#still not very skilled in drawing kisses but this came out alright! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shyvioletcat · 8 months

Text

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 10

~ Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry ~

You might remember this fic from last year. Well, I had plans to make it a one off thing but then I couldn't help it and I got another idea. And I just want to say thank you to everyone who read the first part and loved it. It's so fun when you guys love something as much as I do. Without further delay, please enjoy Part 2 who we really and truly have to thank Rowaelin month and @rowaelinscourt for.

~~~~~

All Aelin could do was stare at her own reflection in the mirror of her dressing room vanity. She didn’t have long before she had to leave her sanctuary and face a crowd of strangers like her entire world hadn’t been rocked at its foundations. Acting was a talent she’d taken to at a very young age, the tales of her dramatics often told around the dinner table. Aelin would be fine, she’d put on one of her charismatic smiles and give her audience her all, and everything would be fine. But for now, it was only her stunned expression to keep her company.

That was how Rowan found her however long later, silent and still as her mind was whirring with thoughts of the future. Aelin had lost track of the minutes spent doing absolutely nothing, and as Rowan appeared in the mirror she startled, a hand flying to her chest as if to stop her heart from flying out of her chest.

“Holy gods, you scared me,” she breathed as Rowan removed his cap and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” Rowan murmured onto her skin as he kissed her again. When he noticed she still hadn’t moved, not in the slightest, to look at him or seek out another kiss his voice changed from teasing to concern. “Are you all right?”

Aelin finally found the compulsion to move, swivelling in her makeup chair to face Rowan. It was always infinitely more pleasant when he could come to the studio without the threat of being in front of the camera. Not as exciting for her, but she was still happy to see him. When he came to visit her here Rowan had to sneak in and from the sheer amount of times he’d done he’d developed quite the skill for it. The tricky part was not drawing attention, and with years of practice he had the art of blending in down to a fine art.

The key was appearing so much unlike his professional self that it would take more than a double take to place why he looked so familiar. So today with his scruffy hat hair, hoodie and stubble covered cheeks, he was a far cry from the suave and composed image he gave the camera.

Since Rowan’s last public performance here he’d been promoting his new album and gone on tour. Over the past eight months Aelin had hardly seen him except via a phone screen. The last time they had managed to see each other in person was when he had shows in Suria and snuck away when he should have been sleeping in to come see her. That was about six weeks ago.

“We have a situation,” Aelin had said, looking up at him and jerking her head towards the vanity. “And I think we have this room and that couch to blame.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed then looked to where she had directed. His eyes went wide and he did a few double takes before his gaze finally settled on her. There was an open question in his eyes and Aelin just nodded. Then he let out a shaky laugh as he realised fully what this all meant, a hand rubbing his stubbled chin.

“Well, I guess this changes things,” Rowan finally said.

“Indeed it does,” Aelin confirmed. “We need a plan, and I think I have one.”

THREE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER…

Aelin always got butterflies waiting behind the curtain for the final call of action. The crowd was still humming with chatter and she could hear the last camera checks over her in-ear monitor. This time the butterflies were worse, enough to make her nauseous. Today’s show would be one to be remembered and it had taken a good amount of deceit and scheming to get here.

“Alright, Aelin,” a voice said into her ear. “Curtains open in five, four, three…”

Aelin took in a deep breath, the last two counts sounding in her head. Two, One.

The applause started and then the curtains opened, Aelin taking the ten steps forward to get to her mark. She smiled and waved while she made eye contact with a few people seated in the audience. There were cheers and whistles, and when it went on a little too long Aelin held up her hands to start quieting them down as the prompt screen undoubtedly displayed QUIET PLEASE. Once the audience had settled Aelin began her welcoming monologue.

“Thank you so much,” she said, her smile stretching wide, and there were cheers again. “Now, now, as much as I would love to stand here and lap up every bit of your admiration, I don't get paid for that.” There was a healthy amount of laughter. “I get paid to put on a show and what a show do we have planned for today. They’re always special, what am I talking about? It reminds of something my father used to say, slightly inappropriate but I think—”

The strum of a guitar interrupted her and Aelin made sure she looked affronted even though she knew exactly what was going on. When the the chord turned into music she sent a confused look to the audience a millisecond before they broke out in raucous cheers. Aelin whirled around to see Rowan strutting out, centrestage from where she had been standing moments before with the smallest of smug smiles on his face. He was looking down at his guitar and Aelin put her hands on her hips to show her displeasure. Rowan had the gall to wink at her. If he wasn’t careful he’d give the whole gig away.

Even though it wasn’t his job, it was Fenrys who darted out from the wings and dropped a mic and stand in front of Rowan, and then he was gone again. It became a stand off, Rowan playing while he challenged her with a look that told her to get off his stage, even though it was her stage.

He had to win for the whole ploy to work, so Aelin gave an overexaggerated and exasperated sigh, her hands falling to her sides as half turned to the audience as she said, “I guess I know when I’m not needed.”

It was hard, but Aelin withheld her own smile as she gave Rowan the limelight. He hadn’t stopped playing, the chords effortlessly coming from the instrument and he never missed a beat. Aelin found a spot by the foot of the low steps near her interview platform, right beside Fenrys who had decided not to head out of sight. He nudged her with his elbow and winked. Aelin tried not to look too pleased with herself.

The tempo picked up and Rowan readied himself in front of the microphone. Aelin’s breath caught in her chest, it always did in the anticipation of the song beginning. It always happened when Rowan was about to sing. He closed his eyes, grounding himself to the melody and then his deep voice filled the studio.

I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

“Sweet?” Fenrys muttered under his breath.

Aelin tried very hard not to snort and ruin Rowan’s performance. “Artistic licence. Now hush”

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was.

They might not have been kids but they were young and stupid enough to mistake their mutual animosity for other feelings that were way at the other end of the spectrum. When they had admitted to their true feelings it was like Aelin’s entire world had fallen into place. Rowan was everything she wanted and she had just been too willfully ignorant to see. Thank the gods they had come to their senses. Eventually.

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight

Aelin remembered that night, Rowan had surprised her after she’d been deep cleaning her house all day. It was the first time that Rowan had seen her so dishevelled. Her cheeks had burned, he didn’t notice, just sweeping into her kitchen to make dinner. They had sat outside, eating on a blanket, and after Rowan had pulled her to her feet to dance under the night’s sky, the cooling grass beneath their feet.

The backing curtain rose, revealing a small band to accompany Rowan and his guitar playing. The music swelled to new heights and Aelin was reminded of just how much she loved this song.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

Unconsciously Aelin’s hand drifted to her stomach. It was an unconscious gesture, but how could she not when he was singing about that.

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this

Darling, you look perfect tonight

When the instrumental bridge began Rowan stopped playing, letting the backing band have their moment. Confused, Aelin sent him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. He just pulled his guitar over his head, walked over and handed it over to Fenrys. Before Aelin could even ask aloud about whatever was going on right now Rowan had taken her hand and spun her into a dance. Fenrys’ laugh was audible and she knew they must have looked quite the sight. It was hard not to melt into his embrace, which came to her so naturally in this moment. They were still on camera, and they had images to maintain. Her the larger than life social star, he the cold and callous musician, although with this break in character Rowan’s was very quickly unravelling. Aelin knew this song by heart, he’d played it for her enough, so she knew when he had danced too long for that standard interlude, but the band covered him.

He did dance her back over to her spot by the stage before it was too obvious that he was stalling and took his guitar back. Rowan was effortlessly able to join back in, his voice impassioned as he started the final rendition of the chorus.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

By the gods he did. With everything that he had been through and what he had given to Aelin without question, he deserved every bit of happiness they had together. As her thoughts ran off the music slowed, Rowan closing out the song, strumming the last few chords himself and ending it on a truly acoustic note.

You look perfect tonight

The applause was deafening, and Aelin joined in. Like he always did, Rowan went a little shy when accepting the adoration being rained down on him. His cheeks went a delectable shade of pink and he nodded at the crowd who just kept clapping. Aelin gave Fenrys a jab in the arm to get him moving off camera and out of the way. Knowing the camera was now on her, Aelin put on her signature teasing smirk, clapping as Rowan approached. Gods damn him, but he held out his hand like the gentleman to help her up the miniscule steps. His back was to the camera, convenient as he scowled at the towering heels she’d chosen to wear today. He would say they were a safety concern, Aelin was adamant they made her outfit.

They sat in the arms chairs, sinking into the plush cushions. Their eyes were on each other while they waited for the commotion to die down enough for the interview to start. Rowan must have made quite the impression because it took the QUIET PLEASE flashing longer than usual for the audience to follow the instruction. When they finally did Aelin grinned.

“How dare you interrupt my monologue,” she said.

Rowan had assumed his cool and aloof demeanour, and he just shrugged. “That song was more heartfelt than any spiel you were about to give.”

Aelin gasped. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

In fact, she’d woken him up with soft kisses that had led to more, and he’d left bed in the best mood possible.

“Now that song,” Aelin said, drawing out each word. “It’s a love song, and from those beautifully written, heartfelt words, it feels like it might have been written about someone special.”

“If you have a question, Aelin, just ask it,” Rowan challenged.

She lent forward, the thrill of the game exciting her. “I have many questions. First, what can you tell me about this,” Aelin waved her hand flippantly over her shoulder, where she knew a photo from Rowan’s Instagram was being shown. “I showed this post a few months ago and I can tell you there were more than a few broken hearts in this studio.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the audience. Aelin shot a glance at the picture, admiring the large emerald set in a gold band. Rowan couldn’t have done better in picking the perfect engagement ring for her, Aelin had hated that she hadn’t been able to wear it and to show it off. The only public admittance of their relationship was this photo and because it only showed Aelin’s hand she had remained anonymous. There was just the widespread devastation that Rowan Whitethorn was officially off the market, the media sent into a tizzy because no one knew who his mystery woman was. It cost them both an exorbitant amount in NDAs but somehow they had managed to keep it all out of the public eye.

“My favourite comment is this one: WTF But you and Aelin! I shipped the two of you so hard. You’ve broken my heart,” Aelin read. “How could you break their heart like that, Rowan? Have you no compassion?”

“I don’t know how people can see the way we interact and imagine us together,” Rowan said.

“Shipping is the word you’re looking for,” Aelin explained. “You may be too old to be down with the lingo, unfortunately.”

