused as a sob left his lips again. "One big happy family."

#dreamwastaken #dream #dreamteam #dream team #dreamsmp #dream smp #dsmp #georgenotfound #sapnap #youtube #twitch #prisoner #prison #awesamdude #fluff #smut #imagine #one shot #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #imagines

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon Epilogue

Jason is a CEO: Epilogue

When i started this fic (around 9 months ago-- holy hell we could have had a whole human in that time) i didn’t expect it to go in the directions it did or to produce the characters and story it did. While it’s not one of my more action-packed fics it is still very special to me because 1. it’s my first jason centered fic (of which we don’t have much of); 2. it’s my first really long multi-chap (the longest before this was 10 parts); 3. i got to explore so many of my crackships and dynamics of friendship i may not have been able to if we (for example) stuck to canon; 4. most importantly i love this fic because it started out (the very first chapter) as an original story that just was not going anywhere but when i decided to make it a fanfic, suddenly ideas were pouring from my fingers like wine from a split barrel. these characters feel as much mine as they are Rick’s (which is a dangerous path to go down and i’m not actually claiming they’re mine-- gods please don’t sue me). in short i love this fic dearly, i’m so proud of how far all these little babies have come (especially jason) and i hope you feel even a smidge the joy i feel over this, as you go on to read the very soft conclusion to Jason Grace as CEO.

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

There was something almost magical in the gleaming silhouette of the Manhattan skyline. There was something hopeful about it too. 

Jason Grace stepped out of his car, relishing in the sound of the gravel crunching under his feet and the babble of people all around him. His suit—  a deep blue, dark enough to look black, and glittering with tiny silver diamantes that looked like stars— clung to his shoulders and hugged his legs. The theme of the evening was “Starry Night”. He figured coming as the actual night was accurate enough. Drew and Silena had done a beautiful job on his outfit, to no-one’s surprise. He would see them here tonight, along with their husband, and the rest of his friends. And tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he would be off to Rome, with the man that filled his life with overwhelming light.

“Jase,”  Someone called out from the darkness, “Are you hiding from us because you put two different shoes on again and are too embarrassed to say?”

“Shut up Annabeth,” He laughed, “I’m coming.”

He walked towards the group of silhouettes, making out Leo and Annabeth, and Nico and Will, and coming from behind them were the dressmakers and their Charles. Hazel and Frank would be making an appearance later in the night.

“You all look beautiful.” He smiled, hugging them, kissing cheeks and foreheads, relishing in their closeness and their comfort, as he has always done. And they did in fact look beautiful. Annabeth in a dress of blue swirling around her and pooling at her feet— the colours matched the sapphire on her ring finger; Leo in a matching floor-length skirt and a sheer polo-neck that showed off every clean brown line of his skin; Nico and Will, in contrast, were complete opposites, the former in a black suit with silver jewellery, and the latter in an off white with gold accents; Silena, Drew and Charlie all had on suits with various parts of the galaxy embroidered in gold, threading a spectacular tapestry through the emerald green. All in all, his friends were really hot.

“Y’all ready?” Will drawled, tilting his head to the entrance of the hotel a little way away.

“Let’s go celebrate!” He winked in response.

And then they’re walking towards the bright lights, launching into conversations and updates and work and jokes. It was familiar in the way driving home after a long time away was, or catching a waft of the specific smell of your elementary school art room, or seeing someone from your childhood and slipping into a comfortable back-and-forth.

“Jase,” Charlie scooted next to him, breaking away from his conversation with Nico, “How’s the construction for the new section of the outdoor center going? I heard you hit a snag last week with the design?”

“Yea there was a few centimeters off with one of the structures and it caused the whole area to be off balance,” He scrunched his nose, remembering the horror from last week. “I’m just grateful we caught it in time.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since that center went up,” His friend marvelled, eyes wide with the disbelief of time. He knew the feeling well.

“It’s crazy. I came back from my holiday and then everything was just on fast forward.” He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m happy though, with the progress and how far we’ve come.”

