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#i need to acknowledge my favorite holiday Somehow
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unless my tablet charges Really Fast i have no halloween treat to offer so uhhhh
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grab a handful and Run! they cant catch you all
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tbzhub · 7 months
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Just Go Fuck Him
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Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader
Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.
Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada
Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining
WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)
Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually
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The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day. 
Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out—  there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.
Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt. 
Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.
So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.
But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.
You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.
It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.
-
The thing about people-pleasing was that you never knew where you’d end up. You could set out to be polite to some unexpected guest to appease your mother and end up staring face-to-face with your childhood fucking crush. This wasn’t hypothetical; this was actually happening, and you were currently wearing drab black sweatpants.
He says hi first, hugging you at the front door as your parents invite him in for tea, and you stand there looking like a fucking idiot troll whose soul has just left their body. Specifically, you were internally screaming as you said hello and tried not to look like you were combing through your hair with your fingers.
“It’s been so long, Hyunjae. How’s your mom?” Your mom asks as she heads into the kitchen to start the kettle, and you look down at your hands as he responds to her. 
He’s still just as polite as he used to be when you were kids, and that pisses you off.
“It’s so lovely of you to visit,” you hear your dad chime in, and you want to scowl because you felt quite the opposite. Who visits someone they haven’t spoken to in well over half a decade out of the blue without even a single warning? How were you the only person put off by this rogue visitation?
“I thought you were a travel photographer. What are you doing back here?” You ask, and really, you wish you could tell him to leave because this was too much, and you could feel the memories starting to stew inside your brain. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you looked up at his ever-charming smile, and all you wanted to do was flee to your room.
“I moved back. I missed home.” 
-
Hyunjae’s return meant your parents weren’t the only non-empty nesters anymore, which should make you feel better about yourself, but it doesn’t. It makes you feel like a child again and not in a way that should feel safe or warm and fuzzy. It makes you remember your childhood with him as your next-door neighbor. It makes you remember your childhood in general, and it makes you remember all the shenanigans that the two of you got up to together. All the silly poems and doodles you’d write about him in your journal growing up start to whisper around in your mind. All the conversations you’d have in your backyards pull to the forefront of your brain. Core memories flash like you’re watching a synopsis of your life thus far when you close your eyes after turning in for the night. 
You slowly began to remember just how easy it was for you to grow attached to the boy that lived next door…
Hyunjae was a few years older than you, but he was always sweet, unlike the boys his age who lived in the neighborhood. Even in your younger years, it was his kindness that really set him apart in your mind. He was one of the few older kids who played nicely with the younger kids instead of ditching or excluding them or stealing their toys. 
When you fell and scraped your knee trying to ride a bike for the very first time without any training wheels, he was quick to run inside his house to get a bandaid and a small bag of ice. He had kissed your bandaid-covered knee in hopes that it would get you to stop crying, and at the time, you thought the gesture was ludicrous; he wasn’t a mom, so there was no way that he could have the ability to wipe away someone’s pain with the simple press of his lips. 
That was the day that you learned it wasn’t just mothers who held such a magical power
-
So you were putting effort into your looks to walk the dogs now... Nothing crazy— just making sure your hair wasn’t frizzy and that your clothes weren’t wrinkled before you left the house. You hadn’t run into Hyunjae yet, but it was bound to happen, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard when it did.
The dogs were slower than usual to round the block this afternoon, but you didn’t mind, enjoying the album you were listening to as you admired the cotton candy-like clouds dashed across the beautiful pale blue sky. For someone who spent such a massive chunk of their time indoors, you really did appreciate being outside.
Apparently Hyunjae felt the same way. You saw him outside for the first time since he came back, sitting on his front porch with a camera in his hands as he presumably took shots of the sky above. This was perfect actually. You could skitter by unnoticed. With your headphones over your ears and a fancy digital camera concealing most of his face, there should be this shared agreement that deterred one from interrupting the other for the sake of exchanging pleasantries. 
As you move closer, your house getting more prominent in your field of view, you’re reminded that dogs don’t give a fuck about made-up social contracts. Yours pull on their leashes to get to Hyunjae, one barking, and that’s enough to steal the man’s attention away from snapping the shutter. 
Damn. Your streak of avoidance shattered.
He smiles when he sees it’s you and waves with the most earnest expression on his face, and for a brief moment, you forget how to walk like an able-bodied person, legs feeling like mush and mind going blank as his inviting eyes settle on you and your dogs. 
“One foot in front of the other. Smile like a sane person. Don’t let him sense his sheer power over you.”
You repeat the mantra in your mind as you let your dogs pull you closer to him, nearing his front porch with bated breath and a weak smile. It's those wooden steps at the entrance of his house that get you, the ones that harbored far too many sweet core memories. As you sit beside him on the landing, you can’t help but think of every single time that you’ve sat here in the past.
“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arm around you briefly in a friendly, one-armed hug before he sets his fancy digital camera far away from the dogs’ reach.
Your hello is soft and shy, but you didn’t stutter at the physical touch, so you’d consider that a small win.
“So you came home just to take pictures of the sky?”
He snorts at your question, “I already told you why…
“I got tired of the world at large. Plus, there’s more than enough beauty around here. The familiar things deserve to be photographed, too.” He admits simply– as if the sentiment is genuine common knowledge. He’s smiling down at you, and for a second, maybe it was a delusion, but you honestly felt like he was talking about you specifically.
“Watch. I’ll show you what I mean.”
He reaches out for his camera and begins to snap pictures of your dogs, petting them and scratching behind their ears. One of your dogs must secretly be a Hyunjae simp because he can capture her dopey smile perfectly.
You silently watch as he goes through the pictures, his smile widening, and he leans close to show you the one that must have tugged at his heartstrings. It’s a picture of your dog, face cradled in Hyunjae’s large hand, her eyes practically shining with glee, and she has the cutest doggy smile to match.
You giggle, face breaking into perhaps its first genuine smile in such a long time. “This is perfect. I have to show Mom. I’d love a copy if you don’t mind?” 
When you look up from the camera, you notice just how close you are, invading his personal space unwittingly, and a blush rises in your cheeks as you quickly lean away to create some tangible distance.
He only hums in agreement before shutting his camera off again and making eye contact with you. “I’ll send you a copy later tonight. Has your number changed?”
-
When you finally get home, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and the spring in your step is undeniable. You let the dogs off their leashes and put away your headphones before practically skipping to your bedroom.
You flop on your bed, feeling weightless and energized from the crumb of interaction... This could become a problem, an addiction— could a person become addicted to another person? Regardless of the answer, you squealed in bed, covering your face in your hands as you let every single positive emotion flood through your body. Your legs kick in the air, and you feel giddy, high on the love and infatuation of a crush a decade in the making.
Oh, you were so fucking doomed. Hyunjae needed to either move away or express his intent to marry you as soon as possible because every feeling you’d shoved down had come back in full force, plus interest.
A knock on your bedroom door makes you freeze mid-tizzy, and as the door creaks open, it's your mom’s head that peeks into your room, and the smile that graces her lips looks nearly childlike. She wanted to gossip, you could tell.
“I saw you sitting over at the Lee’s. It’s been so long since I've seen you two sit outside on his porch steps like that.” She says, and immediately, your face goes blank. Any traces of giddiness is sucked right out of you in exchange for bashfulness. 
Vibe ruined. You felt so exposed.
“What? I’m happy. You two used to be so close growing up, and he was such a sweet kid. It’s just nice to see…” she trails off before finally taking the hint and leaving you alone to writhe in your newfound angst and embarrassment.
Your mom was right, though. You spent ample time on the Lee’s front porch growing up.
When everyone had gotten old enough to where the playing field was level, and the neighborhood kids could all get off the school bus together, it was common to hang out in a large group after school. Sometimes, this entailed sitting around and talking. Still, most of the time, this led to adventuring around the block and getting into what could only be labeled as dumb, child-appropriate shenanigans.
It didn’t take long for you to bow out of these afternoon activities in exchange for seclusion, sat at your front door doing your homework, reading a book, or maybe drawing. You didn’t want to partake in what everyone else was doing.
Hyunjae had been the one to start the unspoken tradition by randomly sitting on his porch one day instead of running out to play with everyone else. You noticed him outside, but your head is inside a book about horses, and frankly, what someone else did on their porch was none of your adolescent business.
But that day, he called you over, asking if you wanted to sit with him, and when you explained that you were reading a book, he was quick to respond, saying the same thing.
“We don’t have to talk. Just sit next to me.” That was his persuasive pitch, and it worked.
That day, you sat side by side on his front porch steps, one reading a picture book about horses and the other reading a Spiderman comic book. When he noticed you struggling to sound out an unfamiliar word, he broke the comfortable silence to help you.
That's how it started, the many sessions of keeping each other company on his wooden steps. That’s probably the true catalyst of your friendship, him calling you over and you obliging his request, sitting side by side on wooden steps instead of running around with the other neighborhood kids.
Gradually, this evolved from a mini reading club to you bringing art supplies over to paint together, him helping you with your math homework when it got tough, or even him simply reading a chapter of his library books to you with your head laid against his shoulder, eyes closed as you pictured the fictitious world that Hyunjae was describing to you.
The Lee’s front porch steps slowly became a second home to you, and as you both grew up, experiencing life in new and complicated ways, sometimes the only thing that helped you get by was sitting on those steps with Hyunjae by your side.
-
The coming days felt slow; your typical routine of couch cocooning left you unsatisfied, and you found yourself counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could walk your dogs outside. Which was silly because you were a grown adult; you didn't need to find an excuse to go out… but you did want an excuse to run into Hyunjae again.
Which again— you were a grown adult, and you could take life by the balls and knock on his front door, say hi, and invite yourself in. You weren't going to do that, but at the very least, you acknowledged that plan as a viable option: baby steps and all that.
In your defense, though, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself, and you were scared. So much has changed over the years since you’d last appropriately spoken. You had so many unanswered questions, and you felt like the elephant in the room, the elephant that you’d birthed, still hadn't been addressed… You didn’t think that you’d earned the right to rogue, unannounced visitations in the same way that Hyunjae did.
As of right now, you are settling on the waiting game. Hyunjae sent you the picture of your dog, just as he’d promised, but you haven't seen him outside since. At this point, the ball was in the universe’s court, and you hoped to be favored kindly.
Today, you decided to bring your pinning to a different location, settling on cleaning your bedroom instead of wistfully thinking about Hyunjae as you stared out your living room windows. You would give your room a real deal deep clean; organize and clean out your closet, vacuum, feather dust, wipe down your bedroom windows, and toss out anything that hadn’t been used in three years— the works.
You were moving through these tasks with music on blast, shimmying and singing along while you harbored a spray bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. No area was safe for dirt or dust in your room. You were intent on cleaning until your room was interior design magazine-level spotless, and the next inanimate victim was your window. You pushed back the curtains and drew the blinds to reveal the dusty glass pane.
Wow, this should get done more often.
You attacked the window pane with cleaning spray and started wiping, swaying to the beat of the bass-heavy song that played through your speakers, and soon you're doing more dancing than wiping. You get lost in the song, singing into the window as if you were in a music video as you run the cleaning cloth over the glass like it was a prop.
Then you notice Hyunjae standing in his bedroom window, and you halt. How long had he stood there? How much of your theatrics had he witnessed? You remove your hand from the glass, and your face twists up in humiliation. 
He crosses his arms, eyebrows arching upwards, but the rest of his expression seems impassive before he finally bursts into a fit of laughter, causing you to do the same. Your embarrassment dissipates as he claps his hands to applaud you for such a lovely showcase, and you playfully bow. 
This moment wasn’t the first time that one of you has gotten caught being weird in the recesses of your bedrooms by the other, but it’s been so long that you can’t help but giggle. Some things really don’t change, and you’re glad that, at this point, getting caught by Hyujnae feels the same way as it did when you were younger. No judgment, just a short shock of embarrassment followed by playfulness and laughter shared between good friends. 
-
Hyunjae’s been back home for over a month now, and you were still… dragging your feet when it came to acknowledging the obvious. You were being stubborn, and you were starting to annoy your mother. She, so badly, wanted to play matchmaker. Yet, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, insisting for the nth time that you did not like Hyunjae and that he did not like you. She’d roll her eyes and drop the matter, but she always muttered something under her breath. Then you’d act like you didn't hear, just like she’d act like you hadn’t spewed such a bald-faced lie.
You did like him, though. You more than liked him, and that’s what startled you most. To want someone in so many ways... The concept was so new to you, and Hyunjae made pining over him refreshing. 
There were parts of it that were innocent and parts that felt like carnal desire. You wanted to talk to Hyunjae every day like you used to— to spend time with him every day, just like when you were kids. There was this familiarity in his presence that was soothing, and yet most days, he left you feeling drunk off the feelings and needs that you’d developed for him. 
He was sweet, and he made you laugh, but at his baseline? Hyunjae was a flirt that left you flustered all the time. 
It’s the looks he gives you, the curve at the corner of his lips when he’d notice you short-circuit from one of his sly compliments, or the intense eye contact he’d give you while you spoke. It was the way he’d playfully nudge you as you sat beside him on his porch steps, and it was most definitely the cheeky smile he'd flash at you when he was jogging around the block with his shirt off. With all of that, you were starting to look at him differently, and you found yourself appreciating him in ways that you’d never paid attention to before.
When had he gotten so irresistibly attractive? Has he always been this undeniably sexy?
He’d gotten stronger, bulkier. It only took a few shameless glances in his direction while he was outside, gearing up for a run, to notice just how toned he was. His back muscles were lean. His arms looked so firm… like he could protect you with them or wrap them around you as he drilled nothing but raw pleasure into your body. The thought alone made you shiver, and it was becoming damn near impossible to look at him in a friendly way. Exceptionally not with his lips so perfectly crafted. He had lips that could easily hypnotize you— and they did often. You’d try your hardest to focus on his words just to fantasize about how sweet and kissable his lips were. 
Right now, you were stuck between reality and a daydream as you stood outside listening to Hyunjae speak. You’d crossed paths as he was coming in from a late evening jog, and you were heading out to walk the dogs. You watched the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip slowly, and then your eyes began to trail down past his bare chest. Before you could fall deeper into your thoughts, heat spread across your chin, and your face got tilted upward for you to meet Hyunjae’s gaze.
“Like what you see?” He guesses, calling you out playfully, and your reaction time is slow to it all. 
You barely register getting caught as you focus on the sudden physical contact, the way his hand cups your chin firmly, and the warmth that his fingers provide to your skin. His touch lingers as you stare up at him with a facial expression displaying nothing but need. How could such a simple gesture cause you to buckle so intensely? If you tried to speak right away, you might let out a moan. 
You have to take a step back to regain your composure, and your hand tightens around the leash that you're holding. 
Fuck. 
For a moment, you’d even forgotten all about your dogs. They needed a walk, and here you were eye fucking Hyunjae outside his childhood home. Your words are mumbled and short as you try to slink away, stepping to the side to get around him on the sidewalk.
“My bad.”
That’s all you could say. It was the lamest thing to come out of your mouth in a while, but your dogs could be your escape from such an awkward situation. 
His hand grabs your wrist, though, stopping you from completing one of your little vanishing acts. You can barely hear him over your rapidly beating heart. All you can make out is that he’ll text you when to come over, and there's something else about going for a drive.
-
Hyunjae kept taking casual side glances your way while you sat together in his car. No one was talking, and you could tell he was gearing up to say something ridiculous. The smirk that graced his mouth was your leading indicator, and the suspense killed you. The lull in your conversation only heightened your anticipation as you tried to relax into the passenger seat, sitting silently and with thick tension.
“You never answered my question, you know.” His words come out so nonchalant that you nearly misunderstand him.
But you could play coy, too, so you take a long sip from your drink to keep him waiting.
 “Hm?” 
The eye roll he gives you is comical and dramatic, and he feigns offense as his hand covers his heart.
“You forgot that fast? Wow, dude. Check me out, and then forget all about it. I feel used.” Even as the words pass his lips, he’s smiling, his eyes creasing, and the rise of his cheekbones are very telling. Hyunjae just loved to see you squirm in the hot seat.
“I don’t know what— did you just call me dude?” His phrasing finally registers, and you scoff. Was this a date, or did you just get painfully friendzoned?
His eyebrows quirk upward, and the smirk along his lips turns devilish momentarily as he hums, eyes intently on your own.
“I’m sorry. Would you prefer something more forward? I could call you baby… there's also babe, angel, sunshine. Buttercup if we’re feeling frisky. Darling is a favorite of mine, but anything’s on the table, really.” 
Your nose scrunches up at his blatant teasing. The man was straight up toying with your emotions. “Just f-forget about it.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.” 
His words bounce around the car before striking straight through you. The cup in your hand clatters clumsily into its holder as you drop it.
So much for keeping it cool.
“Ooooh, so that’s the one. I’ll remember that.” He says through a chuckle and a smug grin as he reclines further in his seat.
“You know you didn’t have to bring me all the way out here to tease me. You were doing a pretty good job from the comfort of your own home.” 
You tried to sound dry and aloof, but you started to buzz with anticipation. The feelings that you’d kept hidden, albeit poorly, would be pushed and prodded to the surface, thanks to Hyunjae and his charming smile.
“That’s not why I brought you out here. I actually wanted to talk. I’ve missed you.” He admits, reaching out to touch your shoulder tenderly. 
“Hyunjae. We’re neighbors. You see me every day.” You assert, facial expression going deadpan as you stare back at his unwavering flirtatious gaze.
He sighs at that, mind seeming to go to a faraway place before he speaks up again.
“It’s more than that. I miss how close we used to be. We haven’t hung out alone like this since the summer before my senior year of high school. It feels like decades have passed and…
“It felt like it happened out of nowhere. It was like one day, we were close. I’d say we were best friends, and then the next day, you woke up and decided that wasn’t the case anymore. Why? What did I do?”
There was a gleam of hurt in his eyes that caused your bottom lip to jut out as guilt struck you. Hyunjae was right. You were close. He was your favorite person, and you were his. He was ever-present throughout much of your life, and then you ghosted him. You could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, and you’d decided to stop being his friend. 
You were a teenager riddled with insecurities, and instead of talking to him about it— or talking to anyone for that matter, you’d made the conscious decision to become reclusive. You thought that you needed to detach from someone that you, for the longest time, considered was your one and only gift from the universe growing up.
You purse your lips together before opening your mouth to speak, but doubt settles and seeps into your bones. “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding dumb.” 
Hyunjae shrugs, “Just say it. Dumb or not. We’ll piece everything together as a team.”
His eyes were soft, and his hand went to rest on your knee, giving you all the comfort and safety that you needed to explain yourself.
“Um… obviously, I have a crush on you, right? Like, let’s move past that fact fast.” You pause to read Hyunjae’s reaction, but he only gives you a small smile while his hand reaches for yours, lacing his fingers through your own.
“A-and… I guess I knew that even back then. I mean, yeah. I had a huge fucking crush on you back then. Oh god, it was bad. It's just as bad as it is now, honestly. But when we were in high school, I started developing all these insecurities. I started noticing that other girls looked different from me. They didn’t grow up getting used to the hospital like I did. They didn’t have these long surgical scars on their legs like mine. You remember that part of my life, right? Your mom let you visit me after my first surgery when I was super young.”
Somewhere along the way, you shifted in your seat to stare out the window as you spoke, unable to hold eye contact and show vulnerability simultaneously.
“I didn’t realize it then because I was so young… I just wanted to feel better, but my body was branded with all this trauma. The scars on my thighs documented it all. It was hard going to gym class. The locker room was awful; I’d feel so insecure, and then I’d have to think about you constantly. All the girls knew you, and they’d talk about how hot you were. All. The. Time. And because I was your best friend, they’d ask me about you all the time. I was ‘popular’ but only because they wanted something from me. I couldn’t deal with it. All these beautiful girls with perfect, flawless skin constantly asked me about the guy that I’d liked for so long.
“I could not deal with another school year being seen only as the gateway to Hyunjae. I spent that summer in my room crying and wishing that things were different. That I was different, that I'd wake up and these scars would be gone. That I could finally get the guy that I’d wanted for so long… Obviously, that never happened. So I thought that if I put you and our friendship behind me, maybe I could, at the very least, move on because why would a guy like you want someone so far from perfect.”
You did it. Hyunjae is finally caught up and no longer left in the dark. All that was left to do now was listen to his response. You feel firm hands grab at your waist, and you're awkwardly pulled out of your seat until you're straddling Hyunjae’s lap.
“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, but… is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you because of something like that?” He’s looking up at you with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and all you can do is nod meekly.
“I hate that, you know. I hate knowing that you spent an entire summer crying, and I was right next door, and I didn’t know.” His hands fall to your thighs, squishing them in his hold gently as he processes all of this information.
“I can’t even joke about how down bad we’ve been for each other because right now I’m shocked.” He goes on, sighing heavily before chewing on his bottom lip.
“My mom raised me right. I can reassure you that I would never care about something like that. I know, all too well, how to appreciate and treat a good woman. You’ve always been beautiful to me, and you’ll continue to be. Always. No matter what. Those parts of you are gorgeous, too, because they’re a part of the bigger, breathtaking picture.