Rowan scoffed, selling his arrogance. “I could say the same about you, I doubt kids today know what the word lingo means.”

“At least I’m not as old as you,” Aelin threw in a little bite to her words to make her anger believable. “I have that going for me amongst all my other admirable and desirable qualities.”

“If you say so.” She saw Rowan fighting his smile but he kept his composure in the end. “You just like anything that draws attention to you. Never mind how ridiculous and unfounded that attention might be.”

“I see falling in love hasn’t done any favours to you manners,” Aelin teased.

“Maybe it’s just you, Aelin. You seem to make it your mission to make me as nasty as I can be." Rowan sounded both impatient and offended, a practised tone for him.

“What can I say, I love to ruffle your feathers. And It’s not my fault they’re so easily ruffled,” Aelin countered. “But I should at least offer my congratulations. An engagement is one thing but I’m more interested in what comes after.”

A video played on the large screen behind the two of them, the song Rowan had just sung playing again in lower quality with just him and his guitar. Aelin watched the grainy video footage, seeing him dressed in dark pants with the buttons of is white shirt rolled to his elbows, the rest of his features were blurred by the terrible quality of the camera work. His stand out feature was his voice as he sang to an unknown figure. The heads of the guests obscured the view of who that was, the only thing that was seen of her was her hands dancing above her head for a few moments. Fenrys had done a wonderful job purposefully terrible camera work.

There were some murmurs from the audience as they put together the other pieces of information the video showed them. It was more than clear what this delightful snippet was from, but Aelin began the dance anyway.

“That looks like you’re at a wedding,” she said.

“My own, in fact,” Rowan confirmed. There were a few cheers at that, the news wasn’t new. It had been hard won but they had managed to fully control what information had gone out about the special event. “You should know, you were there.”

This time there were a few surprised gasps and muttering of what. The animosity between Aelin and Rowan was notorious, and although some tabloids tried to put a flirtatious spin on it it never seemed to stick. Their feuding held more entertainment and money.

“I wasn’t invited directly, I came as a plus one for a very important guest.” Aelin lent back in her chair, consciously keeping her hands on the arms of it. “It was a magical affair and a wonderful night. I must say though, I think you could have done better. You’re worth millions after all.”

Rowan’s eyebrows rose with indignant surprise. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well, the venue for starters,” Aelin said. “It felt like a prison inside, all those high walls and artificial lighting. Why were we punished for your success?”

“I’m a private man, as you well know. There’s certain things I can’t compromise on to maintain it.”

“And the colour scheme,” she made a disgusted sound. “So basic. Green and gold? Sounds like the colour scheme for a sports team.”

There was a chuckle from Rowan at that. “I didn’t know you paid attention to such things.”

“You’d be surprised at what I pay attention to,” Aelin said with a flirtatious wink. “That dress. Stunning. Couldn’t have chosen a more stunning piece of art.”

“At least you have one positive thing to say,” even though he sounded completely unimpressed. “She was stunning as ever, even though wedding planning did make her kind of a diva.”

Aelin lent a hand on her chin, a smile quirking up the side of her mouth even though she wanted to insist the contrary. “Pity about that, though I’d say your temperaments match. Or more likely she realised it was your sorry ass that she was marrying and didn’t want you to face the embarrassment of being left at the altar. I think you should thank her for that kindness.”

“Anything else that didn’t meet your expectations, your Highness?” Rowan made sure to add an edge of mocking to his voice, but Aelin could see the mirth dancing in his eyes.

Aelin tapped her chin, sending a conspiring look to the audience as they sat on the edge of their seats waiting for her next biting quip. “The wine, I would have chosen better.” That held some truth, because Aelin hadn't exactly participated in the trying before buying.

“You didn’t even drink any,” Rowan said, almost ruining everything by laughing. They would need to wrap this up quickly before he gave them away completely. This man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

“That,” she drew the word out as a warning, “was because I heard it was so terrible I didn’t even bother with it. Now let’s get back to your lovely little song.”

“If you’d like,” Rowan added callously.

In return Aelin sent him a wry smile. “I understand it was for your wife. A serenade for her on your wedding day.”

Rowan just nodded. There was a call of but who is she from the audience. Host and guest both pointedly ignored it.

“The lyrics are beautiful, and obviously come from the heart. She must be a very lucky woman to have your devotion.” Then Aelin turned towards the audience. “Who knew Rowan Whitethorn could be such a softy, even his vows had me in tears.”

There was no word of a lie there. As Rowan had declared his love to her, and promised to honour and care for them as long as he lived, Aelin couldn’t keep back the tears. Her father had to pass her his pocket square so she could dab the tears away without ruining her makeup.

“Over all, it was quite the party,” Aelin said.

Rowan snuck her a secret smile. “It was.”

“I’d say the party really started once the bride and groom left,” Aelin mused.

“Did it just?” Rowan said in that dry way of his.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, trying not to remember too vividly how they had gone back to their room and really celebrated lest she blush on camera. “Your presence has that kind of impact.”

Rowan had to look down to hide most of his smile as he shook his head at her antics. It really was time to wrap it up before he lost all restraint and just blurted everything out because Aelin teased too hard and he bit too quickly.

“Where is your shiny new wedding ring anyway? It just about blinded me at the reception,” Aelin said.

This was the predetermined phrase that would uncover them at last. For nearly two years Aelin and Rowan had managed to keep their relationship private and out of the public eye. They were about to undo all their hard work, but it was about time and most definitely worth it. Bringing their relationship to light would save them from all the speculation and rumours that continuously surrounded them. Not completely, there would always be gossip of cheating and the like, but it would be nice not to hide anymore.

Rowan shifted so that he could reach into his back pocket and then showed off his ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “I took it off to play, didn’t want it getting in the way.”

Even though they had no idea what they were anticipating, the audience seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Rowan slipped his ring onto his finger then looked right at Aelin.

“I’ve got yours, too,” Rowan said, this time reaching into the pocket over his heart. There was tittering from the audience, Aelin struggled to keep her face neutral. “I found them on the bathroom counter, I thought you might want them.”

The was a singular, very high pitched WHAT from someone in the audience. Rowan held out his hand to her, palm up with the emerald on full display.

Biting her bottom lip to stop her grin was futile and Aelin only had eyes for Rowan as she said, “Thank you, but I’d left them there on purpose.”

Rowan was grinning too, his eyes darting down to her stomach. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t get them on,” Aelin said casually, risking a glance at her audience who looked like they were ready to explode. “My fingers were too swollen. Tends to happen when you’re pregnant.”

Absolutely pandemonium broke out. Aelin stood, watching as the audience collectively lost their mind and smoothed her hands over her dress, showing off the small bump she had hidden beneath. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping, there were whistles and a few screams. She smiled, caressing her bump affectionately again. It had been difficult but they had managed to keep the pregnancy out of public knowledge. A few of the tabloids had run stories about her looking pregnant but when nothing came of it, they just gave up. Aelin had faced pregnancy allegations every other week for years, this time it wasn’t a lie. She was just too good at keeping secrets. A baby had been a surprise, to say the least, but not at all an unwelcome one. The wardrobe department had a hard time dressing her lately in an attempt to hide the pregnancy and to keep her comfortable. Even more NDAs were handed out over it.

And then Rowan stood too, off script. He swept an arm around her waist and she went willingly into his embrace. Rowan tucked her hair behind her ear and gave her a sweet smile, the kind that was just for her, his eye crinkling in the corner. When he kissed her Aelin let him, returning it fervently. It was probably too amorous for day time television but Aelin couldn’t find it in herself to care—not when Rowan whispered I love you and looked at her like that.

Once the chaos died down Rowan had been sent off and Aelin had to focus on her real job, Getting through the rest of the show had been a feat. As soon as Rowan had left the stage Aelin pretended like nothing had happened. The next segment had been promoting various popular books, followed by video chatting a school telling them her studio was providing them with iPads. All in all, it was a fantastic show, but now that it was over she was free to return to her dressing room.

Rowan was waiting for her, arm draped over the back of the couch and looking far too good. Aelin tried not to slam the door but her excitement got the better of her. Kicking off her heels she wasted no more time before climbing into Rowan’s lap, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him. His hands went to her waist, his thumbs brushing over her sides.

When they finally broke apart Rowan said, “You could have let up a little.”

“I’m still mad about it being a shotgun wedding,” Aelin pulled back and narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know if it was the hormones or purely the lyrics but I had to blink back the tears.”

“How is that my fault? You’ve heard that song a hundred times.” Rowan was giving her a look that only insisted that part was not his fault.

Aelin ignored it completely. “And you almost gave it away so many times, like when you told the world I wasn’t drinking.”

Rowan's deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and he urged her closer. “We were heading in a wedding direction anyway. We just needed a little bit of a push. You can’t blame me for getting a little excited over telling everyone.”

His hand rested over her stomach, right over the tiny thing that had given them much more than a little push. Finding out that they were pregnant had accelerated all the plans they had for their future. They didn’t see the point in waiting to get engaged or prolonging the time between that and a wedding. They had chosen each other, and like their vows had said, they were in this together until whatever end. Still, the joke of the shotgun wedding was too funny to let go of, and there had also been the fact she hadn’t been able to wear her engagement ring outside the house. It was beautiful and deserved to be shown off.

The feeling of Rowan’s lips making their way up her neck drew her back to the present. “I worked it out.”

“Worked what out?” Rowan asked but wasn’t deterred by her shift in topic and kissed her jaw.

“That we most likely conceived on this very couch,” Aelin explained. “You were busy with your tour and I checked the dates and you were only in town for those few days.”

Rowan stopped kissing her to laugh. “Is this a lucky couch then?”

“Hmm, I dunno,” Aelin said, her hand slipping into his hair tugging it just the way he liked. “I certainly like to get lucky on it.”

Rowan groaned, leaning in so that scrape his teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Did you lock the door?”

The words were whispered onto her skin and made Aelin shiver. All resolve lost, she melted against Rowan, sighing as his hands wandered over her body. Gods, she needed him, her blood still thrumming from all the excitement of the interview. And she could feel how much Rowan needed her, a teasing roll of her hips only intensifying the situation.

“There’s no need,” Aelin said and Rowan pulled back enough to see his face. “To quote our dear friend Fenrys, after all that foreplay no one would even risk disturbing us right now.”

Rowan’s grin was near feral. “No more wasted time then.”

They both moved, meeting in the middle for a kiss that set every fire within them blazing. The couch it seemed, would prove to be more than useful yet again. And like Aelin had said, lessons had been learned and no one interrupted them… this time.