“You’ve just burst and grown and brightened,” There’s that soft smile, the one that made all of Jason’s insides turn to mush. The one that told him he was loved in every capacity.

“I know.” He felt the blush creeping up his skin, pale after the long winter months. “I don’t owe it to myself though. All of you guys have—” 

“No way mister,” Annabeth chimed in, “You absolutely owe it to yourself. You got yourself there, we just cheered you on.”

“Yea,” Leo nudged his arm, a gentleness shimmering in his brown eyes. “You were the hero of your own story.”

He muttered thank you’s and tried to embrace the blush but their love and joy and pride still drowned him. Before anyone else could pile on the sincerity they were walking into the lobby and being ushered to the large, elegant ballroom three doors down.

There was a collective gasp from their group, audible even above the low hum of chatter, and the soft jazz drifting through the speakers. The entire room had been made to look like they were standing inside the middle of “Starry Night”. Like they were the townsfolk parked outside their houses witnessing the strange and magical sky above them. Swirls of blue in the draping curtains and circles of yellow in the chandeliers and wisps of the cypress trees growing from the walls as if the very room had been built around a tree.

“This is—” He didn’t even have the words to fully express his awe. If he were an art major he would have died from the beauty of it all. As it stood he could barely keep himself up.

“I know,” A voice said quietly from behind him. “It’s almost divine.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even turn around to see who it was. He simply stepped back and let arms envelope him. He didn’t need to check, because he knew, he would always know. In the heat of their skin, and the hum of their voice, and the love that radiated between them like scorching summer sun.

“Moró mou,” He sighed, tipping his head back to rest against a shoulder. From this angle he could see blazing green eyes and jet-black curls, and impossibly high cheekbones, and a jaw sculpted by Michaelangelo.

“Hello my love,” Percy Jackson smiled. “How are you?”

“Happy.” He muttered, lips brushing against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Good,” The man nodded, squeezing his waist where his arms still wrapped around. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I will not just survive through it,” His eyes crinkled at the corner as pure joy washed through him, “I will live through it, and I will enjoy every minute of it.” He knew the reason for the question, for the concern. But tonight it was not needed. He was nothing but excited and elated for the hours, and then days, weeks, years to come.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

A glass tinkled somewhere to their right, grabbing their attention. And then Zoe and Reyna were stepping together and drawing people towards them as if they were gravity, magnets, the center. They looked it certainly: Zoe in a stark white dress, hugging her figure, shimmering like stardust every time she moved; and Reyna in a watery blue, gauzy and flowing in time with her body, where she goes it will ripple behind her.

“Thank you,” His lawyer started, giving them a dazzling smile. “For being here. All of you.” She looked them each in the eye, her own filled with love and… were those tears? From his no nonsense, boss lady lawyer? Oh he was so going to give her a hug and then tease her endlessly about it. 

“We have a thousand people to thank for all of this,” She gestured to the room, “And a thousand more to thank just for being here, but that will come in the form of surprise take-me-homes at the end of the night.”

“However,” Zoe’s voice, still as strong and quiet as ever, rang out across the room. “There are two people we would like to thank right here, right now.” Her smile lit up the world as her eyes landed on them. “In typical us fashion, it’s a little out of the ordinary but please can both our ex-boyfriend’s come up here.” 

The crowd burst into laughter, him and Percy with them, as they detangled themselves from each other and walked hand in hand to the front of the room.

“As you can see,” Reyna grinned. Jason held in the groan he knew would accompany her next words. “We did a Partner Swap.”

The laughter only loudened, people whistling, and clapping in time with their amusement.

“I will spare you the sordid details,” Zoe’s own giggling softened to a smile, “But two years ago, after Jason and I had broken up, I called him in a panic asking for help. And despite being on a much needed holiday where he happened to meet a certain someone,” She winked at them, eyebrows waggling comically, “He listened to me, then made use of his contacts and connected me with Reyna.”

“And after I charmed the suit off of her, and won her lawsuit,” Reyna stepped in, grinning wildly, “She agreed to pop open a bottle of champagne and celebrate our win.”