“I don’t want to miss out on any more time, okay?”
Before you can grace him with a response, his lips are on yours, and his hand is pressed against your back as he pushes your body closer to his.
It was the kind of kiss that made you realize just how lonely you’d been. Urgency and desire ran straight through your veins to pool at your center, and you felt like you were melting into the man below you. You could stay like this forever, straddling Hyunjae’s hips while your tongue collided beautifully with his. He kissed you like a thirsty man dying for a drink. Faint gasps leave your chest whenever he pulls away to breathe to dive back in and fuse his mouth with yours again. 
So this is how Hyunjae’s lips feel. This is how it feels to be kissed by him.
You both become lost in the kiss, and his hands begin to roam. Warmth spreads across your lower back as one of Hyunjae’s hands snakes its way underneath your shirt to caress your skin, and a shiver flows up your spine. Your fingers tangle into his hair, anchoring yourself to this moment as your hips roll. That’s when you feel it.
“Oh.” You breathe out.
The tent in his pants nudges against you perfectly as you're coaxed into a steady grind by the firm hand pressed along your back.
“Feel good?” He asks, pulling away to look up at you with glossy lips and messy hair. Your nod is an eager one as you try to lean down, eyes closing as you search for his lips again while Hyunjae leans into you, pressing kisses to your neck instead. 
You feel his free hand creep up to your thighs as you continue to chase after the friction his crotch provides. Your skirt slowly becomes bunched up, cool air hitting your thighs, and you freeze, shyness and insecurity washing over you.
“J-jae…” You stutter out in a whisper, grabbing his face in your hand to stop him from looking down.
There’s a look of understanding on his face, but you also see a glint of something else in his eyes. “Wanna come back to my place, Sweetheart? I can think of some ways to help you get comfortable.”
-
As promised, Hyunjae made you feel safe and comfortable. He asked for permission before peeling a new article of clothing away from your body each time. He litters soothing touches and gentle kisses to any freshly exposed skin as he gets you undressed fully. When you’re completely bare, he’s keen to comfort you, making a point of looking you in the eyes before sneaking a glance down to your chest briefly.
“Just focus on me, okay?” He says, voice as soft as cotton while his hand comes up to stroke the side of your face sweetly.
He leans back to take off his shirt, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless more than a handful of times, you can’t help the whine that leaves you. Your eyes trail down his toned torso and settle expectantly on his hands that fiddle with his jeans. You were about to learn something new about Hyunjae, and you were paying very close attention.
He was big, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to stop the moan that tries to punch out of you. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you stare blatantly at every part of him before your wide eyes finally lift to meet his gaze.
“It’ll fit.” He reassures smugly, and you roll your eyes at that.
“When did you get so cocky?” You sass through a tease as you're pushed backward onto his bedsheets.
“Don’t be jealous, Sweetheart. You’ll be full of cock soon.” He tosses back, causing you to shudder. 
He hovers above you for a moment, caging your body in between his strong arms as he looks down at you with fondness in his gaze while he admires your beauty. He leans down to kiss you on the lips before moving down your body.
His lips press against every part of your body on his trek down your chest and past your stomach. When he gets to your thighs, he takes his time, closing his eyes as he kisses every spot, running his tongue along the blemishes that make you doubt yourself. He alternates his love and affection as he slots himself between your legs, nipping at one thigh before pressing a wet kiss to the other.
You feel weightless already. There's not an ounce of nervousness in your body as Hyunjae worships the parts of you that you thought you disliked the most. You felt cared for, cherished, and like you were the most enticing person in the world. The tingling sensations travel closer and closer to the apex between your thighs until you let out a gasp that quickly morphs into a whimper.
“Jae— 
You're cut off by a moan as Hyunjae’s tongue swipes up your wetness in one languid motion, causing a jolt of pleasure to dash through your body. He hums into your pussy as he runs his tongue from side to side, parting your folds and tasting you hungrily before he slots your clit between his lips. You lurch forward, and he reaches one arm up to press you back into the bed, resting his hand on your stomach. He pushes your thighs farther apart with his free hand; his grip is tight around your thigh while he buries his face further into your pussy, tongue unrelenting as he sucks on your clit in tandem with the flicks of the wet muscle.
You didn’t know how to move through life after experiencing something life-altering like this. Hyunjae’s mouth made you feel unreal. His tongue could easily be labeled the 8th wonder of the world. All you could do was softly moan his name like you were reciting a prayer as he worked you over. 
The bed dips as he shifts his positioning, stopping his ministrations for a minute, and when you look down, you notice just how drenched his chin is because of you, and you shyly close your legs.
“Y-you don’t have to contin—
He cuts you off by forcing your legs apart and looking up at you purposely while he settles between your thighs again. 
“Why would you deny yourself something we both know you want?” He challenges, tongue sticking out to ghost over your glistening pussy, and the delicate warmth that the barely-there touch provides is enough to have you whining in need. You push his head back down, hoping he’ll just shut up and go back to town. He does, but not without having the last word. 
“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, words slurred as he tries to talk between sloppy licks. His tongue remains flat as he laps at your pussy to make you fall apart. 
When you seem close, with moans flowing out of you ceaselessly, he sinks into you, tongue massaging your spasming walls as he fucks you with his mouth, and that’s all you need. Your face grows hot, and you start to quiver; your thighs begin to falter, and Hyunjae has to hold them steady with his large hands as your orgasm swallows you whole.
“Oh FUCK.”
You will never be the same. Your body throbs with pleasure, and you shake through the most powerful feeling that you’ve ever encountered in your life. You’re speaking only in incoherent babbles as Hyunjae continues to tongue fuck you until the sensation is far too much for your pussy, and you have to push him away. You look up at him breathlessly, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time as you come down from such an intense finish.
“God bless you, Hyunjae.” You finally say, still twitching from your nerves getting lit on fire.
“I take it I did pretty good, hm?” He points out with the cockiest grin while he wipes his chin, coating the back of his hand in your essence. His eyes drift away from your face to check you out, and his face melts into a genuine smile.
“Your body is perfect to me, by the way. Every single part of it. Every minor detail.” He reassures, voice coated in sincerity as he trails his hand along your thigh, thumb running across a faded scar.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as you turn your face away from him, with a blush peppering your cheeks. “It’s your turn…” You add, letting your legs fall open for him.
“Our turn,” He corrects as he turns your face to look up at him. 
“You ready, Sweetheart?” He asks while he hovers above you, and you can feel how warm and heavy he is against you, prompting you to nod your head yes.
Hyunjae sheathes himself inside you slowly, causing you to groan blissfully as your eyes fall closed. He feels so good. The stretch is just right, and as he buries himself deep inside you, it’s like you’re being split open, but in the best way. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you adjust to his girth and length. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with the sight of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen trying his hardest to hold himself together.
“You okay, Darling?” You ask in a teasing whisper while you take in Hyunjae’s state. He looks tense, his teeth are abusing his bottom lip, and for shits and giggles, you clench around him and he hisses.
“You’re incredibly tight.” He says through gritted teeth before he exhales. He rears back, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you hear him curse under his breath.
“I-it’s like your pussy is choking my cock…” He mumbles before he leans down to kiss your neck and tries to press forward again. You hear him whimper softly, and it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard, and it's all because of you.
“I feel good?”
“You feel so. Fucking. Good.” He praises through a pant. 
His hips start to roll against yours as he finds a steady pace to fuck you with, and soon his bedroom is filled with a mixture of moans and skin slapping against skin. His body weight presses you further into the bedsheets, and you feel like you’re being surrounded by love and warmth as every fantasy that you’ve ever had comes true. 
Hyunjae’s strong body lays flush on top of yours, and his fingers lace through yours while he rocks into you harder with precise movements. His other arm goes under your body to tilt your pelvis upward as he begins hitting you at a new angle that pulls a cry out of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, needing him closer and deeper as you’re fucked into oblivion. Each powerful thrust has you sliding up the sheets, and your pussy clamps down on him whenever his cock drags out of you. You felt stuffed, filled to the brim, and you missed him when he reared back, leaving you nearly empty for half a second at a time.
Praises were mumbled against your skin while he plunged into you. You had the best pussy. You were doing a good job; you’re taking him so well. You felt incredible. Hyunjae’s words sent you to the edge, and all you could do was gasp and moan as you came undone. Your walls flutter and spasm as you arch your back, screaming his name out for the neighborhood to hear.
“J-Jae,” you whimper, lip trembling as Hyunjae molds your body to his fat cock.
“I know, Sweetheart… Relax and enjoy it.” He coos softly, coaching you through your second orgasm.
His hips don’t slacken; they do the opposite, speeding up as he hammers the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly until something inside you snaps. You writhe underneath him, and your fingers tighten around his own as you fall into bliss. Hyunjae’s eyes are glued to your face as your mouth drops open, and a long, drawn-out groan leaves your body.
“That’s right, baby. Keep going.” He says through a grunt as he starts to chase his high.
He shifts, lifting you into his arms while his cock stays buried inside you. You're positioned upright, body going limp against his muscular thighs as he continues to drill into you, massaging your walls at a merciless pace. One large bicep stays wrapped around your waist, and his free hand snakes between you both to rub against your clit as if he could get you to cum a third time. You’re just a brainless lump of whimpers at this point as your head rests against his sweaty chest.
“I’m close, Sweetheart. I know you can do it again, come on, baby.” He pleaded, voice ragged as his thrusts turned desperate. 
His moans get more prominent, and when you look up to meet his gaze, Hyunjae looks fucked out beyond belief, lips parted, and hair a disaster on top of his head. You muster up enough energy to kiss him on the lips, swallowing all his pretty noises and whimpering against his plush lips. You feel his hips stutter. Then heat spreads inside you, and you shake as he fills you with cum while you experience another earth-shattering orgasm.
You're both tired and sticky. The bed sheets are hardly halfway on the bed, twisted onto one side, but neither of you seems to care. You collapse onto the bare mattress with Hyunjae’s cock still hidden inside you. When he finally pulls out, your dripping pussy adds to the mess on his bed. He lays down beside you, immediately pulling you in for a cuddle.
“You’re going to stay here, right?” He asks, looking down at you with a hopeful gleam.
“Of course. Even if I wanted to go home, I couldn’t deal with a walk of shame right now. My legs don’t work. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon when I have to walk the dogs.” You answer through a giggle.
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transparencyboo · 7 months
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Alright kids, today I am once more gonna tell you about a real game for true gamers, so buckle in and get ready for a swimmingly wonderful time. This is Aquanaut's Holiday, a 1995 Playstation game developed by Artdink and directed by Kazutoshi Iida (who would go on to direct Tail of the Sun and Doshin the Giant). It is essentially an underwater exploration simulator, where you control a submarine and venture into the wild marine yonder. This game is so good I bought it twice!
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Savvy game players might look at this premise and assume elaborate systems and mechanics tied to it. What is the mission? What is the goal? What am I supposed to do? How do I score points and earn extra lives? Well, you don't, the game isn't about any of that. In defiance of medium conventions, particularly for the time, Aquanaut's Holiday presents a scaled back game experience with little more features than what's needed to fulfil its noble goal: To be relaxing.
With no further elaboration, we are let loose into the ocean and encouraged to find our own way, discover our own adventure, create our own fun. And this place is massive, you can swim around in the murky haze and just observe the barren sea bottom pass by for minutes on end without seeing much of anything, your long journey only registering as a feeble spagetti string on the blank map. Impatient players, or those simply testing it out for a quick spurt, will likely be discouraged and disregard the game as primitive nonsense of a bygone era. At surface level, there simply does not seem to be much of anything to this one. I've heard people describe Aquanaut's Holiday as "a game where you only swim around and look at fish", not necessarily derogatory, but not in praise either, just a neutral "huh, I guess that's a thing" – the game equivalent to those tacky aquarium VHS tapes.
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I've had a half-distant relationship to this game. I've long understood its philosophical richness purely in relationship to its brethren Tail of the Sun and Doshin the Giant, two of my all-time favorite games, which also appear unassuming and scaled down at face value. Yet, somehow I've never fully sat down with this one to unravel all it has to offer. "Some other time", I told myself. Well, some other time came and went, so now I will tell you what you need to know about Aquanaut's Holiday!
Starting out on my journey of properly playing the game, I actually read the manual for once. Can you believe there's actually little tips and tricks together with crucial information in there? Huh! Turns out reading manuals is a good way of parsing any game made in the last century, highly recommended activity. Always check the manual! Reading this, I learned the peculiarities of the submarine's controls, I learned what all the little cryptic HUD symbols meant, I learned about setting up buoys and building reefs, I learned that the weird effects that appear when pressing the shoulder buttons is for singing to the fish, I even learned that the submarine is called Holiday. In particular, I learned that the game itself acknowledges the individual user experience with the succinct words: "Each player will experience AQUANAUT'S HOLIDAY differently."
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So is that all there is to Aquanaut's Holiday? You float around in bliss and marvel at the ocean life? Well, yes, kinda. You certainly need to vibe with that angle if you're gonna get anything out of the experience, in practice Aquanaut's Holiday will indeed just be about drifting for long periods looking at nothing, helplessly fumbling in its massive barren world. Watching sea mile after sea mile pass by as the vast nothingness makes your mind wanders. But every now and again you wake up from your soft daydreams with a start, staring at some unknown structure that has appeared before you.
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This is where Aquanaut's Holiday shows its true brilliance. Through sheer simplicity it has made you fascinated by the smallest things. Be it the ghastly inexplicable monuments or the sighting of a rare animal, you will feel rewarded for the very discovery itself. There is no logbook, no special cutscenes, no acknowledgment of what you've seen. That is for you to create yourself. I always dispatched a buoy for my own reference and marked it yellow, which in my book meant "notable discovery". These were by far the highlights of the game for me, and motivated me to slowly but surely criss-cross around the ocean, charting more of the map as I narrowed the world down and made the unknown known. Yet so much of the map remained blank, my path never made any great dents into the untraveled waters, there was so much yet to see.
With this established as my main takeaway from the game, you might feel increasingly compelled to give it a go yourself. Heck, you might even want to reach the elusive and mysterious goal. Because despite its simplistic structure, Aquanaut's Holiday indeed has an ending like so many other games. It is nothing special, mostly a pat on the head and the end credits, but it felt special to reach such a surreal point after years of assuming the game had nothing of the sorts. That's why I will now give my quick guide for how to master Aquanaut's Holiday like a real pro gamer, since there is very little information online and no definitive guide. I can't exactly say this is one either, but I think it will provide you with more help than I ever had.
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Starting off, the metric for reaching the goal is the biodiversity of your artificial coral reef. This is a spot of ocean immediately west of your dock where you can place blue, yellow and red blocks to create a habitat for fish and other marine life. The reef builder is accessed by pressing Select twice, which toggles the RETURN prompt, to which you press Start and enter the port menu, where you can pick BUILD REEF. Here you see a simplified grid of your reef garden, a material meter and a fish meter, press X to select a slot and then X, Square or Triangle to pick a color block to place. To fill your fish meter, you need to place more blocks and then literally hang out in the area and watch the fish appear. I've found conflicting takes on how to build reefs for efficient growth, with people stating certain formations like circles and tunnels as better. My takeaway is that it's not about shape, but the sheer amount of blocks. The manual states that different fish are attracted to different colors, so make good use of blue, yellow and red equally. Apart from that, go off and build anything you want!
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However, you will need sufficient building material. Starting out you do not have what you need to build a bustling habitat. That's where exploration comes in. Navigating the ocean fills out grids on the map, this in turn earns you more reef blocks. I don't know what the conversion rate is between uncovered map grids and reef blocks, but you'll need quite a bit, so expect this to be majority of what you do. To make your exploration easier, you will want to set out lots of buoys. This is done by pressing Select once to toggle the BUOY prompt, to which you press Start and dispatch a buoy. This puts a marker on the map which you can conveniently fast travel back to. Since the pause menu always returns you to the port, buoys are crucial for finding your way back to where you were. You can have 256 buoys, so don't be afraid to use them for quick access around the ocean.
In other words: Set out, try to see as much as possible and return to the base to build. That's the essential strategy for reaching the goal. Be ready to do this for hours on end, get acquainted with this world, have fun with it. I listened to several episodes of our friend @hotcyder's excellent podcast Bullet Time while just floating around the ocean uncovering remarkable and unremarkable sights. I had some splendidly relaxing evenings over a week or so. All in all it took me 16 hours, if you're being efficient it'll probably be faster, but maybe if you're even more chill than me you'll take even longer. In my opinion, the longer it takes you to beat Aquanaut's Holiday, the cooler you are!
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Eventually I hit a point of my exploration where the game showed me a funky little cinematic of the entire world map being filled out, presumably as a reward for having uncovered a certain high percentage of it. At this point I knew I was ready for the ending, so I went to the reef builder and started throwing blocks absolutely everywhere until I had run all out. After that I just sat and gazed at my monstrous creation for a few minutes, hopped back into the reef builder and watched the end credits.
The final reward was a funky experimental fish mode where I can travel around the ocean super fast and rotate models of the sea life in front of the screen. A most excellent prize and a dignified conclusion to this masterpiece.
/Kiki
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set-phasers-to-whump · 7 months
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leave (stay)
prompt: "leave me alone"
whumpee: illya kuryakin
fandom: the man from uncle
hello here's another sickfic for my beloved illya :) it's sort of pre ship napoleon/illya sort of not idk. what is romance even. hope you enjoy!!
“Leave me alone,” Illya mumbles into his folded arms, before Napoleon has even said anything, before Illya has even so much as glanced up to discover who is behind him. (From the tone of his voice, it’s abundantly clear he knows it’s Napoleon, anyway).
“Well, good afternoon to you, too, Peril.”
Illya does not move an inch, does not reply. Napoleon does not bother to attempt to fight off the instinct to tease him. 
“Sleeping on the job?” 
It is rather odd to find Illya like this, head pillowed atop his arms and a half-complete mission report in the typewriter. It’s something that Napoleon has done on…say, a few occasions, but Illya? He’s far too much of a rule-follower for something like this. 
“Go away,” is the only response Napoleon gets, and, well, if he insists. 
It’s lunchtime, anyway. Napoleon grabs his jacket and heads out to the street, making his way directly to his favorite sandwich shop a block and a half away. 
He eats at a small table by the window, watching the people on the sidewalk hustle by. The holiday season is fast approaching, and already many of them are carrying large department-store bags, surely laden with gifts. 
He muses, idly, on the topic of holidays and whether UNCLE might host - or be open to hosting, upon his gentle suggestion - a party. He wonders whether Illya would be opposed to receiving a present. Probably. 
He barely makes it back to the office before his allotted lunch time is up. He bumps into Waverly in the hall, who says nothing, merely raises an eyebrow. 
Napoleon flashes him a grin and gets the barest hint of a smile in return. He’ll count that as a strong success. 
He is expecting to return to business as usual in the office, but he discovers that Illya has not moved in the time that he has been gone, or, if he has, he’s come right back to the position Napoleon had left him in. 
He must really be tired, Napoleon thinks. After all, he’s seen Illya take out five men in two minutes after not sleeping for three days. Now, even a simple mission report seems to be too much. 
He stands behind Illya for several seconds, hoping for some acknowledgment of his presence. But nothing happens. 
I’m asking for it, he thinks, but goes ahead and jostles Illya’s shoulder anyway. 
He expects Illya’s head to snap up, perhaps for a punch to be thrown his way, or, at the very least, some strong words. 
Instead, Illya slowly lifts his head and turns around, docile as anything. Weird. 
He blinks at Napoleon, rubs a hand across his eyes. 
“Were you actually asleep?” Napoleon asks, not quite willing to believe it. 
Illya’s face morphs into what could be very charitably deemed a glare. 
“No.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
Illya shrugs. “This is not my problem. Go away.”
Undeterred, Napoleon presses on. “What did you get up to last night, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Sleeping.” Illya looks away from him. He’s angry, which is understandable, but - well, now Napoleon is really curious. And a little worried, not that anyone needs to know. 
“Is something the matter?”
“Yes. You will not leave me alone.”
With this, Illya stands up. He is presumably going to stalk away and slam a door behind him. At least, this is what Napoleon expects.
But this is not what happens. Instead, as soon as Illya’s on his feet, he raises a hand to his head and then sinks right back down into his chair. 
Napoleon is now a lot worried, and no longer in a jovial mood. 
“What’s wrong?”
Illya does not say anything. He’s closed his eyes and he’s breathing very deeply and very deliberately. 
Napoleon has an idea. He takes a step into Illya’s space, reaches out a careful hand. Illya’s forehead and cheeks are hot beneath his palm. Ah. 
“You’re sick,” Napoleon says. 
Illya does not say anything, but Napoleon knows that he’s right. 
“For how long?”
Still nothing. 
“Okay, look. You simply can’t sleep here. It’s far too uncomfortable, and sooner or later, someone a lot less caring than me is going to come by and kick your chair.”
Illya opens his eyes a little. He looks exhausted, now that Napoleon really considers him. And miserable. It makes something in his chest feel as though it is being squeezed.