~~~~~

Hope you like that one! I know I certainly did

#rowelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #dressing room drama

87 notes · View notes

galactiquest · 9 months

Text

Unexpected Waltz

Fandom: Trigun Pairing: Millions Knives x Reader Other Characters: None Notes: So ummm... Hi!!! I’ve been quiet on this blog for a while because I’ve been hemming and hawing about whether I want to keep participating in this community with others (I haven’t had a whole lot of good experiences tbh) but... I decided to whip up a little Knives x Reader for old time’s sake. Please enjoy! Also, this song inspired the title and general feel. Word count: 921

Warnings: None, just some dancing and a semi-established relationship. And maybe very slightly out of character Knives but this is my house and I get to decide how Knives talks.

[Also crossposted to AO3!]

“I see no point to the task of dancing.”

Millions Knives, the Plant who was forever unconvinced that there was any substance to be taken from extraneous activities and pastimes of humans. And you, the human who loved him and desperately wanted him to do something nice with you.

You knew there’d be a rift between your worlds the moment you met him, regardless of whether that led to a relationship or not. Knives was just so convinced that he was different that he couldn’t fathom partaking in any sort of human activity.

Which, at first, you didn’t really mind–you wouldn’t push him, and he wouldn’t push you. Most of the time.But today, you really wanted to dance with him. Everything felt right, but he stayed stiff as a board on the other side of the room, arms crossed as crackly music came from the record player.

“Come on,” you huffed, mirroring his pout. “Just one little dance won’t kill you, you know.”

“Waste of energy,” Knives added. “Waste of time. All of it, a waste.”

“You said the same thing about kissing and hugging and cuddling at night.”

“And I’m still right,” he snided. “But it’s beneficial to you. That kind of contact releases oxycontin, a critical chemical for your wellbeing.”

“And you don’t feel even a little nice when we do it?”

Knives closed his eyes and refused to answer.

“Well. Dancing feels good, for one. It’s nice to move your body in a rhythmic fashion.” You spun around a little. “Humans have developed a multitude of dancing styles, both for music and without music. Some dances are sacred and used to tell stories, while others are just for fun.”

“...So it’s important.” He was looking away, but had a slight quirk to his lip that could imply a smile–the I’m-not-interested-but-since-it’s-with-you-and-I-like-you smile.

“To me, at least.” You held out a hand. “Will you at least try it? Just once?”

Something he’d heard a lot. When you urged him to take a bite of your cooking, or to draw on some scrap paper, or read a book that wasn’t another tome full of boring nonsense. And every time, he’d groan and lament about how you were expecting too much out of his greatness, how he shouldn’t bother with these things–but he’d still do them, so who was the real winner?

Both of you, actually. He just refused to admit that he’d both lost and won.

After a moment of hesitation, he approached, putting his hand in yours. Ever so gently.

That was the one far cry of the Knives that stayed in your house and laid in your bed from the one that used to be in the elements of the desert–he was gentle in most everything he did, despite his cruelty before, despite the harshness in his words. Maybe he knew that you were human and mortal, and you could only handle a mere fraction of his power before snapping. Maybe he really didn’t want you to break, because he finally found someone who could hear him.

Maybe he didn’t want to be alone.

You placed his hand on your shoulder, reaching the matching one on your side to his hip (his shoulder was far too high to hold comfortably) and interlacing fingers on the other side.

“I’ll lead us, okay?” You were alright with dancing–not an expert, but not completely clueless, either. A simple step would be fine.

“...Alright.” Knives usually hated relinquishing control, but he had extremely barebones dancing skills, if any at all, and didn’t want to step on your toes. Literally or figuratively.

Slowly, you moved your feet to the beat of the music, letting Knives follow in your footsteps. He was able to pick up the rhythm easily, though he was primarily just copying what you were doing. You took him around the room, spinning gently, watching his unmoving expression as he stared at you. There was a slight gleam in his eye–the gleam of I-like-you-but-I’m-trying-not-to-show-it.

As the music continued, you pulled away from him slightly, twirling yourself around his arm. He seemed a bit confused, but your smile was enough for him to allow this to happen. There was a certain warmth in his chest that came from his hand on your shoulder, your hand on his waist, and the other hands intertwined to the side. It felt nice, as much as he loathed to admit it. Knives almost wanted the music to last forever, but it was coming to an end.

“I’m gonna dip you!” You said, bracing your hand behind his waist.

Knives sort of knew this move. He wanted to make some kind of remark, one along the lines of you won’t be able to hold me up, but his body reacted before he made up his mind. He fell backwards, letting you keep him close with one arm. You still strained against his weight–how can one man be so dense, you wondered–but were able to hold the move for a few seconds until the needle bumped itself off the record, music stopping.

Knives stood up, partially taking you with him as you slid off of him.

“Well? What did you think?” You asked, grinning up at him.

Knives huffed out of his nose, then replied. “It… Wasn’t that bad. But don’t expect me to do it again.”

The tiniest smile formed on his face as he turned away. I want to do it again so badly! Please dance with me again!

You knew him too well by now.

#galactifics #trigun x reader #reader insert #trigun imagines #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #those tags should be sufficient. now EAT #text #oh and feel free to send me an ask if you want...? maybe...? i'd love to try interacting with the community more i don't bite i prommy

102 notes · View notes

unshackled-if · 8 months

Note

I feel shy asking this but how would the RO's react when mc is like very close to the RO's face and like there's like a tension as the RO's maybe expecting a kiss but the mc kiss them in the forehead and mc smile cheeky "Mhmm? We're you expecting a kiss?" Mc is like teasing them(It's alright if you don't wanna answer this :3 )

this ask made me giggle and kick my feet in cuteness. 🥺💗💗

Aurelian:

Aurelian's face brightened with a gentle smile as he leaned in towards MC, never breaking eye contact. There was an undeniable connection between them, a spark that seemed to fill the air.

Drawing closer, their noses almost touching, Aurelian's smile widened as he closed his eyes, anticipating what would happen next. The anticipation hung in the air, thick with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

But what came next was something different, something unexpected. Instead of a lingering kiss on the lips, MC planted a soft, delicate kiss on Aurelian's forehead.

His eyes fluttered open in surprise, a mix of confusion and delight crossing his features. The touch was tender and affectionate, but not what he had anticipated.

"Wait, were you expecting something else?" teased MC, mischief twinkling in their eyes. Aurelian felt his heart skip a beat, caught off guard by the playful twist.

Blushing, he looked away, a hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth, his ears turning a deeper shade of red with each passing second. The unexpected gesture had left him momentarily speechless, his mind racing to find a response.

"You and your tricks..." Aurelian finally managed to utter, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and fondness. The room filled with the sweet sound of MC's laughter, their joy infectious.

Aurelian couldn't help but join in, his embarrassment fading into a warm, lighthearted moment between them.

Elara:

Elara had been eagerly waiting for this moment. She had meticulously planned a date with MC, taking them to her cherished spot in the forest by the river. The setting was perfect, with sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the surroundings. Every detail had been carefully noted to ensure perfection, from the picnic blanket adorned with wildflowers to the basket filled with their favorite treats.

As MC leaned their head on Elara's shoulder, her heart fluttered with excitement. The gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying a sense of serenity and anticipation.

Suddenly, she heard MC's voice calling her name, and she turned to see their face drawing nearer, adorned with a beaming smile. A wave of warmth enveloped her as she instinctively moved closer, her lips parting ever so slightly, ready for a tender kiss.

However, instead of their lips meeting hers, she felt a feather-light brush of their lips against her forehead. Surprise washed over her, and she couldn't help but hold her forehead, her mouth agape.

"What? Were you expecting something else, silly?" MC playfully tilted their head, their smile radiating affection.

Elara blinked, processing the unexpected gesture, her mind caught between the initial anticipation and the sweetness of the moment. She couldn't help but chuckle, a soft, joyous sound escaping her lips.

"Yes... but it was the sweetest surprise," Elara finally responded, her own smile brimming with warmth and happiness.

Kazuo:

Kazuo perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. As he turned around, still in the midst of polishing his sword, his eyes lit up with delight. It was MC, and they had come to find him.

The weariness etched to their face didn’t go unnoticed by Kazuo. Setting aside his sword, he noticed MC rubbing their neck while letting out a weary sigh. It was clear they had just completed a difficult mission.

Filled with concern, Kazuo patted the chair in front of him, silently inviting MC to take a seat and rest their body.

"Here, this will help," he said, rising from his own seat and beginning to knead MC's back with skilled hands. As MC winced in pain, they called out to Kazuo, beckoning him to come closer.

Kazuo leaned in, expecting a sweet kiss. To his surprise, MC planted a gentle peck on his forehead, their lips barely grazing his skin. The unexpected gesture caught him off guard, and he blinked in astonishment.

"Haha! You were expecting something else—Ouch!" MC playfully teased, their voice turning into a yelp of surprise as Kazuo tightened his grip on their shoulder.

"Stay still..." Kazuo closed his eyes, continuing the massage, his face showing a subtle blush. MC rolled their eyes in adoration.

Aiden/Ava:

"You better run, or I'm going to gobble you up!" A exclaimed, their hands raised like a playful monster, sprinting towards one of the nearby children who burst into laughter. A began tickling the child, accompanied by silly eating noises as if they had devoured their small friend.

Amidst the cheerful chaos, A heard a familiar chuckle behind them. They paused, turning around swiftly, their face lighting up with joy. MC stood there, a sight that never failed to elicit a beaming smile from A. The distance between them seemed to shrink as MC crouched down, meeting A's gaze.

As MC leaned closer, their lips gently brushed against A's forehead, surprising them with a tender kiss. "You were expecting something else, weren't you?" MC playfully teased, a mischievous grin adorning their face.

However, MC's playful moment abruptly shifted to astonishment as A enveloped them in a warm bear hug, holding them tightly. "I love you! I love you! I love you so much!" A exclaimed, peppering MC's face with affectionate kisses. MC blushed, their face glowing with warmth, not anticipating this burst of adoration.

"Okay! Okay! Stoppp—" MC managed to utter amidst laughter.

SC:

MC had a plan, determined to finally catch SC off guard after all this time of being the one teased and tricked. Nodding to themselves, MC called out for SC, repeating their name several times, but there was no sign of them.

Concern began to creep into MC's mind as they searched every nook and cranny, their anxiety growing. Suddenly, a voice sent a shiver down their spine. "Boo..." SC seductively whispered in MC's ear.

Startled, MC swiftly turned around, their eyebrows furrowing. Standing just inches away was SC, their laughter filling the air as they held their stomach, wiping tears of amusement from their eyes.

"Oh, sweet MC, I'll never tire of teasing you." Frustration welled up within MC, and without hesitation, they grabbed SC, pulling them closer with force.

SC's eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly regained their composure. "A kiss? Hmm..." SC slyly smiled, expecting something more.

However, to their surprise, MC countered with a swift kiss on the forehead. "You were expecting something else? Who's laughing now?" MC smirked, a sense of pride evident in their achievement.

SC chuckled, shaking their head in amusement. “ My dear MC, we’re just getting started. Let the game truly begin.”

Their response left MC slightly sweating in regret.