“I’m not quite sure about the charming part, angel.” Zoe quirked an eyebrow, “But yes one champagne bottle and the rest was history.”

“In conclusion to this whole ordeal,” His lawyer turned to them, “Jase, Percy, we have a present for you, to thank you for loving us, and for loving us enough to let us go, and furthermore for bringing us together.”

Zoe handed them an envelope but before they bothered to open it they pulled the women in for a hug, thanking and congratulating them. He would not change what they had for the world. He will be grateful forever. He will love them even longer.

Percy ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and read with him.

The universe has a funny way of pulling stars together but we know with certainty that the four of us are born from the same constellation. Thank you for everything. We know we can never really repay you but please accept this as a start. 

Tucked into the last fold of the paper were two plane tickets to Japan. The holiday they had discussed once, a Saturday game night that ended with the four of them huddled around the fire in Zoe’s apartment, chattering softly about this and that. Printed in small font at the bottom of the page was a cherry blossom branch and more text that read,

Get married losers, we want joint holidays so we can get the couples packages.

He bubbled with laughter at that, and looked up at his friends, tears pooling in his own eyes.

“Alright everyone!” Reyna clapped her hands, gathering the attention of the humming crowd. “Let’s get this engagement party started.”

And then music filled the room and people dragged each other to the middle of the space and there were cheers as the song came into focus and truly Jason understood the meaning of life that night.

After they had thanked Reyna and Zoe again, and chatted with their other friends Percy pulled him to the dance floor.

“Jase,” His boyfriend cupped the back of his neck, arranging their bodies into a work of art. “We have wonderful friends.”

“The very best,” He agreed, swaying their hips in time with the beat. “We have built an empire with them by our side.”

“Will you be the emperor then?”

“There is no monarchy in this kingdom,” He smiled, blue eyes glittering and bright. “It is just us, and our love, and everything beautiful the world has ever had to offer.” He saw oceans reflecting back at him, wonder soaking in his words, happiness pressing against his lips.

His boyfriend pressed their foreheads together, bodies still moving to music far away. “And if we look further?” Percy breathed, “Past the empire, to the horizon beyond?”

“It is all home,” Jason Grace smiled. “We are home, my love.”

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

Okay there are so many people to thank and you best believe i’m going to thank them all because this fic would literally not exist without them.

@nishlicious-01​​ my favourite person, my biggest supporter and the only person who gets to shout at me when im writing fanfic at 1am because i’m not sleeping but also because ‘why am i not reading it ciara????’

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​ for every comment, every like, every complaint you took when the writing demon was on strike. you have my heart. id be lost and a little lonely without you.

@leyontheway​​ your comments on this fic were golden and i often came back to them just for that extra burst of motivation and serotonin. i found a friend in you and now i can’t imagine my life without you.

@msdrpreist​​ Sky, mi cielo, you are one in a billion and i cannot believe i found you (and you me) across all this space and time. thank you for your unwavering support and your wonderful thoughts.

@larrikin-is-a-himbo​​ when we started this fic i believe you were @/queenbrunnhilde (or something to that effect) but although your username has changed your loveliness and endless support hasn’t. Thank you for sticking along for the ride

@spoopylucy​​​ Lucy... what do i even say to the person who singlehandedly changed my day, week, mood every time i saw a reblog from them? your tags were the start and the end. they made every upload an exciting task. and i knew no matter what happened in the fic or how long it took as soon as i got a notif from you i couldn’t be anything but happy. thank you my Luce, you’re an angel!

@not-hiesenberg​ for being my ‘ciara what the fuck even does this say? do you know how to spell?’ checker when i was too tired (more like too lazy) to do it myself.

@lesbian-peanuts​​ thank you for the love! you were one of the first people interested in this little universe and i can never thank you enough for that​

@legendary-cupcake​​ your spam when reading this was such a happy moment in my life and im ecstatic that you stayed for the ride! thank you​

to all the people on my tag list, who have liked this fic, and especially those who have commented: i see you, i love you, and i thank you with a heart full of happiness. you changed my world.