A solution enters his mind. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing, and he knows Illya will not complain. “Come with me. When you’re feeling up to it.”
He waits for a few seconds before Illya very slowly pushes himself up. Napoleon wordlessly offers his arm, and Illya briefly grips it, closing his eyes. When the dizziness seems to have passed, he lets go and looks at Napoleon. 
“Right. Well. Follow me.”
They go to the break room. It’s a rather forlorn space - the UNCLE agents, by and large, either do not have time to use it or would rather spend their free time anywhere else. The room is dark and has no windows. There is a rather sad bookshelf, a table with two mismatched chairs, and a couch that Napoleon firmly refuses to sit on. 
But it’s a quiet space, and the couch is a better place to sleep than a desk. 
Illya takes it with no protest. He does not bother to undress even slightly, tie and jacket and shoes still on. His eyes slip closed almost immediately, and Napoleon allows himself the simple indulgence of staring at his partner, just for a few seconds. 
“I can feel you looking at me,” Illya mumbles, without opening his eyes.
“Sorry.”
He expects to be kicked out - needs to be, actually, so he can get back to his own work before someone realizes he’s not there. 
“Will you…” Illya mumbles, on the verge of falling asleep. 
“Yes?”
Tell me to leave. Please, ask me to stay. 
He doesn’t get an answer either way. Illya has already fallen asleep. 
He lingers a few seconds more. Wishes for a blanket to drape over Illya’s sleeping form, settles for his own jacket instead. 
He turns off the lights, pulls the door shut behind him. 
“Sleep well,” he whispers into the darkness, and then he gets back to work.
thanks for reading!!! love u all <3
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for fanfic writer asks game
😅🥺🤡✍️🍦🍆❌🧐🏆🎃🎯🎉📚🤯💥
😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists? So in high school and college (like 500 years ago in the 2000s before we knew what a cunt JK Terfling was) I wrote Harry Potter fanfic, and I once wrote a 120k word Remus/Tonks/Sirius threesome story that somehow involved no sex or smut whatsoever...and then only after I finished the damn thing did I remember that Tonks and Sirius are biological cousins. Ooops?
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels? Goodbyes. They make me weep every time.
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? This whole fic, which I wrote stoned for my 1k follower acknowledgement.
✍️ Do you have a beta reader? Just time, dearie. I work alone.
🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far? Probably THIS ONE, a companion oneshot to my mega-series.
🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic? Of course I do! Dechire is my nastiest piece of filth yet, and it's probably my most popular thus far. It's on hiatus, but I am in the process of outlining some future chapters so it can continue by summer.
❌ What's a trope you will never write? Probably Mafia AUs. I enjoy reading them well enough and some writers out there put out some fabulous works around the genre. I myself don't think I could remove my mind that far from canon to write it. Like, for some reason I need to have a rational Point-A-to-Point-B path in my head that makes sense for how the canon characters got "here," and I just can't make those connections between any of the Avengers and the mob.
I also can't do incest or stepcest. It's just a bridge too far, man.
🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories? It depends. I always try to get locations accurate if they're on Earth, so I'll do research on cities, street names, and climates. Once in awhile I'll check and see if a canonical fact about a character is real or just something I recall from another fic (I forgot that Steve canonically doesn't get drunk because of his serum).
🏆 What's your most popular fic? I can't really gauge that, because I'm not a popular writer at all. I'm kind of a pathetic little writer on here. An average fic chapter gets between 30-50 interactions at best, and my oneshots only fare better once in a while. I'd say overall these two are the most popular: THIS ONE got enough love to get a full story, and THIS ONE struck a lot of peoples' fancies recently.
🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic? I do Secret Santas and holiday tradesies. I like THIS ONE, it's very short (one of my shortest) but it's also a simple, sweet favorite.
🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which? One of my readers guessed that the Y/N of Beauty & the Snake Prince would **SPOILERS** fake her death and leave Asgard to wait for Loki to find her **SPOILERS END** about halfway through, after the villain is introduced
🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? Interactions, particularly reblogs. Also, if someone loves my stories enough to drop a message I feel honored. If enough people ask for a oneshot to be continued, I also find that to be an exceptional compliment. Again, I don't think I'd know what it's like to actually be a success yet.
📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career? In an ideal world? Um, fuck yeah.
🤯What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? I still think I kind of suck at smut, even though I'm getting better. I also have a hard time writing horror, because I hate being afraid. I'm a weenie like that.
💥How do you feel about criticism? It has to come from a place of sincerity, but if it does, I happily take and consider critique.
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Care Package
@sicktember 2022 Prompt #16
Fandom/OCs: the Black Tapes Podcast
Title: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Words: 2394
Inspiration: This snippet from @stealthy-sneezing about getting a cold for Christmas. As always, I blame all Dr. Strand fics on @sickromancer for getting me into this fandom in the first place!
Author’s comments: The prompt I struggled with the most ended up becoming one of my favorite fics. Alex and Richard have such a unique dynamic which I find so fun to write, and I love subverting expectations if you haven’t noticed, so the Christmas care package suited me exactly. Plus, I really like the characterization that I somehow captured here. This is one of the ones I most want to write a follow-up to! We may yet see Alex taking care of a sick Richard in fics ahead. 
Alex was never the first one to arrive at Dr. Strand's office, especially first thing in the morning. She wasn't great with Mondays to begin with, and the Monday after a holiday weekend was even worse. She came in at least thirty minutes later than usual, but it seemed most of the Strand Institute employees were of the same mind as her, for she saw almost no one else. The most surprising absence was Richard himself, however. She often teased him that he must sleep at his office for how often he left after her and arrived before her, so she was quite taken aback to find his office dark and cold and empty so late in the morning. 
She immediately turned up the heat, as he would have done, and started a pot of coffee. When Richard still hadn't arrived, she sat down in her usual seat and began to work on a few things, unsure what else to do. She glanced over her shoulder every few minutes, expecting to see him come flying in with a muttered excuse about traffic, but it wasn't until after another thirty minutes had passed that he made his appearance. She heard his shoes squeaking on the linoleum long before she saw him, so she turned in expectation, ready to greet him and give him a hard time about punctuality. 
He did come flying in as expected, but rather than an irritated excuse, the first sound he made was an irritated sneeze.
"Hihh-! KIIHHHPTTtchhooo!" Wet, spraying, and violent, it was a sneeze that was impossible to ignore, and Alex’s eyes widened in spite of herself. She thought he might sneeze more from the way his nose continued to wrinkle, but he suppressed the urge, likely by sheer force of will, and huffed his way to his desk with only a brusque nod in her general direction.
Alex blinked several times. "Bless you. That was… quite the entrance."
"What have I told you about that phrase?" he asked peevishly, setting down his briefcase with a forceful sniffle.
She didn’t have to ask what phrase he meant. "That the societal expectation to bless someone when they sneeze is promoting an outdated concept rife with medical, social, and religious fallacy that would be better left in the medieval era," she rattled off, having heard that particular rant more times than she could count. "But that was an especially violent sneeze, and I felt it needed some sort of acknowledgement." 
That got him to smile a tiny bit, the smirk coming and going so fast that she would have missed it had she blinked. She knew that was the only concession she would get, but she counted it as a win. He settled in at his desk, and it seemed he didn't intend to make any other reply, so she tried again. 
"How was your holiday?" she asked.
"Fine," he grunted. There was a pause, and he seemed to realize he had fallen short of an acceptably polite response. "Yours?"
"It was very nice, thank you." With anyone else, she would've gone on talking about the loved ones, the dinner, the presents, but not with him. She knew idle conversation annoyed him. Also, she had a hunch he'd likely had a lonely holiday, and she wasn’t sure he would want to hear about her very traditional, people-filled holiday celebrations. Still, she couldn’t resist one more question. "Did you get anything for Christmas?"
"Ihhh'TIHSSHH! EHSSHHOO!" The sneezes had clearly snuck up on him, and he wiped his nose in bad humor. "Nothing except a cold. The most wonderful time of the year and all." He blew his nose with annoyed finality, clearly not wanting her to pursue the subject of either the cold or the lack of Christmas presents further. However, pursuing sensitive topics was in Alex's nature as a journalist.
"No presents? I know Melissa got you a tie and matching socks!"
The tiny ghost of a smile again. "I suppose you're right. And the box of chocolates Jamie gave to everyone. But nothing else."
"Except a cold."
"Exactly," he sighed, and she thought she detected a hint of self-pity. "It probably happened when I picked up some groceries on Christmas Eve."
The inherent sadness behind this statement struck her immediately, but he seemed unaware of it. He had already returned to his work, swiping at his nose with a tissue and taking a long pull of tea from his thermos as he perused a handful of documents. Alex shook her head and returned to her laptop, but her attention never strayed far from her office mate. 
The cold he'd caught from some hapless fellow Christmas Eve shopper was clearly a nasty one. His hand couldn't stray far from the box of tissues at his elbow. If he wasn't sniffing he was coughing, and if he wasn't coughing he was sneezing, which led back to either sniffling or coughing, with plenty of nose blowing thrown in for good measure. 
Part of her wondered if he had a fever due to how sick he seemed, but she hoped he would have had the good sense to stay home if he did. Also, she'd seen him when he was running a fever once before, and he had had a distinct appearance of dizziness and lethargy at that time that wasn't present today. She considered asking him to check to be sure, but refrained, mainly due to the fact that she wasn't sure they could even find a thermometer here. 
He pointedly didn't mention the state of his health or make any indication of discomfort aside from the necessary, and she sensed his silent plea for her to ignore it as well. She respected his (unspoken) wishes, at least at first, and went about the morning as normally as possible. However, she continued to bless him whenever he let out a particularly heavy sneeze, more to tease him than anything. He accepted this with long-suffering resignation.
His stoic suffering made her want to "poor thing" him all the more, especially as his nose got more raw and red with every passing hour, and his voice was rougher every time he spoke. An idea began to form in her mind, and she worked to keep from smiling so he wouldn't suspect anything.
Lunchtime rolled around, and she saw he was making no move to leave, which wouldn't do at all. She fidgeted a few times and cleared her throat to get his attention.
"Did you bring anything for lunch?" she asked.
"I have a protein bar," he said distractedly. She couldn't help but notice how tired he was looking now, and how lethargically he was moving.
"Ah. Well if you don't mind my saying so, your body might thank you if you had something a little more… substantial. And warm. There's that great soup and sandwich place down the street."
"I don't need anything. I'm finally making progress here and I don't want to pause," he croaked with a thick sniffle, rubbing an eye. 
"Yikes, your voice is definitely going, isn't it? Good thing we're not recording the podcast today. The listeners wouldn't understand a word you're saying." She crossed her fingers under the desk, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff.
It seemed to work, though. He glanced up, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Is it really that bad?"
"I mean… It's definitely not great. You sound very contagious." 
His frown deepened, and his hand went unconsciously to his (almost certainly sore) throat. 
Alex, knowing how sensitive he was about his voice, saw her opening and went in for the close. "Oh, and you're shivering too! You know what, I'm going to get you some soup, regardless of what you say. You need something more than a protein bar."
"No, no, don’t bother. I'll go," he grunted, never one to let anyone do anything for him. He slowly stood and shrugged into his coat, shaking his head as if to clear some dizziness even as he cleared his throat. "Did you want anything?"
"Oh yes! Could you please get me one of their pasta bowls?" She quickly rattled off her order and handed over some cash, then shooed him out the door. Once he was gone, she pulled on her own coat and ran out the door. She had a supply run to make, and she needed to make it back before he did.
~~~
When Dr. Strand returned with their lunch, Alex was sitting where he'd left her, looking busy. However, there was a very conspicuous red-and-green-wrapped package on his desk. He made a face when he saw it, looking accusingly at Alex.
"What's this?" he sniffled, his nose wet with moisture from the chilly outside air. 
"A Christmas present, I assume," she said innocently. 
"From whom?"
"Is there a name on the tag or a card?"
He looked. "No."
"Then I can't tell you. Guess you'll just have to open it."
Richard rolled his eyes. "I don't need Christmas presents. I don't celebrate Christmas."
"Looks like you got one anyway. Just open it."
With a sigh he set down the takeout containers, slipped off his coat, and began to unwrap the present. He pulled out a new mug, his favorite tea bags, a soft scarf, a new book, two kinds of cold medicine, premium tissues, and a thermometer. There was a smile around his eyes, but he tried to look stern as he turned back to her. "This wasn't necessary."
"I have no idea what you mean. Someone else must've heard you sneezing all day and left that for you." She couldn't keep her lips from twitching up into a smile of her own to betray her, however.
"Someone else who knows the next book I planned to buy and that one of my favorite mugs was broken the other day?" he said wryly, wrinkling his nose and sniffling as if the mention of sneezing made him want to start up again. 
She shrugged with another little smile, giving up the ruse. "Well you insisted I not get you anything for Christmas, and I knew you'd complain about getting any kind of care package. So I thought if I gave you a care package for Christmas, the two would cancel out."
He shook his head. "That logic is very flawed. But now that it's happened, I suppose I can't tell you to take it back."
"Nope, you can't. I threw away the receipt so you couldn't even if you wanted to," she said cheerfully. "So please start using some of these things immediately. I wish you would take the rest of the day off so you could use them all, but I imagine you won't. However, my one request is that you please take your temperature now. From the way your eyes look, I think you're starting a fever."
"I think it's more than starting," he said quietly. "But what happens if I am?"
"Then I'll definitely suggest you go home. And keep suggesting it for the rest of the day."
"Then perhaps I should save the trouble for both of us and go home now."
"That might be best," she agreed. She was surprised by a pang of regret as she spoke those words. She hadn't expected him to give in so willingly, and had rather been enjoying the prospect of being able to do some nagging and some "momming". A part of her was sad this didn't seem to be required. 
"I might just do that. I'm really not feeling weh– well… Hh'RRSSH!" The stifled sneeze served only to prove his point, and make Alex more concerned. He cut his eyes back to her as he tended to his nose. "Would you still like me to take my temperature before I go?" he rasped. 
"Yes please,” she said quickly. “So I know you're okay to drive. And so I know how much I need to worry about you. You’ll say I don't need to worry at all–"
"You don't."
"But I'm going to be concerned regardless, so I'd like to know to what degree."
He didn't reply, but unwrapped the thermometer and placed it under his tongue without further comment. When it beeped, he pulled it out of his mouth and examined the reading expressionlessly. 
"101.4," he grunted.
"That's pretty high for just a cold. Is that normal for you?"
"Unfortunately," he said. "I rarely get sick without also getting a fever."
"Then I'm glad you're going home. Hopefully if you rest it'll be over that much sooner. Do you want me to drive you?"
"No. I'm fine. As I said, I'm very used to this. Fevers don't bother me." 
"Aside from making you exhausted and dizzy."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "Why do you say that?"
"I can see it in your eyes and the way you move."
He gave a small huff of laughter. "Is that so?"
"Never doubt a journalist's perception."
He only shook his head, deigning not to reply once again. However, to her surprise he began to pack up. It seemed he actually intended to leave. 
"He really must be feeling poorly," she thought to herself. She packed all of his new items back into the Christmas box as he shrugged back into his coat. She handed him the box and his takeout soup once his gloves were on. 
"Thank you for picking up lunch. But I'm glad you'll be able to enjoy yours at home. Take care of yourself. I hope you feel better soon."
"Will do." With his signature brusque nod, he was gone. 
He hadn't thanked her for the care package, but she wasn't offended. She hadn't really expected him to. She was almost certain he was going to make use of it, though, and that was enough for her. Anything to encourage him to take care of himself. 
After eating her pasta, she too packed up and left, as there wasn't much work for her to do without him.  She had already planned the text in her mind that she would send to him soon to make sure he was getting the rest and fluids he needed, and was taking a proper Christmas sick day. The holidays only come once a year, after all. If he had to be sick, he might as well make the most of it.
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jjorbles · 1 year
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My Favorite Movies & Shows of 2022
There were only really 8 movies that I saw and really loved that came out this year, so here they are in mostly no particular order.
Movies:
Glass Onion
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This is the only entry I've actually rewatched so far. Rian Johnson's movies always reward repeat viewings, especially the Knives Out series. I love the characters and how much fun everyone seems to be having playing them. I hope Rian Johnson & Daniel Craig keep making these forever, and I hope this finally gets Janelle Monáe the recognition she deserves and we get many more lead roles in amazing movies from her.
Nope
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This one has haunted me since I saw it. Jordan Peele's movies always give me a lot to think about, but something about this one cut deep into my core. It created the perfect monster to manifest all my fears, anxieties, and trauma about performing, existing as a spectacle, and the dehumanizing feeling of laying your soul bare to an audience, and the devil's bargain that that is. It's also the most invested I've ever been in the characters of a Jordan Peele movie, as the protagonists of his previous movies felt a little more like vehicles for the themes of the story than real people. I got really attached to OJ & Em, which made the horror much more effective. I wish I could've seen this in IMAX, even though I'm not sure I could've even handled that.
Everything, Everywhere, All at Once
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This movie is exactly what the title says, such a bizarre mishmash of tones and ideas that somehow comes together as a beautifully simple story of family. It grounds itself in honest optimism without it feeling forced. In times that feel so willfully overwhelming that they drive us towards nihilism, the unwavering optimism at the core of this movie was exactly what I needed.
Turning Red
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I've always loved monsters as metaphors for the uncomfortable aspects of the human experience. Monsters as puberty metaphors have been done before, but usually only for boys, at least in media aimed at younger audiences. Female-coded versions are usually the exclusive domain of R-rated horror. A movie like this that uses the creative framework of a family of were-pandas to talk frankly about the coming of age of teen girls is long overdue, and this knocks it out of the park.
Violent Night
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I was not expecting this to be as good as it was. We've had killer Santa's before, but never one that quite balanced the ironically violent premise with a genuinely sweet family Christmas story. David Harbour is perfect as a cynical, world-weary Santa who still has a heart of gold and just needs to be reminded of the spirit of the holidays...while also brutally murdering armed burglars like a Christmas themed Jason Voorhees. The conflicting tones shouldn't work as well as they do, but I enjoyed this thoroughly and will definitely be making it a yearly tradition.
Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio
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Pinocchio's always been a story about the temptations of boyhood but trust GDT to take that to dark places nobody's ever dared before. It's not just the usual moralizing about "stay in school" & "don't trust strangers". This goes hard into "beware of fascists" and "the church is using you". Pulls absolutely no punches and the animation and design works are hauntingly gorgeous. Easily my favorite Pinocchio ever.
Men
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This one I haven't seen talked about much especially compared to the director's previous movies, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since it came out. An uncomfortable, tortuously brutal movie that manages to be about the self-inflicted hell of toxic masculinity without over-empathizing, acknowledging men's pain without ever shaming the female lead for not coddling them. The final few minutes are mind-blowing with a killer cut to the end credits that still sticks with me.
Prey
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It took way too long to make good use of the Predator formula. They should've tried something like this years ago. Just pick any point in history, any group of people with survival skills, and sic a Predator on them. It's overdue, but well worth that wait. It's also refreshing to have a movie about Native Americans that doesn't feel the need to insert a token white guy as a crutch.
Movies that I meant to see but I haven't yet: X, Pearl, The Northman, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, Wendell & Wild
If you don't see your favorites, either I didn't like it that much or I wasn't interested. 🤷
Shows:
Andor
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It feel SO GOOD to finally be excited by Star Wars again. I thought my enthusiasm for anything outside of the occasional comic or novel had died after the backlash to TLJ (The best Star War ever, don't @ me) resulted in the two-hour backtracking apology to the most toxic parts of the fandom that was TROS, that any will to be creative or take risks had been banned from Lucasfilm. I liked most of the streaming shows fine, but they were the definition of safe bets. Then Andor comes outta nowhere and just blows away all my expectations. It gave us a genuinely great story in the original spirit of Lucas's anti-fascist space opera that relies on character development instead of nostalgia. The only show I immediately rewatched when it was done.
Peacemaker
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In the middle of rewatching this one now. Wouldn't have been my first pick for a spinoff, much like Andor, but The Suicide Squad is probably my favorite superhero team movie ever, so I was down for wherever James Gunn wanted to go with it next. A character-driven, heartfelt satire of superheroes, masculinity, and American exceptionalism, that still had heart and made the characters feel real and human.
The Sandman
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Neil Gaiman's Sandman was one of the comics thought unfilmable, so that it turned out as good as it did is a miracle. The cast was pretty much perfect, everything they changed made sense, and I can't wait for season 2.
Atlanta
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I'm gonna miss this show. Often surreal and always thought provoking, Atlanta is like the stoner version of Jordan Peele's Twilight Zone. I love how unafraid it is to completely break formula and give the main cast a week off to, say, do a faux documentary about an imagined black Disney CEO and his vision for the Goofy Movie. They honestly could have kept it going forever as just an anthology show.
She-Hulk
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Fuck the haters, this shit was perfect. Basically the best Marvel streaming show since WandaVision. I've been waiting for Tatiana Maslany's next role since Orphan Black. The 4th wall humor was 🔥, especially in the finale.