#asks #anon #thank you anon!#ro: aurelian #ro: aiden/ava #ro: kazuo #ro:elara #ro: sc #mc

56 notes · View notes

aussiepineapple1st · 1 year

Text

What is Happening to me (Part 6)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,648 Contains: Fluff, Comfort, Slight Angst, Domestic Leon, Good Boyfriend.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

Once again the morning light was streaming through the window of the loft. Those blasted white curtains making the sun feel like it was 10 times brighter than what it should be. You squint as your eyes open, feeling a twinge of pain as you tried moving your body. Remembering the little mishap that happened in the middle of the night when Leon had arrived home. Speaking of... There he was. Still fast asleep beside you. Not an unusual sight as sometimes he would have fallen asleep when you were in the hospital, you waking up to his sleeping form on the lounge. But this time was different, this was the first time you were waking up first when he was so close. You could still smell the soaps he used last night when he showered. His hair messy and long bangs covering one eye, falling over the bridge of his nose to tickle the opposite cheek bone. Examining every single rogue freckle, wrinkle and hair on his face as he sleeps peacefully.

You notice some grey coming through in his beard and make a note to tease him about it later, but right now you wanted to let him sleep. Oh! Maybe you can make him some breakfast for when he wakes up? Very slowly, you sit up, gritting your teeth at the new pain shooting through your abdomen. You mentally make a note: Call Leon's name from a distance when he arrives home.

Making your way out of bed, you once again use your memory skills to make it down the stairs and to the kitchen in complete silence. Finding some eggs and bacon in the fridge from when Claire was staying over, you start to cook that up. Needing to lean on the bench every so often to give your aching stomach muscles a break, you eventually made the breakfast. Giving his plate three pieces of buttered toast rather than your one. You never really liked to eat breakfast, but seeing as you were cooking some for Leon, why not have a little bit yourself? Once everything was on the plates you lean on the island bench, separating the lounge from the kitchen. Head in your hands as you feel horrible, physically in constant pain. You wished this wound would just heal, but to be honest you didn't know the extent of the wound and how you even got it? Was it from one of the monsters in your dreams? Or was it from a normal accident?

Now the thought that came to your head was, should you wake Leon to eat? Damn it, you should have just waited until he woke up. "Should probably let him sleep, (Y/N)." You say to yourself aloud. "Let who sleep? Not with food smelling that good he doesn't." Leon's voice says from the rails of the loft, looking down to you as he wiped one of his eyes and yawned.

"Leon? I'm sorry I should have waited for you to sleep longer.." You apologise, holding your left side looking up to him. He shoos your apology away into the wind as he turns and starts to make his way to the stairs. His footing was much lighter than normal. He was almost silent as he walked, it was probably just habit from just coming back from a job? Once he makes it to the kitchen he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for making breakfast, are you sure you're alright? From last night I mean." He asked taking cutlery from the top draw in the island bench for both of you. "Maybe you should stay in bed with me for the day?" Leon suggests as he places a hand on your hip, helping guide you to the lounge once you had your plate in your hands. "I might just take you up on that offer." You smile as you walk to the lounge, gingerly sitting down. Leon held your plate until you got comfortable, then hands it back to you. He takes a seat beside you beginning to dig into his food you had prepared. The eggs were cooked perfectly, the yolk running onto the toast and bacon. The bacon halfway between crispy and flimsy, he had no clue how you could do it perfectly every time. You got to watch him melt into the food you had cooked him this time. "Glad I can still remember how to cook? I surprised myself as well, so you're not the only one." You smile to yourself as you start to eat your own breakfast.

After you had finished you wait until Leon was also done before placing a hand on his arm, a specific look in your eyes told him you were going to ask something important. Placing his and your plates on the coffee table he gives a sigh. "You want to know about my job, right?" He asked looking you in the eyes. You give a nod, slightly used to him being able to read your expressions like a book, knowing exactly what you were thinking... 80% of the time. Giving another sigh he rubs his hands through his hair, itching his scalp in a way that someone does when they are either frustrated, or reeeaally not wanting to do something. "Fine.." He convinced himself, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you. One leg still hanging off the seat, the other tucked in front of him. "You see, or job is... sporadic. We don't know when we will be called out and how long for." He begins. "The President has placed you and myself together as partners because we work better as a team than separately. However, both of us are still very capable of taking on jobs solo. You and I are the best Agents in the DSO, which also means we get called out onto more jobs."

"I see, but when you say 'job', what do you mean by that?" You asked pulling the blanket over your legs and torso, feeling the coolness of the morning air start to grip your skin.

"We deal with outbreaks. Outbreaks of any Virus, Parasyte or BOW, which stands for Bio Organic Weapon. One of them you described the other night when you woke up from a nightmare." Leon explained, his hands were fiddling with each other. You could tell he was becoming uneasy talking about all of this, but he wanted you to know what you both did. He knew the risks and blackmail the government had over you, forcing you to become an agent like they had with him. He would stop this life if he could, but at this stage, he was in too deep. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to, with the amount of enemies he has made over the years they would just end up finding him anyway.

"You explained the types last night, what did you have to deal with this time?" You asked wondering if he was alright, the thought of seeing those monsters in real life made you feel uneasy.

"I was dealing with some Infected, or also called zombies. They become infected with the T-Virus, or Tyrant Virus. Some rare cases people are resilient to this virus. but majority of the world's population is susceptible." He explains. "There was and outbreak and I was tasked with finding the cause, as well as to exterminate and of the infected."

"Exterminate? You were forced to kill people?" You asked, eyes widening.

"Not people. Undead. They were no longer alive. The way we put it, we were putting them to rest." He corrects you. His hands now coming across his chest as he looked down to the space of lounge between the two of you. You could tell he was closing himself off, he clearly didn't want to talk about this anymore. You couldn't reach to him, so you extend your leg and place the ball of your foot to his knee on the lounge.

"Thank you... for explaining it to me. I will have to get better so your partner can join you back on the field." You smiled softly. He gives you a half hearted smile back and crawls on his hands and knees to lay beside you. You share the blanket with him, laying it over his shoulders and body as he looks up to you. He was still very tired, his eyes telling you he was.

"That would be nice. But you need to stop getting yourself into such predicaments." He explained, motioning to your side.

"I don't even know how I got this, so that means nothing to me." You smirk, sliding down to be laying rather than sitting.

Wrapping his arm over your chest and holding you close he pressed his nose and mouth to the side of your head, taking in your calming scent. He was glad to be home right now. He needed it after what he had just been through. "Your nightmare you explained to me. That's what happened."

"I was being chased by one of those things?" You asked quietly as he could feel his body relaxing beside you. He only nods in response this time as he was starting to fall asleep.

"We were out for dinner. We were in the right place at the right time. Someone tried to cause an outbreak but we were there to stop it, the BOW was a plan B if A failed, which it did." He explained, his voice becoming softer and softer. "You led it away from the people we were saving and it jumped with you out the second story window. You... Hit your head 'n.... woke up not remembering...." Aaaand presto, he was out.

You think about what he had just said, everything. The types of things you deal with, to what he had just been through over the last few days, and to how you got your injury, and lost your memory. A second story window? How were you even alive? Well that didn't matter, because you were still here, with Leon. Who clearly loved you dearly and you were falling in love with him once again. You had noticed though, he had been very respectful to you. He would always look to your lips when going to kiss you, but would always press his kisses on your cheek or your forehead. You were sure he would probably always kiss you on the lips, but because of your memory loss he was being more decent about how he acted around you. Your face goes bright red, you hadn't even thought of it until now. If he was your partner then you probably.. You cover your face even thinking about it. "Have we done the sex?" You whisper under your breath. Realising you just said that out loud you tilt your head to look up at Leon, who still had his nose and mouth pressed against your head. Good... He was still asleep.

Trying to think of other things you decide the next time he goes to kiss you, you're going to sabotage it and kiss his lips. Nodding slightly to yourself you close your eyes, soon feeling the pull of sleep. Damn it.... You forgot to tease him about the grey in his beard. Oh well. Eventually you relax enough and fall fast asleep.

-----*A Few Hours Later*-----

You feel your body warmth starting to become your own, rather than the shared temperature you and Leon had comfortably together. Eyes opening, you look around and see no other human in sight. Pulling yourself to a sitting position using the back of the lounge, you look around even more. Was he in the toilet? No, you looked over to the door and could see the door wide open, the light off and the toilet empty. Standing up you walk around the house, not wanting to call out incase he was asleep upstairs. But why would he leave you on the lounge asleep and go up to bed? That doesn't make sense (Y/N), you scold yourself as you scowl.

"Leon?" You decide to call out anyway. Silence. Placing your hands on your hips you huff trying to think where he could have gone. A piece of paper then catches your attention, walking over to the island bench you pick it up. "Just gone down the street to do some shopping, there was no food in the fridge. Be back soon. XXX"

You smile at the note, wondering when he had left? Looking around the house once again, you feel yourself drawn to a specific picture hanging on the wall. You hadn't even noticed there were pictures hanging, odd how it just felt so normal they were invisible to you. You examine the photos framed, smiling at them. Most were of you posing in front of some sunset, or beautiful place. Others were the both of you, the camera being held in your own hand as Leon would be behind you in some way with a small smile on his face. Staring at one of these pictures, you were both much younger, maybe early 20's? Leon's hair was a lighter blonde and shorter, wearing a blue police uniform. His left sleeve removed and replaced with bloodied bandages, you both looked completely exhausted and covered in dirt and grime. Only small, barely visible smiles were on your faces, but it looked more like relief than happiness.

A massive pain shoots through your head all of a sudden, your eyes fluttering as you feel dizzy. Flashes of buildings, rain, fire was all around you, people moving in unnatural ways as they swayed when they walked. Mutilated faces pop into your vision and the pain hits you again, like a ton of bricks had just been dropped on your head. Screams and moans come flooding into your mind's ears and suddenly, darkness.

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

"I'm home. Hope you didn't throw a party while I w-" Leon was cut off by the sight of you sprawled out on the floor. He puts the shopping down and hurries to stand at your side. "(Y/N)! Hey?!" He called your name looking you over before kneeling down. He couldn't see any sign of injury, no blood or bruising. He checks you were still breathing by placing his hand in front of your nose, feeling you inhale. His eyes scan over your features, brushing your hair from your face as he gently cups your face in both hands. "Please.. Wake up." He said gently giving your cheek a light tap. His eyes watch you intently and notices as yours start to flutter open. Leon sits back on his feet exhaling as he realised he was holding his breath. His shoulders lowering as he closed his eyes in relief. "Are your hurt?" He asks gently placing a hand on the side of your neck. You feel the warmth of his hand on your cold skin. "No.." You shake your head lightly as a hand reaches up to press a thumb against your temple, still feeling the residual pain.

Leon scoops you up in his arms and walks over to the lounge, sitting on there with you cradled on his lap. "What happened?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"I.. Was looking at the pictures on the wall over there for the first time." You say looking over to the wall he had found you next to. "When I looked at that one, I had all these visions pop up, I heard screaming and moaning in my head. Then got this weird headache and passed out." You explained feeling your head aching and lean under his chin. He was warm, and you had been on the cold ground for a little while before he found you. You were freezing cold.