#empires on the horizon #epilogue #jason is a ceo #jason grace #percy jackson #jercy #jercy fic #jason #grace #percy #jackson #PJJG fanfic #pjjg series #pjssg fanfic #pjssg series

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Holiday Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 East of Eden by  WriteSprite Rated:  Explicit Words:  41,122 Tags:  Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Parseltongue, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Biting, Drinking Games Summary:  When Harry receives a dodgy brochure for an island vacation, he isn't sure he should attend. After a bit of a push, he decides to go for it and winds up spending the week in paradise. At least it would be, if it weren't for that pesky blond git. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take My Hand by daisymondays Rated:  Explicit Words:  12814 Tags: Summer, Summer Romance, Pining, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, First Kiss, Drinking Games, Harry Potter Has Dimples, Draco Malfoy Can't Cope, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Auror Partners, Draco Has Feels To Spare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Meddling Friends, Touching, Soooo Much Touching, HP: EWE Summary:  Draco has long resigned himself to pining after Harry... that is until an invite on the annual Ministry holiday gives him a chance to change everything. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 December Never Felt So Wrong by MaesterChill Rated:  Explicit Words:  50001 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Angst, Mystery, time skip, 00's Music Sung Badly, Fluff, Amnesia, A niffler, 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2018, curse magic, Knitting, Sex, Cuddles, Blow Jobs, First Time Sex, wanking, Advent Fic, Christmas, Magical Artifacts, Falling In Love, Magical Theory, drarry dads, Rimming, Memory Loss, A tiny bell, Sharing a Bed, Dad Jokes, Cursed objects Summary:  'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side. All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Tell Me the End at the Beginning by harryromper Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  36591 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, St Mungo's Hospital, Healer Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Hermione Granger, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Christmas Presents, Christmas Decorations, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Food Hall Turkeys, Advent Calendar, Healer Luna Lovegood, Kreacher, Minor Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Yule Logs, Misheard Christmas carols Summary:  St Mungo’s is the last place anyone wants to spend the festive season. Harry finds himself there anyway. Or: Harry's an Auror suspended from duty, Malfoy's wearing the hell out of three-piece suits, Hermione is entirely over everything, and Kreacher just wants to be left alone to decorate for Christmas. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Too Cold Outside (For Angels to Fly) by gracerene Rated:  Explicit Words:  62688 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-Hogwarts, Creature Fic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Veela Draco Malfoy, Veela (Harry Potter), Auror Partners, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Aurors, Case Fic, Murder Mystery, Mild Gore, Advent Calendar, Christmas, Drinking, Scotland, United Kingdom, Muggle London, POV Alternating, Coffee Shops, Past Character Death, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Crime Fighting, Duelling, Burns, Blood and Injury, Bars and Pubs, Getting Together, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Bisexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Anal Sex, Riding, Shower Sex, Hand Jobs, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2019, Switching, Wings, Wing Kink, Veela Mates, Mating Bond, Anal Fingering, Bonding, Dirty Talk Summary:  The Auror Department and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are working to create a new division partnering human wizards and Magical Beings in order to more effectively police crime involving any and all classifications of Magical Creature. Auror Harry Potter jumps at the chance to join the pilot programme, but he starts to regret his rashness when he discovers who he's to be partnered with: Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 If the Fates Allow by Saras_Girl Rated:  Mature Words:  80957 Tags: N/A Summary:  What's that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He'll eat some cake and drink some wine Because he is completely FINE. --A story about life's disregard for our plans. [2017 advent story] ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A New Peace by MalenkayaCherepakha Rated:  Explicit Words:  5566 Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex Summary:  Of all the people Draco expected to walk into his cafe in Muggle London, Harry Potter was not one of them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 flashback, warm nights by warmfoothills Rated:  Mature Words:  13068 Tags: Deathly Hallows AU, or more specifically, the godric’s hollow christmas shitshow of 1997, but with ron and draco!, and no snake-animated corpses!, instead:, Grand theft auto, a lot of blood, teenage fugitives, a time loop, Horcrux Hunting, one psychopathic quinquagenarian, Bodily Injuries, the ~power of love, Breaking and Entering, hospital food, questionable headwear, kissing in the backseat, kissing in the freezer aisle, Kissing in the Snow Summary:  “What’s killing me is that I actually quite fucking like Christmas, festival-for-a-personally-irrelevant-religion-turned-commercialised-garbage-holiday though it may be, and now I’m stuck in the perpetual almost-there of it all with an idiot who gets himself cut up every time no matter how differently I try and do things!” “Killing you?” Potter asks. “I thought I was the one who’s about to get my torso sliced into?” ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl Rated:  Mature Words:  61080 Tags: N/A Summary:  Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 With A Little Help From Hermione by naarna Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  6983 Tags: N/A Summary:  Secret Santa at Hogwarts with every House participating in the name of unity... And Hermione suddenly finds herself in the position of a matchmaker. ❤️ Read on Fanfiction.net