Harley Quinn
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I did not think they could keep up the momentum after paying off Harlivy, but the latest season proved me wrong. This show continues to be the DC universe equivalent to Venture Bros. Some of the best Batman satire not to involve Legos.
So there's some random thoughts on my favorites of 2022. I've been out of practice writing, so figured this was a good a place as any to put my New Years resolution to write more into practice. You might have noticed no superhero movies made my list. I am a huge nerd, so I did see all of them, I just wasn't too blown away by any of them. A lot of good, not much great IMHO. I'll rank and give some thoughts of them in another entry maybe.
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The First of Many Red Flags...
was the first Valentines day we ‘spent’ together. 850 miles away and all I really wanted was to connect. We couldn’t do something normal couples do, so I thought at the very least I could do something cute i’ve seen other long distance couples do. I got a big white USPS box and I went shopping and I packed it with goodies. It was a care package of sorts - snacks, candy, a cute lion stuffed animal holding a big red heart that said “Be Mine.” A short love note about how glad I was that we had met each other. I even got these adorable foam heart stickers and put them on the outside of the box. 
I sent it out and patiently waited for it to arrive, scheduling it to arrive on Valentines Day itself. I remember being so excited for him to receive it. I had chosen all the items carefully to be things I knew he enjoyed. I love sentimental shit, even if it’s as simple as remembering someones favorite candy bar.
He went radio silent for hours. Then hours turned into a few days. I had absolutely no idea what I had done. I was legit devastated, and back then I had serious self esteem issues so I beat myself up for somehow causing my then long-distance boyfriend to ghost me, for sending him a box of snacks. I remember sitting there picking apart everything I put in the box. Everything I had said for days - in the letter I put in the box, in our text communications. The way I was so fast to blame myself was something I wouldn’t outgrow for another 4 years of my life. 
When he finally came back and decided to acknowledge me - I learned that gifts are off limits. I learned that it makes him far too uncomfortable to give OR receive any type of gift, to or from anyone, for me to ever do something like that again. Furthermore, there would never be gifts exchanged between us for birthdays, or holidays. Because the simple act of receiving that box of food with a love note fucked him up inside so badly that he spent several days in a type of episode. This was far before I learned that celebrating holidays at all was going to be off the table. Back then I remember thinking that gifts aren’t really that big of a deal, that there might be a form of compromise even. 
In the beginning, there was talk of compromise that in the place of gifts we would have experiences together - go to nice restaurants, places we haven’t been. That never really happened either. 7 years passed and no earnest acknowledgement of my birthday, our anniversary, Christmas, valentines day. I thought gifts weren’t a big deal. But then there wasn’t anything else, in their place, either. I would try, do all the planning. Everything, because he said he couldn’t handle being expected to plan things either. It either came down to my plans not being good enough, or he would suddenly have a collapsing mental health day that day - or, more commonly, a few days out he would tell me it was too much pressure to go to dinner. That actually all week he’s been anxious and secretly hating that he has to go with me at all. But instead of apologizing, he would begin the blaming. Nevermind that we agreed to this situation amicably a week ago, it was now my fault that he was anxious and that I really shouldn’t ask him to go out on that short of notice (one week) (he is, and was, unemployed. We are living together. On top of planning, I was straight up paying.) 
I am growing tired of doing everything for myself. Buying my own flowers, my own gifts, for myself, with my own money, to feel something that is missing. There is so much missing. I have hidden everything. I just want to start telling the truth because there needs to be record of what this person has, and is, putting me through, the mental health crisis they’ve been having for the last several years and refusing treatment and therapy and how it has deeply impacted my physical and mental health. This might not constitute abuse to most, but there will be stories told here that will be of no question to most. The story of that first Valentines Day is just a day I wish I could go back to, and walk away from this person. Because in my empathy I saw someone with severe anxiety that he would for sure be getting help for. But over time, that has turned out to be a person who will actually blame any outside source they can possible find, from people to silverware to the way the wind blows - for his inability to keep it together. That’s when things turn abusive. There’s no personal responsibility for the fact that his anxiety is so overwhelming that leaving the house to go to dinner with his girlfriend is too much. That even getting a job is too much. Going to the grocery store is too much. Instead of: my anxiety is preventing me from doing something I want to do and I need to find ways to stop the anxiety because it’s destroying my life; deeply damaging my relationship -- his way of thinking is such that the anxiety isn’t actually the problem, it’s that someone (me) has done something (there will be big and tinys somethings) to directly cause the anxiety and that cause must be entirely eliminated instead. Instead of managing the anxiety, he instead tries to manage everything outside of it and control everyone and everything ELSE, instead of his own mental health disorder. Over these last 7 years, I have simultaneously been one of the only people he has let into his life, while also being his biggest target. A cycle of love bombing, emotional and verbal abuse that I have kept secret from family, friends, and coworkers. I am preparing, trying to get myself strong enough to leave. I have a fuck ton of records - years and years of conversations but I really need to start telling the stories. 
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adorerdraco · 3 years
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Bugs and Hisses ✧ Draco x Reader
Summary: Halloween with Draco <3 Friends into BOO’s (teehee)
Warnings: mild drinking nothing tooo crazy but not encouraging it !
Words: 5.2K
A/N: this is my first one shot in like a month and i ofc had to do something for halloween even tho im a tad late but its still a halloweekend KIND OF !!!!!!! </3 I HOPE ITS GOOOD
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“No, it’s a stupid holiday.”
Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn child-like way, a scowl on his face as he stared forward towards the front of the class where Snape was giving a lecture on the small but vicious Erkling creatures.
“Come on, please,” you pleaded quietly. Your gaze kept flickering between your easily-irked professor and the pouting blond beside you, hoping that in a few short seconds you would get the answer you were hoping for that way you could get back into your notes instead of possibly getting a detention or losing house points.
In all the years you’ve been friends with the Prince of Slytherin, you learned that he loathed the holiday and any festivities that came with it. Every year, you beg him to go out to one of the many parties that are thrown ranging from small gatherings to full-on blowouts or just do something halloween related with you, but he always refuses. His reasoning, as he put it, was that he was simply ‘too mature to be dressing up as a foul creature.’
You knew he mostly spent the holiday either asleep in his dorm or walking around aimlessly with Crabbe and Goyle to target unsuspecting first-years after the big feast but this year, you finally had enough of his anti-halloween agenda. You wanted to spend the evening and hopefully night with him laughing by your side and showing him how fun everything could be, but most of all - you wanted to see him in a costume.
“Please, if you go I will never ask you for anything ever again,” you tried again once Snape had turned his back to the class. 
Draco pursed his lips as though he was genuinely considering it, his eyes still locked on the back of the greasy-haired professor before he turned slightly to you with a deep sigh. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be an annual thing.”
You gave him a bright smile, holding yourself back from jumping around in your seat and completely pushing aside the desire to throw your arms around him in excitement.
“I promise you’ll have fun.”
He hid the small smile that grew on his face from seeing how happy his answer made you, turning his head down towards his parchment filled with notes that all of a sudden seemed interesting as he avoided your gaze. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was the smallest bit of excited at the thought of spending the holiday with you because he knew that wherever you went or whatever you did, he would be perfectly content with you by his side because for the first time in all your years as friends; he realized only a month ago that the weird fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was around you or the weird overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his entire body like an ocean of water breaking through a dam - was a crush. He hated it at first, noticing and begrudgingly acknowledging it. He thought it was cliche that he somehow fell for one of his closest friends and mostly, he thought that he was going to ruin the friendship entirely. He wanted to wreck it himself, trying to distance himself from you and being extra mean - but he couldn’t.
He adored your company too much and everything that came with you. He adores your laugh, your smile, your hugs when you greet him and how you somehow give him one each time he needs it the most. He adores the study-buddy system you guys have almost every other week before a quiz or an exam. He adores your bad jokes and clumsy accidents even though those qualities annoy him with anyone else. He adores the way you want him to join you in everything fun you and he especially adores the times when he overhears you talking about him as if he’s your favorite person in the world.
Bottom line, he’s all about you.
So when this season of spookiness came, he was expecting your pleading for him to spend the day with you. Only this time, it only took you a couple times before he ultimately agreed to give in to you.
You were ready to explode with thrill at the thought of what the night held in store for you and you didn’t hide it one bit. When the big Hogwarts Hallowe’en feast was over and every one began spilling out from the Great Hall and into the main foyer, you were searching restlessly for a clean mop of silver hair that almost always stuck out in the mass of students. You weren’t sure if you were able to spot him anywhere in under a few seconds because he was unimaginably important to you, or because his hair was so uniquely bright, or maybe it was how boisterous and loud Crabbe and Goyle always were when they were by him, especially if he was with other Slytherins - but you found him, every single time with ease.
After standing on your tippy-toes several times to overlook the stampede of everyone, you finally spotted Draco leaning across a pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he stood in a circle of his House friends that included his two goons and his quidditch teammates. You watched him thoughtfully as you approached, taking slow steps towards the group to admire him from afar and also because they were all slightly intimidating. He looked lost in the conversation, laughs escaping from his upturned lips as he listened to whatever was being said, large pale hands running through his hair every so often when the front pieces of his hair would flop down to his forehead. 
He looked ridiculously good and effortlessly at that.
You weren’t sure if you should interrupt, hesitating a few feet away from them to where they couldn’t sense your presence but you were close enough to see and hear them clearly.
“We’ll see you later tonight then, Malfoy?” One of the boys nodded towards Draco.
“I’ll show up for a bit, I suppose,” he shrugs.
You see him look around the circle of boys, eyes landing on you momentarily and then back to his friends before doing a double-take towards you again in surprise. You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when his smile widens slightly into a short-lived toothy grin while he said a quick goodbye to his friends causing them all to disband and him to start approaching you.
“Are you ready for the halloween of a lifetime?” You ask as he neared.
He rolled his eyes, laughing faintly. “Where am I meeting you, darling?”
The nick name he used so rarely for you made your knees feel weak, a warm blush rushing up your neck and inching onto your cheeks that you knew was going to be very apparent on your face in a few seconds.
“I’ll meet you right here in an hour,” you say quickly.
You didn’t give him time to answer before you turned quickly in the direction of your common room and began rushing away before he could see the effect he had on you that was so clearly appearing on your face.
You didn’t know what the night held for you and Draco or where it would lead you. Unknowing to you, you were both hoping something more could come out of the evening between the two of you. But he wasn’t one to express himself in that department of feelings and you weren’t feeling bold enough to say anything about yours. It was a gray area of hoping that fate could somehow intervene and throw the two of you into what you both wanted without either of you really saying anything - but it was impossible. There was no outcome or situation you had in mind that could lead you into that, so you were stuck desperately hoping that one day things might end up differently.
It was beginning to feel ironic how in your world full of real tangible magic, there wasn’t a magical solution to your problem. You were trapped feeling like a muggle who had to figure things out by themselves, no magic included. The thought of giving him a love potion did cross your mind as a joke, but it wasn’t a genuine or fair option but little did you know, you don’t need a potion for him to feel the same way - because he already did.
Walking into your dorm felt like an exuberant disaster of everyone running around and sitting in front of mirrors with their makeup or dressing into their costumes. It was noisy and filled with chatter and you were in shock from how much clutter everyone was able to make in such a short period of time from when the feast ended to now. A simple spell would clean everything up so you and everybody else didn’t really pay it any mind. 
You maneuvered around the mess of your housemates and towards your bed where your costume was kept in the trunk underneath it, plopping down onto the floor to pull it from the underskirt of your House colored bedding.
“Did he finally say yes?” Your closest roomie friend jumped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands as she watched you dig through your bottomless trunk. 
“Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, hiding the smile on your face. 
She drawled out a teasing ‘ooh,’ poking your arm lightly with her index finger as you shied away and leaned deeper into your trunk. She was the only one who you willingly admitted your crush to as she was the only person you really trusted to not blather it off to someone.
“Will I be seeing you two in the Slytherin common room?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The boys are throwing a party and I luckily got an invite, you know how they are. So picky with who shows up.”
“You mean they’re pretentious?” You laugh. “But I don’t know if we’ll be going to it. I know Draco obviously got invited but I was thinking we could do other things.”
“Like what?” She questions as if she knew it was going to be something dirty. “I know a few secret spots around the castle-”
“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” you smack her arm lightly. “I honestly have no clue what to do. I didn’t think he’d actually agree because he never does.”
She runs her hands over her face, stifling her laughs of disbelief before she sighed loudly. “I still suggest some broom closets, hidden out of sight.”
You sit up, pushing her from where she was lying while she laughed amusingly at your false horrified reaction that you put on to hide the fact from her that what she was suggestion really was what you wanted. 
“I’ll leave you alone so you can get your costume on,” she smiles, jumping up from your bed and tossing one of your pillows at you as she walked away. You let out a huff, tossing it back onto your duvet before setting your costume down on the spot your friend was lying in.
You stared at it hesitantly, all of a sudden feeling nauseous at the thought of going out later with Draco as if it was some sort of date even though you knew it wasn’t. It was just two friends, hanging out, doing some spooky and fun Halloween activities together and nothing more; so why were you feeling so nervous? You weren’t sure if it was your instincts warning you of something major that was approaching or the fear that what you didn’t have planned was going to bite you in the arse when you continuously told Draco he was going to enjoy himself when you didn’t even know if that was going to be true. You didn’t want to disappoint him and mess it up for you in the future when the holiday came again and you didn’t want this to be the first and last time you experienced it with him. 
The pressure was raining down on you like thick, hard pieces of hail with no end in sight.
As you were getting dressed and doing your makeup for your costume as you liked, (i’m trying to be vague for your own imagination teehee) all you could think about was what in the hell you were going to do once you met up with the Prince of Slytherin. Your train of thought was then derailed into wondering what he was going to be dressed up as or if he was going to be dressed up at all considering the way he is. He was the type to make fun of people who dressed up, that you knew when you ran into him last year as you were walking back to your common room with your friend, both of you in costume and victims of his gentle bullying. He obviously went easier on the two of you since you were there, telling you he was just messing around afterwards and saying he liked yours but once you were out of his sight but still in ear-shot, you heard him and his two minions berating a small group of people that unfortunately passed by them. 
You gave yourself one last look in the floor mirror, letting out a long shaky exhale with your hands clasped together before you started towards the way out of your dorm, through the common room, and ultimately towards the foyer outside the Great Hall where Draco was most likely waiting for you. An hour had gone by since you last saw him, an hour of stress and panic that hadn’t slowed down or stopped.
Your shoes dragged against the stone floors, hugging yourself tightly as you walked nearer towards the spot where you were supposed to meet and as you lifted your gaze - you saw him there, staring right at you with a small grin and just like you expected, no costume.
“Nice costume,” he compliments when you reach him. 
“Where’s yours?” You frown.
“I’m not dressing up. That’s embarrassing,” he shakes his head. 
You scoff, crossing your arms. “You’re the only one not dressed up, that’s embarrassing.”
You don’t know why it was irritating to you that he wasn’t in costume, even if you knew he wasn’t. You figured it was because you were trying to overpower your nervousness with different more consuming feelings, and much to your and Draco’s dismay, it worked. 
You weren’t nervous anymore, just irked.
“I’m staying like this, take it or leave it.”
You rolled your eyes, staring him down and hoping that he would change his mind but he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously stubborn.
In the heat of the moment of a fleeting thought, you decided that if he wasn’t going to be in costume, you would put him in one or at least a hint of one. You pulled your wand out, pointing it onto his striking white hair and with one easy spell, his hair was now a flaming vibrant red.
“Y/N!” He growled, running towards the closest thing that would show off his reflection where he let out a string of frantic curse words. “I look like a bloody Weasley.”
Your laughter caught him off guard, the sound ringing in his ears like music that spread warmth throughout him. You were clutching at your stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other, giggling wildly at the sight of him with hair that did not suit him at all. He smiled to himself, your glee rubbing off on him abruptly that ate away quickly at his anger.
“You should’ve given me some ratty old hand-me-down robes and I’d look just like Ron,” he notes.
“That’s rude, Draco,” you say still laughing. He smirks, leaving the shiny statue of a knight in armor where he was checking his reflection and back over to you where you were still stuck in between doubling over in laughter and watching him. 
“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he muses. He begins digging into the pocket of his dress pants, taking your vulnerability as a chance for him to tap his wand to the top of your head and before you could react, your whole hair had turned a deep green.
Your laughter immediately ended as you ran towards the suit of armor, your grimacing reflection staring back at you with deep Slytherin green hair and a distorted Draco behind you doubling over just like you were moments ago.
“This looks,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, the scowl on your face saying enough for you as you turned bitterly towards Draco. 
“Great?” He suggested, his guffawing subsiding into airy chuckles as you stood in front of him. Yours picked up again as you stared up at him, his striking bright red hair looking terribly unfamiliar on him. He was looking down at you, his heart jumping at the sight of you holding back your laughter. “You really do look dashing by the way.”
You swallowed thickly, thankful for the darkness that had settled around the castle and easily hid the scarlet brush appearing on your face. “But my hair is green.”
“Green is my favorite color.”
You opened your mouth to speak, your stomach and heart dropping simultaneously as your mind went completely blank. You pretended to not notice how he took a step closer to you to where he was almost fully against you and he pretended not to notice the way your lips were parted and how your chest was rising and falling a little too heavily as if you were nervous. It was game over for you when his gaze flickered down towards your lips and then back to your eyes, his head leaning down just the slightest like if he were waiting for you to meet him halfway. You were about to get closer to him, about to let your eyes close and give in to what you believed was him wanting to kiss you - but the world had other plans.
“Malfoy! There you are!” Someone boomed, clambering up the steps from the direction of the dungeons. You both jumped away from each other, your attention diverted to the Slytherin boy that interrupted the moment. “Malfoy come on, the party! And you can bring her too.”
You frowned when the boy came up to the two of you, clearly tipsy, dressed as a stereotypical vampire, and over-excited with the fact that Draco was out and willing to participate in Halloween festivities. It seemed like it bothered the now red-head when he looked to you and then back to the Slytherin boy with an apprehensive expression.
The boy, sensing the pause in the air, grabbed onto both you and Draco’s arms and started dragging the two of you towards the Slytherin common room where although the stone walls were thick, the sound of people celebrating inside were easily slipping past the stone slabs. He spoke the password out quickly and as soon as the entrance was open, you were both shoved inside into what looked like the largest party you had ever witnessed in all your years at Hogwarts. It was packed and filled with what looked like half of the school, or at least a huge majority of fifth-years and up. It was loud with music booming from a brand new wizarding-world radio in the middle of the room currently playing a song from the Weird Sisters. It smelled like a mixture of everyone’s perfumes and colognes and like firewhisky. The boy that pushed you two inside quickly passed you two cups of the very potent firewhisky before downing the third one he had in his hand and disappeared into the crowd while screaming for you to enjoy yourselves.
You both stood awkwardly away from the big and rowdy crowd, your drink clenched tightly in your hand against your chest and Draco swishing his around while it was still in the cup.
He wanted to up and run, thinking that someone was going to make a comment about his hair or about him being there, but no one seemed to pay attention to him or that he was there and in a way, he felt relieved by it and less tense by the second. 
“How in the bloody hell did we end up here?” You yelled over the music, putting a hand over his arm that was holding his drink up. You didn’t mean to, but you were glad you did because he glanced down at the contact with a small smile before looking back up to you.
“We got dragged here, remember!” He yelled back. 
“What?” 
“We got dragged here!”
“I can’t hear you!”
He rolled his eyes, bending down towards your ear to repeat himself one last time before you finally heard him over the mayhem around you.
“This is crazy!” You looked around the room, the sight of all the bodies and recklessness being too much as they were all more than likely drunk and oblivious to how stuffy and suffocating the room was becoming.
You looked down at the golden brown liquid sloshing around in your cup, wondering whether or not you should take it, but with the nervousness you felt coming back, it didn’t take you much longer to decide to down your cup and allow the liquid courage to seep into your veins. Draco watched you with amusement, chuckling to himself when you scrunched up your face in disgust from the burn he knew it caused as it went down your throat. He shook his head, deciding to drink his too and it was only minutes that passed before the drink was quickly becoming apparent in your systems. There was something about Firewhisky that always made its mark promptly and it really was courage in a bottle that you were glad was available to you in that moment because you were sure that in just a few minutes you were close to fainting.
You were beginning to sway faintly to the music, the rhythm sounding more loud but distant and more invigorating. You didn’t care anymore if anyone was watching or that Draco was observing you curiously just as he was beginning to lose all sense of holding himself back. He was inching closer to you, his head moving slightly to beat of the song and pure joy etched onto his features when your eyes met his.
“I keep forgetting I turned your hair red!” You yelled up to him, laughing loudly when he ran his hand through it. In your moment of confidence, you reached up and lightly ran your fingers over one of the front pieces hanging over his forehead. He didn’t stop you, his heart hammering against his chest from the drink and his overwhelming crush that was clouding all his senses. “Your hair is so soft!” 
He wanted to pin you up against the wall right then and there. You were peering up at him, just as you were before you were dragged inside by one of his Housemates and as soon as he was about to kiss you. 