"It's okay, I've got you."

Part 1 | Previous | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit

#angst #comfort #domestic leon #fanfic #fic #fluff #good boyfriend #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x f!reader #leon x fem!reader #leon x female reader #leon x reader #resident evil #slight angst #what is happening to me #wihtm

115 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 1 year

Text

Playing Favourites Princess?

Glorfindel x reader | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Request: One more thirstpost, if you’ll allow. Glorfindel x Reader x Ecthelion threesome. I bet they’d be very overwhelming. The soft dom experience.™️ - Anon

A/N: I decided to split the request into three parts since I had a whole grand ass idea for it so you're getting more smut that ever :)

Warnings: fembod, dom-sub dynamics, teasing, pet names (reader being called kitten), student-teacher dynamics, cunnilingus, fingering, semi-public grinding

Word: 2.8k

Synopsis: Being your teachers' favourite always has its benefit, especially when they were fighting for your attention.

Today was the day you were going to profess your attraction to your teachers. You’ve been studying under both Lord Glorfindel and Lord Ecthelion for months, learning how to fight and there wasn’t a moment that passed that made you believe that there was something more. From the gentle touches of their hands as they guide your movements with your sword or the way their hands would rest on your waist when correcting your position.

You could still feel their touch on your skin hours after they were finished instructing their soldiers. You were one of many they were instructed to train, and yet, you stuck out the most. They always gave you more of their attention and time; making you stay back extra hours to correct your form and strengthen your skills. You knew that both of them were doing something to you, but you still weren’t sure until the most recent training session two days ago.

Standing behind you with firm yet gentle hands on your hips, Glorfindel ordered you to remain after training privately, so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed before the entire gathering. Hands running along your body leaving a trail of goosebumps, you shivered under his touch. Noticing this, he didn’t hesitate to bring his body closer to you until he was standing just behind you.

You were able to feel the heat radiating off his God-like body and his slight bulge rubbing against your ass. Knowing that you were able to feel him, he still didn’t make any drastic moves to scare you just yet. Dragging his hands up your sides and shifting your hands until they were positioned before you, he kicked his foot out to widen your stance. It was then, you felt more of his bulge pressing into your ass.

Gasping at the feeling, you reduced your ragged breathing so he wouldn’t realize the effects he had on you. Unfortunately, Glorfindel was able to read your body like the back of his hands and knew you were trembling like a leaf. Lowering his head, he buried his face into your hair and inhaled your scent, releasing a soft moan. He wanted you to know that he was turned on.

“My Lord Glorfindel, a-are you a-alright?”

“I am. More than I’m supposed to be,” dipping his head lower so his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, you felt him place a kiss on the tip and then dragged his mouth to kiss behind your ear.

Closing your eyes and leaning your head to the side, you gave your Lord access to ravish your neck. Wasting no time, Glorfindel lips came down to kiss up and down your neck, tenderly. Giving you butterfly kisses as he went before stopping at the juncture of your neck. At this time, he winded his hands around your waist and pressed you into his chest. Groaning at the contact of your ass against his erection, he slowly ground his hips into your ass to gain some friction.

“Shit.”

Bringing his lips back to your neck, he sank his teeth into your skin, biting you nearly hard enough to draw blood. Swiping his tongue over the spot as you shrieked from the pain, he listened to your whimpers turn into mewls. Bringing your hands up behind you to run through his hair, Glorfindel moaned as he felt your fingers scrape his scalp.

“Your skin tastes divine kitten,” at the use of the pet name, you gasped. Never before would except the prestige Lord to use borderline derogatory names. But then again, you would have never expected your Lord to be engaging in such delightful activities in the open courtyard where any of his servants or friends or even the King could walk in.

Continuing to lavish your neck in kisses, he changed his technique and lowered his lips to your collarbones, pulling your shirt down your shoulder so his lips can have access. You licked your lips as he came in contact with your skin.

“Mmmh feels so good.”

“Does it?” ground his hips a little hard against yours as you praised him, a fresh flow of your juices running down to soil your underwear.

Grinding against each other like two unmannered folks, your moans began to increase as his hands shifted from your waist to cup your breast. Rubbing your nipples through the material and groping your breast, you felt your underwear becoming completely soaked. You could only hope that your pants were left unsoiled. Leaning your head back to rest against his shoulders, your new position gave him greater access to sliding your shirt off your shoulder. Somewhere between pleasure and reality, you felt the coldness of the late evening air hitting more of your skin across your chest; dangerously close to your breast. Opening your eyes to investigate, you saw from the corner of your eyes, Glorfindel’s mouth busy sucking a bunch of hickeys into your flesh.

“I could kiss you forever. Your skin tastes sweet…though I’m sure somewhere else may also be sweeter,” his lips left your flesh to whisper them upon your lips while staring deeply into your eyes. Gone were the jaded green and all that was left were forest green orbs staring into your soul.

“I would love to have a taste sometime, hmm?” lips hovering just above yours, his breath was the intoxicating scent of mint. Hands still on your breast, he was busy rubbing your nipples away, helping with the incessant pool forming in your panties. You could probably drown in your juices from the amount that you released.

Looking at you and waiting for an answer, his hips slowed their grinding to merely brush against your ass. His right hand that cupped your breast released it and trailed its way lower and lower until it danced along the waistband of your trousers. Still keeping eye contact, he raised his brows questioning whether to continue. Parting your lips to exhale, you swiped your tongue across your bottom and watched as Glorfindel inched his head closer to have a taste. Lips touching yours, yet they hadn’t collided, he paused for your much-awaited answer.

“Do I have your confirmation?” pulling on your trousers to drop the hint and the dire urge he had to taste you.

Freezing the world around you for a second to clear your mind and focus, you navigated your thoughts to comprehend his question. When you did, you bushed at the realization of where he wanted to be. A thought you never believed would exist in this reality or the next and one you weren’t going to pass on, you nodded your head.

“Verbal confirmation kitten,” voice ever so commanding and powerful, you could just drop your underwear for him.

“Yes, you can sir.”

That was all Glorfindel needed before he pulled you out of the courtyard and into one of the spare rooms nearby. Making quick work of your clothes, he pushed your trouser down your legs, almost tearing them in half in the process. So eager were his hands to yank the obtrusive material off and have his hands running across your skin. His hands were warm and calloused, and larger than yours. Running his fingers up your legs, his trailed over small cuts and scars you accumulated over time. Inching his hands nearer and nearer your heat, he paused to rest them on your hips as his lips kisses your skin.

“Rough, yet soft and delicate. A wonderful combination,” nipping at the skin on your thighs, you jumped at the tingling sensation.

“My lord, please,” flashing your best pleading eyes at him, and pouting, he had taken the bait. It was a cute sight to behold upon your face. Not wanting to tease you or himself any longer, his fingers griped your waistband and slowly dragged your underwear down your legs. Prying your legs apart, he hiked you up on the table and rested your legs on his shoulders while he remained on his knees. Kneeling between your legs and before you, this was the furthest you’d ever get to see your Lord appearing worshipful.

Groaning as his eyes flashed onto your heat and coated in your arousal, he could see the light formation of cream. His right hand came up to run his finger through your folds and you gasped at the contact and closed your eyes, biting your lips in the process.

“So fucking wet, and all for me.”

Inching his head closer until you felt his breath hovering over your heat, you peeked through one eye to watch him looking at you. Holding your breath as his lips parted and his tongue darted out to lick a bold stripe up your heat, you curled your toes. Your left hand shot out to entangle itself in his hair, scraping your nails across his scalp.

“Just as I imagined, sweeter than your skin,” and without a second thought, he widened your legs and dove right in.

Not bothering to build things up, Glorfindel when straight for the kill. Suctioning his lips on your clit, he vigorously sucked and tugged the little nub like his life depended on it and it did. All he wanted was to taste your sweet essence, for should he not, he swore he might die. Once he’s had a taste, he could never get enough.

Meanwhile, your thighs were busy crushing his skull while he was busy down below. Hands tightly gripping and tugging his hair strands, you were surprised at their durability of them. More so, you were shocked that he didn’t yelp out in pain, seems like someone had a thing for hair-pulling from all the moaning and grunting you were hearing. Music to your ears on any day.

“Ugh, Glorfindel your tongue feels so good.”

Humming in response, it took him a solid minute for his brain to register the name that escaped your sweet lips. Pulling his mouth off your clit, he replaced them with his fingers. Rubbing them against your clit, he ran them lower to meet your slit before cautiously inserting one finger. Watching your back arch as a sigh slipped past your lips, he inched the other one in slowly until both were scissoring your hole. Your walls were clenching around him like crazy and it made him wonder if you’d be able to take his cock so easily.

“Kitten, focus on me. That’s it, good girl. It seems like we have some training to do,” cocking your head to the side utterly confused by his statement, you thought that your training was over the moment he started rubbing his cock on your ass.

“Ngh—uh huh?”

“Good girl. Now, you still haven’t learned your place, so in order to teach you, I have a new strategy. Listening?”

Nodding your head as your eyes were threatening to close from the back and forth switching off his fingers on your heat. One was fingering you, while the other was rubbing your clit slowly. You were slowly losing your focus with every passing second and seeing was becoming blurry. The great urge to roll your eyes back was knocking on your door, but your teacher had something to instruct.

“Someone messed up earlier with knowing their place, so as your teacher, it’s my job to help put you in your place,” bending down to kiss your inner thighs, he chuckled as you jumped from the contact.

“Understood?” his other hand came up to rub your thighs soothingly as he spoke. Waiting for you to answer, his hands stopped rubbing to only raise it and bring it down on your leg. The slap made you choke on a sob as another came down on the same spot.

Peering up at you, your eyes were lined with tears as your lashes appeared starry, “I said, do you understand me kitten?”

“Uh huh, yes.”

Not pleased with your answer, his hands stopped their movements and pulled away from your heat completely. Whining at the loss of touch, you raised up to pull him back, only for a hand to grab yours and the other to wrap around your neck. Applying light pressure, just enough to get you to shut up, he stood tall between your legs. Lips hanging dangerously close to yours, his eyes flashed a glint of feral desire.

“Who am I kitten?”

“M-My teacher.”

“And how do you address me?”

Ah, you called him Glorfindel and not sir or my lord.

“Sir,” looking up at him, you saw how his eyes flashed to your lips, tempted to rest his upon yours to know if these lips were as sweet as the one below.

“Good, don’t forget it or else you don’t cum. This is a training session after all, and I don’t mind having to keep you here all day and night so long as you get it right.”

Gulping at his words, a fresh flow of juices gushed from your hole and spilled onto the table you sat on. You heat was exposed to the cold air and felt lonely without his touch. Wanting to beg him to touch you again, you were fearful of the rejection you may face after his little warning. So, simply not wishing to anger him into punishing you, you opted to reply simple.

