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momoshin · 3 years

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wrapped in lace — ryujin

you’d think coming home after long hours of running and making content would knock the two of you right out. but you were hoping it did just the opposite, you made sure the car driving you and the girls gets there first, needing to make sure everything was still in place from how you left it before starting your day (and to be able to change into what you had planned) ryujin gets home with the others as soon as you sit down to take a breath. they all know what you have planned, they’re just here for support before they smoothly make an exit.

“you guys got here fast” ryujin points it out and kisses your lips hello like she hadn’t just done that before going into the separate cars (which she complained about for half an hour). she hands you a smoothie, and you quickly notice she’s the other only member with one in her hands.

“ryujin you literally spent twenty minutes thinking of what smoothie to get your girlfriend” yuna rolls her eyes, making the other four laugh at the birthday girl who slightly blushes and shrugs.

“oooooh” lia cheers, interrupting your girlfriend’s soft, sort of questioning stare at you and causing the two of you to look at her, also catching the other three peeking in the room, yuna trying to squeeze her way in between the unnies. “actually we’re going to go eat, call us if you want anything, have funnn”

and just like that, the door is closed. you can hear their steps and what yuna thought was whispers ‘that’s so romantic!!’ ‘ryujin unnie’s probably going to cry’ ‘when did y/n unnie have the time to do all of that?’ that just caused a smile to break into your lips.

“when did you do all of this?” her jaw is open so wide, she’s going to catch flies soon.

“i can’t tell you my secrets” you scoff, a warm, loving smile on your lips as you approached her and dared to wrap your arms around her waist after taking her cross body and setting it on the floor. “do you like it?”

“i love it” she pecks your lips a couple of times, and through all of them you can easily feel the smile that she displayed because of the surprise “can we open presents now?”

“yes baby” the way her voice sounded like an excited kid on christmas morning, and her eyes were so bright, her smile? it melts your heart and you find yourself feeling more love for her than you thought possible.

it’s all pure from there. her pure gasps and smiles or even giggles every times she opens a present and remembers you asking detailed yet questions vague enough for her to not have a clue of the reason behind it.

“where’s the button?” you’ve found yourselves messing around with the new film camera, your girlfriend too excited to leave it for tomorrow like she would’ve said to hide how much she wanted to play with it.

“it says here-“ you begin to read the manual of instructions, and it only takes you a few seconds in to see the blinding light of the flash. “ryujin!”

“found it” she smiles, the two of you giggling softly in the moment. “im keeping this” she smiles, looking at the developing picture of you in what she thinks is your prettiest version, “thank you baby” it's a little muffled against your lips that she keeps kissing and pecking in hopes it helps her express how grateful she is.

"i have one more gift for you" your words too are muffled against her lips, and as soon as she sits back up you look for the red bow you had placed somewhere around the room and stick it right on the top of your head "ta-da"

"oh?" she smiles, opening her arms for you to walk into. she watches you put up your finger as if telling her to wait for you, and undo the zipper of your jacket, letting her catch the red, delicate lace adorning your body. "oh" she's in utter shock, like she hasn't ever seen you like this even though it's a regular occurrence "c'mere, please"

the bow inevitably falls off your head when she pulls you to her by the waist, running her hands all over your body, drinking you in. "is this new?"

"mhm" your hand wraps around the back of her head, keeping eye contact with her as she presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy that wasn't covered by the lingerie set "got it just for today"

"well. i love it" she smiles "almost want to fuck you in it"

"who said you'd be doing the fucking?" your hands cup her face and bring it up to look at you, thumbs grazing against her lips, her pretty, pink lips that you loved so much "lay down for me?"

she trusts you enough to just go with it, and you easily move the gifts from the bed to the night stand. so she had more space in the bed and nothing broke. your hands run all over her uncovered torso by her crop top, and soon, you found your hands kneading and squeezing at her tits. hums and whispers coming out of her lips.

your legs move on their own to get you in bed, between her legs so your hands could do their thing and undo her jeans, her chuckle when you peck her stomach just like she did yours a few minutes ago rings in your ears beautifully. reminding you how lucky you are to have her, that she’s yours and you’re hers.

“i love you” you whisper against her lips when you’ve come back up, sitting on her lap with your hands on the end of her shirt to slowly remove it. “like, i’m in love with you ryujin” you stop your kisses to look at her, look for a reaction. she takes time. to control her breathing and process the words that had just come out of your mouth, her eyes are glossy and her hand runs through your hair gently.

“i’m in love with you too” she whispers after what feels like has been forever, but only has been seconds. her voice is so small and broken, she is so in love with you, it hurts her to think about it.. everything about you makes her feel in heaven.

your smile is so big though, you weren’t expecting her to not say it back, but it felt good to actually hear it. her lips find yours now, and the kiss starts so soft, slow, telling each how much you felt for the other, and its like that for some time, tongues dancing and all. but then her hands start going down to your ass, and you don’t have it in you to stay put when she moves your hips for you, her naked thighs rubbing against your clothed core in delicious ways.

“don’t take it off” she whispers as soon as she sees you sit up in her lap, and her fingers soon loop around the flimsy, tiny part covering your crotch. she thinks about putting it to the side and just watching like this, but then again something about using her strength on or for you makes her feel in control, so she does just that. tears it right off of you.

“ryujin?!” you whine. hands on her naked shoulders as you stare at your thong in her fingers.

“don’t make me gag you with it” she spits, and at the sound of her voice so deep; you whimper, specially when she runs her thumb up and down your clit, eliciting a few gasps out of you too. you try to, with all your inner strength, pull away from her hand, but instead position yourself so your legs could cross with hers. your cunts both fitting together like puzzle pieces. “fuck”

she’s been under you many times before. but the sight before you is so different from those times, she’s biting her lip, eyes half closed, her nipples perked up already, hands on your waist to control you moving, she’s groaning and grunting in such sinful ways too, making you wetter than before and easier for the two of you to move.

she’s closed her eyes when you, still riding her, stretch your arm enough to take the new camera in your hands, she doesn’t even open her eyes when you put a hand on her stomach in a more possesive way than anything, she only does so when she hears the click of the camera shooting the sight in front of it: your cunt glued to hers, your hand spread on her toned abdomen as if to tell anyone who saw the lewd image that she was yours.

she bites her lips at her own sight, you on top, the red lace that she’d yet to rip off your body hugging you so beautifully, your hair down your shoulders and back, you waiting for the polaroid to develop with your teeth digging into your bottom lip. but most importantly the sight of your pussy against hers. the noises you two made, how it felt. she feels dizzy already.

“you better not show that to anyone. specially the girls” she warns, her legs opening wider to give you more space for an advantage of getting the perfect angle between the two of you “fffuck, do that again”

“that?” she wonders if this is how you feel when she starts getting cocky. because you certainly are as you roll your hips over and over again like you had for the few last seconds. you don’t stop asking until she groans out a yes, fingers so tight around the skin of your hips that you were worried she was going to bruise you. “and i don’t know. i think jisu unnie might find it hot, don’t you?”

suddenly, you feel her breath so much closer to your lips than you remember her being, your covered nipples against her naked, hard ones, her hand fully tangled in your hair, pulling well enough to make you hiss and whimper into her lips “im not playing with you y/n” she groans “anyone else sees your pussy and it’s over for you”

“what are you gonna do?” you’re teasing her with your smile, and she hates it so much. how can you be so brave when she’s got you so vulnerable right on her cunt??

“you don’t want to find out.” her hand wraps around you to slap your ass so, so hard, you’re worried for her hand. “why are you being such a whore right now, am i not enough for you?” you’re not responding, just looking at her with your brattiest expression and hoping it pisses her off. not enough for this tight pussy?” she draws a gasp from you when she says the words ‘tight pussy’ because at that same time she’s pushed a finger into you from behind

she smiles against your lips when you muffle something against hers, not finding in you to make actual words and sentences.

“what’s that princess? i didn’t quite catch it” she smirks, kissing your lips and nose so soft as if she didn’t have a whole finger inside you at the same time

“im kidding. im sorry. im sorry” your eyes are shut closed, your clit throbbing and so is your head from all the sensations you’re experiencing right now.

“you’re so easy to handle” she chuckles. not meant to be endearing at all but degrading. “make me cum baby, fuck yourself on my fingers and make me cum. can you do that for me?” she pushes two more inside you just in time.

“yes. yes i can. yes.” you moan and shake when trying to lift yourself off her chest, and she takes the opportunity with the hand that wasn’t inside you, to free your tits out of the lace holding them away from her. you maneuver your hips to be able to sit on her fingers fully, all three of them buried to the hilt, but to be able to rub her clit with yours when you thrust back up.

“so good for me baby.” your girlfriend kisses from your jaw, to your neck, to your chest, always leaving bites soft enough to not mark any part of you. she watches you all along, loving the way small gasps, whimpers and moans all escape your lips that couldnt seem to close unlike your eyes. your eyes had been shut tight for a few minutes now, not being able to look anywhere or even at her.

the heat in your stomach starts growing, but you can’t and won’t cum without her. even if it meant holding it for however long you needed to. “are you close daddy?”

“yeah baby, almost there” ryujin kisses your sweaty cheeks and lifts her head up as much as she can to kiss your swollen lips. “you can cum, you have my permission” she brushes your hair out of your face with her free hand, pecking your lips once again as she watches your face contort in pleasure

“i w-wanna wait for y-you” you return her kisses as you can, in your vulnerable state. and she keeps grunting and moaning against your lips and even going so far as to lift her hips against yours because she just wants to see and feel you shaking on top of her so bad. so bad. “please. please.”

“go ahead princess, cum.., ff-fuck-k im c-cumming-h” her eyes roll to the back of her head, your highs are so hard that you can almost hear ringing in your ears. and the few seconds that you have over her as she still handles her orgasm, you use to kiss all over her jaw and cheeks while still rolling your hips against her.

“happy birthday baby” you whisper after a long while of the two of you looking at each other in silence and attempting to regain your breath, it causes her to giggle and cover her face with her hand at the thought of the two of you engaging in such filthy activities a few minutes ago and you being so soft and loving right after

“thank you my love, for everything” one of her hands runs her nails up and down your back as she watches you blush and smile at her. “how much time do we have left?”

“like an hour max” you whisper after looking at the alarm clock on her nightstand. “why”

“there’s one more thing i want to try”

#gif credits; ryudaeng #itzy smut #kpop smut #my stuff #itzy imagine #itzy imagines #ryujin smut #ryujin x reader #happy ryujin day :)

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sebbybooks · 3 years

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Wreck My Daydream

Part Two

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

18+

Tagged🎄

@wayward-mikaelson

Cataglottism

(n.) kissing with tongue

I’m already wet and Sebastian barely even touched me.

I hardly gave myself a moment to be ashamed or even stir in the crass words I was using even if I had only thought them. Like a diary I suppose there was no need to lie to myself considering it was one hundred percent true. I, Nellie Lennox, was unabashedly met with unending desires that washed away my trepidations that led up to this moment.

In its place I felt this newfound sense of possibilities that I wasn’t actually making an ass out of myself with my sudden confession of feelings for Sebastian. In my defense I didn’t just wake up one morning after having some epiphany as to why I wanted to be with him. The thought of us together made itself at home in the back of my mind.

Almost like a what if. . .

However, I couldn’t help but be terrified of all the ways it could go wrong. What if I had made things weird between us forcing us apart? Life would be a bitter existence if Sebastian wasn’t around in some capacity. For the longest time I tried to find him in different relationships. It is a messed up philosophy, but it almost worked. Whenever things would get too serious it nearly terrified me. I was their someday and they were my maybe. I owed this last relationship that is still so freshly cut more than that.

I owed myself that.

On the unique and rare chance I somehow got lost in a very realistic maladaptive daydream, I’m pretty certain Sebastian wants this too. Just thinking about what he had told me seconds ago made my heartbeat drum to a dizzy rhythm. Imagining myself getting fucked to the beat of it was a completely different type of sensation.

Retraining my focus on the now I could see it in Sebastian’s face all the wheels going around in his head. Confusion? Uncertainty? Regret?