“Do you want to get out of here?” He knew to bend down this time for you to hear him to which you responded with a fervent nod. You took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the exit of the common room and he let you lead him into the coldness of the dungeons that bit at his cheeks. It was a stark difference from the warmth inside, the crisp October air being more chilled than what either of you were expecting. It felt nice against your flushed skin and easier to breathe, especially once after the common room closed again and you could hear was muffled talking and music.
Neither of you were drunk and were still aware of pretty much everything, mostly the feelings stirring inside you both that was begging either of you to make a move towards the other. You were just a tad tipsy, and so was he, but it was enough for you to still enjoy the night without the initial awkwardness that oddly settled in between you. It was weird, considering how open and talkative you usually were with each other but there was something about the evening that made it feel like if you didn’t know each other.
“What now?” He asked you with a raised brow, his hand slipping into his pocket.
You smiled, an idea coming to your head that you knew he would love and you didn’t mind doing in the name of Halloween. “Do you want to go mess with people?”
He stared at you with widened eyes, “bloody hell, I love you.”
There was nothing that could have prepared you for his response, your own eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, Merlin, he felt so stupid. He was mentally smacking himself in the head, desperately wishing he could bury himself seven feet under the Earth and staying there until the end of time.
He was about to play off what he said in a joking way, but for the second time that night he was interrupted by a couple that stumbled out of the common room drunkenly snogging each other’s faces off and wholly oblivious to you and Draco standing there in lingering panic. You jumped back into his arms when the couple staggered past you, almost knocking you over in the process of their makeout session and it annoyed you beyond belief. It annoyed you that they were in your way, annoyed that they interrupted you, annoyed that it wasn’t you in their position with the one you wanted. 
You dug your wand out of your pocket, flicking it their way as they rolled onto the wall, still in each other’s hold until the hex that flew from your wand hit the boy causing him to stagger back from the girl and holding his nose in pain. You heard Draco laugh from behind you when bats began to fly out from the boy’s nostrils while the girl screamed and ran away from one of the bats that swept down onto her head. The bats flew out of the dungeon and up the stairs with the boy struggling loudly the whole way up until his panicked screams were no longer heard.
“That was a perfect bat-bogey,” he looks at you proudly. “I feel bad for that poor bloke’s nose.”
“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed jokingly. 
When the sound of the door opened again, you both ran to hide behind a long drape against the wall that didn’t hide your shoes very well and pressed up against your bodies that’s shapes were no doubt visible from the opposite side.
You heard footsteps trail haphazardly down the corridor, their back seemingly facing you and as you both peeked your heads out from behind the drape, Draco nodded towards the boy and pointed his wand towards him. 
“Slugulus Eructo,” you heard him whisper and a stream of green light from his wand hit the back of the boy’s head and as he turned around in surprise while doubling over in pain, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth as slugs began to slip past the spaces between his fingers. When he stood up to run away, you noticed it was the same boy from earlier that stopped you two from the almost kiss and dragged you to the party. You let out a string of giggles as he ran away just like your last victims.
“This is so mean,” you chortle, leaning into him from behind the drape in an attempt to get closer to him. You were feeling bolder when he beamed down at you, feeling happy knowing that although the night was still young, he was having fun. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I know you don’t like Halloween.” You say quietly.
“You finally convinced me, it’s not that bad,” he grins.
“Why’d you hate it in the first place?”
The question seemed to strike a nerve but the Firewhisky still flowing freely in his veins tore away easily at his defenses so instead of avoiding your question entirely like he usually would, he frowned and let his guard down.
“I don’t hate it,” he answers apprehensively. “My father never let me celebrate it. He never let me dress up. He told me respectable wizards don’t partake in holidays like these.”
His pout made your gut twist in sympathy, your hand instinctively going into his as you squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s never too late to start celebrating. Besides, I don’t see him here stopping you.”
He smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stained-red hair falling over his eyes as he looked down to his shoes.
“You have a point, darling.”
The door of the common room opened again and what you suspected to be another snogging couple to stumble out from the sound of heavy breathing and multiple shoes scuffling about was something completely different.
“Glad Malfoy stayed with someone else today.” It was Crabbe.
“Yeah, he never lets us go to these parties,” Goyle responds. “Go ahead and thank Y/L/N for freeing us, he fancies her like a fool.”
“Reckon we should go look for them?”
You figured Goyle nodded to him like the blathering idiot he was because in a few short seconds they were running away up the same steps everyone else had. 
You peered up slowly at Draco who was already gaping at you like a deer in headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The gears in your brain were spinning wildly with happiness, the gossip hopefully being proven true when he didn’t try to deny it. You didn’t realize how close his face was to yours, cheeks tinged with pink from both the firewhisky and sudden shyness and his warm cinnamon breath fanning your face as he looked down at you.
“I can explain,” he finally said.
He didn’t need to; you placed your hands gently on his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer to you and pressing your lips against his, catching him completely by surprise. His eyes were wide at first, his body rigid and his lips unmoving, but once it finally clicked that this was real and no longer a fantasy that played like a broken record in his head, his lips moved fervently against yours with the rest of his body following. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers squeezing at the hem of your bottoms and his body pushing even further into yours.
Your bottom lip caught lightly in between his teeth as you reluctantly pulled away from him, the both of you breathing raggedly as you searched each other’s eyes.
“I feel the same,” you said softly. “Happy Halloween.”
He smashes his lips hungrily against yours again, his ego growing with each gasp of a delight that escapes your mouth as your hands roamed and tangled themselves into his magically colored strands.
“Very...happy...halloween,” he mutters against your lips in between kisses, a dazy smile adorning your face while he tightened his arms around you.
You just couldn’t wait until next year.
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Text
Soft
Sirius Black X Ravenclaw!Reader
Warnings: Very fluffy, use of she/her pronouns, a few physical descriptions of height and hair, reader being a childhood friend of Sirius and Regulus, use of the nickname bunny, sad Sirius :(
Word Count: 2592
enjoy :)
Sirius was having a bad day.
Usually he was able to move through them with little friction, a little extra quidditch practice, a little harsher joke at Peter's expense. Nothing too bad, just getting it out in little ways all day long, and by the end of the day he felt better. But today started bad. He had a nightmare, and if you asked him he would say that it was less of a nightmare and more of a flashback. He woke up sweaty and sticky and crying. Gasping for air, hands waving frantically towards his sheets and his heart trying to find proof of it being over. The sun wasn't up yet, and even though his brain told him to wake someone up, he just took a cold shower. Put on his favorite sweater and went to the gryffindor common room. The red chair next to the fireplace was calling his name.
On top of not sleeping well, he got a letter dropped in his tea this morning. He knew from the nameless front of the envelope that it was from his mother. The green ink inside only furthered his bad mood. Remus' look of sympathy was met with a tight lipped semblance of a smile, and when James pat him on the back he felt the urge to hurl. Pity is really the last thing Sirius wanted, ever, but right now he couldn't stand it. Mumbling some excuse to leave, he went to the black lake. Alone and quiet, that's what he needed.
Of course, with his luck, it didn't last long. His mood hadn't improved in the half hour he was alone, and he was sure being by himself much longer wouldn't have helped either, but the presence of another person irked him. Looking up and seeing his brother lessened the annoyance, he was positive James venting about Lily would make everything worse.
"I see mummy dearest wrote to you as well?"
The scoff Sirius let out truly was unintentional. He had been trying to reconnect with Regulus, and while it wasn't his idea, he really was trying. Having someone who knew, lived the very same thing that made his day start so awfully, was refreshing. He didn't have to act like it wasn't so bad, especially on days where he needed someone to say that it was.
"Only called me a disgrace 4 times this time around, didn't even mention how I was a traitor."
This time it was Regulus responding, a soft hum of acknowledgement, and a deep sigh.
"I win then, she only said I was a disgrace once."
It got Sirius to chuckle, a deep chuckle that was laced with sadness. The silence that followed was comforting, no expectation for conversation was something Sirius rarely experienced, and he was glad it was happening with Regulus. Laying back so he was flat against the ground, Sirius heaved a large sigh, dramatically flopping his arm over his face. Regulus stretched, tapped his brother's knee three times, and stood up to leave.
"You should visit (Y/N) soon, she wasn't at breakfast."
Sirius' thoughts were flooded with the girl, instantly raising his bad mood. He ignored the part of him that got annoyed when Regulus spoke of her, as if they were close. While she had always been in the lives of the Black boys, she held a tighter grip on Sirius. And he knew, everyone knew. He relished in it.
Regulus started walking away in the middle of his thoughts, and over his shoulder yelled, "If you see her, tell her I say hello!"
The rest of Sirius' day went quite similarly to his morning. He failed a herbology quiz, got a detention in potions, made James upset when he spoke up about his obsession with Lily ("If she said never in a million years, prongs, that usually means she wants you to leave her alone!") and while he felt bad when James face dropped and Peter shook his head, Remus saved him by putting his hand on Sirius' shoulder and said quietly, "It's okay, he knows how your days been."
By the time dinner had come about, Sirius was ready to be eaten by the squid in the black lake. He stopped the facade of his typical self just after his talk with Regulus, and while he knew he should eat, he just pushed his food around his plate. He tried listening to Peter's story, and the summary of the most recently finished book Remus was telling, but his eyes were blank, and so was his head.
He left dinner without a word, going to walk through the halls until he felt good enough to sleep. His feet led him to the Ravenclaw tower door, getting nervous as he approached the eagle knocker. He let his breath out when the riddle was easy enough to solve (to be fair, (Y/N) had once said the eagle adjusted what riddle was used based on the immediate judging of the intelligence of the student, and while Sirius didn't think he was stupid, he appreciated a simple ego boost in the form of an easily solvable riddle.) and he walked in, dragging his feet to the stairs.
The Ravenclaw tower was structured differently than the Gryffindor, but the stairs to the girls dorm were the same. After muttering the simple charm to make sure the stairs didn't slide him straight back down, he walked down the hall to the head girls room, hoping she was there.
When his knock was met with silence he walked in anyways. Thinking maybe even her bed would help him in this moment. And while as desperate as it sounded, he knew she wouldn't mind. Opening the door he was met with the blissful sound of the shower, the light under the door and the light humming coming from the ensuite being the best thing his senses have experienced all day. Sirius walked slowly to the bathroom door, stopping to look at himself in the mirror on her dresser. He looked as tired as he felt, the remnants of a bad day hanging so obviously off of him. A crooked tie, messier than usual hair, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like the physical representation of a bad day.
When he got to the door of the bathroom he paused. This wasn't an unfamiliar routine, yet in this very moment he was anxious. Doubt flooded him. Scared of a rejection that wasn't going to approach him. Opening the door was relieving. Like a thousand pounds were suddenly lifted off his shoulders. Lavender and vanilla took over his senses, the warmth of the steam, the sounds of light music and water hitting tile. He was sure this is what heaven felt like.
"Sirius? Is that you?" He felt even lighter when she said his name. That soft tone, the one she only used for him. The same one she used every single time she spoke to him. It never failed to give him butterflies, even on the worst days. Somehow just her existing made his world a little brighter.
"Yes, 's me, bun." He couldn't find the energy to say much else, and the good part about her was that he didn't have to. The silence he left was welcomed, one she would gladly fill up with the melodies of Beatles songs he showed her.
"Reg said you were having a rough day, that I should expect you after a while." Her tone was questioning, leaving him the space to tell her as much as he needed. She always did that, let him take control in conversations about such things. He admired it truly, wanting to keep her in his pocket forever.
"Hasn't been the best day, no." Sirius took a seat on the counter, next to a few lit candles, and began fiddling with his fingers. Taking deep breaths, inhaling her scent that was stuck to the air all around him.
"D'you want to talk about it? 'Ve only got my hair left." He didn't want to talk about it, not really. He hummed as an answer, and she started singing as if she hadn't ever asked. The room lit up with the scent of her shampoo, a smell Sirius knew quite well. It was lavender, matched her conditioner, and lingered on the pillows he slept on in her bedroom. It was the kind of warm smell that encompassed you in a bubble of safety, and the feeling of home. Sirius began to think about all the times she ever made him feel like that. All the times she ever made him feel safe, content in being who he was. Because she loved who he was. And her own comfortability with that, with him, was enough to make him secure in it himself.
"'M gonna make you close your eyes now, no peeking." She giggled lightly under her breath as she turned the water off, moving the curtain to make sure his eyes were closed. He didn't say anything, and he really didn't peek. With his eyes closed his other senses got stronger. The smell of her shampoo mixing with that of her vanilla lotion, the sound of her brush running through her hair, the ever so quiet hum of the last song that had played. He felt his entire body calm down, being completely soothed by her entirety. All he could sense, all he could smell and hear, was her. And it grounded him.
"You can open your eyes now, Siri, 'm decent." He almost didn't want to. He suddenly felt very sleepy, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in her arms and sleep as long as she let him. Once he did open his eyes, his heart fluttered. She was wearing an old sweater of his, knit by an older Gryffindor and given to him as a Christmas gift the last year he stayed here for the holidays. It was shades of green, woven together to make a chunky knit sweater that fell just past her hips. She was wearing his old pajama pants too, ones from an impromptu sleepover at his childhood home. He wasn't shocked they fit her, considering she hadn't grown since third year, but he was shocked to see she kept them.
She blew out the candles next to him, smoke billowing up and out of the jar they were in. She put lotion on her face and her hands, grabbing his hands and putting the excess on them. She grabbed his chin very lightly with her thumb and forefinger, moving his head around, as if to inspect him, and for a small moment Sirius was afraid of what she would find.
"You haven't been sleeping well. Haven't been eating either." She said it so surely. As if she could see it written on his forehead in black ink. Sirius shook his head softly, not wanting the warmth from her fingers to leave his skin. She smiled nicely up at him, moving her hand to brush his hair out of his face. He reached up to hold her wrist, trapping her hand against his cheek, and she smiled softer. She had to stand on the very tips of her toes to kiss his head, and it made him huff, and almost laugh, and she smiled victoriously.
She pulled him into her room gently. Pushing him softly to sit on her bed while she walked to get him some pajamas. She pulled out a shirt he gave her and some pants he left in her room that Remus had given him for his birthday. He turned to change, facing the bathroom door just as he had when he came here not long ago. Swiftly changed into pajamas he laid down with a content sigh. Being head girl surely had its perks, and one of them was a king sized bed in a dorm with no roommates.
"D'you want some tea, lovey? Could make it with the honey like you like." How she made him blush with such simple words always baffled him. She remembered everything, she always has. Sirius shook his head, and instead opted for holding his arms up and making grabbing motions with his hands towards her. Her giggle made him smile, it made him notice he was in a much better mood, too. She walked over to the other side of the bed, laying right next to him, and pulled his shoulders to make him lay on her stomach. His arms instantly wound around her waist, shoving his face as deep as he could into her body, holding her as close as he possibly could. Her fingers found themselves weaving into his hair, running through the locks like they were strands of silk. The quiet that encased the room was a lovely type of silence. The kind that Sirius wishes he had more often. No matter how loud and obnoxious he got, times like these were where he felt most himself.
After a while of silence, (Y/N) started humming a song again. As sleepy as it made Sirius, he couldn't let himself sleep.
"I love you, bunny." It was mumbled into her shirt, a half-asleep induced speech mess. She hummed at him, running her hands through his hair while she waited for the perfect moment to say it back. It wasn't a long time before she responded, but while she was waiting he moved his head so his chin rested on her stomach, and he looked at her. It was a tired stare, half closed eyes and a dopey sleep smile etched into his features.
"D'ya hear me bun? Said I love you." She giggled at this, his insistence, and leaned down to kiss his hairline.
"Love you too, Siri. More than anythin' in the whole universe." Her voice was just as sleepy as his, and it made Sirius think that the moment meant that much more to him. That even in their vulnerable, tired states, they felt confident in loving each other. A satisfied hum left his throat, and as he was about to nuzzle back into her shirt, she pulled his hair to make him look at her again.
"'Ya gonna kiss me g'night, handsome? Or should I go get Regulus." A half-chuckle half-groan left his mouth, knowing it's a joke, yet not wanting it be said.
"Should know better than t'say that, bun. Gonna kiss you till y'can't breathe." She giggles as he shimmies up to her face, and she giggles even harder as he kisses all over her cheeks. She knows he feels better, can see that she got her Sirius back to normal, and it makes her feel accomplished. And it makes her think about how she'd do it every single day for eternity if he asked.
"Gimme one proper kiss so I can sleep, you big doof." He laughs into her cheek, placing one last kiss on each one, and finally landing on her lips. It was a long kiss, pressing the final bits of his bad mood into her. A few extra short pecks and one long dramatic smack of his lips later and he is back on her stomach, under the quilt she has charmed to stay warm, with her hands in his hair. Sometime in the night, after they've fallen asleep, his hands wind up under her shirt, searching for the warmth subconsciously. And sometime in the night, Sirius has dreams of her wearing his shirt in their bedroom, and he wakes up in a good mood.
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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
Text
One Last Dance
Day 4, Story #1 is by @be11atrixthestrange
Title: One Last Dance Author/Artist: be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Jily  Prompt: Halloween Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): implied character death
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Harry was fussier than usual on Halloween night. Bath time was an ordeal, as Harry kept knocking the shampoo bottle out of Lily’s hand and splashing water at her. Afterward, the child almost refused to fall asleep; he wriggled in her arms and tugged on her hair as she swaddled him. Just because he couldn’t speak full sentences yet didn’t mean he couldn’t communicate; he did so with his eyes, and Lily swore there was a smirk on his face as she rocked and sang to him, until he finally drifted off.
Lily didn’t mind a fussy baby, in fact, she enjoyed the challenge. She cherished every extra moment with her child, and at exactly fifteen months, Harry’s newfound spunk was nothing but evidence of his emerging personality. He had her eyes, and she wondered if he’d get James’ messy hair, horrid eyesight, and infuriating charm. She grinned at the thought of a sassy and sarcastic Harry, star of the quidditch team, just like his dad. Or maybe he’d be more like Lily; sensitive and studious, top of his class, future Head Boy. 
Of course, there could be nothing remarkable about him at all. He could turn out to be average, maybe even terrible at sports, or join weird clubs and get below-average marks. Even then, if her son came home for the summer excited about a slew of ‘acceptables’, or stressed about Gobstones club drama, he’d still be the coolest person Lily knew. 
Whatever he turned out to be — head boy, quidditch captain, super-nerd, or even squib — Lily couldn’t wait to find out. It was funny how determined she had been to never admit her feelings for James Potter. Her feelings were always there, but that boy had to work hard for her affection. All Harry had to do was laugh, or sneeze, or wrap his tiny fingers around her pinky, and Lily was a goner.
With the stubborn child finally asleep, Lily shuffled downstairs to find that James had already cleaned up dinner in the kitchen and was pouring two generous glasses of wine, almost as if he read her mind. 
He beamed when he saw her — one of her favorite things about him was that he made no effort to hide his feelings, ever — and slid the glass across the countertop. 
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, raising the glass to her lips. It was bitter to the taste but relented into a friendlier, fruitier flavor once Lily committed to a sip. 
She never knew she could relate so much to a glass of wine. 
“Halloween,” said James. “I know you love it, and I’m sorry we couldn’t celebrate the muggle way.”
Halloween was always Lily’s favorite holiday growing up. There was something comforting about everyone’s sudden suspension of disbelief and willingness to face what scared them. She wished muggles would have embraced the paranormal every day, it surely would have made her life easier.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It has to be this way.” 
Lily wished they could hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, but the neighborhood muggles couldn’t see their home; not while it was under the Fidelius Charm. Staying hidden wasn’t what she had imagined when moving to a mixed-magical community, but for now, it was the safest option. The only option. 
James met her on the other side of the kitchen island, interrupting her thoughts with two fingers under her chin. “Definitely next year,” he said before tilting her head up for a kiss. 
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she smiled against his lips, wondering if Harry’s ability to make her heart explode was just as hereditary as his bright green eyes. There was something about those Potter boys that knocked her off her feet.
Maybe James was right, and next year, things would be different. They could get to know their non-magical neighbors, and Lily could take Harry trick-or-treating. He’d look so cute dressed up as a hippogriff, and no one would bat an eye when he’d insist it was a real animal. Kids say the darndest things, and on Halloween, anything was possible. 
“Next year, for sure.” Lily took another swig of her wine and relished in the evolution of its flavor, a delicious reminder that things change, sometimes so fast that she might blink and miss it. Things weren’t perfect by any means — they were in the middle of a war, after all — but there was no shortage of good in their lives. Not everyone could say they had a happy family, loyal friends, and really good wine. 
“Dance with me?” asked James, setting his wine down next to hers and tugging gently on her arm. 
It didn’t take much to lure her into the open space of the living room and settle into the crook of his neck. There was no music, but that didn’t matter; if there had been a beat, they would probably have ignored it anyway. 
“Do you remember the first time we ever danced?”
She nodded against his shoulder. Of course she remembered.
It was Halloween, sixth year, and James and Lily had been alone in the common room. 
“Happy Halloween, Lily,” said James as he approached her. “Today, you’re not a freak.”