“Yes sir.”

Pleased with your response, his hand trailed from your neck and down your cloth-covered chest until it cupped your heat. Chuckling darkly, Glorfindel didn’t hesitate to insert his same two fingers back into your hole and curled them to reach your sweet spot, “That’s it, that’s my kitten. Come on, let me hear you moan.”

Wiggling in his grasp, his hands were still holding onto yours so you couldn’t grip his hair like before. Whimpering your pleas, it sounded like music to his ears. Long has he wished to reduce you to nothing but a begging mess, calling out to him to relieve you, and here was his wish. The way his cock was straining in his pants as your moans reached his ear made him become more aggressive with his movements.

“Ah, sir. So good, your fingers feel so good in me.”

“That’s right, only I can make you feel like this.”

Releasing your hands, he dropped to his knees and planted his face directly in your heat. Slurping and sucking, the sounds were obscenely disgusting, but he couldn’t care, not when he had his tongue buried in your heat. He was getting the opportunity of a lifetime to dine on you. Dipping his tongue into your hole alongside his finger, he felt the way your walls contracted around his wet muscle. Wiggling to reach deeper inside as though he was attempting to reach your soul, you gripped the sides of the table until your knuckles turned white.

“Oh god, oh god—I’m so close, close.”

Pumping his fingering in and out while his tongue slipped out to plant hickeys on your clit, your eyes crossed at the euphoric pleasure. Where were you – definitely not here on Middle Earth? You were probably somewhere among the star and high above cloud nine. The expert roll of his tongue over your clit, slowly sucking with the little flicks sending you over the edge. Feeling the increasing clenching of your walls around his fingers, all Glorfindel needed to do was crook them upwards to brush against your sweet spot one last time and you came. Tumbling over and over again, your dams had burst and everywhere had flooded. Dwelling in pure ecstasy, you slumped your back against the walls and closed your eyes in utter bliss.

“Such a good little pet for me kitten,” his lifted his clean hand to stroke your hair and face, while his hand that was buried in you was brough to his mouth to be cleaned. Watching him through hazy eyes, you swallowed as he sucked on his two fingers clean and moaned.

“Can’t wait to taste you again. Now let’s get you dressed, shall we.”

Walking out of Lord Glorfindel’s estate, he strolled all the way past his gate and into the square, claiming that he wanted to ensure you made it out safely, not before bending to plant a fat kiss on your lips. Pulling away, you watched him smirk as he pushed you with gentle hands for you to make the short return home. It wasn’t until you walked past the grand fountain in the square to enter the lower division of the upper ring, you heard the clearing of a throat to your left and saw Lord Ecthelion watching you from his balcony with sharp eyes.

He saw the interaction between you and Glorfindel.

With a straight face, he lifted his hand and crooked his index finger to beckon you over into his estate.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @starborne066 @singleteapot @hoshinokurasa

102 notes · View notes

warriorpax · 8 months

Note

This has nothing to do with roleplay, but I’ve been eyeing YuGiOh for a while (I mostly play Magic the Gathering atm) and I’m wondering if you can recommend a deck archetype that’s easy to start out with. Ancient Gears had my eye right now because it’s exactly my aesthetic but I’m unsure how difficult it is to pilot.

Alright, SO-

First of all, I'm honestly honored that someone came to me for advice on beginner-friendly decks in Yu-Gi-Oh, so thank you for that.

Secondly, word of warning...I'm a fucking ape when it comes to this lmao, so if I give you bad advice here, I do genuinely apologize for that, PLEASE don't storm my house with torches and pitchforks? Thanks! lol

NOW, as for actual deck suggestions... these are going to be from my personal experience of using these, or my personal experience of playing AGAINST these (mainly in "Yu-Gi-Oh! Master Duel"). These will be put under the cut for those that wish to just keep scrolling and don't want to read through a wall of text of my dumbass blabbering on lmao.

One of the first ones that really come to my mind are the "Branded" series of cards, which tends to end up being one of the sort of go-to engines for a number of decks (One of the most common of which being Branded Despia). These can be identified by using the monster, "Fallen of Albaz," who is basically just a Superpolymerization on legs, to go into a lot of fusion-oriented plays. So, if you wish to begin with fusions, Brandeds are one I definitely would recommend to begin with.

Another deck I could recommend, if you really want to embrace your inner Pharaoh Atem, would be Dark Magician, due to how much overwhelming support it has, and still gets to this very day. Follows the "KISS" rule, or "Keep It Simple, Stupid." Typically, your main goal is to have a board ending on "Dark Magician the Dragon Knight," Dark Magical Circle, and Eternal Soul set, which you will activate as soon as you get the opportunity to, that being as early as the next turn's draw phase. This effectively shuts down any lame-brained attempts of trying to shut you down, as both Dragon Knight and Eternal Soul will be stuck in a loop of defense. Dragon Knight protects all of your spells/traps from destruction and targeting, and since it's name changes to "Dark Magician" while on the field or in the graveyard, it'll become unaffected to literally every effect that your opponent has to pull out of their ass due to Eternal Soul's continuous effect, and can be summoned back to the field by Eternal Soul if it gets destroyed by battle or it gets tributed for a Kaiju summon (you can ask me about THIS mechanic later on if you'd like to know any further information on that, which I recommend as it's better to know about the mechanic than to experience it firsthand and not know how it happened)

As for Ancient Gears...I would only recommend you build this if you're willing to make some VERY big investments, as it's really at it's "best" with other earth-attribute (or element), machine-type monster archetypes (such as Machina monsters and Infinitracks). While Ancient Gears also has a lot of fusion-centered mechanics - in fact that's 90% of the Ancient Gear archetype - in my experience, you're going to be using Ancient Gears with decks that utilize other extra deck summoning mechanics...A LOT.

However, you CAN make a purely Ancient Gears deck work if you've got better deck building skills than whatever I've got going on in my head, and got a lot more passion for it and ambition than I do. Really just depends on how you'd prefer that.

So, TLDR; I recommend Branded and/or Dark Magician (because you CAN in fact combine these two decks together) for a beginner deck, and I suggest that you do a lot more research on the Ancient Gear archetype if you wish to build an Ancient Gear deck, whether that be purely Ancient Gears, or combined with something else that can also work.

I hope to god that made sense and I didn't just make myself look like a complete and utter fool, lmfao, and I hope that this was at least SOMEWHAT helpful for you in becoming a Yu-Gi-Oh duelist.

#golden-hearts-muses #Mun Mumblings | OOC #asks #Hopefully that all made sense lmao!#So sorry if that was about as clear as swampwater!

4 notes · View notes

elatedfool · 10 days

Note

somnophilia (with or without consent you choose) with aventurine or sunday...

alright 👍🏻 i'm going with aventurine for this one, since his banner is tmrw yippee :3 may all avennie wanters become avennie havers ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

nsfw, consensual somnophilia, afab!reader, reader wears nightgown, fingering, spooning fucking (i have no idea what it's called (u_u)), established relationship, petnames used: darling, baby, sweetheart, little bunny.

"...my love?"

rubbing his tired eyes to prevent them from closing, aventurine enters your shared house together—only to find you asleep on the couch, filling the otherwise quiet living room with the soft rumble of your snores.

his lips slowly curl up to form a faint smile, little hearts dancing across his beautiful pupils as he steps closer to you, getting a good look at the way the silk gown highlights your curves—all the stress he accumulated from working instantly disappears into thin air the moment he came home to this, like something served only for him in a silver platter.

"you'll catch a cold..." he sighs, stepping closer to take you back inside your shared bedroom—while his eyes gawk at your body, glancing at your chest and legs, before he looks away and try not to act on his desire; you have said that it is fine for him to relief his stress by using you, even in an unconscious state—still, he'd rather not disturb your beauty sleep. slowly, he places you down on to the mattress and kissed your forehead, wishing you a good night's sleep before he stood up, attempting to leave and change his clothes first.

that is, until you decided to roll over, causing your dress to hikes up your thighs, revealing the skimpy and lacy panties underneath—aeons, how could you possibly be any more alluring? he wouldn't be able to hold back himself if this persists.

aventurine gently pushes the silky fabric further up, finally caving in, "'m sorry..." he murmurs, his gloved fingers slowly making their way inside your puffy folds, stimulating the sensitive nerves and getting surprised when he hears the squelching noises, already so loud when he barely does anything—he's starting to suspect that you may have been thinking of him a lot... probably not in an innocent way too (neither did he).

"are you dreaming of me, baby?" his lips curl up to form a small smirk, pumping his digits in and out of you faster, drawing out that little whines of yours that he loves so much, taking them as a sign to continue. he knew very well how skilled his fingers are, after all.

and continue, he did—laying down right behind you, slotting his erection between your thighs as the blunt head slowly slides into your tight little pussy, sucking him in so nicely as if this is the last time you can feel it. you're still so responsive, he thinks, groaning whenever you unconsciously push your ass against him, meeting his thrust while also arching your back.

the blond man tries to be as quiet as possible, burying his face into your nape and trailing kisses down your back with his arms settled on your hips to help him reach deeper and deeper, until his tip finally touches that one gummy spot—one that always makes you moan louder and beg him for more.

"fuck—i'm gonna cum, darling... ah—you're always so good for me..." he stammers, hips stuttering as the slapping noises intensifies, bouncing off the walls along with your soft mewls and his ragged breath.

it doesn't take long before the knot in your stomach snaps, your walls pulsating around his dick before he soon follows, stuffing you full with hot and sticky ropes of cum—so full that some of it form a ring around the base when he attempts to pull out. it surprises him to see just how pent-up he's been, but a sudden whimper from you brought snap him back to reality.

"'venturine... more, please..." for a moment, he was stunned—are you awake? or are you simply dreaming of doing this with him? the thought of being in your mind 24/7 easily flusters him, making his still-erect cock twitch inside you.

well, as a good boyfriend, what else can he do except to fulfill his little bunny's wishes?

his thumb finds its way back to your swollen nub, rubbing patterns across the sensitive area before he shoves his shaft back in, "as you wish, sweetheart,"

#restricted section．．．#hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine smut

831 notes · View notes

cypjj · 3 years

Photo

An alternate version of this piece, commissioned by @Diam_ond10 on twitter!

twitter post: [X]

#MAN ALL THE HEARTS...... it's so sweet my teeth hurt!!!#still not very skilled in drawing kisses but this came out alright!#sokai #kingdom hearts #fan art #digital #commission

267 notes · View notes

cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 3 years

Text

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –”

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

#Harry Potter #Harry James Potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #fluff #oneshot #my writing #angst #slow burn

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 3 years

Text

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #fred weasly x reader #sad reader #reader insert #artist reader #fred weasley fluff #sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit #why woukd they do that

688 notes · View notes

thebaileybugle · 2 years

Text

Rest

(Unedited)

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x male reader

Warning(s): Sexual tension, sexual innuendo, superior/subordinate relationship, lots of fluff

I was woken up by my phone ringing. I take notice of my wife's face buried in my neck, legs tangled with mine, and a hand on my chest. Carefully, I grab my phone off the nightstand beside us. I shut my eyes from the phone's bright light, blindly answering the phone, "Y/L/N." My voice is quiet and hoarse yet clear for the person on the other end.