“You don’t get to do that.” I tell him. I felt like I was going to climb out of my own skin if he left me suspended in the silence for a second longer. Sebastian tipped his face closer to mine, our lips gingerly brushing against each other. Perhaps he was feeling ambivalent in regards of his feelings for me? After all this was sprung on him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian shook his head as if he was at war with himself. “I want to.” His voice was strained and dangerously low, like something was causing him utter misery being this close, yet not knowing exactly when to pull away.

“Then why don’t you.” I dared him.

I was growing impatient with this slow burn we had somehow started. I wanted to play with this fire. If I got burned in the end by his touch then so be it. At least I would forever be marked with a reminder of knowing that I at least went after something I wanted with no apology. I wanted to see how far he was willingly to go.

Sebastian removed his hand from the security of being wrapped around me. I feigned a disappointed sigh at the lack of contact. My entire body must have been on autopilot , because I didn’t recognize the position I was in. I practically sat in his lap with one leg wrapped around him and the other one mindlessly dangling over the bed. Of course the mind reader that Sebastian was naturally grabbed ahold of the side of my thigh and wrapped it around his back.

It wasn’t like I was naive to sex or never had my fair share of romantic conquest. Regardless of my experiences I still felt like a gigantic ball of nerves. The way he stared down at me with a heated look in his eyes as if he wanted to posses every inch of me. Hell, I felt like I could come undone from that alone.

The hand that was planted on my back slowly drifted downward trailing the curve of my backside gripping my ass through my thinly silk hunter green shorts that matched the top. Earlier I had berated myself for wearing scantly clad pajamas to bed. Now I am thanking my lucky stars I opted out of the option of wearing a red Christmas onesie that had polar bears wearing scarfs around their necks. They were ones my mother insisted the whole family wear.

If I had I probably would not have been able to feel his erection that was restrained in his sweatpants. Trying to situate myself closer I rocked into him slightly, massaging myself on him. My ears didn’t miss the subtle groan Sebastian let out from the feel of my weight pressing further into him.

His silence wasn’t lost on me and he still hadn’t answered my question so I did it again. I wanted him to say something. My nervousness abated at this point. I twined my arms around his neck, grinding myself against him again and again. All the while Sebastian watched my every movement with a hint of a star struck look in his eyes. The feeling was certainly mutual I was even shocking myself at my behavior.

“Nellie,” Sebastian finally says, voice husky. He usually only ever calls me by my nickname so I was more than sure that he was not fully himself.

“I’m a big girl Sebastian I can handle whatever you need to say.” I tell him, holding in my breath.

“Alright,” he said with uncertainty. “You and me, this, it’s not a good idea.” His tone was barely audible and even more so he sounded hurt. Everything in me froze.

“And why is that?” I asked him more confused than ever. Suddenly feeling absolutely self conscious as I over analyzed every intimate word I just shared with him. I was even more horrified by the fact that I was dry humping my best friend.

He let out a darkly laugh. “It’s pretty damn obvious Nells.” Sebastian says rather ominously.

“...It’s not actually.” For someone that wants nothing out of this, Sebastian was holding on to me like an anchor and I on the other hand just wanted to get away and sink.

Admittedly, I was losing this game of tug a war. There was only so much I was willing to endure even I had my limits. “You’re giving me whiplash Sebastian .” I tell him honestly, “ I’m not like those other girls you go for that are satisfied with you just dangling yourself in front of them like a piece of cake that I can’t have. I meant what I said when I told you I didn’t say it just to hear you say the same.” My voice could only rise so high in pitch.

I definitely didn’t want to wake up the upstairs guest that would love nothing more than to recap this conversation over breakfast. Then like an unexpected bolt of lighting startling you from a distance, Sebastian kissed me.

Sebastian

I am a selfish bastard.

My mind fell quiet when I looked at her. I wanted to swim in the serenity and peacefulness that was this smart, vibrant, sexy, and uniqueness this woman possessed. I only wondered even in the darkness could Nellie see my eyes as plainly as I can see hers. If so could she see the shame reflecting in them? I could feel the nagging weight of my conscience siting on both of my shoulders, arguing back and forth over what I should and shouldn’t do. It was kind of ironic that the devil in my ear insisted that I give in to the angel in my lap.

God knows I waited for her and that I would keep waiting if I had to in this lifetime or the next. It was always going to be Nellie for me. I wanted to tell her all of this, but the longer I held on to this slice of heaven I was given during this random hour. I also knew that this moment was fleeting. I basked in the way she looked at me, the way she held on to me like I was an object of virtue. I also got a sample of what it would be like to lose her the second she began to slip away on her own accord. So, I did what any poor fool would do in my position. I kissed her.

It wasn’t exactly suave or how I imagined it would go. My mouth sort of crushed against her unmoving lips in a rushed and unskilled manner. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, I certainly could do a hell of a lot better than this. An yet, it was still like I predicted it would be, filled with pure unadulterated pleasure. Nellie’s lips were sweet and warm, exactly how I imagined forbidden fruit to taste like.

A perfect mixture of firm and softness that drove me wild. She flattened her hands on my bare chest as if to brace herself. Nellie pushed herself away, but her face was still so close to me. She didn’t speak and neither could I. I forced myself to look up at her and hoped that she could see I would do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness. That it was a mistake I will make right somehow.

“Nell,” I let out an exasperated breath. “ I have a need for you that goes deeper than just lust and I know that it will never truly be sated. The killer thing is I’m already at risk of losing you before I even had you.”

Nellie stared hazily up at me.“You already have me.” She whispered, our lips still grazing. Those four simple words set off a firework in me. This time when I kissed her our mouths came together like we needed to feed off of each other’s oxygen in order to survive. I’d suffer if I didn’t have it.

My mouth was greedy for hers, and I could imagine she felt the same. The moment I felt her lips slightly part open to let me in, less than a second our tongues slid together in a torrid and sensually slow pace. We kissed like a couple of eager teenagers. My heart threatened to leap from my chest when the tip of Nell’s tongue moved across my bottom lip. She tastes like gingerbread , mixed with some other divine flavor that I can only assume is Nellie. She arched herself closer into my chest and I could feel the points of her hardened nipples through her top. I seized the opportunity to press her body close because I needed more.

I wanted to feel the heat of her soft skin on mine. She returned her arms back around my neck tightly holding me in place as she angled her head kissing me back with the same ferocity. Deeply, and oh so thoroughly by the way she sucked on my tongue. I had a rough grip on her ass keeping Nellie steady as she straddled me. I was so damn hard for her. If my dick could get even harder it was bound to. Nellie did that thing again where she grinds down on my erection and I cursed at myself to not combust. I grabbed ahold of her hips guiding her to move faster, harder.

I kept telling myself to savor her, fucking take my time with this moment. I couldn’t just rip those tiny little shorts off and sink myself into her over and over until we’ve both had enough. But even then I would always need more of her. I wasn't a sentimental man, with Nellie I at least wanted to try. I wanted my first night with Nell to be a little less spontaneous than this. It wasn’t like I came prepared for festivities filled with endless fucks. Plus the added fact I couldn’t let things get too carried away especially since she still didn’t know what I have done.

Yeah, I am a very selfish bastard.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted my mouth to explore every single part of Nellie. I wanted the taste of her to live on my tongue. I wanted to go as far as she and my consciousness would allow me.

“I need to touch you.” I panted, between every nip and kiss I left on the delicate area of skin under her jaw.

“You’re already touching me.” She says with a soft laugh, which was a melody to my ears. I was but at the same time I wasn’t. I needed to rid Nellie of any barrier that prevented me from branding her skin with my touch.

“This…off.” I tug gently on the bottom of her tank top before returning my hands to rest on her thighs, caressing them as I sucked on her neck for dear life. Going back and forth between grazing her neck with my teeth then licking over the area to soothe any imprint I’ve left.

Nellie crisscrossed her arms reaching for the hem of her top gracefully pulling it over her head. She purposely fell backwards onto the mattress aiming her shirt at my face. For as long as I’ve known Nell she was never one to be shy in her own skin.

“Imagine how unsexy that would have been if I hit my head on the headboard.”

“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself I would have just pretended that I didn’t see a thing.” I teased.

“Ah, to think they wonder where all of the good men have gone.” Nell scrunched up her nose pretending to be lost in critical thought.

I cock my head to the side. “Mm-hmm. Are you mocking me?”

“What if I am?”Her plump wet lips spread into a smile.

It was miracle I caught a word of what she said to me. I swallowed a groan as my eyes drift over the area of her body that was naked from the waist up. Nellie was clearly a stolen painting from the Louvre that I had no intention of returning. All I could do was stare.

With her legs still draped around me, my hands slide up the curve of her torso passing her ribs. I sensed that she was watching me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her just yet. The pads of my fingers traced over to her breast and my mouth practically watered at the sight of them. She was ethereal.

“Don’t suddenly go mute on me Sebastian.” She let out a shaky breath.

I’ve heard her say my name a thousand times. Hearing her say it in this state created a feeling of warmth that filled my chest. I could only begin to imagine the different ways I wanted to hear her call out my name. My gift, my best friend, my Nellie. Those last words had a sting to them even as I thought them. Deep down I knew that was never going to be true.

I eased all the way down my tongue traveling around the dip of her navel. Creating a path up the center of her abdomen. I knew that Nell was extremely ticklish. The slightest form of contact would automatically turn her into a ninja. From the way she was pressing herself back into the mattress I knew she was trying her hardest not to flee. Of course I found it rather enticing so I made sure to spend extra time over the areas of her exposed skin I knew to be the most sensitive. Brushing the tip of my nose between her breast my mouth finally latched on to what I’ve been waiting for.

“So fucking beautiful.” I say as I graze my mouth over the stiff peak of her nipple. I was in awe over the ability that they simultaneously could feel hard yet felt extremely soft. I dragged the tip of my tongue around the bud of it in a languid movement before sucking it in deep. I loved listening to the sounds she made while I sucked and devoured as much as I could fit into my mouth. I wanted to hear a symphony of the noises that escaped from Nellie.

Going for one after the other not wanting to miss out on either. Nellie kept a limp hand pressed into my hair keeping me close as if I dared to stop.

Writhing underneath me Nellie gasped,“Touch me.”

Now she understood what I meant. My own body felt betrayed by my decision. I literally ached from pain and pleasure. Truthfully I wouldn’t opt for a better scenario than this. I would be more than gratified with giving Nellie an orgasm or two.

Still leaving featherlight kisses across her chest. With one hand I reach down and brushed along the dip of Nellie’s hip, then began to tug away at her shorts. To my surprise she was bare underneath. This was a new and uncharted territory we were crossing.

Tell me to stop, say that this is just the wrong time, tell me we would never work. Those words never escaped me, the sound of the goddamn doorbell intervened for her. My movements hesitated then shortly I picked up on inaudible chattering out in the hall. Nellie turned her head in the direction towards the door which I hoped like hell was locked. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on.” Her eyes widened.

“Or we could stay here and not shame the fact that I was two seconds away from wrapping your legs around my face while I tasted the slickness between your thighs. ” Nellie released a ragged breath and I meant every word.

To my dissatisfaction we were composed in under three minutes. I felt a strange sense of comfort and pride seeing that ever so often I’d catch Nellie looking in my direction smiling like she had some big secret she was bursting to tell. Which only made me feel like an even bigger asshole. The walk downstairs was surprisingly noisy. Someone had plugged the Christmas tree back up and there was a chilly wind breaking in as the front door came to an immediate shut.

Nellie’s parents were both moving around in a fast pace trying to find new spots to put a couple of suitcases. I had to swallow down a chuckle at the sight of their bold choice of pajamas. Nellie had already beaten me to the bottom of the staircase just as I rounded the corner of the spiral stairs.

“Cousin!” Vanessa squealed rushing over towards Nellie, who excitedly embraced her the same. They exchanged a few excitable words to each other that I tuned out. I was busy focusing on the six foot son of a bitch with a puppy dog expression on his face standing awkwardly behind them.

“Now you know Nells Bells you can’t have Christmas without good ole St. Nicholas can you?” She winked at a stone faced Nellie who just looked straight ahead at her ex boyfriend Nick. “I hope it’s okay I brought him over with me. I saw him at the airport dozed off in a chair.” Vanessa whispered as she leaned into Nell, like she just earned a gold star. Soon as Vanessa’s wild dark brown eyes caught ahold me I knew my bubble was about to pop.