Out of context, it might have sounded like senseless teasing, but it was so much more than that. She stared back at him, mouth agape, and wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been years — years — since they had talked about Halloween, and somehow he remembered a passing comment from her eleven-year-old self. 
“You remember that?” she asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes. 
It was her answer to an ice-breaker game during their first year — ‘what’s your favorite holiday and why?’ She hadn’t expected the confused stares at her response. In the muggle world, Halloween was the only day when she didn’t feel weird. Now, Halloween, and the fact that it meant something different to her than to everyone else, meant it was the only day when she did. 
However, she’d happily settle for one single day of being a freak; it was much better than three hundred and sixty-four.
“Of course I remember,” said James, smiling at her. His grin was electric, almost zapping through his messy black hair. Then, he reached out a questioning hand and raised his eyebrows. She stared back at him, wishing he would just use his words, yet she was impressed that with her, he didn’t need to. James always wore his thoughts on his face, in plain sight for the world to see, and never seemed to feel any shame or embarrassment for expressing them.
It touched a nerve for Lily, who had spent most of her life hiding. She longed for him to have to explain himself for once, to actually verbalize his thoughts instead of coasting by in his utopia where people just understood him. It wasn’t fair. “What are you asking, James?” 
“Dance with me?” he clarified. His voice was annoyingly calm and collected as if he knew she had been expecting him to elaborate, yet aware that he didn’t have to. He didn’t even flinch at her incredulous stare, confident in his request, as if asking her to dance was the most obvious progression to wishing her a happy Halloween. 
“Why?” She steadied her hands firmly by her sides, hoping James didn't see her fingers twitch toward his.
“To celebrate Halloween, of course.” His cheeks were rosy, his eyes sparkling, and his continued lack of reaction was curious. Despite her rejection, he committed to holding out his hand with confidence. 
“People don’t dance on Halloween.”
“I’m people, and I dance on Halloween,” laughed James.
She looked at his hand and considered it. Despite a few accidental brushes of her hand while taking notes or passing in the hallway, she had never actually touched him. And Lily had always been the curious type.
James followed her gaze to his hand and playfully wiggled his fingers. 
“Okay,” she said, placing her hand in his. His touch was gentle, firm, confident. It felt nice. “But there’s no music.”
“We don’t need any,” he said, pulling on her arm so that her body pressed up against his. It might have been too forward if she hadn’t fit so perfectly, but honestly, standing any further from him would have felt like sitting upright in a reclining chair. “If there was music, I’d probably ignore the beat, anyway.”
“You would?”  His soft voice immediately put her at ease in his arms, even though her palms were sweating and her heart was picking up its pace. “Why?”
“I’m too distracted,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”
Lily laughed. “Then why’d you risk asking?”
“Anything is possible on Halloween, right?”
His arms tightened around her just then, not in a forceful way, just comfortable and supportive. She let herself get lost in the moment, swaying with James by the crackling fire, actually smelling, not imagining, his cologne, and feeling the prickle of his stubble against her forehead — when did that grow in? 
Maybe the next day, they’d go back to their usual dynamic, somewhere between flirting and arguing, annoyance and admiration. Or maybe, this would change things. There was something about the Potter boy and his messy black hair, unruly and uncaring, his glasses that should have made him look like a nerd but didn’t, and his annoying charisma that had an effect on her. It wasn’t a secret; they were both aware of it, yet neither felt the need to acknowledge it. At least not yet. They were so young, and they had so much time. 
“Was that when it all changed for you?” asked James, pulling her back to the present. “Is that when you finally gave in to my charm?”
Lily smiled at her husband. “Nothing changed that day. Nothing ever changed.”
James smiled, and Lily leaned into the sharpness of his stubble, a few lazy days unshaven. She melted against him and held him tight. Although his belly was softer, his voice was deeper, the circles under his eyes were darker, reflecting fifteen months of erratic sleep schedules, nothing about him had changed. 
The moment was broken by the sobering sound of a baby crying. Both Lily and James groaned as they pulled away from one another and swiftly turned their focus to their child. 
“I’ll put him back to bed,” said Lily.
“I can do it,” interrupted James. “You bathed him.”
Lily thought of the miniature James crying in his crib, and her heart clenched. It had only been minutes since she last snuggled him, and she already missed the child. “I really want to,” she said. 
James nodded, but his gaze was not on Lily. “Okay. I will meet you upstairs, then. I want to check the wards — I thought I saw some movement outside.”
Lily squinted at the window, her heart rate rising.
“It’s probably nothing,” said James.
Reaching for her half-full glass of wine, Lily nodded. “Alright, I’ll meet you upstairs. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
With one last glance at her husband, Lily made her way up the stairs toward Harry.
Harry, the child who always scrunched up his face when he slept, pursing his lips and crinkling his nose like he just ate a lemon. The boy with her eyes and James’ smile, who was already the best kid ever, even though his personality had yet to be determined. The kid who had a temper, but always calmed down the moment his mother wrapped her arms around him, the stubborn, determined one who could melt Lily’s heart with a single look. 
Her son, Harry, who she couldn’t wait to watch grow up, yet she hoped would never change.
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Evak Fics - Pining
I’m posting half of this list first because I started it a long time ago and it’s taking me a while to go through all the fics. So I will update with more later. 
*** Mutual Pining *** Pining - I might put mutual pining under pining if we don't see much of the other person pining. *** Bonus - The pining is not between Evak 
For the anon from this ask.
I will try my best to separate out the mutual pining fics but I think it will be tricky if it's not tagged as that. So bear with me and let me know of any mistakes or fics I missed out on.
. First Posting : 11 July 2021. Under 15k fics.  .
******* Mutual Pining *******
Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES, 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.
Postcards by HedwigsTalons (1k words) - Isak's wall is covered in postcards. Isak is supportive of Even's career and he cherishes every postcard but the long distance relationship hurts.
Feelings Come and Go, But Not With You by ultimatelawrence (1.9k words) - It was meant to just be a holiday romance. A fling. Nothing like love. But now it was six months later and Even was still pining over the angel he had met in Paris.
let's pretend into forever by Bellakitse (2.3k words) - “Let me get this straight,” Even starts. “You lied to your boss about having a boyfriend, told her it was me, and now you need me to go with you to your science nerd dinner?”
i will love you until the very, very end (and you were my best friend) by traumatic (2.4k words) - Isak and Even share something in the cool waters of a spring fed pool that no one, not even their fiancées, could ever understand.
Breathe Me by photographer_of_thoughts (4.5k words) - A high school reunion brings Isak and Even together after ten years, and neither of them can forget what happened when they were both seventeen.
Everything comes back to you by MermaidsandMermen (4.8k words) - Light pining. A dribble oneshot for Halloween, full of fluff and Even and Isak and a tiny pinch of angst. Because we need some Halloween fluff. That's all.
Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.
i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.
all I see is you by littlemovie (Lejla) (7.4k words) - “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m a bad person?” Isak somehow whined and demanded at the same time. Jonas blew out a breath in amusement, which made the dark curls on his forehead move with his breath. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that guy, Even, from the coffeeshop?”
Addicted by endlessandinfinite (8k words) - They’re both completely, overwhelmingly, and incredibly...addicted. Best friends to lovers.
Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.
In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.
Let Me by GayaIsANerd (10.6k words) - Summer brings a lot of things. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of children playing in the shallow part of the lake. The taste of cold beer. The sweet tang of weed. But most importantly, summer brings Isak.
Something Borrowed, Something Blue by BluebeardsWife (10.8k words) - Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex's wedding. This Means Nothing to Me by cuteandtwisted (10.8k words) - Isak and Even are friends and roommates who don't believe in love anymore (after they both get dumped by other people) until they do. Aka the Friends/Roommates-To-Lovers Don't you let me go by solarpower21 (12.2k words) - In this universe, Isak and Even are roomates and nothing more. Except that there is something more between them and they both know that but are too stubborn to admit it. Too bad it takes a very unfortunate event for them to face the truth. Burn Down The Disco by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (12.2k words) - A 'Black Mirror: Hang The DJ' AU in which Isak and Even decide to rebel against a futuristic dating system that pairs users up with various people in order to find their perfect match.
La Petite Mort by EvenbechNeiheim (13.4k words) - Even Bech Næsheim is one of those cool and very hot media students at Uni who might just got the task to make a film project. Eskild is the best wingman and things like accidently falling in love with an asshole media student happen. Based on the FIRST KISS YouTube video that gave the internet an entire meltdown. 
when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by orphan_account (13.5k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else. 
Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left. 
Love in the Time of COVID: Battlestar Edition by sweetasmaple (14k words) - Isak and Even find each other again during the COVID-19 lockdown, one Battlestar Galactica episode at a time. 
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******* Pining *******
never seemed so alive by retts (1k words) - Nothing special, just four letters strung together to spell out E V E N but they made Isak's heart race and his face blush and his hands tremble.
Hopeless by waitineedaname (1k words) - Light pining. There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust.
i could probably just curl up in you. by milominderbinder (1.3k words) - Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even. 'hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?' He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.
stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence.
now and forever (i will be your man) by thekardemomme (2.2k words) -Warning for pain. 3 times isak kisses even +1
i be up in the gym just working on my fitness by orphan_account (2.3k words) - Even knows that he's quite literally going to die when he finds his crush sweating on an elliptical, reading a book with his glasses slipping down his nose.
You know where I stay by nofeartina (2.4k words) - Warning for pain. Isak is so beautiful first thing in the morning. When he still has creases in his face from the pillow, when his face is red and puffy from sleep, his hair all messed up and curly. Even prefers this Isak. This is his Isak, this is only for him.
won't you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened (3.2k words) - "i've been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you're refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it's gone too far and i can't go back"
Cookies and Cream by GayaIsANerd (3.5k words) - Isak has a crush on the barista. He's too scared to do anything about it, but luckily there's a blizzard coming up.
i can feel the weather in my bones by EvenbechNeiheim (3.7k words) - Isak and Even are childhood friends. There’s a boyfriend sweater and Isak is just desperate to wear it.
On the silver screen by Lokkanel (4k words) - Isak was really not in the mood for this. He had a long week at work, and all he wanted was to relax with his friend, drink a few beers, maybe even smoke some weed and just chill. But no. When Jonas called him to say that he won tickets to the coolest indie film festival in Oslo, Isak knew he could forget his plans for a quiet and simple weekend.
I want to love you (in my own language) by fauu_stine (4k words) - “Okay. Maybe I’m not happy,” he admits in a resigned whisper. “Do you need a shrink discussion or a best friend discussion?” "I think- I think it’s more of a friend with benefits kind of talk."
Don't be an ass by Julieseven (4.1k words) - Even really tried to forget about him. It started out as a harmless little crush, really. He saw him at the karaoke bar SYNG one night, singing "I don't want to miss a thing" at the top of his lungs, clearly drunk out of his mind, but looking like an angel with his messy dark blond locks and crooked smile.
Little Black Book by Laika (4.3k words) - Isak Valtersen is studying his third year at the University of Oslo and having the time of his life. Enter Evy Bech Næsheim, straight out of Nissen, in his stockings, mini skirts and bubblegum scented lip gloss.
cracks in our foundation by towonderland72 (4.8k words) - “You know, like a thousand years ago, men used to wear makeup?” Even asks, as Isak gapes at himself.
Safest With You (Green Curtains) by eavk (5.3k words) - Isak keeps staying up too late studying at the library, but luckily there's an escort service that gives students a buddy to walk with to keep safe at night.
the one with the prom video by thekardemomme (5.5k words) - Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way.
Senses by Lokkanel (5.5k words) - Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste… Or Even falling in love with Isak, one sense at a time.
you're the one i wanna grey with (5.6k words) - They've only been dating a month, so Isak shouldn't be pathetic enough to miss Even this much when he's only gone for a weekend.
Orion's Nebula by thekardemomme (5.6k words) - Light pining I think. Even Bech Næsheim was enrolled in an astronomy class for one reason and one reason only: the cute ass boy he saw standing in the registration line.
with the taste of a poison paradise by chasingflower (6k words) - It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention. Coraline Au.
How to Get Your Man - A Plan By Even Bech Naesheim by Evakkk (6.1k words) - When Magnus drops a big secret in front of Even... Even comes up with a brilliant plan to get Isak to reveal his true feelings. All it takes is one little lie, and one crazy family reunion.
To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts (6.1k words) - AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.
Watermelon Sugar by MermaidsandMermen (6.6k words) - A little tribute to fruit and touching. To sex, and friendships and finding what you were looking for all along. And of course inspired by Harry Styles latest video offering, just because.
The Fake Boyfriend App by Crazyheart (7.2k words) - AU where Isak is desperately pining for his flatmate Even, and downloads a fake boyfriend app to get over him. When he discovers that the Fake boyfriend is a human, and not a bot, he is sceptical.
That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else.
my longing drives me crazy for you (7.7k words) - Isak's mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. It's a fake dating au.
I'm Always Here by nofeartina (9.3k words) - “Did you know that Even is working this summer? At that pool at the Plaza?” Jonas says. Isak actually sits up in excitement at this. “Fuck yeah!” Oh, a pool. Actual water they could go swimming in and cool down. And also, Even.
a garden for your love by eggsntoast (9.3k words) - He’s learning to breathe with them, even if he ends up with a floor full of violets by the end of it all. They remind Isak of him, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes it worse. or: a Hanahaki au ft. Isak heavily pining after Even. Lots of angst.
I wrote an angry letter to the void, and the void responded (9.5k words) - Monday comes, and the book is still there. Isak looks around, content to find the floor practically empty, before giving the book the finger. Fuck that book. - a book finds it's way to Isak's sacred study spot. this proves to be a major distraction.
a constant state of closeness by chevythunder (9.7k words) - “What is it about this dude, anyway?” Elias asks. “You’ve barely even talked to him, right?” “I don’t know,” Even says. “I just got this feeling, you know? Just- I want to make sure he’s okay and safe and… stuff.” - It starts with a hug.
Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?
Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.
Just like in the movies by Lokkanel (10.5k words) - As he began taking in his surroundings, Isak realized he was in one of those small theaters that programmed independent and artsy movies, even old black and white films. He was ready to turn around and walk away when he heard a deep voice say, “Halla.”
my tiny heartbeat in his ear by riyku (11k words) - Now, about a week after the longest day of the year, the empty house across the street has stopped being empty. most beautiful things by scarletbluebird (12.7k words) - This fic is a whole ass journey. Warning for pain. This isn’t a fairytale, Isak tells himself. Even is standing at the bend in the road. He looks like a metaphor for immortal life: the youth a god would kill for. Ambrosia eyes, the universe trapped in the curve of his mouth. He looks like every warning from his mother about strangers you run into after dark. 
One week by Lokkanel (12.8k words) - This thing going on between Isak and Even, whatever they called it - fuckbuddies, friends with benefits - was simple, fun, nothing more. They were friends, they were both free to do whatever they wanted with other people. They’d just meet and have sex whenever they felt like it. Simple. Until what was bound to happen eventually did and Even fell for Isak. 
Plum by Jamz24 (13.2k words) - Femme!teacher!Even asks masculine! plumber!Isak to fix a broken shower on a scorching hot summer day...And if you think it sounds like the start of a porn film you're absolutely right! There's LOADS of smut but ... with LOTS of feelings 
Never be the same by nofeartina (14.2k words) - It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex?It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying. 
Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland (14.6k words) - The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan. 
If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14.7k words) - The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to. 
All I Ever Wanted by MinilocIsland (14.8k words) - Isak is such a good friend. Probably the best there is. How else could he explain that he's agreed to join Magnus to this place deep in the woods for six full days of silence, meditation, and utter boredom? One thing, he knows. There's nothing exciting for him there. Right? Or: the silent retreat AU. 
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******* Bonus *******
Season 3: Jonas by Laika_the_husband (WIP, SBB 2021 fic) - There is a scene in the end of the script for season 1, where Jonas and Isak kiss each other on a dare. This story is a retelling of season 3 in a universe, where that kiss happened and completely changed the way Jonas sees Isak. Written in Jonas' POV, the story examines sexuality, love, friendship and coming to terms with never getting the boy you shouldn't have fallen for in the first place.
What the fuck is wrong with me? by notanugget (11.6k words) - The five times isak felt guilty for being in love and the one time he didn’t 
thanks for the weed, thanks for everything by evak1isak (13.1k words) - Jokael. Jonas' dealer has moved to Denmark, and Even recommends his friend's weed. What Jonas didn't expect, though, was to develop a crush on a boy, on Mikael. 
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******* WIP *******
Baby, why do you have to shine so bright? by Lilacpotter - Even knew he was radiant, and he was used to people always wanting to be around him, enchanted by his captivating words and glowing smiles, as if he was the tantalising sun. But then one day, he comes across someone who shines much brighter than the sun itself in Even’s eyes.
Lonely Hearts Club by EndingsNotTheStory - The Hearts Club. A show run by Isak and his 3 friends. He's kind of had enough with hearing about people's relationship issues and giving advice. Until the guy from his theatre class and Isak's totally not crush Even calls, dealing with relationship issues. pining
68 notes · View notes
amajikilvr · 3 years
Note
ugh i love your fluffy alphabet on tamaki 🥺 so if it's okay, can you do one for bakugou, too?
headcanon corner - katsuki bakugou sfw alphabet
word count 1.8k
reader type gender-neutral
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
In the beginning, Katsuki’s affection will come out quite stubbornly and will be harder to see at times. Later on, it’s obvious how much he cares for you. His heart is full of love despite his aggressive attitude. He’s not afraid to show PDA, no matter who’s watching, and you’re often the recipient of his rare compliments. Katsuki is always ready to say “I love you”.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
That’s a tricky one. Befriending people isn’t exactly on Katuski’s radar, but he’d prefer someone who could “keep up with him” if so to speak. Reliable helps too. This friendship might start with him genuinely, although reluctantly, praising your quirk or skills.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
“This is fuckin’ stupid,” He’ll mumble as he wraps his strong arms around you, but he’s loving every minute of it. Katsuki’s down to snuggle in front of everyone, but if you’re the one initiating, he’ll be a tad bit embarrassed and no one dares point it out. When you two are completely alone you’ll get to see his softer side and you might even be the big spoon for once.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He’ll want to settle down in a sense that he needs to be sure that they’re his and he’s theirs. The method of doing so will depend on what’s best for both of you, but moving in together is probably in the cards. Katsuki makes a fantastic roommate because, among his many talents, cooking is one of them. He’s also a bit of a clean fanatic and you might wake up to him vacuuming or doing the dishes at 7 AM or something.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Firstly, he would fight tooth-and-nail against whatever was threatening the relationship because he’s not letting you go easily. If it absolutely came down to ending things, Katsuki would make it straight to the point and as quick as possible. He wouldn’t be able to remain ‘just friends’ with you and would never truly move on in his heart.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)
Katsuki is beyond committed and he firmly believes there are several ways to show it besides putting a ring on it. If you two were to eventually get married it would be later on so your careers could be focused on. He just wants you both to succeed and achieve your dreams more than anything, but if the marriage was something you really wanted, he might consider tying the knot earlier than previously planned.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Although I think Katsuki is actually a sensitive person, he can definitely be on the rough side of things. He can read and interpret others’ emotions, but relating to them can be a challenge. I don’t believe he’d ever act maliciously towards you or anyone else he cares for. He’s got a soft touch and even the occasional kind words during the most surprising times.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Katsuki’s a bigger fan of kisses, but he does love hugs! He’s always, well, touching you. Huge bear hugs. Squeezy. Warm. The type to literally lift you off of your feet. He’ll leave little tickling kisses on your neck and shoulders while whispering words against your skin.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He’ll say the words in every possible way… besides actually saying the words. It’s like a mental block of Katsuki’s because he’s admittedly scared of proclaiming his love in such a straight-forward way. Once he gets over that first hump, it’s no problem for him. He won’t be throwing the words around like candy, but he’ll always say what’s on his mind.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Katsuki is emotional and jealousy is a familiar feeling for him. Being a bit of a hothead definitely doesn’t help either. This jealousy stems from his insecurities and can be overbearing. At the beginning of the relationship, it will probably be the cause of some arguments between you two. Later on, jealous Katsuki will just include him being extra pissy and extra cuddly.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Passionate. Always. If he’s kissing you, he’s going all the way. Even during your first kiss, he gave it his all. Sure, it was an awkward mess of spit and teeth, but he was eager and didn’t hesitate! Katsuki’s skills have improved by now and he never fails to showcase them. It doesn’t matter where, if he’s kissing you, then he’s happy. It depends on your preferences. And as for him… his neck is especially sensitive and he’ll never admit it.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Well, after the remedial lessons episode, we know he’s not very good. At all. Despite that, I can imagine him still wanting kids eventually. An “I can’t stand any kid except my own” type.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Katsuki is your typical morning person. He’s up at the same time every day and it amazes you. Well, unless you’re a morning person yourself, that is. If you’re a heavy sleeper then waking you up on time will be his new personal mission. He’ll probably make you a nice breakfast and get as many kisses as he can in before work.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Haha! This guy goes to bed at like 9-pm. He’s got a strict schedule and if you somehow manage to get him to stay up later to watch a movie with you or something, he’s gonna fall asleep on your lap and it’s adorable. It’s the perfect opportunity to play with his soft hair without having to hear him grumble about it the entire time.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It’s going to take a while to break through his outer shell, but he’s not exactly secretive about his feelings and his past. Katsuki trusts you enough to be open with his mistakes and he won’t hide anything if you just ask.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
I think this one is a bit self-explanatory, but it’s not very often that he gets angry at you.He’s getting better at controlling his anger and you tend to bring out his gentler side too.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)
In the moment, it may seem like simply he brushes it off or doesn’t really acknowledge it, but that’s actually not the case. Katsuki always remembers and takes everything into consideration. The number of little things he keeps notes of might surprise.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
One Saturday afternoon, Katsuki decided he was going to try out a new chocolate cake recipe and you decided you’d try your hand at baking for once! He was absolutely willing to teach you and it was going well… until you somehow managed to drop an egg yolk right on Katsuki’s sock covered foot. His favorite pair of socks at that. The kitchen was quiet until he swifty flicked flour at your forehead and it was game-on from there. The next thirty minutes were filled with lots of flour and kisses.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Katsuki couldn’t be more protective of you and he’s more than willing to use his quirk if needed. He’s prepared to fight for you in the blink of an eye, no question about it. His job as a pro-hero means so much when you’re someone he has to protect, but he also knows it’s a mutual feeling. He completely believes in your own physical abilities to keep him safe and your reassuring words make him truly feel like the greatest.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He’s certainly not lazy when it comes to your relationship, but at the same time, Katsuki finds things like fancy dates and lavish gifts kinda pointless. He couldn’t care less about eating at an expensive restaurant, all that matters is that he’s with you. That’s not to say that he won’t give you nice things because he will be spoiling you, especially on anniversaries and holidays.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
His inferiority complex has always been his biggest enemy. There are times when he just can’t shut off his competitive side and it can turn things ugly when he lets his insecurities get the best of him. His temper is also something he’s struggled with and is still learning how to manage.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Katsuki really doesn’t care about that kind of thing. Of course, it does fuel his ego and boost his confidence when you compliment his looks. He considers himself to be an attractive person, but nothing too special. (You think differently)
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He likes to believe otherwise, but yeah, he really would. He couldn’t imagine a day without you. It’s just a scary thing for Katsuki to accept that he relies on someone other than himself for once.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He’ll never admit it, but spiders really freak him out. Let’s just say he won’t argue if you offer to take one outside.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Someone who gives up easily would just kinda irritate him. Katsuki knows people struggle, hell, he’s definitely one of them, but seeing someone simply not try and throw in the towel when things don’t go their way is something that would get on his nerves.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
He’s somehow got a cute snore. Yup. It’s not even really a snore, more like some kind of soft breathing noise, but it’s noticeable and something you’ve grown to love. It’s also difficult for Katsuki to fall asleep in places other than his own bed.