"Good morning Section Chief Y/L/N, this is Director Connor’s assistant. He deeply apologizes for the early call but I wanted to set a last-minute meeting with you and Unit ChIef Hotchner this morning."

"Copy that, what time should I come to the 9th floor to meet the Director and Agent Hotchner?"

"Around 6:40 am, sir." She dragged her last word a bit. Terrible flirting skills.

"Alright, let him know I’ll be there, has Agent Hotchner been notified already, if not I have no problem calling."

"No need, Mr. Y/L/N. I have already made the call, see you at 6:40." With that, she hung up. I set my phone down and glanced at the time. It was 5:15 am. I run a hand through my hair and lie there for a minute, my right arm hanging on my wife's hip. I looked down at her to see if I woke the sleeping beauty, and my Y/E/C eyes were met with her drawing random shapes on my stomach w-ith her finger, her head still nuzzled into the warmth of my neck. "Meeting?" She murmured, sleep evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to wake you, J." I looked at her apologetically. She lifted her head from my neck to prop her chin on my chest to come face and face with me. Her ocean blue eyes found mine with a small smile. The small smile that took my breath away everytime.

"You didn't wake me, don't worry." I smiled back, though we both knew I was still unconvinced. JJ glanced at the clock and tapped my peck. “Besides, s’ time to get up anyway.” She assured me.

"Love, we just came back from a case only hours ago. You and the team need sleep after an-" JJ grabbed my stubble cover jaw and smashed our lips together, cutting off my words with a very successful method. She pulled away and looked into my eyes.

"Y/N, you didn't wake me up, and at this point, we are both programmed to automatically wake when our phone rings. So stop worrying about that... and we all- including you need sleep after that case, not just the team." My smile turns into a grin and this time I'm the one to initiate the kiss, she grins against my lips. When we pull away I go for another but she stops me by putting a finger on my lips.

"Hey, I wasn't done," I furrowed my brows. She raises her brow and points at my phone.

"Sorry, but you, The Section Chief, have a meeting in... an hour and twenty minutes." I pout and she laughs. JJ pecks my cheek softly and climbs out of bed and gestures to me to follow her into the bathroom so we can shower and get ready. I turn in the bed and snuggle into the pillow as if I was going back to sleep. JJ shakes her head, comes over, and squeezes me in my arm softly, "Come on Sir Sleeps A Lot.” I huffed out a sarcastic laugh while giving her a half-hearted

"Oh, I adore the irony, Love. You should be a stand-up comic." I remarked sarcastically, receiving a pillow to the head. Chuckling, I sat up and walked with her to the bathroom. Taking off my boxers I throw them in the hamper while JJ takes off her bra and pair of underwear, copying my movements. I turned on the shower and waited for it to get warm. It was these moments alone that I enjoyed. The warmth of comfortable silence with the woman I love was something that allowed everything that followed from the job to fade out with the rest of the world around us.

As we waited, JJ rested her arms around my neck and played with the short hairs on the back of my neck. Her pale skin was hot against mine making it easier to feel the coolness of her wedding ring. Gazing back into her eyes, I could see that she was thinking about something that made her suddenly nervous. Like she was contemplating telling me something was making her anxious. I raised an eyebrow in question why she was nervous. When she bit her lip and looked at the floor, it clicked what was going on with her. "You want to tell the team about us don't you?" I ask, letting my hands fall to her waist, bringing her closer against me. She groans and rolls her eyes.

"Tell me again why I married one of my own," I raise my other brow and she rolls her eyes. "Yes, I really do wanna tell them, the team only knows I'm married, I don't want to hide us anymore. N’ maybe I want Connor's assistant to know you're not on the market." I chuckle and give her a reassuring smile. I don’t mind telling the team about us. I’ll finally be able to take her out to actual restaurants for date nights instead of one of our houses. Though, there is still one problem with being open about our relationship…

"If you want to tell the rest of the team, I am fully on board with it. I just want you to know that when I asked if we could keep it on a low profile, I was scared that everyone would think less of you. We heard what Director Conway remarked about Unit Chief Wesly and Agent Johnson. Look, I know I shouldn't have cared or given it one thought but I didn't want people to start doubting you or your ability to do your job, my Angel.” I lick my lips and shake my head, continuing, “I still don’t. I want everyone to see the strong, independent, gorgeous, intelligent, and talented woman you were and are before you even met me. I don't want people to see you as Y/L/N's girl or just the Section Chief’s wife, I want people to see you as Jennifer Jareau, the badass BAU profiler that I see you as every, single, damn, day." I punctuated my last words with pecks to her lips. The feelings and words I’ve felt for months just spilled out all at once.

JJ just stared up at me, nothing but adoration and love clouding her beautiful eyes. "I was scared because I love you Jennifer Jareau." She swiftly brought my lips down to hers, placing her lips softly onto mine. It was her way of saying I love you and thank you. We part and I can't help but grin like an idiot.

"God I love you, Y/N.'' We leaned in for a kiss again, though this kiss was different, this time full of desperation and lust. I pulled her in even closer to my body if possible. Her sensitive breast brushed up against my chest causing her to let out a small gasp at the feeling, I took that as a chance to explore her mouth with my tongue. JJ applies more pressure to her arms around my neck to deepen the kiss. I walk her backwards into the shower without breaking the kiss as the warmth of the shower’s water hits us, her back against the wall.

Wanting to feel more of her, I lifted her and she wrapped her legs around my waist, my arms cupping her ass. I feel her hand find my wet hair and tugs it, the mixture of slight pain gives me pleasure causing a groan to like my lips. I can feel her grin against my lips, satisfied with the result. I retracted from the kiss only to go straight to her neck leaving love bites that trail from her jaw to her neck, I linger at her sweet spot. JJ’s angelic moans filled the room from the sensation.

A minute or two passes of me biting and sucking marks onto her delicate and soft skin, she brings me up back to her lips. JJ slowly and reluctantly pulls back and places her forehead on mine. "Y/N, you're gonna be late if we don't stop." She said between breaths. I sigh, almost whimper at the loss of contact with her body while letting her down. She gives me a smile, silently assuring me we would continue later.

I grab the Irish-Spring on the shower shelf and wash her body, relishing in its reaction to my touch. She returns my actions once I finish with her. We stand there under the water for a while gazing into each other's eyes the water smooths down us, taking the sud with it. Once done, JJ steps out of the shower first putting on her towel and handing me mine so I could wrap it around my waist.

We brush our teeth and resume our normal routine that we adapted after four years of being married and for three years of dating, but when JJ takes a moment to look at her neck, she sees the art that I left from earlier. A smug smirk melts onto my lips as I see her mouth go agape. The blonde looks at me, sees the look on my face then swats at my chest earning a snicker from me. She playfully rolls her eyes then turns back to the mirror so she can try to cover up the hickeys that formed on her neck. I hung our towels up then followed JJ into the closet and fished out a casual formal siut.

"Tie or no tie today?" I ask her. "How about a nice navy polo." She grinned. I chuckle. At the start of our relationship, JJ confessed that the sight of my arms in polo was a wonderful sight, especially when the polo was navy or black.

"Is that for work or your pleasure throughout the day?"

"Ooh no baby, I have Emily for that. I just don't want you overheating in the weather" She said grinning. I turn my head toward her and raise a brow and squint my eyes.

"Oh that hurt, love. You hurt me." I tease in a low tone.

"Oh really?" She says giddily, I pull her against my chest gently and kiss her passionately. She gasps into it and places her hands on my chest for stability, I grin and back my lips away my breath still brushing against hers.

"Okay, I take it back." She said breathlessly. I chuckle and move back, picking out a tie.

"Nope." I say popping the 'P'. She groans and I smirk while putting on my slacks. She bites her lip and goes silent for a small pause.

"What’s so wrong about your wife having a work wife?" She asked, I paused and looked at her before shaking my head with a goofy grin. Wi uh only my tie left ti put in j grab it and position it precisely around my neck, though JJ beat me to it tying it, swatting my hands away get a hold of it. I chuckle out a 'thank you' and she just smiles.

I think for a second while she continues her movements.

"I'll give the team a few days off. You all need it especially after that case." I state as she finishes.

"What about you Y/N/N? You almost got shot. Yes, a break would be nice, but you need one too." I was about to protest but she continued. "When was the last time you took a day or two off?"

I opened my mouth but closed it quickly knowing there was no point in arguing. She huffed.

"And don’t even try me anymore with the I’m fine bull you tell me and the rest? Y/N, last week we found you sleeping at your desk minutes after even stepping in the office for the morning." She says with a sigh. JJ’ hand comes up to cup my cheek and strokes her thumbs against it. "You need rest, running off of coffee every day won't substitute for sleep. Now you have to promise me that you will also take at least a few days off."

She gave me a look she only gave an unsub in the interrogation room, that's when I knew she was serious. I sigh, giving up on arguing. "Okay, I'll give the team and myself a couple of days off." She kisses me, smiling into it. Once we part, I look at my watch, '6:01'. "I'll see you at work, love, I love you."

"Love you too." She says back to me. I give her a quick kiss again and shrug my blazar on, grab my keys and briefcase making my way out the door.

#jennifer jareau x male reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #fluff #x male reader #jennifer jareau

162 notes · View notes

bubbleteaimagines · 3 years

Text

The Babysitter

Kuroo Tetsuro Oneshot

NSFW CONTENT

Summary || After months of sexual tension, Kuroo can’t resist fucking his pretty little babysitter on the couch

Pairings || Kuroo Tetsuro x Babysitter!Reader

Warnings || Smut, fingering, blowjobs, age gap (reader is 20) light praise, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink

Authors Note || In celebration of 3k, here is some Dilf!Kuroo that we all need in our lives

It was inevitable, you supposed. The tension between you two was simply too thick, and it had been for months— ever since you had started working for him.

Kuroo was a man that was very busy, and with a two year old daughter and a mother that was absent, it was no surprise that he needed some extra help.

That’s where you came in- fresh faced and right out of college, majoring in (Y/M/N) and needing a job for the summer.

A friend of a friend had been the one to hook you up, Kuroo taking a liking to you almost instantly.

He had to admit, it was your pretty face and bright smile that draw him in at first, but truly, you were most qualified candidate for the job.

Like a ray of sunshine, a breath of fresh air if he’d ever seen one.