“Something told me I was off the naughty list this year.” Vanessa bit at her glossed up lips and made a beeline towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She smelled like an overtly sweet perfume that tortured my sinuses. “Did you forget how to work a phone or what? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I miss you.” She cooed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nellie watching the two of us. This was my punishment.

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oh-boy-me · 4 years

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Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read! Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them. We’re just harping on their fashion sense. Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms. It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77 ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating. It’s the worst. 2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt. Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit. After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one? Is that a book? Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it. But uh. How about those red diamonds on his sleeves. They. They sure are there. (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it. HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly? Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair? Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing. Good job, Lucifer! I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit. You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING! NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR. HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors. We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey. It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low. No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket? The studs and harness? Bless. Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though. It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though? We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that. He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit. Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants. Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle? Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity. Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings. The center of gravity in the image is his shoes. Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe. Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt. I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out. Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit. It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between. Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender. What are his suspenders doing? What are they attached to? Are they holding anything up? Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit. Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though. Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves? I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces? Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole? There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game. Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt. Does it only button down the back? Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants. Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt. He got it in the cowboy department. Justin adores it. Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room. The ribcage made of ribbons. The ribboncage. The idea is great! I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans. And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form. Not that it looks goofy. It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness. Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach. Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office. (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green. Feels dangerous. Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though. Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good. The wings? Adorable. The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them? Adorable. One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on. The flowers. The buttons. The brick-pattern stitching. The brooch. The long collar. The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch. Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt. It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry. Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea! But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink. And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink. Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm. Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but. The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain. It’s too extreme on both ends. It should have been only half a leg of buckles. Not whatever this is. I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo. I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket? Stunning. “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin. It’s got puffy sleeves! And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it. Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back? Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face. Jo wants the white belt to be thinner. Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots. I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though. And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess. They knew what they wanted to do at least.

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie? A jacket? A poncho? The cow print actually isn’t terrible. At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting. And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color. “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever. Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing. Feel like he didn’t need that many. Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back? Megan apparently finds that VERY important. Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow? Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7. Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but. Am I biased because I hate harem pants? Maybe. Are these harem pants too short on him? Yes. Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris? But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet. At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down? Probably. That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine. I can enjoy a high topped sneaker. …Is that a security tag? Did he steal his shoes. Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty. But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon? He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes. Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design. Is it dynamic? Is it recognizable? Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10. Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10. Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10. His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10. Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10. The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

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moos-cow · 3 years

Text

'Tis the Season for SMUT

Day 3 Prompt: "Who needs Santa when you have me?"

Pairing: Jonah Clemence/Reader

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Genre: SMUT

Word count: 1,630

Warning: Explicit

It was past lights out when Jonah returned from his evening patrol. Tired and cold, the Queen sauntered back to your shared room only to find it empty-- you were missing, and so was Pine. With a faint huff, he marched back down the quiet hall. There was only one place you could've gone to at this late of an hour, and it was the kitchen.

Just like he thought, you were there-- humming to a jolly Christmas tune while placing the freshly baked cookies onto the cooling rack; Pine was there too, nibbling on some sunflower seeds on the adjacent counter.

But as adorable as the scene may be, it was late and you all needed to go to bed. "Ahem,"

You turn in surprise to see Jonah standing by the threshold of the kitchen, a frown that creased his delicate features was topped off with a faint blush along his cheeks.

"Why are you up so late? I was expecting to see you in bed. And what are all these for?" the Queen scolded, rapid firing questions as his eyes were drawn to the large amount of cookies in one of the jars beside the cooling rack.

"They're for Santa, but I made more for everyone." You simply answer, still placing the cookies on the cooling rack. Jonah's brief silence prompted you to turn to face him again, finding a very bewildered look on his face.

"I assume you'd want to ask why?" you chuckle at the man's expression.

"Obviously. It's rather odd that you'd want to feed something that doesn't even exist, Y/N." Jonah steps closer and takes a seat on one of the counter stools.

"Oh don't be like that, Jonah." You pout and grab a warm cookie from the tray and bring it up to his lips. "Here, have a cookie."

With his mouth now occupied, you take the moment to explain. "See, some believed that if they leave out snacks for Santa, he'll leave a gift behind or answer your wish in return; and others just leave out snacks as thanks for his hard work--"

"You'll be bribing Santa Claus either way." he scoffs, half a cookie nestled between his index and thumb.

"buuut, there are others, like me, who just want to know if he exists here." You banter back, waving another cookie to Jonah's direction with a wide grin on your face.

"Of course he doesn't exist here!" the Queen nearly screeches, but he quickly turns to Pine with a grumpy pout, murmuring to himself, but still loud enough that you could hear every word spoken, "Why would you need Santa anyway when you have me?"

You walk around the counter to stand beside Jonah, hands cupping his flushed cheeks, you guide him close to peck kisses on his pouting lips. "Aww. I wouldn't trade you for the world or two, Jonah. How can I trade you for Santa?"

Jonah's pout and blush deepened at your kisses and words, deep golden amber eyes stare into yours as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "How do you always get away with teasing me, Y/N?"

You shrug and pull him once again into a kiss, deep and starved this time around. His hands slips down behind your thighs, and as he stands, he easily lifts you up on the empty space of the counter. You yelp into the kiss, and he breaks off with a little tug on your lip.

Lips travelling down your neck and teeth lightly grazing over your heating skin, Jonah's hands sweep over your sides and back, tugging the ties to your apron off and tossing it out of sight. His deft fingers quickly undo your ribbon and buttons, exposing your heaving chest to him.

As his mouth goes down, nipping and grazing your supple flesh, your hands go up and around his neck, tousling through his minty hair. You let out a shuddering sigh as one of his hands slide underneath your bra to cup your breast, massaging it and sending shivers down to your core; and the other, down your thigh, bringing your skirt up for his hand to skim over your bare leg.

You can feel his grin as your back arches the moment he tugs and twists on a taut nipple, calling out his name in a stifled moan.

He lets go of you for a moment to tug you further to the edge of the counter and spreads your legs wider; he eyes you like an expensive piece of art, lust-filled gaze burns the current image of you into memory-- flushed and messed up on the kitchen counter, just for him.

Desire burns deep in your belly as he brings a finger to your clothed core, skimming over your opening and the little bundle of nerves approvingly. Teasingly slow and gentle yet sending shocks of pleasure that further drowns you in your arousal.

"Jonah," you call again through ragged breathing, tugging on his jacket to be removed. You needed to touch him, to feel his warmth on your skin.

He doesn't comply, rather, he bends down and tugs your underwear off from under you. You press your knees together, suddenly remembering that you're in the kitchen, half-naked for every passing soldier and staff to see. But Jonah caresses your legs, assuring you that no one will walk on you two, and you open it again in earnest.

Jonah scoots in between your legs, drawing his tongue from the base of your slit to the top of your clit, lapping and sucking-- eating you out on the counter top.

You try to stifle your moans, bringing a fist up to cover your mouth in fear of being heard, but Jonah pulls your hand down, "Don't. I want to hear you"

Mouth on your clit, he slides a digit in, pumping and curling at a teasingly slow pace until your lewd begs fill the kitchen-- heading straight to the growing tent in the Queen's pants. "Jonah, please-"

He concedes in earnest and adds a second digit in, pumping, curling, and lapping until you're left trembling under his ministrations. Your hands found their way to his hair, gripping on it as if it were the only thing that can ground you from the upcoming high.

Your body tenses up violently with pleasure, and your walls contract around his fingers. Jonah continues his ministrations as you tip over to ride out your orgasm.

He pulls out from you and comes back up from your quivering cunt, your arousal now glistening across his mouth and chin. He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking it clean, before swiping a thumb over the wetness on his face.

You pull his hand to your mouth and suck his thumb with a pop, tasting your own arousal. You grin as you lightly bite onto his finger and run your tongue over its tip suggestively.

"You are insatiable, Y/N."

"Am I?" You chuckle and pull him close, legs languidly wrapping around his as your hand trails down to brush over the tent of his pants, palming him through his uniform. He groans in pleasure and his hips twitch instinctively.

"Take it off." You tug on his jacket once again, and this time, he removes it-- quickly undoing the buttons as you work through the belt and his pants. You pull his clothing down just enough for his length to spring free-- hard and erect, with precum beading from the tip.

You take his length in your hands, working him slowly in all the right places you knew, eliciting guttural moans from each of your touches. Jonah calls your name with a shuddering sigh, silently begging for more.

You shift forward on the counter, poising Jonah's cock to your entrance, sliding the head to spread your wetness from your pussy onto his length. As you pause in movement, Jonah pushes in-- your walls instantly tightening around him as he fully sheaths himself in you. "God, you feel so good, Y/N."

Unable to help yourself, you roll your hips forward, dragging a bated moan from your lips at the phenomenal sensation of your Queen. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into Jonah's collarbone as he holds you by the hips and grinds up deep into you-- eliciting a drawn out gasp from you with every thrust.

With your second orgasm building up, Jonah lifts up your leg to spread you out wider for him as he speeds up his thrusts until he's banging mindlessly into you. With the new angle he's brought you into, you're forced to groan out into his shoulder to muffle your sound. He just loves to hear how good he makes you feel.

"Ah, Jonah I'm close-"

"Not until I say so." Jonah grunts as he brings his dexterous fingers back to rub against your sensitive clit. He slows down his pace for you to feel the full drag of his cock and the impact of his deep thrusts, again and again until your legs quiver from the overstimulation.

"Mmm, Jonah please-" you choke out, but immediately gets cut off by a sharp gasp as Jonah speeds up his ministrations to an almost brutal pace, quickly bringing you to the edge once more.

With a twitch, your body seizes up once more as your orgasm crashes over you. Your cries were muffled just in time by Jonah's lips crashing onto yours as he dutifully fucks you through your high, stuttering in his pace as he cums just a few moments after.

The air is hot between you two. Cookies, now long forgotten to a passionate love making session on the kitchen counter.

Someone has to clean this up.

#ikemen revolution #ikemen kakumei #ikerev #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen revolution fanfiction #'tis the season for smut #jonah clemence #ikerev jonah

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

Note

god its nice to be back in your ask box mm tasty your blog looks so professional now i never go on it on desktop its a brand new world also my prompt for you is “That’s okay, I bought two.” for ot4 xoxo love u my darling

hello my wonderful helen, u lookin kinda leng still <3 happy anniversary, hope you like this

side note i realise ashton is not a vegetarian but pretend he is ok carry on

read on ao3

“Hey,” Calum says, sliding into the chair across from Michael at the kitchen table. Michael looks up from his book and smiles.

“Hey.”

“Any idea what we’re doing for dinner?” Calum asks. “Luke doesn’t know and Ashton doesn’t care.”

“Pizza,” Michael says immediately. “Please? Pizza, please? Movie night with pizza? Did I mention pizza?”

“I’m in,” Calum says. He smiles a little. “I was kinda hoping you’d say that, actually.”

“You know me,” Michael says cheekily, offering up his face. Calum, struggling to lean across the table, kisses his cheek. “I’ll order.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, too,” Calum says, reaching up to brush Michael’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re the best.”

“I am,” Michael agrees solemnly. “The best. I agree. Well said.”

“Although Luke did let me play Oasis the whole drive home from work today,” Calum says thoughtfully.

Michael pulls a face. “Hey! If I worked with you, I’d let you play Oasis on the drive home.”

“Yeah, but you don’t.”

“Yes, but it’s the thought.”

“For Luke it was the action,” Calum says. “I don’t know, Mikey. You might have to battle Luke for top spot.”

Michael doesn’t really have a comeback for this. Frankly, most of the time he also thinks Luke is the best. He’s pretty evenly divided, actually, thinking his three boys are the best.

“We can share,” says Michael. “Luke is small.”

Calum laughs. “I’d feel bad leaving out Ashton.”

“Ah, he’s a big boy. He can take it.”

“Boyfriend of the year, you are.”