📜 Faint Indirections  by ignatiustrout Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  29793 Tags: University, Wizarding World of the United States of America, Americans, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Librarian Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Pet Snake, Parselmouth Harry Potter, College Student Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Anxious Harry Potter, Baby Gay Draco Malfoy, Bisexual Harry Potter, Friendship, Family Dinners, Halloween parties, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Romance, Misunderstandings, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Book Fair Summary: Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The 12 Dates of Draco  by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn) Rated:  Explicit Words:  16808 Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, Light Angst, Christmas Smut, Anal Sex Summary:  Holiday dialing, desperate attempts at reconciliation, and 12 blind dates with Draco Malfoy... oh my! OR The day Harry just can't seem to get past. But what is the universe trying to tell him? And when did Draco Malfoy get so bloody fit? He's got 12 days to figure it out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Christmas Is For Sex (and Love), So Give It To Me by GoldenTruth813 Rated:  Explicit Words:  53218 Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Christmas, Bondage, misuse of frosting, making gingerbread houses, coming without touching, Blowjobs, Fingering, anal penetration, Rimming, misuse of fairy lights, Praise Kink, Nipple Clamps, erotic massages, Lingerie, Harry in Lingerie, Butt Plugs, Masterbation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Topping from the Bottom, Ice Play, misuse of snowballs, misuse of brandy custard, veritasium, Public Sex, misuse of christmas candles, Wax Play, floating blow jobs, bubble baths, Candy Canes, misuse of candy canes, sex with feelings, Clubbing, naughty letters, babysitting teddy, Edging, healing past trauma, really so much more than sex, but lots of sex too, spiked hot cocoa, Drunk confessions, Anal penetration with a foreign object, french!draco, Switching Summary:  Draco buys Harry an Advent House, intent on helping Harry create all new holiday memories, and have a lot of great sex in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 As it Should Be by leo_draconis Rated:  Mature Words:  5670 Tags: N/A Summary:  It's Christmas Eve, and Draco's world has just shattered around him. Will a Christmas miracle give him a second chance? ❤️ Read on LJ