334 notes · View notes
maria-scribbles · 4 years
Text
we’re just like kevin bacon!
prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao
ship: jj maybank x fem!reader
word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)
warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)
a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊
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Of three things in life you were certain.
One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.
Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.). 
And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears. 
The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.
You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.
...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him. 
It all started when you were twelve.
You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.
So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect. 
"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"
"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.
"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.  
You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table. 
The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"
"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo. 
"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing. 
"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.
"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."
"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."
"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.
You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind. 
You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.
The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.
At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways. 
At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward. 
When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.
You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.
"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"
"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.
"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"
Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"
You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"
"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"
"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"
Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses. 
"Hi, Janine."
"...Egon."
The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.
"Why Janine?" 
"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.
"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"
"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"
"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"
For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."
"Are you kidding? He's the worst!" 
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor. 
"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.
"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.
To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three. 
At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.  
But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.
"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"
Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"
Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.
Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.
Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.
You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips. 
"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.
"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"
You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"
You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'
And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.  
"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.
"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."
"I'm down for some smudging if you are." 
You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.
"Confident, are we?" 
JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"
"Just shut up and kiss me." 
He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.  
"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.
"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.
"N-never was very good at that." 
"'You should've learned.'"
"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"
One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"
"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!" 
"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"
"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"
The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.
His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone. 
"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.
"What the hell do you want?"
"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again." 
The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.
"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."
"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!" 
Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.
"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.
"Fuck me."
"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.
"You know what I meant, Maybank."
"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"
You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."
"I was hoping you’d say that.”
- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"
He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.  
"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."
"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius." 
The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"
Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."
taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee​ 
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narrators-journal · 3 years
Text
Months of tolerance
So, I was looking back at my ranpoe valentines story and I got an idea. Why not write a little collection? A little trio or so of Valentines-themed sort of ship stories?
And so, I wrote a second one for Shin-soukoku! Though, please be forgiving, I’m not a super big fan of Atsushi, so I don’t have a lot of ideas and experience on how he works and behaves, so I kinda took inspiration from the rp me and my friend did for BSD and their sort of rendition of Atsushi mixed with canon.
Atsushi had never really experienced Valentines day or White day, so when Dazai offered to take him out on one of his days off and introduce him to the basics of the event he accepted it. He was quick to find it to be a bit depressing.            “Dazai, I don't think I have any real...reason to be here," The tiger sighed, putting down one of the little Valentines bears he'd been looking at in the shop and looking over at the bandage-clad brunette that was to be his mentor in the ADA. The rail of a man just pouted at him,            "Nonsense, Atsushi! You're learning about romance," he assured, giving the white-haired man a sweet smile, which made Atsushi grimace,            "Yeah, but this holiday is obviously for couples, and I don't have any romantic partner of any sort," He pointed out, a stone of loneliness settling in the bottom of his stomach as he spoke, but his mentor simply snorted as if that point was moot.            "Sushi, you don't need a romantic partner to celebrate Valentines day, you can just as easily get gifts for friends. After all, I don't have a partner but I'm gonna get a gift for someone." He assured, and while the tiger was still a bit unsure, he just nodded.
After that, he just went back to milling around up and down the aisle as he poked at the little toys, knick knacks, or sweets scattered about until Dazai clapped his hands together in an idea,          "Atsushi! I have an idea for what you can do on Valentines day!" he chirped, bouncing on his feet in some childish, giddy high, "Why not get a gift for Ryuunosuke!" The tiger blinked and scowled at the idea,          "Why the hell would I do that? I don't have any sort of feelings for him," he about spat, almost feeling his lip curl in a snarl at the mere mention of the wheezing, gothic, Dazai fanboy. However, the brunette simply rolled his eyes at his venom,          "There is a very common phrase, 'kill your enemies with kindness', you ever hear it?" before the weretiger could answer, he continued, "Akutagawa doesn't like you. At all. Hates your guts. But! If you get him a gift, maybe be as friendly as you can be, you can get him to warm up to you!" the weretiger's scowl only deepened, which made his mentor huff and drop the excited, bubbly tone, "If you get him to like you, you won't have to spend quite as much on shirts every week." Atsushi ended up buying a cheap little gift for the goth. However, that now left him with a question. How was he to get the cheap plush cat to Akutagawa? He'd been pondering the question all through out the three days that led up to Valentines day, going back and forth on whether or not he should even bother with Dazai's stupid idea. Is it really worth risking getting stabbed again? Just to give this cheap little thing to a bastard like Akutagawa? He thought bitterly, though his cheeks burned a slight pink while he glared down at the floppy little beanie baby cat that was sprawled out on his meager little coffee table, staring up at the tiger with glassy amber eyes while he sat on his couch the evening before Valentines day. I'd sooner drink my own piss then give Akutagawa a Valentines gift. He told himself firmly, getting up from his couch and plucking the toy from the cheap table to get rid of it. To do this, he threw it out of his livingroom window into the darkness of the cold night and listened to it land in the dumpster across the street with a soft thud thanks to how hard he'd thrown it. And, with that, he shut his window with a decisive 'humph' and went to bed. Dazai was a smart man, but Atsushi was not going to have conflicting and confusing feelings plague him just to placate a violent asshole with a hateboner for him. An hour later, the tiger went out to the dumpster he'd heard the cat slam against and dug the poor thing out to be washed. Not that the weretiger had changed his mind or anything, he'd just spent money on the derpy little toy, he didn't want to waste it. Or, so he told himself. So, he instead returned it to his bedside table after washing it a few times, trying to see if he could somehow rub the new crack out of his amber eye while doing his best to get the dumpster stench out of its fur. If he really was going to 'kill Akutagawa with kindness' like Dazai said, the least he could do was make sure the gift didn't reek of three day old take out and dog vomit. When the next day came, he took the toy to work, then walked home with it draped over his arm after a day of dealing with petty couple squabbles that had turned nasty, or helping Ranpo to and from the smattering of robberies he'd been requested on. Y'know, this just proves why I should've kept this thing in the garbage, he fumed to himself, staring at the sidewalk ahead of him so he didn't see even more lovey-dovey couples for the day, If I gave this to Akutagawa somehow, all that would happen is I'd be a statistic. Nothing more. He hates me too much, it'd probably off- Atsushi's ill-tempered thoughts were cut short when he ran into someone else on the sidewalk, sending them both sprawling to the pavement.           "O-oh my god! I'm so sorry, are you hurt miss?!" The weretiger squeaked, hopping up to his feet at record speeds to offer a hand to the pretty lady in white. She had long black hair, and a familiar style of dress on, but it was her light, steel-colored eyes that finally got her face to click in the frazzled tiger's irrational mind.          "Oh!...Gin, right?" he asked as she took his hand and let him help her up while she nodded,          "Sorry, I didn't mean to run you over," she said, her voice as quiet as the first time he'd met her with Katai and Kunikida, but her words shot a nebulous sort of anxiety into his veins,         "Oh, no no no, it was my fault, I wasn't looking where I-I was going," he stammered, trying desperately to comfort her as he reached to dust her off, but then changed his mind half way, doing that would be super weird, so he instead tried to think up another way to make up for running into her. He felt awful for knocking her over, but had no clue what to do, so he just ended up putting a hand over his anxious heart and staying quiet. Gin, meanwhile, had spotted the saggy stuffed toy on the sidewalk,           "Um, is that yours?" She asked, picking it up and dusting the little thing off gently, snapping Atsushi out of his thoughts,          "What? Oh! Yeah, that's...actually, I bought it for...Akutagawa." he admitted, not knowing what else to say to explain why he had a stuffed cat. Gin blinked at him, raising an eyebrow,           "No offense, but why did you buy my brother a toy? Is it for Valentines day?" Atsushi gaped for a moment, for some reason his brain struggling to give even the simplest answer for a moment,          "I...D-Dazai suggested getting him a gift..." he muttered, his cheeks beginning to heat up as he spoke, which Gin seemed to notice, but she said nothing,          "Well, how about I deliver it to him? He likes cats, I'm sure he'd enjoy this one," she offered sweetly instead, and for a moment Atsushi could only stare at her while his cheeks undoubtedly glowed a healthy pink until he cleared his throat, get yourself together Atsushi! This is a fine way to get the damned gift to Akutagawa, then Dazai can get off your ass, he told himself, pushing down the weird flustered feeling in his chest,         "Um, t-that would be helpful," She nodded, smiling a bit at the toy cat. With that, she wished him well as the sky darkened from the yellow-purple gradient of Atsushi's eyes, to a dark, star-speckled blue, leaving the tiger to walk home and contemplate his day. For the next few days, the weretiger was on edge, just waiting for the wheezing goth to pop out from behind every corner ready to stab him. However, it never happened. Atsushi was expecting it, always at the ready to defend himself, but for the entire month he didn't even see his nemesis on jobs, let alone when he was walking home or too work. So, he began to relax. Maybe he really did enjoy the stuffed toy, he thought a month or so later on his walk home from the ADA. The thought brought an odd warm feeling to his chest, but he was swift to stomp the detested feeling back down into that part of himself he refused to acknowledge. He could accept his tiger, but he was not ready to face anything like that emotion. Then, something slammed into the side of his head. In an instant, Atsushi was knocked onto the sidewalk with his world swimming for a moment or two. In those moments, he laid there in a daze, forced to wait for his senses to return and the throbbing ache in his skull to die before he could finally stumble to his feet. When the pain stopped and he could bare to stand once again, the white-haired man looked around for what might've hit him in the head, but the only thing he found was a can of soda. A soda that, upon closer inspection, he found to be one of his favorites, which was weird enough, since usually his favorite soft drink doesn't fly at people's heads, but, no one was currently around to explain why an unopened, very dented can of his preferred soda was rolling around at his feet after knocking him on his ass like it had. He'd tried to look around, taking advantage of his improved night vision to try and spot anyone trying to hide from the blame for throwing it at him, but the street was currently sparse in other people in the area. However, after a moment of thinking, and examining the near-bursting can, it slowly dawned on the tiger who might've thrown it. Then, the date set in, bringing a stronger wave of hot embarrassment to his cheeks.           "Um?? T-thanks I guess?" he called out into the swiftly growing darkness, and then swiftly continued home, before the hiding goth caught sight of the way his cheeks tinged a small shade of pink or decided to come out to maul him for acknowledging him.
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flyingkiki · 3 years
Text
A Very Merry Christmas (1/4)
I've been working on this since December last year, in hopes of giving you a steamy Christmas. But life, anxiety, and the shitstorm of 2020 came in the way. But either way, I worked through this, got all chapters ready for some regular steamy #TimRae goodness. I'll post regularly so all chapters will be out soon. Enjoy this first steamy TimRae nugget, my loves!
Notes: Messed around with ages and timelines. I like Tim and Raven in a more adult setting, past their teenage years. Doesn’t strictly follow any universe, rather a mix of this and that. They're adults and Damian is still a pre-teen kid.
Part Two of my Vanilla Series. Because Tim is a k!nky boi, and we know it. Here's Part 1: Flavor: Vanilla.
~
Chapter 1
“How many estates does the Wayne family have?”
As they were driving up the icy road, Raven warily eyed the large house decked in a thick blanket of snow. When Tim mentioned they’d be spending Christmas week at the family vacation home, she certainly did not expect another mansion in the outskirts of Gotham, tucked away by a range of trees and lush snowy forest cover. She thought of a cottage by the forest – not an 8-bedroom and 10-bathroom monstrosity of a home. Raven blinked and looked out the window. Was that a tennis court she just saw?
“There are a few,” Tim chuckled and they neared his childhood home. He eyed the home fondly and shot Raven a brief smile. “This one is Bruce’s favorite. We spend a lot of holidays and summers here,”
Hard to imagine that in between all the vigilante and business work, and all the dysfunctional family disasters and ill-managed feelings, the Wayne’s somehow were still able to spend some time together as a family. Raven had quickly learned after the rift between Tim and the rest of the family with losing and finding Bruce in the time stream, and all the tension between all the siblings for one reason or another, Bruce (or likely Alfred) had made it more of a habit for the family to gather whenever possible. Over the years as they have grown older, old wounds have somewhat healed. Somewhat.
“I cannot picture Bruce Wayne as the fishing-by-the-lake kind of father,” Raven mumbled, absently eyeing the snowy white trees whizzing past them.
“He likes to take Damian the lake when the brat is out of school during summers,”
Raven hummed in acknowledgement and watched as they finally approached a security gate. They’ve been driving for hours and it came to a relief that she’d be finally be able to stretch her legs. But the idea of finally, officially, meeting the Wayne family “outside of work” unsettled her. Worry loomed in the pit of her stomach as they drove up the driveway of the large house made of intricate stonework, impossibly large windows, and aged wood. She inhaled softly, staring at the home muted by the thick blanket of snow. It was beautiful.
“Who drives a motorcycle in the middle of winter?” Raven frowned when they drove past a large motorcycle covered in snow carefully parked next to pine trees.
“Jason,” said Tim as they finally came to a stop under the car shed next to Bruce’s Bugatti. Who drives a Bugatti in the middle of a cold wave? Raven eyed the car.
“We’re here,” Tim announced. A blanket of silence dropped over them with only the soft noise of the engine filling the air, Tim allowed Raven to process their arrival. He watched as she stared out the car window, taking in the snowy garden.
After the Killer Croc incident and the discovery of the rather embarrassingly ill-placed hickey, the entire family assumed that he was seeing someone. For a period, Jason had been talking non-stop about Tim’s sex life (“Dude, you are a kinky piece of shit.”) and Bruce had dropped invitations to holiday and gala dinners, which Raven remained hesitant to attend. After a year of postponing dinners, they did finally decide to attend this Christmas getaway after Alfred told Tim “It would be nice to finally meet your partner, Master Tim. I would like to meet and thank her for taking care of you, my boy. It would be wonderful to get to know her,” he said. And that was that. No one declines Alfred.
It was a miracle that they kept the relationship under wraps for over a year now. Tim understood Raven’s need for privacy and her hesitation to meet Bruce. Some wounds still ran deep, no matter how long ago their first encounter was. The thought still left a bad taste in his mouth, the idea of a young Raven being turned down by the Justice League. He knew that there was still bad blood between her and Zatanna while Clark tried his best to make up for their hasty decisions over her. He watched Raven inhale softly and fiddle with one of the silver rings on her left finger. “Hey,” he said softly and reached out to touch her hand. Deep blue eyes stared back at him and he cracked a soft smile. “All good?”
Raven returned the small smile and tilted her head just a little bit. “You think very loudly,” she said and adjusted her hand in his so they could hold hands. Years ago, she’d shy away from this kind of contact. It was strange how time has changed her. She watched Tim’s smile brighten and she released a nervous breath she was holding. “Yeah, I’m good,”
Tim gave her hand an encouraging squeezing. “We don’t have to do this, you know?”
“I know,” Raven replied. “But I guess now is a good time as any,”
He gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. “It’s not like they don’t know you anyway,”
Raven snorted ungracefully and rolled her eyes. “I’ve spent more time with everyone in that house in masks and Kevlar than unmasked. I’m thrilled to see everyone in their silk PJs,” she said dryly.
“I guess now’s the best time to meet everybody unmasked,” Tim told her. He released her hand and turned to shut the engine. He turned back to her and smiled, grabbing her arm and gently tugging her towards him. He pressed a long kiss against her lips. “C’mon. Let’s go inside,”
They stepped out of Tim’s warm car and into the biting cold. It was mid-afternoon and it was already slowly getting dark, and everything was becoming colder. Raven made a face and pulled the grey bonnet over her ears and joined Tim by the trunk. They pulled out their duffle bags and slowly trekked towards the front doors of the mansion (calling the monstrosity of a house a cottage in the woods would seem insulting). Raven eyed the house in awe and apprehension.
Hurrying up the wooden stairs and stomping off the snow from their boots by the worn mat, Tim fished out his keys from his pants. Throwing her a curious look, he slid the silver key into the lock. “Ready?”
Raven made a face and her eyes momentarily slid towards one of the frosted windows, seeing warm light past the heavy curtains. “Not really,”
“Raven,” Tim breathed, eyes widening, and his hand stilled.
Raven rolled her eyes and gently nudged his shoulder. “I’m kidding. C’mon, I’m freezing, and I need to pee,” she whispered teasingly.
“Tease,” Tim grinned at her gasp as his cold nose pressed against her cheek for a quick peck. Turning back to the door, he unlocked it and quickly opened the heavy front door. As they entered the welcome warmth of the foyer, they were greeted by the familiar movie soundtrack of the Grinch. Removing their coats and leaving their bags for later, Tim led Raven towards the living room. “We’re here!” he announced.
“Timbo, in here!” They heard Dick from the other room over the noise of the Grinch followed by low muttering and scuffling. “Sit up, Jason! Don’t embarrass us in front of his girlfriend!”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dickface,”
“Hey guys,” Tim entered the large living room and found his whole family scattered across the ridiculously large leather sofa and carpeted floor. He felt Raven hesitate beside him before appearing next to him and Tim snorted at the collective response of shock and surprise from everyone.
“Hey Timbers – oh my fuck.”
“Master Jason, language!”
“Raven?!”
In hindsight, perhaps it was a bad idea for her to just join the family for their Christmas weekend as every single member of the Wayne family openly stared at Raven and Tim. Raven inhaled softly and took a step back as she felt the onslaught of emotions. She watched the open surprise cross Bruce face, and she quickly averted her gaze to Dick, who gaped at her like a fish. Yep, definitely not a good idea. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she felt out of place.
“Raven,”
She turned to Bruce again and she blinked as the man rose from his seat on the sofa, a rather ugly throw blanket slipping from his thighs. She quirked a nervous smile and breathed. “Hi,” she said. Blinking, she waved lamely. “I brought wine?”
“You and Tim?” Dick blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. How did his second-in-command start dating his younger brother? How did he even miss this? “How? When?” Dick blinked lamely. “Huh?”
“Raven!” a small lithe bundle of a soft green Christmas sweater bounded towards the couple and hugged Raven. “It’s you!”
“Hi Cass,” Raven chuckled and hugged the younger woman. Over Cass’s shoulder she and Tim exchanged small smiles. Raven always had a soft spot for Tim’s sister. Cass turned in Raven’s arms and eyed Tim with a playful look and nudged his shoulder. “You kept secret!”
“Sorry,” Tim laughed and waved his hands in defense.