“I’m ordering the pizza, aren’t I?” Michael holds up his phone like evidence, even though the screen is still dark. The real reason he’s the one ordering is because he’s the only person with the number of the pizza place saved to his contacts. According to Luke, this is “on brand” for him. If that means Michael’s brand is having access to pizza delivery anywhere, then he’s absolutely okay with that.

“I’ll have to run the numbers again,” Calum says lightly. He pushes his chair out. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Please do.”

“Hey!”

“Joking, love you,” Michael says quickly, offering Calum a smile. Calum narrows his eyes, but after a moment he shrugs it off.

“Okay. Love you too.”

He sweeps past Michael through to the bathroom, and Michael unlocks his phone to scroll through his contacts.

The doorbell rings.

“Dinner!” Michael shouts. He makes for the front door and pulls it open. “Hey. Thanks so much. Have a good night.”

“You too,” says the delivery guy, already turning away to return to his car and probably deliver more pizzas. That, Michael thinks, is his dream job. Driving around for hours, transporting pizza from hot ovens to eager hands and hosting one-man-concerts in his car. Not to mention that working for a pizza place must come with pizza-related perks. Free pizza, for example. Not for the first time, Michael wonders if their pizza place is seeking drivers. Also not for the first time, he pushes the thought aside.

“Dinner!” Ashton hollers, sliding into the living room on his socks. He’s shirtless in joggers for no reason Michael can identify. Sometimes Ashton is just like that. None of them are complaining, because, well. Obviously. “I love dinner!”

“Someone say dinner?” Calum appears in the room. “I love dinner.”

“Fuck’s sake, just get married already,” Michael says, rolling his eyes.

Ashton giggles and turns to Calum. “Same brain.”

“We are the wisest,” Calum says, nodding like this is an established fact. A careening force rams into him at full speed and he staggers forward, barely catching himself. “Motherfucker, Luke.”

“I heard talk of pizza,” Luke says, tucking his chin over Calum’s shoulder and hugging Calum from behind. “I’m starving. Gimme gimme.”

“We’re all starving. No hogging the pizza,” Calum informs him, angling his head to lean back onto Luke’s shoulder. They’re cute, Michael thinks. Maybe Luke should be best boyfriend for today. Or maybe Calum, if Michael’s honest. Everyone seems to generally concur that something about Calum today is extremely distracting.

The smell of pizza, however, is equally distracting. Possibly more so. Another day, Michael may need to reexamine his priorities.

“We all know Mikey’s gonna hog the pizza,” Luke grumbles.

“That’s okay, I got two,” Michael says. “One for me, one for the rest of you.”

Ashton takes the pizza out of Michael’s hands. “Sharing is caring, you arse.”

“I did this for you!”

“Is this pepperoni?” Ashton sniffs the air. “Definitely yes.”

“Other one’s half cheese, half veggie,” Michael says, taking the box of pepperoni back but leaving the other box in Ashton’s arms. “Luke, you and I are on this one.”

“Fuck yes,” Luke says fervently. “You read my fucking mind.”

Like Michael hasn’t ordered pizza for them all dozens of times. He knows the general preferences.

Case in point: “You got veggie?” Ashton says, prying open the box. “Hey, Mikey, have I told you I love you today?”

“You have not,” Michael says, even though he probably has. “So let’s hear it.”

“Hold on a sec,” Ashton says, stepping over discarded shoes and someone’s jumper — probably Michael’s — to set the pizza down on the coffee table. Immediately, Calum makes a beeline for the box, leaping over the back of the couch and reaching to open it before he’s fully settled. Michael grins at the move before Ashton reappears in front of him, redirecting his attention.

“Well,” Ashton says seriously, putting both hands on Michael’s shoulders, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Michael stifles a laugh. “Yeah, go on.”

“Don’t freak out,” Ashton says, “but I think I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck,” Michael says. “Ashton, I don’t know what to say. This is kind of awkward. I don’t actually feel the same.”

Ashton’s jaw drops in mock-offence. “What the fuck? I thought we had something.”

“We did, we did! But you eat veggie pizza, and I’m more of a pepperoni kind of guy, so…”

“Wow,” Ashton says, appalled. “So this is how it ends.”

Michael smirks. “Guess so,” he says, and tugs Ashton into a kiss. It’s laughable how quickly Ashton relents, melting into it like ice cream on a sunny day, sweet by all standards. When Michael pulls back he grins. “Kidding, by the way. I love you too.”

“You’re on thin ice,” Ashton says, very unconvincingly, considering he’s smiling like a kid on Christmas. “Thin ice, Clifford.”

“I got you veggie pizza.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating a guy who doesn’t like vegetables,” Ashton says, shaking his head.

Michael scoffs. “I’m dating two vegetarians! Imagine how I feel.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke, the other resident carnivore, chimes in from his position on the sofa.

“Objectively, one of these things is worse than the other,” Calum points out as Ashton and Michael traipse over to the couch. “At least we eat healthy.”

“I respect your dietary choices,” Michael says. “Respect mine.” He wedges himself between Luke and Calum and Ashton takes a seat at Calum’s left. The TV is already on, set to play a DVD of their choosing, although it seems to have been abandoned for the moment in favour of pizza. Calum is happily munching away at a cheesy slice, Luke on one with pepperoni.

“What are we watching?” Ashton asks, reaching over Calum to pull a slice of veggie out of the pizza. It’d be civil to eat with plates, but the four of them are well past civil.

“Whose turn is it to choose?” Calum asks. He’s already almost done with his slice. That boy can fucking eat. Not one to be outdone, Michael takes a big bite out of his own slice.

“Oh my God,” he manages through his mouthful. “Oh my fucking God, I love pizza. This was such a good idea.”

“Agreed,” Luke says, hooking his foot around Michael’s ankle and briefly leaning into him. Michael hums as a feeling of bliss settles like a blanket cape over his shoulders, a gentle hug of happiness. This is the life. Four boys crammed shoulder-to-shoulder on one couch, not because there’s not enough room but because to be anything short of pressed together would leave too much space between any of them. God, Michael loves his life. Weird boyfriends and diverse pizza tastes and uncivil eating habits and all. He wouldn’t want it any other way with anyone else.

A minor argument between Ashton and Luke resolves into the decision that Luke will pick the movie, which of course means they’re watching High School Musical 3, though Michael can’t complain. Everyone knows the third movie is the best. Also, Michael suspects Luke just doesn’t want to pick a movie everyone will groan at. Ever the peacekeeper, that one.

As Luke goes to put the movie in and Ashton rises to grab a shirt from his room, Calum leans against Michael’s other side, reaching for his face and then pulling back at the last second.

“Greasy fingers,” he says apologetically.

“The true homewrecker,” Michael deadpans. “Grease.”

“Hey, I like Grease.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Calum smiles, and Michael struggles to come up with a single thing more beautiful in the world. “Thanks for getting us pizza. I love you.”

Michael quirks his lips. “That’s a bit cheesy.”

Calum rolls his eyes with impressive force. “Seriously? I’m being cute.”

“And I’m being hilarious,” Michael returns. He captures Calum’s mouth with his own, delighted to find that he can taste the faintest trace of Calum’s last slice on his lips. Calum hums softly until Michael pulls away.

“One day you won’t be able to kiss your bad jokes better,” he says. He, too, is smiling. Michael doesn’t think that day will come anytime soon.

“Whatever you say,” he says airily, licking his lips. “But until then, just know…you’ll always have a pizza my heart.”

Calum stares at him as Michael’s grin slowly spreads until he’s cackling, pulling a squirming Calum into his arms and saying “Get it? A pizza my heart?” over all of Calum’s futile protests.

#michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #ot4 fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #HELEN!! an ot4 prompt!!! how unexpected and fun and exciting!!!!!#love you very much :)))#a helen prompt so much fun what a rarity #i catered it to you. you're welcome #<3 <3 <3 #calumcest #ask #answered

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monstersandmaw · 3 years

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Evening to ya, Ghosti✌️😆

Sorry if the wording sounds silly, but I wanted to ask if you know any rituals I could do for the New Years. 🤣 Christmas hasn't been exactly an easy time for me for various reasons and I tend to get the holiday blues pretty bad, and for a long old while New Years has felt very similar. I'm doing my best to feel hopeful and to have some faith for the new year, but it's turning out to be trickier than I anticipated. So I wanted to ask for suggestions as to do anything that could help feeling more hopeful, I dunno. :3

Though feel free to ignore this if you don't have the energy for it. I hope you had delightful holiday however you celebrated!!! 😊💖💖💖💖

Hey anon! (it’s now afternoon here in the UK, and it was morning when I started this! I got a bit carried away). I don’t know that I’m necessarily the right person to ask about this, but here are some ideas of things I’ve found helpful/centring/calming anyway which you could draw from. Other folks, please feel free to chime in with your favourite ways to put the old year to bed and welcome in the new one!

(first of all, I’m sending you lots of virtual ghostli hugs to help drive away those holiday blues. That sucks, and I’m so sorry it’s been so tough for you.)

Here’s a rundown of what’s below, and I’ll put in a ‘keep reading’ so that it’s not an incredibly long post! Some of it is more on the ‘spiritutal’ side of things, and others are just mundane and practical things.

Congratulate yourself on making it through the clusterfuck that was 2020

Make some tea and meditate on what’s been and what you wish for

Go outside, be still, and breathe deeply

Let go of negative events and thoughts by writing them down, then safely burning the paper

Disconnect from social media for a few days (or however long you’re comfortable with)

Start a bullet journal

Write lists of goals for 2021 and then refine/distill them down to 3 manageable objectives

Commit 100% to 6 months of positive change

Pick three dates/months in the year when good things will happen, and make them happen (including growing veg/fruit)

Light a candle on the full moon or New Year

Ok, so, first of all, you’ve made it through this year!! That’s no small accomplishment, given the sheer volume of absolute shite that has been flung at us from all angles, no matter where in the world you live. Celebrate that. Seriously, I’m not being flippant. Take a moment of stillness wherever you are, be ‘present’, and just think about the fact that you’re here, right now, reading this post. Not everyone is here any more for one reason or another, but you did it. Congratulate yourself and celebrate that. Treat yourself to a slice of cake (or something you really enjoy) specifically to celebrate making it through 2020.

Make a cup of tea (try a new blend or recipe perhaps, or stick with your absolute favourite), or make a comforting drink of your choice. As you pour the water into the cup, breathe in the steam and enjoy the scent of it. Try and imbue all the positive things - memories, achievements, moments etc. - that you encountered this year into the tea/drink, and think about them growing in strength as the tea steeps, and envisage them continuing on to next year too. When you drink the tea, you take the positive thoughts into yourself and they become a part of you. You could try it in the morning with a caffeinated drink (if you enjoy those) and let it fuel you for the day, or you could try a herbal tea at night to let the good vibes steep overnight while you rest. Make it part of your daily routine; a private meditation.

Go outside and find a quiet spot somewhere and either stand or sit and just soak up the atmosphere. If there’s a tree nearby, think about the way its roots are planted in the earth, its trunk stands tall, and its branches reach towards the sky. Feel that space inside you. Breathe deeply in and out, visualising your lungs filling to the deepest parts, starting at the bottom. Count to four for each inhale, and six out (or whatever you’re comfortable with, so long as the exhale is longer than the inhale). This will help to still you and calm you.

If you have something fireproof (can just be a ceramic bowl), take a piece of paper and make a moment to write down all the negative things about this year, using a pen that you’re comfortable with. If you’re not one for words, draw pictures. You can make it really beautiful or just scribble it all down - it doesn’t matter. Get that shit out. Look at it for a while and read it through, mentally letting go of each thing as your eyes pass over it, then light one corner (carefully!!!) and let it burn somewhere with good ventilation (a cooker hood is good for that, but outside is better). Visualise all that negativity being swallowed by the universe and let it go. My favourite line from the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf comes at Beowulf’s funeral when a Geat woman is singing her grief at his passing to the sky, and there’s the simple sentence: “Heaven swallowed the smoke.” How beautiful is that? The sky swallowed up her grief as she poured it out to the universe. The negativity might take some time to vanish from your life (it’s not going to disappear at the same time as the paper, sadly!), but watching it go can be the first stage of letting things go. I did this last year, and I’m only just letting go of the last things on that list, but it was a start, and it made me feel more at peace.