📜 Dream by the Fire  by GallifreyisBurning Rated:  Mature Words:  11431 Tags: Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Non-Explicit Sex, No Angst, seriously no angst whatsoever, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Coffee Shop Owner Harry Potter, Writer Draco Malfoy, Tattooed Draco Malfoy, Magical Tattoos, Memory Magic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Wizarding History (Harry Potter), Friends to Lovers Summary:  When Draco Malfoy resurfaces in England after eight years abroad—tattooed, pierced, and wanting to take over a corner of Harry's coffee shop to work on a writing project—Harry can't help but be intrigued. Where has he been? What is he working on? Why here? And why does he have to look so stupidly hot with all those tattoos? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The best Christmas he ever had by gnarf Rated:  Teen And Up Words:  1965 Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Post-War, Fred Weasley Lives, Christmas at the Burrow (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, Drinking, Dancing, Family Feels Summary:  Christmas had never been less appealing to him than this year. That was until Arthur Weasley showed up at his door, dressed as Santa, inviting him to the Burrow. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The One Where Ginny Keeps a Secret, Sort of  by Theartfulldodger Rated:  Teen And Up Words:  4039 Tags:  Fluff, Christmas, Established Relationship, Non-Linear Narrative, Group Vacation Summary:  Harry is determined to have a good time with Ginny and Pansy for a trip to NYC over the winter holidays, even if Draco can't join them. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Adventures in Truth and Texting by fluxweed Rated:  Explicit Words:  7981 Tags: Texting, Drunk Texting, Sexting, Veritaserum, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Auror Harry Potter, Drinking, Christmas, Advent Fic, Awkwardness, everyone has phones, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary:  Former Death Eaters are being targeted with a Veritaserum curse – it’s permanent, and makes victims speak aloud their every thought. Luckily, it’s easier to control when writing – and Hermione is trying to introduce Muggle technology to the wizarding world. An advent fic featuring texting, identity struggles, and a Draco Malfoy who will literally not stop talking. ❤️ Read on AO3

#holiday #vacation #drarry #drarry rec #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

[michellejackson]

It’s the final chapter bitchessss

PART ONE PART TWO PART TREE PART FOUR PART FIVE

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2315

Kieu My realizes she got it all wrong.

“GOD, Fatou! I don’t have to talk to you all the time! Can’t you take a hint? I didn’t want to talk to you! I don’t want to talk to you! I need some space, okay!? I NEED to be alone. Go talk to your girlfriend or something…”

It pained Kieu My to say these words, but if she didn’t push Fatou away now she wasn’t sure when she could. The thought of pushing Fatou away never appealed to her before, not when she made out with Yara, not when she told her about her feelings for Yara – not once did she think of pushing Fatou away. She needed her in her life, she knew that. Even though they would never be romantically involved, Kieu My knew she needed Fatou as a friend. She meant too much to her.

But now, in this moment, Kieu My wanted to get away from Fatou, needed to get away. She didn’t want to talk to her, she didn’t want to hear her out, she just wanted to be left alone to push down her feelings until she was ready to put up a front again. Fatou could always read her though.

“Kieu My, what’s going on with you? Did something happen?”

The rest of the fight was a blur to her, but she wasn’t ignorant to what she had said. Her intention was never to be cruel, but she was way too familiar with the shield it provided her. She wanted to stop, she could see how her words impacted Fatou, even though she tried to hide it.

“You know what? I will leave.”

She knew she shouldn’t have felt peace at these words, but she couldn’t take it anymore. Kieu My’s self-hatred only grew the more she talked, so when she finally succeeded, when Fatou finally decided she wasn’t worth it, she relaxed. She wanted out of this fight as soon as possible.

“But I will make you listen to me-” then Fatou had continued talking, and it got even worse. She’d called her out for not listening to her, for talking shit, and this she understood. She was rightfully called out. But then it got weirder, she started rambling about Kieu My not listening to her talk about her feelings, which she did. That’s exactly how she’d ended up like this in the first place. Okay fine, today she had cut her off, but could you blame her?

“I don’t know if it’s because you don’t care about me or if you’re just trying to avoid an awkward situation”

This felt like a punch to the gut, she never wanted Fatou to believe that she didn’t care about her, but this was unfair. Her not wanting to hear Fatou ramble about Yara a second time did not correlate to her not caring about Fatou. Her not wanting Fatou to break her heart did not correlate to her not caring about Fatou.

“An awkward situation” she’s really trying to rub it in, huh? “An awkward situation” … that’s where Fatou was wrong, it wouldn’t lead to an awkward situation. Hearing Fatou reject her would lead to a devastating situation, a situation Kieu My wasn’t ready for. Even with all she knew now, hearing the words come out of Fatou’s mouth would break her heart even more.

But then she said something crazy. Something that completely caught her off guard.