Not to mention how his daughter absolutely loved playing with you from the moment she met you, so in Kuroo’s mind it was a no brainer.

That’s how it started— but your story with the older man would end much, much different.

With lingering glances here and there, subtle touches and late nights where you’d both just sit down and talk, it was no surprise to either of you that ended up here— face down on his couch and completely at his mercy.

Truthfully, it wasn’t supposed to end this way. You were only supposed to have a few drinks and then head home for the night, but somehow before Kuroo could even open the wine, the tension between the two of you had reach the boiling point.

Everything between you two had been spilled in an instant, and now you were a moaning mess as Kuroo’s soft lips attached themselves to your clit, biting and sucking softly while his long fingers worked magic on your cunt.

“You like that babygirl?” Nicknames, so many of them, and they sounded so sexy coming from his lips. You damn near came right then and there as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, nibbling a little while his assault on your pussy continued.

“Y-Yes,” You found yourself squeaking out a reply, too wrapped up in pleasure to respond with anything coherent. But alas, Kuroo wasn’t satisfied. He gave you pointed look as he fingers came to a still, a whine leaving your throat at the loss of contact.

“Kuroo!”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s not my name. You know better,” He said disapprovingly. It only took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up, a spark of realization flowing through you before you uttered out the correct word.

“Daddy.”

“That’s it,” Kuroo gave you a huge smirk and in no time, continued on with brining you to your high. Admittedly, the man was skilled. Despite never having explored your body before, he knew exactly where to touch you, knew exactly the right spots to make you see stars. “Let me hear you baby- let see hear you cum for me.”

“F-Fuck, fuck!” A breathless moan left your lips as you threw your head back, pleasure taking over every sense. You could barely breathe, too focused on the orgasm that came crashing over you, knocking the air out of your lungs and rendering your brain useless.

You came, harder than you ever had before, all over Kuroo’s slender fingers. In fact, your little pussy made a mess all over his expensive couch but at the moment, Kuroo didn’t care.

His cock was growing harder by the minute as he watched you come undone under him, because of him.

He’s never seen anyone look so sexy, already looking fucked out even though he just started.

“You alright there babygirl?” He’s kind enough to ask, leaning down to stroke your cheeks. Wordlessly, you nod, but Kuroo can tell there’s something on your mind. Suddenly, you sit up, and there’s a hopeful look in yours as you crawl over towards him and pout.

“I wanna ride you, daddy,” You tell him, jutting out your lower lip and tugging on his belt. Fuck. How could Kuroo resist you when you looked at him like that? All needy for him, pussy throbbing at just the idea of him fucking you senseless.

“Fuck, you sure, baby?” He checks to make sure you’re serious before making his next move, and sure enough- you nod eagerly and tug at him again, a whine leaving your throat. He was moving too slow, being a gentleman, sure, but right now you wanted him to fuck you like a whore.

“Yes daddy, I’m absolutely sure,” You tell him confidently, and it doesn’t take much after that to get Kuroo to agree. Quickly, his hands replace yours at pulling at his belt, fumbling with the material and cursing himself for tying it too tight. Eventually though, he manages to get the damn thing off and throws it across the room, making a small clatter that neither of you pay attention to.

And suddenly, Kuroo’s sitting down on the couch and letting you do all the work of undressing him, chuckling at how eager you are. You grab at his clothes like your life depends on it— first his shirt, then his pants, and finally his boxers come off and Kuroo has the absolute pleasure of taking in your ‘O’ shaped mouth, jaw dropping at the size of his cock.

“D-Daddy, you’re so big,” You tell him, eyes wide. Way bigger than any of the college boys you’ve been with. Kuroo was hung and is was making your mouth water, desperate for a taste.

“Go on,” He softly encouraged you after seeing the look on your face, snaking his hands behind your head and gripping your hair. “Give it taste. Let me cum all over those pretty little lips babygirl.”

You’re all eager to fulfill his request, blinking innocently before leaning in and darting your tongue out. Kuroo groans at the action, back straining against the couch as you do it once more before finally giving him the real thing.

Your mouth is hot and tight wrapped around him, pure Heaven, Kuroo thinks, as you get to work and start sucking him like a pro.

Your head bobs up and down, taking him as much as you can and using your hands to stroke the parts you can’t reach. You open up your throat and take him deeper- so deep that you start gagging on his cock.

Kuroo moans at the vibrations and despite your teary eyes, he pulls your head further down and stuffs your mouth with his cock.

He moans again as he feels a pit in his stomach, his orgasm bubbling up the more you pleasured him.

You could feel it, too, by the way he was turning into putty under your touch and groaning every time you stroked him. Slowly, you look up to meet his eyes as you tease his tip with your tongue Kuroo suddenly lets go- sinful noises leaving his lips as thick, white ropes of his cum shoot out and down your throat.

Like the good girl you are, you swallow every last drop before finishing off with a ‘pop!’ Kuroo panting heavily as you sit back on your knees.

“Was I good, daddy?” You ask him, Kuroo frantically nods as he pulls you up, positioning you on his lap and just over his cock.

“The best, babygirl. You took me so well,” Kuroo praises you, stroking your hair before smiling. “You think you’re ready to take my cock now, pretty girl?” He asks, and you nod frantically.

“Yes, please Daddy. I want it so bad,” You tell him, gripping his shoulders, and that’s Kuroo needs to hear in order to spread your legs and lower you on his cock.

You moan as his tip begins to push past your tight walls, the breath leaving your lungs the more he fills you up. God, he’s so big, and he knows it too which is why he give you a little time to adjust to his size before slowly fucking into you.

“Fuck!” It’s so painful and delicious at the same time. The way you stretch around him, your little pussy desperately trying to take him. You throw your head back in pleasure when he bottoms out, hands coming up to steady you.

Your movements are slow at first, only rocking your hips and bouncing a little while you ease into a rhythm. However, you’re practically dripping around him and that makes it all the more easier to move, finally being to able warm up to his size.

The pace that you settle on leaves you both a moaning mess, trying to keep it down as to not disturb his daughter that’s sleeping upstairs. You have to bury yourself into the crook of Kuroo’s neck in order to mask your moans, walls clenching around his cock.

He’s so deep that it has you crying out every few seconds, wrapping your body around him to keep yourself ground. Kuroo doesn’t mind though, in fact he pulls you into a deep kiss as you continue to bounce around him, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

Somehow, your hands find his messy hair and you tug on it gently as you begin to feel another orgasm rising up. Kuroo can feel the way your walls are clenching around him, and decides to take the lead. Grabbing your hips, he steadies you before thrusting up and matching your pace, pounding into you while you try to hold on for dear life.

It’s no use though, pleasure clouds over you in an instant, your vision going in and out as you moan and whine against his lips. Eventually though, you’re forced to pull away for air and take deep breath, your body shaking. You’re not sure how much longer you can last like this, and Kuroo knows.

He feels the way you’re squirming and whining against him, he loves the way you’re going absolutely feral for his cock. He wants nothing more than to make you cum around him, and so he snakes a hand down and rubs at your clit, teasing you just enough to send you over the edge.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You cry out as your walls clamp down on him, creaming all over Kuroo’s cock. Your eyes roll into the back your head and you hear Kuroo groaning underneath you as you squeeze him like never before. Fuck, you’re so tight that he has no choice but to cum too, a loud moan leaving his lips as the milky white substance paints your walls.

He stuff you full of it, his good little girl milking him dry before he pulls out at watches run down your thighs.

You’re breathing heavily as your eyelids slowly open, coming down from your high to see Kuroo as equally as flustered. You both need a minute to calm down before you speak, slowly moving off of his lap and collapsing on the couch next to him.

“That was...” You don’t even have the words for it. You’ve never been fucked so good before, the man making you cum twice which had never happened with any of your other hook-ups. It seems that Kuroo was feeling the same, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed as he leaned back on the couch, sweat dripping down his forehead. Even in his fucked out state though, he still looks incredibly handsome. Black hair sticking to his face, brown eyes wide with blown pupils...man, he really was beautiful.

You found yourself smiling the more you admired him, and Kuroo quickly caught onto your stare.

“What? Is there something on my face?” He asked jokingly, shying away from your gaze. You grinned at the light blush that crossed his cheeks.

“No, no...I just...you’re really handsome, you know that?” You found yourself saying, taking Kuroo by surprise. His brows furrowed together at your words, but he quickly recovered, a sly smirk forming on his face.

“Took you long enough to notice, didn’t it?” He teased, lightly nudging you. You giggled at the action but shook your head.

“No, I’ve always noticed. But honestly I didn’t think-”

“You didn’t think I’d see you that way,” Kuroo finished knowingly. You nodded. “Huh. Well isn’t that something.”

“I just thought...well I dunno. I didn’t think you’d be interested in me. I mean after all I’m just the babysitter, kinda cliche isn’t it?” You said.

Kuroo chuckled. “Yeah...I suppose it is. But this...us...it’s not just a one time thing, is it?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” You tell him seriously, turning to face him. “I mean...I’m willing to you know...be more, if that’s what you want.”

“You mean like a date?” Kuroo asked, shocked.

“I’m free on Friday’s,” You tell him shyly. But despite this, Kuroo finds himself smiling and slowly nodding at your proposition.

“Friday yeah? I’d say we’re doing things a little backwards, but I’d love to take you out,” He can’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face, his heart pounding a little at the shy, relived grin on your own.

“Okay...Friday it is then,” You beam, reaching for your lost clothing that’s been scattered on the floor. It was getting late, and you really should be getting home before your roommate starts to worry, but you find yourself not wanting to leave at all. Kuroo had completely intoxicated you, making you want to do nothing but stay in his arms for the rest of the night. Unfortunately though, you both froze as a cry pierced through the house and Kuroo cursed as he frantically got up, and slipped his clothes on

“I’m sorry,” He sent you an apologetic look as Kiana began to cry, having woken up from her sleep. “I hate to leave things like this but...”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, smiling a little as you gesture upstairs. “She needs you, I understand. I’ll get my time on Friday, yeah?”

“I can’t wait,” Kuroo tells you honestly, stopping momentarily to press a quick kiss on your lips before darting to the stairs. “I’ll call you later this week, okay?”

“I can’t wait,” You repeat his words, grinning at his toned figure before watching him disappear up the stairs. Even from where you were, you could hear Kuroo gently cooing and trying to soothe baby Kiana (named closely after her uncle) and it made your heart absolutely melt.

Shaking your head, you gathered the rest of your stuff and quickly slipped out of the door before you ended up in a puddle due to the cuteness. Already, you had your phone out and rang up your roommate -also your best friend- as you walked to your car, excitement bubbling through your veins.

“Hello?” They answered on the first ring.

You grinned. “Y/F/N, you will never believe what just happened to me...”

#kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#dilf!kuroo #3k event #spicytea.txt

2K notes · View notes