Disconnect from social media. I know that with so much more happening online this year out of necessity, we’ve become even more dependant on our phones and computers, and it’s wonderful that we have this chance to connect with people when we can’t see them face to face, but social media can also act as a crucible for negative feelings. People usually post the best or the worst aspects of what’s going on for them or what they care about, so it leads to a skewed view of both the world and of what’s going on amongst our connections. It’s easy to start feeling insignificant next to someone else because of their achievements or their looks etc. and it’s also easy to start to get a bleak outlook when the news is full of terrible stories and people are reacting to it in a volatile and often knee-jerk way. Take some time off - uninstall the apps, or put the limiter setting on, or just step back - for a day, two days, a week, whatever you’re comfortable with. It doesn’t have to be forever. If you use those platforms to talk to people, tell them what you’re doing, and give them another way to reach you if they need. No need to isolate yourself completely!! Think about how you felt before you started it (write it down?) and do the same afterwards, and compare. If it didn’t work for you, then that’s fine too.

Start a bullet journal! Now is the perfect time to start bullet journaling. I first started this year when I felt like time was slipping through my fingers and my life was out of my control, and it’s really helped me to get a sense of order back. It’s not the magic cure-all for procrastinators and time wasters, trust me, but it can help to organise your mind as well as your day, and keep track of your habits etc. It can be literally whatever tool you need it to be. There’s a trend on social media - particularly Instagram and YouTube - that shows off these gorgeous journals that are basically works of art in themselves, and while it’s absolutely fine to aspire to that if you want to, the essential point of the bullet journal is to be a tool. You can buy print-outs from Etsy if you don’t fancy doing your own spreads. But don’t get completely hung up on pretty spreads and layouts because you won’t use it fully then. If you’ve got ‘new book fear’, like I did, make your own! I literally started my journaling by folding a few pieces of paper over, slapping a few stickers on them to cheer them up, and writing some lists. I didn’t buy a ‘proper’ journal until July 2020 when I’d got the hang of what I wanted out of the tool, and how to use it. I adapted one or two things, and I’ll be changing one or two things for next year, but it was a good way to start.

Here are two ‘minimalist’ journals and styles that I found helpful when setting mine up. They focus on usefulness and practicality, rather than overwhelming, artistic spreads and cutesy designs. I’m about to do a ‘plan with me 2021’ journal video for YouTube, so I’ll put that up when I’ve finished it, in case that’s helpful.

Elsa Rhae

Pick Up Limes

Write down the things you want to achieve for 2021. These can be more abstract concepts like ‘more organised’ ‘healthier’ ‘start a business’ etc. Then, when you’ve got as many things as you’d ideally love to achieve/accomplish/manifest (don’t hold back at that stage), take another piece of paper and choose a maximum of six from that first lot to focus on, and below that, choose just three absolutely essential things to focus on. Make those your things for 2021.

Now, this one is a personal one for me, so it may not be applicable at all to you/others, but I’ll share it anyway. For me, I need to make some significant lifestyle changes for my physical and mental health. So, I’ve decided to commit to 6 months of really hard work to bring about those changes. Time is going to pass anyway, from January to June. Six months will come and go anyway. Where will I be in six months’ time? I could be physically and mentally exactly where I am today. That thought is super depressing to me. Or, I could devote 200% focus, commitment, and energy, and bring about those changes, and be the ‘me’ I want to be in six months’ time.

It’s like the adage of ‘given a week to write a speech, it will take you a week, but given a day to write the same speech, it will take you a day’ - your brain will tell you it takes the amount of time that you have at hand to accomplish the task, and that’s simply how long it then takes. Use those three things from the 2021 list above, and commit to making those three things happen.

As an aside, tell someone (whose opinions you value) that you’re going to do this. By telling someone, you’re helping to cement the idea in reality, and you’ve got a support to turn to if it gets rocky, someone to cheer you on, and someone to celebrate with who knew what a struggle and commitment this was to you in the first place.

Pick three points in the year where good things will happen. Book yourself something nice, save up for something and have it delivered then, or tell yourself that you will have achieved [x] by May, or September, or December. For me, it’s a working draft of my novel, and certain health goals by October, but make it yours, and keep those points fixed in your mind. It will help 2021 not to be one amorphous mass of time, and will give it structure and form. You could also choose to grow something in a pot - lots of vegetables can be grown cheaply from seed in a pot on a windowsill, and you’ll have something tasty to eat at the end of it!!

Here’s a slightly gentler idea to finish with:

On New Year’s Eve take a moment to yourself, go outside if it’s not raining or too cold etc., light a candle, hold it (safely) in your hands, and be still. It doesn’t have to be exactly at midnight, but it will help your focus if it’s dark. Otherwise, go to a quiet part of the house and turn the lights down so that the candle flame is your focus. As before, think about what you’ve achieved this year, and be honest, not just negative! It’s very easy to say ‘oh I didn’t achieve anything, it all sucks, it was all awful’, when there will be tiny victories tucked away in there, I promise you, even if it was the toughest year of your life. Then think about where you are at the moment, mentally and physically. Acknowledge that state of being. Look at it with honest eyes. This moment is not for anyone else, so you don’t need to colour it one way or another. It’s for you. If you’re finding it hard not to be negative, be neutral. Let those thoughts come and go, and then turn your mind to the future. Mentally feed those negative thoughts into the flame in front of you, one at a time. Say it out loud if that helps, but do what makes you comfortable. Let the light from the flame fill your mind and your heart, and think about your intentions for the new year.

Tonight (30th Dec) is a full moon, so if that is significant for you, you may wish to do this tonight instead of tomorrow.

I hope that some of that gives you some inspiration, and I hope that people will chime in with their own new year’s rituals and habits. Be honest with yourself but not harsh, and be positive but not unrealistic. This year has been one hell of a ride, and we’re not done yet... Here in the UK, we’ve got the highest numbers of Covid that we’ve ever had, we’re in the harshest lock down (Tier 4) and can’t visit anyone, and we’re also going through Brexit (which is proving a nightmare for everyone, especially small businesses...).

Control the things you can control, and learn and employ systems to ride out the things that are beyond your influence. And take heart - you have a family of folks on here, all across the world!

#new year ritual #new year #resolutions #new year resolutions #rituals #ritual

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circeart · 4 years

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FULL MOON IN TAURUS 31 OCTOBER 2020

The spookiest night with a Full Moon to light up the hidden corners so that we can see the Uranus surprises even better!

The Full Moon will take place at 8°38’ Taurus (antisicion 21°22’ Leo) and will be in an almost exact (to the minute) conjunction with retrograde Uranus. It’s the second Full Moon in a calendar month (October) and as such is known as a “Blue” Moon.

The lunation chart is another of those heavy in Earth elements and Cardinal modes so we should be acting with our heads on our shoulders so to speak, moving forward with sense and practicality.It falls on the Taurus-Scorpio axis, 2-8 houses, our values vs the values we share with others, peace vs emotional storms, material comfort vs emotional drama etc

Moon in Taurus is exalted according to traditional astrology and is so closely meshed with Uranus, which also opposes the Sun in Scorpio, emotions will be running wild or perhaps too fast for slow, steady and sensuous Taurus and the Sun in Scorpio also needs time to process emotions since, being a fixed Water sign, it’s always in a maelstrom of emotions on its own. And none of the fixed signs appreciate the type of sudden change that Uranus might bring to the table.Or, putting in a more simple way; we could say that our gut feelings (Moon in Taurus) might get an unexpected jump start (Uranus) putting them in sync with what the Sun in wilfull and secret Scorpio might have in mind. (Best case scenario)

Venus, the dispositor of the Moon stands alone as a singleton in Libra, so, quite at home in its usual undecided and indefinite way looking over the rest of the chart wondering who it might be able to play with.Mars retrograde, ruler of the Sun in Scorpio is still within orb of a square to the “big” three in Capricorn (Jupiter, Pluto, Saturn), once direct in mid-November, it will perfect the square to these planets and I’ve a feeling that the effects produced won’t be pleasant…but more about that next month. Let’s get our heads around one thing at a time.In this lunation chart however Jupiter, planet of luck, hope and fortune is on the degree of the lunar nodes making it an important game player for this time of harvest (Full Moon). Jupiter in Capricorn is not in particularly good condition however and may fail to deliver or mishandle whatever promise it might be carrying. It is also quincunx the North Node indicating that if success or good luck is to be had it won’t be without a struggle.

Full Moons put the spotlight on the darker side of life, where we need to question our motivations and recognize if we are coming from a place of love for ourselves (Taurus) or suspicion and jealousy (Scorpio). It poses the question of what needs to be understood and transformed.

The Taurus-Scorpio axis with the Moon occurring in Taurus means that Scorpio is the dark side with all its trust issues and its penchant for drama and jealousy whilst Taurus indicates that awareness of love and comfort is the way out of Scorpio’s dilemma

Raven Kaldera in his book “Moon Phase Astrology” calls this Full Moon “the Earth Mother’s Moon”. According to him, it’s a time when we should take care of our body and the physical (not emotional) needs of others. We could ask ourselves on this Moon questions such as: “Am I eating healthily?”, “Do I need a medical check-up?”, “Am I sleeping enough?” “Do I feel good at skin-level with my clothes or does fashion prevail over my comfort?” “Am I getting enough hugs and regular body contact from my loved ones?” On this Moon we need to find the answers to the above questions and fix what is not working.Most interested in this lunation will be those with planets or angles at 6-10° Taurus or Scorpio and the antiscion point of 22° Leo in their birth chart.The Sabian symbol for 9° Taurus: “A fully decorated Christmas tree.” Indicating the ability to create inner happiness in dark hours.For the antiscion at 22° Leo: “A carrier pigeon fulfilling its mission.” Indicating spirituality, in terms of training for service to mankind.

“When it rains look for rainbows, when it’s dark look for stars.” Anon

BibliographyKaldera R. (2011) “Moon Phase Astrology” pp. 192-196, Destiny Books, Rochester, Vermont. USARudhyar D. (1974) “An Astrological Mandala: the cycles of transformations and its 360 symbolic phases”. p 76 and 144, Vintage Books Edition, Random House Inc., New York, USA

[email protected]

#full moon in taurus #halloween moon #hunters moon #full moon #october 2020

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kazoo5480 · 3 years

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Killian and Dave headed to the police station to do introductions and happened upon Robin coming out of one of the rooms carrying a tape recorder. “Gentleman, how may I help? Nothing has happened, correct? Robin said curiously. “No, nothing like that. We actually were inquiring about any open positions, Marco mentioned you were in search of a deputy” Killian said. Robin coughed out a laugh, “I hope you aren’t trying to become a cop jones” he smiled.

Dave spoke up, “No, actually I was curious” and Robin eyed him. “You want out of New York?” he asked. “Thinking about it, it’s pretty peaceful here despite everything that just happened” Dave said, and Robin nodded. “I will inquire to the Sherriff when he returns from Washington, and I will put him in touch if you could leave your number for him” and Dave wrote it on a slip of paper. “We are heading to Regina’s to pick up the girls, so I’ll see you around” Killian said, and Robin just nodded.

Pulling into Regina’s and found the three women sitting on Regina’s porch rocking in chairs sipping lemonade and laughing. They got out and walked towards them, “Hello ladies, fun afternoon?” Killian said to them smiling. Emma was literally glowing and her smile wide, he was relieved to see a genuine smile on her face. “Dave, you need to see her sewing room, gah! I am so jealous, its just gorgeous!” M said, and Dave just smiled and winked at her.

Emma had her little bag in hand and turned to Regina, “So next week on Friday? Maybe we could have dinner with you and Robin too after we are all done?” Emma said to Regina. “That would be great, thank you. Yeah, I think Robin will be around so count us in, we could do it here if you like, my backyard hardly gets much use” Regina said flippantly. Killian nodded, “That would be great, we should invite Belle along if that is alright with you Regina.” She nodded at him, “Of course, the more the merrier” she said and smiled.