“And for the record, I’m not with Yara, I never was with Yara. No matter how much you want me to be with her I never will, I only made out with her on New Year’s to make you jealous, which obviously was a ridiculous idea in the first place, because I know you’ll never feel for me the way I feel for you, and that’s okay, but I just wish that you would just tell me that instead of ignoring me and pushing me away and making me feel like absolute shit!”

And then Fatou had left, not once looking back to see Kieu My’s jaw on the floor.

Which brings us to now.

Kieu My were frozen in her place. What did she just say? Her brain couldn’t even comprehend the words that had come out of Fatou’s mouth. She kept trying to play the words back in her mind.

“I only made out with her on New Year’s to make you jealous”

“To make you jealous”

“You”

What? That couldn’t be right, Kieu My must’ve misunderstood. Hope and desperation filled her, hope for the possibility that maybe Fatou loved her too, desperation for it to be the case. She swayed a little, suddenly dizzy. She thought back to all the times Fatou had tried to talk to her about her feelings. When they laid in bed, and Fatou said she’d “talked to Yara about crushes” Kieu My had just brushed her off after that, thinking she’d tell her about her crush on Yara. God, what did she say after?

“Yara was talking about how I should, well, talk about my feelings… with, well, you…”

Fatou weren’t about to reject her at all. She had to sit down.

All this time, Kieu My had been so sure that Fatou wanted to talk about her stupid crush on her, to tell her it would never happen, to cut her off. But in the end, it had been Fatou trying to confess her feelings, and Kieu My blowing her off, again and again. How insecure had she been? How could she not have seen this?

She had been so awful to Fatou just minutes before. Did she really have a right to run after her now?

Fuck. She didn’t care. She needed the truth. She needed Fatou to tell her the truth.

She ran down the stairs of her apartment building and right out the door without putting on shoes or a jacket. Fatou couldn’t have gone far. She looked around frantically as she got outside, but it was hard to see through the pouring rain. Of course it was raining, it was just her luck. She was running in only socks, trying to find her love.

Kieu My started to curse herself as she ran in the rain towards Fatou’s place. How had she gotten this far? It wasn’t before minutes later she realized why when she spotted her in the far distance, of course; the girl was skating. Kieu My ran faster, until she was within shouting distance.

“What the hell did you say?”

Fatou quickly stopped her board, almost tumbling off it. She turned around, confused. Kieu My slowed her run and instead started walking towards her.

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”

Her voice was shaking, she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold rain or her nerves. Fatou barely looked at her.

“Kieu My, you’re barely dressed. Go back home.”

She took long, quick steps closer, they now stood less than a meter apart. She could see that Fatou had been crying – no – is crying. Her stomach clenched. She’d been crying because of her. She had half a thought to wipe her tears away, but she was too scared to touch the girl. She continued on,

“what did you say, Fatou? Are you in love with me?”

Fatou looked pained. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here, but Kieu My could see the moment Fatou decided to face the music. Her chin rose, and she looked Kieu My straight in the eyes with a put-on stern expression as she said,

“as if you didn’t know that already”.

And there it was. Fatou really thought Kieu My had been blowing her off because of her feelings for her. Because of her feelings for her. Fatou had feelings for her. Romantic ones. For a second, Kieu My was awestruck. She didn’t know what to say. Fatou was in love with her. Her. Not Yara, but her. For once she let her tears fall.

“I didn’t”

Fatou brushed it off. Kieu My could see she was bothered, but she put on a act. Just like Kieu My had done mere minutes before.

“Well, now you know. And what difference does it make? You were clearly happy to have me out of your hair.”

Kieu My was drenched. Unlike Fatou, she didn’t have a raincoat to shield her. She just stood there looking at the love of her life in a singlet and some sweatpants, while the rain tried it’s best to drown her. She hugged herself.

“Since when?”

Despite her best effort, her voice cracked, and she could see Fatou starting to worry about her.

“Why does it matter?” She let go of the stern act, and now she just sounded defeated. Kieu My went soft.

“Since when, Fatou?”

She moved closer to her, almost closing the gap. Fatou looked at her like she was a question and an answer all the same.