“Perhaps Miss Raven and Master Tim would like to freshen up a bit before we have some afternoon tea? Or hot chocolate. I’d think that would be a great idea, don’t you think?” Alfred said this with an air of finality as he stood up and briefly glanced at his wards before turning to the couple and smiling kindly at them. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Raven.”
“Thanks, Alfred.” Raven smiled, tension leaving her shoulders. She pulled away from Cass and the girls gently squeezed hands.
Tim cleared his throat at the collective surprise still in the room. Bouncing on his heels, he turned to Raven. “Okay. Bathroom?” Raven nodded, relief flooding her face at the chance to escape the awkward introductions. Turning back to his flustered family, he rolled his eyes and absently took Raven’s hand. “We’ll be back. You guys get it together,” he told them before turning on his heels and gently tugging Raven back to the foyer.
Leaving the surprised family in the living room (“You guys better not get handsy up there” “Jasssssonn!”), Tim and Raven picked up their bags and made it to Tim’s old bedroom. Raven raised an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of old band posters on the wall.
“Bathroom’s over there,” Tim pointed toward the door in the corner that led to the private bathroom. Raven hummed in acknowledgement, still keyed up from all the emotions downstairs.
After puttering around in the bathroom and washing her face, Raven emerged from the rather ridiculously luxurious personal bathroom (she was definitely going to take a long, hot bath and put up some scented candles in there) and found Tim absently tinkering with an old laptop on his desk. Ignoring Tim, she walked around his old bedroom, taking in old books lined in a bookshelf. Finding some curious titles, she thought she might want to check out for later. She smiled and picked up an old Superman action figure. She moved to the wall that held a few of Tim’s old photographs. An old gritty photograph of Gotham Tower with the Bat Symbol illuminated behind it hung in the middle of an array of landscape photos.
“I took that when I was 9,” Tim said, joining her by the wall and pulling the old action figure of Clark out of her hands. They shared a smile as he waved Superman’s arms around lamely before dropping it back on the shelf.
“You haven’t done photography for some time,” Raven commented.
“Been busy. You know, saving Gotham, running a company, staying alive,” Tim smiled and watched as Raven quirked her lips in response. He watched her move around his old room in curiosity, taking in old trinkets and photos, eyeing books and posters, and smiling fondly at old memorabilia. He felt a warmth spread inside of him as he watched Raven, in her oversized grey kitten sweater, study parts of his old life. While life as a Wayne (and a Drake) was beyond messy, he realized that this – the sight of Raven gently pressed against the large windows of his old room watching snow gently fall into the garden – was something he wanted Raven to be a part of in his life and share more with her – mess and everything.
Raven looked over the shoulder, offering a rare smile at the gentle press of his warm emotions. “You’re on vacation now. Maybe we can walk around and take some photos,” she said. She watched Tim join her by the window and wrap an arm around her waist. He offered her a gentle smile. “I’d like that.”
“So,” Tim breathed, a warm lilt in his voice as he looked at her. “What do you think so far?”
Raven tilted her head and hummed. “Do you think they’d mind if I just spend my entire time here in this room?” she asked teasingly.
Tim laughed and squeezed her hip. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, her held her close and allowed his hand to slip underneath her sweater for another gentle squeeze. “As much as I’d like to keep you in my childhood bedroom, I don’t think Alfred would approve.” He mumbled into her hair.
Raven hummed and shifted in his arms, she looked over his shoulders at his ridiculously large bed and back up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “But there is so much we could do in here,” she said.
Tim laughed softly and pulled her closer to him, relishing the soft press of her against him. “Oh, believe me, I have plans for you,” he said against her cheek and grinned at her soft chuckle. He gave her hip a teasing squeeze before kissing her fully on the lips. He had missed her; they had not seen each other the last few weeks because of her off-earth mission. He had every intention of making sure they made up for lost time in his old bedroom.
Raven hummed against his lips before pulling away, a small smile playing on her lips. “Such loud dirty thoughts, Tim Wayne” she teased and gently nudged him away. Rolling her eyes at the guilty chuckle, she stepped out of his arms and brushed her hair back with her hands. “Do you think we should go back downstairs?”
“Yeah, let’s. I promise you that Alfred’s hot chocolate is to die for,” Tim said while leading her out of the bedroom.
If the rich chocolate smell was any indication, Alfred’s hot chocolate smelled divine. Raven blinked, trying to come to terms of the domesticity of the entire scene in front of her – Bruce Wayne, Batman, in comfortable house slippers and a grey sweater that probably cost more than what she made each month, carrying a tray of sugar cookies into the sitting room. The rest of his brood were gathered around a glass coffee table, with steaming porcelain mugs in their hands.
Cass perked up around her mug at the sight of Raven and Tim entering the room. She waved them over from where she sat curled up next to the table within easy reach of the cookies that Bruce just deposited on the table. “Come, sit!”
Bruce’s raised his eyebrows at the couple and he straightened. He looked at Tim for a brief moment before locking eyes with Raven. It momentarily startled him to see the woman in front of him, out of her uniform, a much older version of that young girl he had met so many years ago begging for their help. The memory unsettled him for a moment, a shift of emotions he was sure Raven caught as her head tilted just a fraction of an inch and she blinked. He smiled instead and placed the cookie tray on the table as she and Tim approach the group.
“Hi, Bruce,” Raven greeted Bruce, barely catching his mix of emotions and she smiled lightly up at the older man.
“Hello, Raven. It’s nice to have you with us.” Bruce eyes shift to towards Tim and he quirked an amused eyebrow. “It’s quite a Christmas surprise,”
“A rather pleasant one, if I may add,” pipped in Alfred as he appeared with a tray of more mugs of hot chocolate. He and Raven exchanged smiles. Raven always liked Alfred.
“Sit,” Cass grabbed Raven’s hand and tugged her towards the coffee table, obviously thrilled to have a girl in the house to spend time with. Raven smiled and allowed herself to be tugged to the floor next to Cass. She shared a quick amused glance at Tim before turning to the younger woman as she pressed a hot mug of chocolate into her hands. “Drink.”
“Thanks,” Raven smiled and folded her legs underneath her. The hot chocolate smelled delicious and the heat of the mug warmed her cold hands. She felt some of her tension slowly melt away.
“Why didn’t I know about you two!” Dick exclaimed from his perch on the loveseat. He sent hurt looks to both Raven and Tim. His blue eyes widened in realization. “So that’s where you run off to sometimes. You said you’re going to a museum!”
“To be fair, I did,” said Raven, sending Dick an amused look before taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. It was delicious. She hummed in approval and shared a small smile with Cass.
“Just with me most of the time,” Tim grinned at Dick after gabbing one of the mugs from the table and plopping down into the large sofa he shared with Bruce.
“Soooo,” Jason announced sounding terribly smug from where he was sprawled out over an overstuffed armchair. He lolled his head towards Raven and his green eyes shone with mischief. “It was you who gave Timbers that crotch hickey.”
“Jason!”
Dick coughed loudly into hot chocolate, chocking on one too many marshmallows. He did not need to know that. “Jason, damn it!”
“Language, boys!” Bruce sighed loudly and watched as Jason grinned smugly at Raven, their houseguest – Tim’s secret girlfriend. And thanks to Jason’s not so gentle reminder, said culprit of Tim’s large hickey he had the misfortune of seeing many months ago. He sunk into his seat in the sofa and mentally groaned at the terrible mental image. He really did not want anything to do with his sons’ sex lives. They were all adults, but still – Bruce sighed.
Of course. Trust Jason Todd to bring up sex. Ignoring Tim’s embarrassment and the heat that crept up her cheeks, Raven narrowed her eyes and stared back at an amused Jason waiting for her answer. “Yes.”
“Raven!” Dick whined.
Jason cackled and hot chocolate dangerously sloshed around in his expensive porcelain mug. “I like her!”
Bruce sighed and took another long drink of Alfred’s hot chocolate. He needed sugar. Thank god Damian was out walking Titus, he definitely did not need his 13-year-old son to hear about Tim’s sex life. Or hearing it confirmed by Raven.
As if on cue, the front door opened and Damian announced his arrival. There was quiet shuffling in the background and a distinct bark before the Damian’s monstrosity of a dog came bounding into the room followed by his youngest son. Damian blinked in confusion at the sight of Raven talking to Cass, obviously wondering what the Titan was doing here. Titus on the other hand stood at attention at the sight of the newcomer and barked briefly at Raven, gaining her attention, before lying down a few feet away from her and watching her cautiously with a loud whine.
“Is there a mission?” asked Damian, eyeing Raven quizzically before turning to Dick and then to Bruce.
Jason snorted and swung his socked feet over the armrest. Taking a rather dangerous sip of his hot chocolate from his precarious position on the armchair, he grinned in amusement at the little brat. “Please meet Timmy’s girlfriend,” he said dramatically, theatrically waiving at Raven with his mug.
Damian eyes widened briefly before shooting Tim a quick glance and turning to a mildly amused Raven. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her dryly.
“Hey!”
Raven chuckled softly. She shared an amused smile with an indignant Tim before turning back to an unfazed Damian. He stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do. They had rarely interacted outside of missions, the boy had held her at arm’s length at times – probably because of whatever knowledge he had of her from his grandfather and the League. Though she wouldn’t blame him, she’d hold herself at arm’s length too. She titled her head, the corner of her lips quirking slightly as she sensed the young boy’s unsure emotions. “It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” she said.
Damian blinked. His gaze shifted back to Tim, who was watching him intently. Turning back to Raven, he stiffly nodded. “Welcome to our home,” he replied automatically.
“Such an exciting welcome wagon you are,” Jason said dryly, shooting the short boy a teasing smirk while helping himself to another mug of hot chocolate.
“Dami have some hot chocolate,” Dick beckoned Damian towards the coffee table as he heaped another healthy spoonful of marshmallows into his mug. Raven always wondered how Dick’s sugar levels seemed to do so well during Cyborg’s annual physicals.
While Damian busied himself in pouring his own mug, Dick looked curiously at Raven and Tim, watching in astonishment as Raven handed over her phone for Tim to keep as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to Cass. He watched Tim stuff the device into his pocket and Dick blinked – it was so odd to see Raven allow such simple intimate acts around her. When Gar tried to even touch her phone, he would be blasted off the roof. He pulled himself out of his reverie as Damian unceremoniously plopped down next to him and Dick nearly spilled his drink. Catching Raven’s eyes, Dick smiled brightly, and pressed on with their earlier conversation. “So, when did this start?” he asked.
“Oh,” Tim breathed. He watched as Raven looked over her shoulder to catch his stare. Turning back to Dick, he tapped his mug thoughtfully, wondering just how much they should get into detail. “Remember that mission in Lisbon?” he asked.
Dick’s eyebrows furrowed remembering the Titan’s mission of taking on that inter-galactic firearm smuggling ring led by Slade. There was a lot of fighting, shooting, and blood. They had Red Robin join to help Cyborg hack into the several space stations and track local smuggling movements. His eyes widened at he stared at Tim. “What? That was over a year ago. I was there. You two got into arguments!” he accused. He turned to Raven with a bewildered look, feeling utterly confused. “You said his plan was, I quote, ‘fiery hot mess’ and he was stupid beyond belief.” Jason released a bark of laughter in the background.
Raven shrugged dismissively. “It was. He is.”
“No, reckless. The word was reckless.” Tim tutted.
Raven rolled her eyes. “And still stupid. You got shot.”
“Still took down the entire operation.” Tim grinned and they shared a small private smile. Turning back to Dick, he offered an easy shrug, as if everything explained for itself. “Asked Raven out on a date once we all got back and recovered from blood loss.”
Dick gaped at them, still thoroughly confused. “That was 18 months ago. How? All this time –?”
Damian sighed loudly looking rather bored. “Your detective skills are rather disappointing, Richard, if you failed to take notice for the last 18 months,” he said. Dick made a disgruntled sound next to him.
“I’m happy!” Cass announced nudging Raven and the two shared a smile. Raven felt herself relax, as an easy conversation fell on the group and everyone continued to tease Dick for his terrible situational awareness skills. She chuckled at a joke Jason threw at Dick and looked over at Bruce, who remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. She caught his eye briefly and felt whatever tension that was left in her leave as the two shared a rather brief smile.
Dinner was a chaotic affair as promised with Jason and Damian, and on occasion Tim, getting into arguments and Dick trying to placate the situation. Though it was not like Raven was not used to the chaos, after living with Victor and Garfield, and Jinx, for so long. Tim had agreed that he and Raven would help Alfred in his baking tomorrow. When Cass was not busy talking to Raven, she’d endlessly tease Tim or Jason for one thing or the other. Bruce looked over his children occasionally trying to break up arguments or admonish Jason for his cursing. It was a surprising sight, to see this different side of Batman, and it threw Raven into a loop. It was admittedly nice, despite her initial apprehensions, to meet everyone outside of their Kevlar and masks.
“So?” asked Tim later that evening as he appeared from the bathroom barefoot in nothing but his sweatpants. Raven looked up from reading an old philosophy book. She watched Tim towel his wet hair as he approached the bed. Closing the book, she allowed a small smile to play on her lips as she watched him approach, appreciating as the defined muscles rippled with each movement. Tim’s work with his bo staff does wonders – not that it was something she’d openly admit. She caught his amused emotions as he sat down on his side of the bed, catching her stare. “What do you think of today?” he asked her, reaching out and affectionately squeezing her calf.
“It was alright,” Raven replied, placing the book on the bedside table. She turned to Tim and watched him haphazardly throw his used towel onto the nearby office chair. “I’ll pick it up, I promise,” he chuckled as she rolled her eyes. Tim turned off his bedside lamp, engulfing them in the soft light from Raven’s lamp. Climbing into bed next to her, he turned to his side and propped his head on his left hand. “Was it?” he probed.
Raven sighed and sunk into bed next to him. She looked up at him as Tim gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s different,” she admitted. “I’m still getting used to the idea of seeing Batman in Armani lounge wear.” Tim snorted ungracefully. “It’ll take some time adjusting to all these emotions from everyone. But it’s nice to meet your family outside of work. Thank you for you bringing me here to meet them,” she told him.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to share this with you. It’s a bit messy and chaotic, but it’s family. I’m happy you’re here,” said Tim gently. He offered her a small smile and grabbed her left hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry if everything is a bit overwhelming. We can always go home when you want to,”
“I know. Thank you.” Raven replied and tugged Tim towards her, allowing him into her space and wrapped his arms around her. She did not realize her emotions were so keyed up until now. Her emotions settled at the familiar press of Tim’s body and the warm press of his emotions against hers. She felt one of his hands slip under her camisole and fingers fanned against the small of her back. She sighed contently and melted into the embrace. She felt a mumbled “I love you” and a kiss against her forehead and she smiled, fingers curling around Tim’s bicep. She hummed and pressed forward, clumsily kissing Tim on the cheek. “I love you too,” she whispered, a little breathless. It often amazed her as she found herself saying these words, three words she thought she’d never say intimately to anyone. Strange how Tim seemed to have easily settled into her life.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently relishing the intimate moment between them. Raven quickly learned into the relationship how much Tim enjoyed giving and receiving affection, a result from his own demons of the past. Giving affection so openly was something she gradually learned to do over time. Tim had a way of helping her learn and grow over the year.
She felt Tim shift and before she could acknowledge his change of emotions, she yelped softly as his leg slipped between hers and his foot brushed against her own. “Cold feet!” Raven gasped, trying to jerk her feet away as Tim wrapped his feet around her and pulled her against his chuckling chest.
“Share some body heat,” Tim chuckled against her hair and his legs held her own in place. He shifted again, enjoying the gentle press of her curves against him. Slipping his thigh just a little bit higher between her legs, he smiled as Raven shifted towards him, her thigh brushing against his own.
“I know what you’re doing,” there was an amused lilt in her voice. She could feel the hard press of him against her hip and she canted her hips just a little bit to brush against him. Raven hummed at Tim’s soft sigh.
“I know that there’s a no powers rule in this house,” Tim mumbled and his hand slipped over the curve of her ass and gently squeezed. He heard Raven hum against his chest. He felt her lean up and kiss the hallow of his neck. He bit back a groan as Raven shifted, deliberately brushing up against him. He squeezed her tightly, amused at her teasing. “But,” he breathed and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Do you think you could cast a silencing spell in this room or something?”
“Oh?” Raven breathed, look up at Tim in amusement. Her eyes danced in delight as nimble fingers slid under her shirt again and traced her spine. “What for?”
“Well,” whispered Tim and nudged her up to get her face closer to his. He grinned impishly at her amused face and briefly tipped forward to languidly kiss her, relishing the needy press of her lips and tongue against his own. Pulling away, he chuckled at the soft whine of protest and leaned forward to briefly kiss the crook of her neck before leaning into her ear. “I really don’t want anyone in this house to hear what’s about to happen in my childhood bedroom,”
An excited thrill ran down her back and Raven felt heat pool low in her stomach. “Oh?” she whispered catching the wolfish smile on Tim’s lips. She draped her right hand over Tim’s bare shoulder as he turned and pressed her into the mattress. Her fingers tingled with magic, spell ready at her fingertips, as she teasingly traced a protruding scar on his deltoid. “What’s going to happen?”
Tim clucked his tongue catching the teasing glint in her eyes. “I’ll have to show you then.”
Raven just had about enough sense and time to release the spell from her fingertips just as Tim’s fingers easily slipped underneath her pajama bottoms and inter sleek, hot heat. Legs spreading instantly, back arching, and jaw dropping at the delicious friction, Raven gasped loudly.
“TIM!”
Raven released a breathy gasp as fingers moved slowly into her. The rhythm slick wet noise of Tim’s fingers driving into her at a steady pace had heat pooling low in her abdomen and her legs quivered in anticipation. His fingers steadily increased their speed, drawing out long whines and soft moans from her.
Despite the cool Christmas air, she felt her skin warm as heat shot through her body. She felt Tim’s heady press of desire as he kissed the pulse point of her neck and teeth gently scraped against her sensitive skin. Raven whimpered as she felt him push and prod against the bundle of nerves, her hips gently thrusting against his fingers chasing for release. She felt herself so close to tumbling over the edge.
“Shhh,” Tim whispered teasingly, hooded eyes drinking in her undone state. Nipping the underside of her chin, he listened to her release another breathy whimper as he continued his steady ministration into her sleek heat. Over her gasps and groans, he could hear the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her. His cock twitched in anticipation. “The others might hear you,” he teased, watching as she gasped and bucked into his hand. They were lucky she cast the silencing spell as Raven whimpered and fluttered around his fingers, release just a few strokes away.
“Please,” Raven herself tumbling towards the edge as her body quivered and she greedily devoured Tim’s lust and desires press into her. She whimpered as she felt him kiss her collar bone before pulling the strap of her camisole down to expose her right breast. She gasped and groaned as his tongue flittered around her nipple before teeth and tongue eagerly engulfed the sensitive bud.
With a nip to her nipple and a few more fast, measured thrusts of his fingers, Tim watched as Raven released a strangled cry and came totally undone. Drawing out her orgasm, his fingers curled and pumped into her fluttering heat, helping her tumble down the cliff.
Raven’s back arched off their bed as her world exploded and she continued to buck into Tim’s hand, riding out the high and soaring through an explosion of colors and sounds. She gasped and whimpered, fingers curling into his bicep to help ground her and gain some control.
Their movements slowed and Tim pressed a warm kiss against her cheek, watching as Raven slowly returned from her high. Pulling his fingers out of her, he watched as Raven whimpered and writhed at the loss of contact.
“Fuck,” Raven breathed, as her senses returned, and she lazily lolled her head towards Tim watching him pull his fingers out of her. Tim hummed thoughtfully, his gaze dropping from her rumpled pajama bottoms to his soaked fingers before licking her sticky juices from his fingers. Raven released another whimper as desire and heat seemed to flare low in her abdomen again as she watched him eagerly lap up her cum from his fingers. Fucking hell, the thought of their total debauchery in her Wayne manor a distant memory.
Pausing with his careful licking, Tim hummed and smiled at her. Drinking in her disheveled look, he leaned over her again and relished the beautiful release of pressing his straining cock against her hip. Rocking into her, Tim pressed a kiss onto her cheek. “We should have a Kinky Christmas,” he whispered and teasingly hooked his fingers into her pajama bottoms and underwear, nudging them down slowly.
Raven released a breathy laugh but found herself nodding. She felt Tim tug her pajama bottoms off her with a few more tugs and pulls of hands and feet. “Give Jason more things to tease us about?”
Tim clucked and chuckled, pressing another kiss into the hallow of her neck and listening to her breathy intake of breath. He quickly removed his own pants, sighing as his member sprang free and brushed against her thigh. “We got the silencing spell up,” he said while pushing her legs apart and settling in between them. They groaned as his member brushed against her core. “This will be our little Kinky Christmas celebration,”
Raven hummed, hands draping over his shoulders as she eagerly rocked into his hips in anticipation. The room was stifling, and she wanted so, so much more. Drinking in his heated stare, Raven gave him languid smile, and spread her legs just a little bit more.
“Then let the festivities begin,”
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