They dropped Dave and M off at Granny’s around 4 with plans for dinner later at Anton’s. Killian took Emma home and she went to their closet placing her shoes back in their spot and shoved the bag back on the shelf. “Did you have a good day?” she asked him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Aye, you seem to be doing better love, did everything go ok with the dress?” she lit up like a Christmas tree, “It’s so beautiful, but no details” she said pecking him quickly. “I will prepare to have my socks knocked off, as usual when it comes to you angel.”

His arm tightened around her waist and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, angling her head just so with his other hand. He leaned back and her eyes were sparkling, he felt her small hands smoothing down his shirt, unbuttoning it as she went still keeping her eyes locked on his. He felt her tug his shirt tails out, and reach for his belt, he put his hands on hers to stop her and shook his head. “Let me angel” and began kissing her neck, and jaw.

Light kisses that gradually became open mouthed and gently slid over her skin. She felt the buttons of her own shirt being undone, and the zipper of her skirt undone, the skirt pooled on the floor at her feet, and she stepped out of it, shrugging her blouse off. Killian was being gentle with her, she could feel him holding back, and she went along with his soft assault over her skin.

He backed her up to the bed and lifted her, twisting her length wise. He undid his trousers shrugging off all of his clothes. He crawled over Emma, her thighs cradling him, and began tracing the lines of her bra with his tongue, and the silk panties she was wearing were soaked by now, he could smell her arousal, but he would drag this out. He kissed every inch of her skin, like he was memorizing it. She leaned up on her elbows as he began his slow kisses up her legs, rubbing softly as he went.

Killian was going to making love to her, soft and slow and Emma was on fire. He kissed up her side and sucked her nipples through her thin bra, feeling her nipples tighten beneath the soft fabric. His fingers skirted the edge of her panties, feeling the heat and wetness of her clit, and slid his index finger beneath the edge, barely touching her, tracing soft lines of her folds and she moaned out softly. Her skin was flushed, and so was his she ran her hands through his hair, scraping his scalp gently and he groaned.

Emma sat up abruptly, her impatience to have him winning out, and pulled her bra off, before he had a chance to stop her. “You are a bloody minx, no patience whatsoever” he said smiling into her skin. He continued teasing her, leaving her panties right where they were. She was moving to reach for them too, and he nipped at her fingers, “No angel, my way,” and Emma sighed. She caressed the side of his cheek as he licked through the fabric against her core, nuzzling and smelling her through the fabric. “Killian look at me” and his blue eyes locked on her green, “I need you to love me now” she pleaded, and he hooked his fingers pulling her panties right off of her.

He leaned over her braced on his elbows on either side of her head, brushing her hair off her face. “Come on angel, be patient for me love, let me show you how much I love you” he said blue eyes locked on green. She nodded wordlessly, knowing he knew just what she meant by her plea. He sat back on his heels pulling her into his lap, his cock hard between them, pushed against his stomach, by her core.

Emma wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed at her lips lightly, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. His thumbs brushing softly over her nipples, lightly tugging on them and licking them so softly, sending jolts of arousal right through her. Emma lifted on her knees, rising up enough to move his cock into her entrance, and slowly lowered herself. She kissed him deeply as he finally allowed her to take him, and be fully inside her tight cunt.

Killian closed for a moment, just relishing in the feel of her, the smell of her skin, her soft kisses against his cheeks and neck. She whimpered slightly as he felt himself hit the bottom of her womb. She stilled, adjusting to the size of him and just cupped his cheeks sitting there looking deeply into his eyes. Killian saw so much emotion run through those green eyes in that moment, and he used his hands to grip her ass and rock her back and forth, their pelvises softly grinding against each other.

Their skin was slick, the breeze from the window causing goosebumps on Emma’s skin, she was overstimulated, her orgasm brewing, and Killian was everywhere- teasing her mouth with licks of his tongue, his hands groping her skin, his cock buried to the hilt inside her. “Killian, I need more, please” she whimpered in his ear. He laid her flat, her back arched, and thighs splayed over his. He pulled almost out of her entirely and pumped into her in long hard strokes. He watched as Emma began squeezing her breasts, her nipples tight and rosy, “That’s it, squeeze them angel while I fuck you nice and deep” and she moaned.

Killian used the pad of his thumb to circle her nub, and Emma cried out, “So close” she was desperate. She was thrashing, seeking more of him, he leaned over her, began snapping his hips harder into her, and she wrapped her long legs around him. Her neck arched and he licked a long line up to her pulse, sucking at her there, she fluttered wildly, and he felt right on the edge himself. “Come on angel come for me” he growled in her ear, and he plunged in as deep as he could go, and she screamed his name, and he was off like a geyser pumping every drop he had into her until she wrung him dry.

He laid there, head on her breasts, while they came down. Her heart was fluttering beneath his ear, and he tilted his head placing his chin on her chest looking up at her. “Better my love?” he asked, and her green eyes opened, she just smiled and nodded, caressing his cheek and brushed his hair back off his forehead. “You’re so beautiful Emma”, and he placed a kiss in between her breasts, right over her heart. “I love you, so much” she said quietly. He pulled back and slid out of her. She whined at the loss of him, and it made him smirk, he leaned over her and licked her swollen pink lips, “I’ll be back inside you soon enough angel” and walked to get a washcloth from the bathroom.

He knelt between her legs and spread her thighs. Her clit was glistening and so pink, he leaned down to lap at her, and she sighed. He knew she enjoyed him cleaning her up with his mouth much better than the cloth and went to work. He slipped a finger inside her slowly, lapping up the cum leaking out, using the flat of his tongue and drags of his lips to clean her.

He teased at her pearl lightly with the tip of his tongue, and her legs were trembling. Placing a hand on her stomach to hold her still, Killian sucked the pearl into his mouth lightly, softly caressing it with his lips and tongue while he inserted another finger. Emma cried out, “oh god” her voice was hoarse, and she felt the slow burn begin to spread. Killian moaned and the vibration set her off, sending a fresh gush of their mixed arousals down his throat. He brought her down gently, and was careful wiping at her, not wanting to hurt her.

She looked up at him, “you’re going to kill me by sex you know?” and giggled. “Not the worst way to go my love” and rubbed her legs. She looked to the clock, “We should get up, and get ready”. It was 5:30, and Killian nodded leaning over her once more. “Killian” she said playfully pushing at his chest, “We don’t have time” her green eyes sparkling.

“I know angel, I just wanted to look at you, just like this. Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real, you’re here, in our bed, that your mine” and kissed her lightly. “Ill always be yours” she whispered. Killian felt his cock stir to life and rubbed it teasingly against her. “Killian!” and he laughed rolling to his side letting her up and watched her roll out of their bed.

They each cleaned up and dressed, heading towards Granny’s to pick up Mary Margaret and David. When they entered Anton’s, the sky was darker outside, and the lights Emma had seen her first time here really only increased the romantic atmosphere. M gasped, “This place is lovely” she said, taking in the whole room. They were seated in a booth, the men on each end, and the girls talking looking over the menu, Emma answering M’s questions about the wedding food and pointing out things they tasted that they enjoyed. When the server arrived to take drink orders Killian ordered a bottle of wine, and a few appetizers.

“So, we have some news” M said looking at David. Emma looked at Killian who kept his face impassive, if they wanted to move here, he would be happy, but it was their news to share. “I’m pregnant!” she exclaimed with a beaming smile. Emma wrapped her arms around her friend, “congratulations and leaned to kiss Dave’s cheek. Killian offered his congratulations and smiled happy for his friends, but ignored the jealousy streaking through him. “And we are very seriously considering moving here” Dave added with a smile.

Killian nodded, still smiling, “That was the surprise I was expecting mate, but congratulations on both” and M just smiled at him beautifully. Emma was so shocked by this, “Oh my god, are you guys serious?” she was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. M nodded, “The city is dangerous, and we thought a slower paced life might be a better place to settle down permanently. So, you would be happy if we chose here?” M said, and Emma hugged her friend again, “I would be so happy to have my friends here” she replied smiling at Killian. He put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “It is good news all around, I can offer you my realtor contact in town to help you start searching if you like” and M nodded, “That would be great!”

They all enjoyed their meal, and chatted, and by the time dessert came, they were all too stuffed to accept. They planned a picnic and beach day for the next morning, so Killian dropped them off at Granny’s, and headed home. Emma was thinking over their friend’s news, so happy for them, so excited they may join them here in their life again. Killian led her to their door unlocking it and grabbed the mail on the way in the door laying it on the counter and heard Emma in their room. She was hanging her dress up and pulling on a nightgown. She smiled softly at him, as she crawled into their bed. Killian shucked his clothes, and crawled in, pulling her into him, her head on his chest.

“Big news” he said stroking her hair softly, “Yah, it is” was all she said. “I have to say I was a little jealous” he admitted quietly. She tipped her head up, looking into his eyes, “try and try again, right?” and he was relieved she felt the same way. He nodded, “I am happy for them, truly I am, and I do love the whole trying for a babe with you, any chance I can get honestly. I just hope we have our own news to share soon angel” and she nodded.

“I have hope, and that’s all we can have” she said quietly, and she rested her head back down on him tracing over his skin. They lay there quiet in the dark, the breeze blowing in through the window, “I promise it will happen Emma” and he could feel her smile against his skin. “I know” and kissed his chest, and he gripped her tightly as they slipped into sleep.

When Emma woke in the morning, Killian’s spot was cold. She got up and began the bathtub as she brushed her teeth and looked at the clock. While the tub filled, she phoned M at Granny’s. She said to be ready to be picked up around 11, since it was only 8:00, they had time. She looked out their kitchen window and Killian’s car wasn’t there, she wondered where he went and went to enjoy a bath.

She heard their front door open, and close, and Killian in the kitchen, Emma was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, and she heard a knock at the bathroom door. “Killian?” “Aye love”, and the knob turned, and he was leaning against the door frame smiling. “I didn’t know where you had run off to so early” her voice was quiet. He didn’t realize she would worry, he knelt next to the tub. “I should have left a note, I apologize Swan. But we needed food for a picnic, and you looked so peaceful sleeping” and he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. She just nodded and moved to stand.

Killian wrapped a towel around her, backing her up towards the ledge of the sink. He ran his hand down her arms, stroking up and down leaving goosebumps in his wake. Emma saw the way his eyes darkened boring into hers, and she grabbed him by his shirt collar, and kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth. Killian groaned, “Emma” against her lips and she smiled. She undid the towel and let it drop off of her. As she kissed him, she undid his pants, and kneeled before him. She used her hand sliding over his cock, pumping him slowly, and took him into her mouth. “Fuck” Killian moaned, and his fingers tangled in her curls.

She licked a strip up the side of his cock, lightly licking the tip and precum that had leaked out. She took him all the way into her throat and moaned, the vibration made his knees jerk. She pulled back and looked up at him with a smirk, his blue eyes locked on hers as she continued taking his cock in and out her mouth.

Killian tipped his head back, and closed his eyes, god she felt so good like this, he loved when she surprised him like this, her hot mouth lavishing his cock. He gripped her hair hard, looking down at her, and began fucking her mouth literally, and Emma let him set the pace. She reached up and ran her fingers lightly over his balls, and he growled her name out, hot jets hitting the back of her throat as she sucked him through his orgasm.

He was still hard as he pulled out of her mouth, and hoisted her up, setting her on their sink. Killian leaned in, sucking a pink nipple into his mouth, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefingers. Emma moaned softly, and he switched sides, and began trailing his fingers down to her core. “You are bloody soaked angel” and he ran his thumb over her clit, spreading her slippery arousal over her folds. Emma bucked into his hand, and he grabbed his cock and led it to her entrance. “Is this what you want angel?” he leaned back looking into her eyes, her pupils blown wide, and she nodded, and he plunged in.

Emma’s back arched, and she cried out. Killian was gripping her hips and he lifted her off the sink, and cupped her ass carrying her to their bed. He lowered her, “turn around angel” he commanded lowly, and Emma bent over the edge of their mattress, her perfect ass in the air and Killian plunged in deep. Emma cried, out, and Killian kneaded her cheeks snapping his hips into her. With every thrust his balls were slapping against her skin, turning her on more. He stroked up her back to her shoulder and cupped her, holding on to her tight as he fucked her hard.