“Since we were eight and you punched Constantin for making fun of my hair.”

The answer was instant, she didn’t even have to think about it. Kieu My’s heart warmed, and she couldn’t help but smile. Fatou had been in love with her since they were children. All this time…

“You’ve been in love with me all this time?”

Something came over Fatou, and her stern expression was back. She backed away from Kieu My.

“What do you want Kieu My? Do you want to humiliate me or something? Done. Now leave me alone.”

She threw down her board, but before she could hop on it Kieu My took her hand and yanked her back. She didn’t let go. Her hand was warm in comparison to Kieu My’s and although Fatou tried to get her hand back, Kieu My didn’t let go. She closed the distance before Fatou could even open her mouth. Her hands cupped Fatou’s face. Fatou looked up at her, expression filled with confusion.

This was it.

This was the moment Kieu My had been waiting for. There’s no turning back now, and for once, Kieu My found that she didn’t want to go back either.

“I’m in love with you too”

The words came out a whisper, but she could see Fatou registering them all the same. She looked to her lips, and then back to her eyes, her beautiful eyes. Fatou didn’t move, so Kieu My moved for her. Slowly, she nudged Fatou’s nose with hers, giving her an opportunity to push her away. She didn’t. Before Kieu My got a chance to close the distance entirely, Fatou wrapped an arm around her neck and tip toed to meet her lips.

They weren’t in sync at first.

While Fatou clung to Kieu My with all she had, kissing her like she might disappear at any time, Kieu My held Fatou’s face gently, afraid to be pushed away, and kissed her like she had all the time in the world. Because she had. And in the end, Fatou realized that too.

-

Hours later, they were lying in Kieu My’s bed, finally dry after the pouring rain. Fatou was wearing clothes borrowed from her girlfriend, and Kieu My was just taking it all in. Their legs were tangled and Fatou held her close as she kissed every inch of her face. The position was familiar, she’d lain in bed with Fatou multiple times, cuddling, but now she got to kiss her, to touch her places she couldn’t before, to openly love her. She didn’t know she could feel so happy and so… free. The smile never left her face.

Fatou continued kissing her, now wandering down her neck. She untangled her legs from Kieu My so she could reposition herself to sit on top of her, each leg on a different side of her body, hands positioned on her stomach, trapping her.

“When did you know you were in love with me?” Fatou asked softly, with so much love in her voice, in her beautiful voice, and a twinkle in her eye. The extra weight on top of her relaxed her, grounded her in a way, and she’d never felt more at peace. She placed one hand on Fatou’s thigh as she said, “remember New Year’s?” and Fatou gasped, taking ahold of her hand.

“No!”

Kieu My grinned and nodded. Fatou groaned as she bent down to nuzzle her neck.

“God that was such a mess– Yara have been telling me I’m an idiot every day since then” Fatou admits into her neck, and Kieu My can’t help but giggle. She starts playing with her hair.

“As she should,” she jokes.

Fatou looks at her with a fake firm expression “hey, you should respect your girlfriend”

“oh, is that what we are?” Kieu My grins, cupping Fatou’s face as to kiss her for the hundredth time.

“Kieu My, if this is not us being girlfriends I’m leaving and never talking to you again.”

“I will not be threatened and bullied into silence” Fatou grins too then and leans down to kiss her softly. Kieu My asks for her to lay on top of her, and she does. They’re silent for a while, just appreciating the moment. The little moments.

“I’m sorry Fatou” Kieu My puts her arms around her girlfriends’ neck, keeping her in place while she caresses her arm, “for what?”

“For pushing you away, I never thought… I never thought you’d want me like this” she admits with a lump in her throat, glad they’re not face to face as speaks. She further tangles her fingers gently into Fatou’s hair, keeping her down, not letting her look at her.

Fatou stops caressing her arm and is silent for a second. She removes Kieu My’s hand from her hair and instead entangle their fingers as she looks up at her, all smiles.

“You could never push me away, Kieu My”

#druck #druck fanfic #fatou x kieu my #kieutou #kieutou fic