Sweat was dripping down his chest, he looked down watching his cock sliding in and out of her, glistening with her arousal and he just ground himself deeper. Emma was hot, and aching, “I need more Killian” she moaned, and he flipped her on to her back. He dragged her legs up over his shoulders, standing at the edge as she laid on her back, and he ground into her as deep as he could go, feeling the bottom of her womb. “Is this what you need Emma? You need me to fuck you hard love?” and she nodded. “Please Killian” she begged him for release, her fingers slipping over his sweaty skin as her neck arched and she cried out.

He ran his fingers over her folds, and she moaned, she was so close. She was tight and her walls were clamping down on him. She was intoxicating, she needed him, and only him, and he was going to give her exactly what she needed. He pinched her clit not too hard, but the bite of pain set her orgasm off and he fucked her through it, her walls fluttering, and her creamy skin growing flush. He slowed down but didn’t stop, he kept rubbing over that ridge deep inside her slowly, and Emma hadn’t opened her eyes yet. He felt his own orgasm burning through him, but he needed her with him.

“Open your eyes Emma, look at me angel” and her green eyes locked on his, her pink swollen lips parted as she moaned, “Killian” she sighed as he continued grinding deeply into her. He used his thumb and rubbed over her pearl of nerves lightly, and he kept his thumb in tune with his deep strokes. Her walls began to flutter around him, and he let go, he came deeply inside her, and kept slowly stroking and her own orgasm rolled through her quieter, but her voice was hoarse as she cried out softly. He laid on her chest, and she stroked his hair, her heart beating fast, he leaned up and looked at her. “I love you Emma” and she smiled “I love you too”.

He cleaned her up and hopped in the shower. He found her dressed in a bikini in their kitchen assembling a picnic lunch, and he just watched her leaning against the door frame. “Like what you see sailor?” she said leaning against the counter, and he grinned, walking to her and cupping her jaw with his hands. “It will never be enough, but I think the day will be a bit more bearable knowing that you are filled to the brim with me” he said darkly, and she laughed shaking her head at him. “You’re insatiable”, and he nodded “only for you darling” and kissed her lightly before he headed back to change.

Emma walked to the wall calendar crossing another day off of the wedding countdown that Killian had made, and she noticed something. She was late, not really late but she grabbed her purse and her notebook out. She was four days late. She thought on it for a moment, leaning against the counter. “Emma?” She startled out of her trance and looked up at him, “I am going to pick up Dave and M, you need me to get anything else while I am out?” she said casually, and he shook his head, Ill get the beach set up then while you’re gone” and she smiled, heading to their room to throw on a dress over her swimsuit.

“You should call on Belle and invite her to join us today” Emma said as she slid on her sandals, and he smiled. “I’ll walk over now and see if she would like that” and he headed down the hall. Emma grabbed the keys and slid on her sunglasses and became a little panicked as she drove. She wouldn’t tell Killian yet, she needed to wait a few more days. The stress lately was easily an explanation, and she didn’t want to get his or her hopes up, she had no signs or cramping, nothing that would give her a feeling that something was amiss. She tucked the thought in the back of her mind as she parked, Emma could keep this secret for herself until, she was sure. “Hi!” M called to her, they were exiting the side entrance and she got out popping the trunk. Smiling she said, “Ready for one of the last warm days we will have?” and they nodded smiling as they entered the car.

Killian knocked on the door, the screen open. “Belle” he called out and headed inside. Belle was lounging on the deck, he called out again. “Hi stranger” she said sleepily. He sat beside her, “all settled in?” and she nodded. “Want to come down to the beach for the day with us? Some friends are in town and they would like to meet you if you are up for it” he said. Belle nodded, that sounds lovely, give me a few moments to change?” and he stood reaching to help her up to her feet. He pattered around rinsing her teacup and her plate setting them in the drying rack. “All set” she said behind him and he smiled at his friend. He took her bag and her towel and led her down her own path towards the beach.

Emma and them were seated on their towels, applying sunscreen and sipping lemonade as she spotted Killian and Belle walking. Emma stood, and walked toward them hugging Belle. “You look sensational” Emma said, and Belle beamed, rubbing her tummy. I feel a little silly being so large, but I feel like a day in the sun is just what I need today” and Emma nodded, holding her hand leading them towards their setup. Emma made introductions, and let Belle set the pace of how much or how little she wanted to know. She listened as Belle asked M all about the city, and their jobs, and she was happy to see Belle smiling at some jokes Dave made. He was good at spotting broken people and knew how to keep it light, those two are just perfect.

When the conversation turned to Emma’s dress Killian and Dave opted to go to the house and grab some more drinks. Emma and M told Belle all about it, and Belle smiled happily. “So right here on the beach?” and Emma nodded, “do you think it’s silly, I am sure we could find somewhere indoors?” and Belle shook her head. “Not at all, I think there will be so few of us, and with a tent in case of wind as it gets cooler at night, will be romantic and perfect for you guys.” M told Belle about her own pregnancy and Belle was delighted to talk about it. Emma kept her face impassive and smiling, not wanting to hope. She was just truly happy for her friends.

The sun was warm, but not hot enough to venture into the water, so Emma laid and soaked up the Sun, M and Belle both napped, and Killian and Dave were kicking a soccer ball on the beach somewhere. Emma leaned up on her elbows, looking over her own stomach. She didn’t notice anything, her hips protruding slightly less but she also had been eating. No mood swings, or bloating, but no period. She tried to think of the last one she had, it was right before she arrived here, and three days later Killian and her were back at it. She needed to make a doctor appointment; it was going to drive her insane.

“Ladies, rise and shine” Killian yelled, and the women startled and laughed. Dave walked up, “you guys hungry?” and they all nodded, and the guys headed toward the house, while they grabbed the towels and Dave carried the basket and cups for Emma. Emma directed M and Belle toward the bathroom and the rooms they could clean up in, while she got out and tossed a salad together, putting some rice on to cook. She heard the front door shut and Killian came in grabbing two beers and kissed her lightly. “You ok Swan?” and she smiled, “yep, just waiting to change”, and kissed him lightly. He nodded, she was lying, but he would ask her later and headed outside with a plate of seasoned steaks to cook.

Emma drank lemonade instead of wine, along with Mary Margaret and Belle, he didn’t notice a difference in her behavior. Maybe she was sad with their friends leaving the day after tomorrow, he imagined that was probably it. He walked Belle home after dinner, leaving the girls and Dave to clean up, and Belle thanked him for the day and dinner. He hugged her, promising to drop in on her tomorrow, and she nodded sleepily locking the door behind her. Killian dropped their friends back at Granny’s and Emma was curled in bed reading a book when he got back.

“Are you alright Emma? Something seems to be the matter, are you sad they are leaving so soon?” She looked up at him and smiled, “yeah I am sad to see them go, but I know they’ll be back soon” and he nodded. “Are you sure that’s all love?”

Emma burrowed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and sighed. “I’m late.”

Tagging a few who might be interested! @wefoundloveunderthelight @itsfabianadocarmo @purplehawkcaptain @the-lady-of-misthaven @the-captains-ayebrows @thesschesthair @myfearless-love @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @hookedpirate @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @letmedieahooker @captainswanouat @captainswoon @cathloves @laschatzi @timeless-love-story @asluve @ao3feed-cs @ahookerandproud @ineffablecolors @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @kymbersmith-90 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @tnlph @the-captains-ayebrows @captainswoon @captainswanouat @captain-swan-coffee @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainirishstubble @onceuponadaily @tiganasummertree @resident-of-storybrooke @greenlef777 Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#captain swan #emma swan #once upon a time #killian jones #storybrooke

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nite-shay · 4 years

Text

His Hero Part 3 -Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

AN: I am so so so so so sorry for how long this took! :/ I wish I had a valid excuse for this but I don’t… I hope ya’ll enjoy it!

Links: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

Also side note I know I’m messed up a few little things but I will edit tomorrow as I go through it. Its late D: But I promised myself I would post this today.

******

Two days…

Two long, boring desk duty days.

Kirishima sighed loudly as he signed and initialed what had to be the same form for the tenth time in the same case file!

Ah, bureaucracy of the hero world at its finest.

Now UA prepared him for a lot of things.

How to use his quirk fully, fighting villains, saving people, etc.

But one thing they didn’t prepare him for was the amount of paperwork that came with his hero career.

Hmm… maybe that’s why they gave so much homework…

Sign. Initial. Sign. Checkmark. Checkmark. Sign. Date. Wait, was he suppose to sign here or there? Crap, is that the right date? Did he just date everything wrong?! No wait, false alarm, the date is correct.

His chair gave a loud creak as he stretched his back, glancing up at the clock. He’d been at this for hours now, and he still hadn’t even made a dent in the wall of folders on his desk.

His mind started to wander as he stared up at the clock hands that he swore he saw moved backward a few times.

I wonder how (Y/N) doing…

It was crazy how badly he wanted to call up to the hospital and check on you, but… he was nervous. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he’s some creepy ex stalker who you literally barely knew you.

He just�� was worried about you. He wasn’t looking for another hookup! No, no, no! He just wanted to see how you were. He did care about you, not in a creepy way just in a general way!

Luckily he wasn’t completely in the dark about your condition, thanks to his green-haired bro. The morning after the robbery, Kirishima woke up to a thoughtful text on your condition. He even got an update on your son, who loved his news toys and played hard with them till he passed out in his mother’s arms.

God, he wished he could have seen it.

He sighed loudly before tossing the file in the ‘completed’ section while reaching for the next one. He blinked as he lifted up the hefty folder.

It was the toy store robbery.

Damn, this was going to be a long one—numerous villains, along with multiple injured civilians and a fair bit of collateral damage. This was going to take the rest of the day. Thankfully, though, Fatgum should be just getting back from lunch, and the store just had a damn good security system installed last week.

“Well, would ya look at that? I guess paper really does beat rock.” A slightly slimmer Fatgum chuckled as he walked in their shared office, arms full of takeaway bags.

“Ha Ha,” Kirishima laughed sarcastically, glancing over to the older hero. “Got enough food, Toyo?”

“I used quite a bit of energy yesterday on that emergency call. Gotta bulk back up.” He dumped the food on to the small table across the room. “Plus, we’re going to be here a while when those reports.”

“Yeaaaaah. Just got to the toy store one. Did the detective ever send the surveillance footage over?”

“Yeap, got it this morning. Check your email. I think you’re on it too.“

"Sweet. I’ll load it up.”

“And I got the snacks,” He grinned as he held up one of the bags.

After some quick furniture rearrangement, two sat side by side in their chairs, video buffed, snacks to side, pen and paper at the ready for notes. This was still work after all. They chose to use the blondes’ monitor since it was bigger. He had seniority, so he typically got the good stuff, which the redhead was cool with.

The first 20 minutes of the video was pretty boring so then ended up fast-forwarding until a familiar pair entered the frame.

It was you and your son. The two of you were slowly making your way down the sidewalk towards the store. Kirishima, who’d previously been slouched and looking rather bored, was not hyper-focused on the screen in front of them. Which didn’t go unnoticed by his mentor, who just snickered quietly to himself.

“Look! There they are!” The younger hero couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two you. You had a sly smile on while your son, who was looking rather frustrated, said something to you. He watched as your lips moved, but nothing came from the speakers. What were the two of you talking about?

Damn, he wished there was audio.

“They look pretty happy, don’t they?” Fat gum comment just as you pointed to the shop, the kids’ faces lit up like a Christmas tree. The kid wasted no time as he grabbed your hand and dragged you inside the store.

“Yeah, they really do.” Kirishima grinned as he pressed a key, switching the view to inside. The redhead beamed as the two of you bounced from isle to isle, your son getting physically more and more excited.

Something churned in him.

Something that’s been happening here a lot recently. He noticed it a few weeks ago.

How his gaze would linger on families he’d pass down the street or on Bakugou as he interacted with his daughter. He really didn’t know what it was at first and just tried to ignore it.

But when he ran into you and your son two days ago, those emotions were brought to the forefront. And these last two days of drowning himself in work wasn’t just to get you off his mind. It was to drown out his feelings.

He… wanted this…

A wife…. A kid… A family…

Not that he doesn’t have a family! He’s still got both of his parents plus his sister he talks to on a pretty regular basis. He’s also really close with his friends to the point where he thought of them as family. Hell, his literal best friend lives right next door to him. You’d think he has it all?

A loving and supportive family. Amazing friends. An awesome career that is literally his dream.

Sounds fantastic, right?

But sometimes, after the long hard days. His apartment just felt empty.

He was greeted with a quiet (Bakugou’s yelling is more like background noise to him now) home.

No one to greet him when he gets home after a long day.

No one to just cuddle and share thoughts with. Even the stupid or random ones.

No one to share meals with while they go over plans or talk about their days.

No one to have petty arguments with like who ate all the cereal and didn’t put it on the list, who left the cap off the toothpaste, not replacing the toilet paper.

No one but himself.

He had a few roommates for a while, but they all moved out to live with their s/o. He’d tried dating and even had a girlfriend move in with him once, but that ended badly. Hero life was hard. Being the significant other of a hero, well, that could be even harder some days. They broke up not long after, and he’d been single ever since.

He mentally sighed. Guess it was the bachelor’s life him…

He continued to watch the two of you browse another aisle as you made your way to the back of the store. From the angle of the camera, he could barely see you now. His hand itched to switch the view to the rear camera, but he restrained himself. This was his job; he needs to watch for the villains, not ogle you. No matter how beautiful you were. How soft and sweet your voice was. Or how quickly that demeanor changed when it came to the safety of your son. He knows first hand you don’t come between a momma bear and her cub. He wouldn’t lie, seeing you go into protective mode, just… damn.

Thankfully, before that thought could go any further, two figures walked through the front door and into the frame. It was the villains. They could only watch as the villains made their way over to the front desk and the shopkeeper.

The villains split up, the smaller one stayed near the desk while the larger one stalked around closer to the racks. He could see the villains and the shopkeeper talking but couldn’t make out what was being said. Lip reading wasn’t his thing. But it was apparent the villains were trying to intimidate the scared-looking man.

A flash in the corner of the screen brought his attachment back to you as you and your son moved closer to the front and ultimately closer into danger.

“No..go back…” Kirishima whispered under his breath as he watched the next bit unfold. The brute yelled something, gave his partner before giving the rack on end a hard shove. Toys and plushies tumbled from their metal shelves as the racking toppled over into the one beside it.

He already knew what was coming.

That rack fell into the next, which fell into the next one. Line by line, row by row. All the shelves dominoed into each.

His eye darted from the villain back to where you were, his body on full alert. Your head jerks to the side, no doubt from the sound of the loud crashing. With reflexes that surprised even him, he watched as you grabbed your son just as the shelf beside you gave in to the weight of the rows before it.

“Is there any other view on them?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking. Yeah they were suppose to keep their eyes on the villain's for the report but...

“Yeah, there’s one in the back.” Fat was already reaching for the keyboard as he glared at the screen, his food seemingly forgotten. The screen flashed for switching over to the back of the shop.

It was total chaos. Toys, plushies, and other items were scattered everywhere from the falling rows. And there in the middle of the disaster area was you and your son. Nearly all of you laid beneath the rack currently pinning you to the floor, save for your one arm and your head. Your son wasn’t in any better of a position; he could only see the top of his head. Suddenly the video stopped. Fatgum had paused the video before playing back the part of you, grabbing your son, right before the rack fell.

“Good reflexes.” The older man sighed in relief. “Little guy would have been crushed if he’d stayed .” Kirishima could only nod as they continued to watch. The video was back to where it was before, with the two of you being pinned under the rack. Even though he couldn’t seem much of you, he knew the two of you were scared. How could you not be? Damn, he should have gotten there faster!

If he’d been faster, maybe… you wouldn’t have gotten hurt as bad, or your son wouldn’t have been as scared. Though, to be honest, it was just chance they’d been in the area. Guess you could say it was a right place at the right time kind deal. The two heroes just finished their shift and were heading back to the agency. They’d gotten into a debate on food and made a wrong turn, which put them on that street. A loud crash caught the attention of a civilian across who called to them from across the street.

If they hadn’t been there, how long would it have taken for the call to come in? How long would you have been pinned there? How long would your son have to watch you suffer, alone, scared?

A shadow in the corner of the screen shook him from his thoughts. It was the bigger villain making his way towards the back of the store.

“Hide…” Kirishima mumbled as they watched the villain make his way over to you. You shifted, hiding your son further into the small hollow, but leaving you exposed and unprotected.

“The detective said in the email that a part of this was pretty hard to watch, I’m guessing that’s about to come up…” Fatgum muttered sadly, putting his snacks down on the table. They watched as the villain stopped in front of you. The man was clearly saying something to you, but you only kept your head down, shielding your young son. The villain tensed for a moment. Was it something you did? Or maybe you said? Whatever it was clearly angered him as he gave you a wicked grin before putting his foot on the rack above you. Before, the redhead wished there was sound, but now, he was grateful for the silence.

"That bastard!“ He saw red as he watched you scream from the man applying more force to the shelf.

"Easy Red, they’re both ok, that guy won’t be able t-.” The older man tried to calm down his partner, well, until the villain kicked you in the face. That made the older hero jump to his feet. “That fiend! Just you wait till we get there! You’ll regret that!” As enraged as Kirishima was, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at how quick his mentor’s demeanor changed.

After picking his char up off the floor, Fat sat back down, and the two returned to watching the video. It wasn’t long, for they saw the villain’s lip moves, still looking over for walking off-screen. You weren’t moving, and your face was now covered in blood.

Nothing moved on the screen for the longest time. Fat was just about to reach over and speed up the video when something caught his eye.

It was your son.

Kirishima’s heart broke as he watched the small boy pull himself out from under the wreckage. He was shaking, and his clothes were torn, but thankfully, he wasn’t hurt. Well, not physically anyway. How the kid managed to walk away from that unscathed was a miracle. (Y/S/N) looked in the villain’s direction before turning back to you. It was hard to see the kids face at this angle, but the heroes didn’t need to. They knew he was crying as he gently shook you, trying to wake you up.

Sadly you weren’t waking up, not then anyway.

If he’d been in that kid’s shoes at his age, he would have given up right then and there.

But not this kid.

No, instead, he grabbed your arm and started pulling you. Trying to drag you up from under the rack.

This elementary school kid, who was just the victim of a villain attack, was trying with all his might to save his mom. He jerked and strained as he tried to pull you from under the massive weight, but you weren’t budging. He gave one final strong pull before slipping on remnants of a displaying, causing him to fall back on his butt. Kirishima had to physically stop himself from moving.

The kid was back on his feet in a flash, this time though he was trying to lift the rack. He knew he couldn’t lift the shelf; even with a quirk, it would be impossible for him given his size. But there he was still pushing with everything he had.

“Poor little guy. He must have been terrified but look at him. He’s really giving it his all."

"He’s an awesome kid. If it’d been me, I’d be too scared to move.” Kirishima’s voice was full of pride but held a trace of sadness. The redhead was proud of the squirt. Most kids, hell, most adults would have been paralyzed with fear.

But not him.

Despite the fear.

Despite the pain.

Despite the hopelessness.

He still kept trying.

He’d make a hell of a hero one day…

A flash of red in the corner of the screen jolted him from his thoughts.

It was himself. They’d finally arrived to help. While the video played out in front of them, the rest of his senses played his memory. He could hear the kids cry for help. He could feel the weight of the shelf as he moved behind the kid to rescue you. The warmth yet limpness of your body as he pulled you from the wreckage. The wailing of your son calling out for you. The relief when he felt your pulse still beating beneath the fragile skin of your neck. The overwhelming emotions as tried to comfort the small, terrified child in his arms.

Fatgum paused the video once everyone was out of frame. You on a stretcher and him with your son still in his arms.

“You did really good out there today, Red.” Fatgum grinned at him before reaching over to the file on the desk, flipping through the report.

“Thanks.” Kirishima sighed. “I just wish I could have done more. Maybe if I’d been faster, (Y/N) and (S/N) wouldn’t have had to suffer as much. Some hero I am…"

"Don’t say that! You did everything you could and believe me when I say this, at that moment, you truly became that kids hero.”

“Hmm…" Fatgum gave the folder in his hand a puzzled look before hit rewind on the footage.

"What’s up?” Kirishima glanced up at the larger hero.

“It’s nothing really. Just wondering something. The paramedics said the kid was ok right?”

“Yeah, they checked over him at the scene. His clothes were torn up some, but surprisingly, the little guy didn’t have a scratch on him.” A light bulb went off. “Wait, How did he do that? He was under that rack too!”

“That’s what I was wondering. Maybe he used his quirk? If he did, given the shape he momma was in, it might have saved his life.”

“Hmm… well, he did say that his quirk was kind of like mine. But I didn’t see him use it.” He thought back. Fat paused the video to right as the rack was falling on to the two of you. It was still hard to watch, but they went through it frame by frame. “I can’t see anything resembling a quirk…”

“Hmm… I can’t tell anything. If he has a defensive quirk, it doesn’t really stand out. Plus, with all the objects falling around them, it makes it harder to tell.

"Maybe his clothes are hiding it?”

“Hey, can you go to the part where he crawls out? I think there was a pretty good shot of him there.” Fatgum nod hit a few keys to comply. “There! Right there!” They let the video play out from there.

Until they saw it. For a split second, the kid is looking right at the camera, showing his whole face. And something… just looked off. Was something wrong with the camera? Maybe it was a trick of the light or the lens?

“Can we zoom in on his face?” Kirishima leaned forward, looking closely at the screen as Fat zoomed in on the boy’s face. The screen was blurry for a minute, but slowly the video started to render, making the image clearer.

What? Was his skin…. hardening?

No, it was just hardening.. it was sharpening too… Just like his…

Kirishima felt his heart take a free fall into his stomach.

The kid didn’t have a quirk similar to his.

No, his quirk was exactly like his!

The room started to spin as he felt like every molecule of breathable air suddenly took an exit stage right, right out of the room.

“Hey… Kirishima… when did you meet (L/N) again?” Kirishima could barely hear Fat’s question over the ringing in his ears.

Links: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01

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romioneficfest · 4 years

Text

Constellations

Title: Constellations

Prompt/Day: Day 13 - Rings

Tumblr name:

Rating: K+, but with a brief mention of sexual interaction near the beginning

Brief summary: Hermione’s obsessed with the freckles that dot Ron’s back: she can’t help but stare every time he’s shirtless around her. But when she realizes they’re a bit like constellations, she has an idea— an idea that involves Ron laying flat on his stomach on their bedroom floor, and that involves her handling paint and paintbrushes to bring a galaxy to life on his back.

Tags: brief, nonconsequential mention of sexual interaction near the beginning (not important to the actual story)

Hermione is accustomed to seeing Ron’s bare back. That’s the ins and outs of couple life: she’s seen it in settings as intimate as in a shroud of sheets, his bare skin against hers after they’ve made love, and she’s seen it in settings as innocent as when he pulls off a sweater and his shirt rides up with it. It’s just a part of getting to know his body, but no matter how many times he’s caught glimpses of his back, she’s still transfixed by it. It’s strong, rippled with muscles (a collateral benefit of how physically demanding it is to be an Auror, no doubt), the skin soft and supple, a faded scar right under his shoulderblade from when he fell off Charlie’s broom when he was six, and an ocean of freckles splayed across every square inch of his pale white skin. It’s always the freckles that get her— she’s always trying to pick patterns in them, discern an order for them, pinpoint specific ones to single out as her favorites. It’s like they’re stars, and she’s always trying to arrange them into constellations.

That’s what gives her the idea.

“I still don’t know what we’re doing,” grumbles Ron, laying shirtless on his stomach on a frayed old towel on the wooden floor of their bedroom.

“You’ll see soon,” says Hermione, who’s straddled him to sit comfortably, making sure not to hurt him, atop the small of his back, where his butt begins. She has an assortment of paint jars next to her, standing to attention like colorful soldiers, as well as an array of paintbrushes of different thicknesses and a small plastic container filled halfway with water, sitting on a paper towel. Luna lent her the paint— she was elated when Hermione told her what she was planning.

“I don’t like this,” he keeps complaining, nestling his chin more comfortably into his folded arms, still refusing to lay down wholly. Hermione dips a thick paintbrush into a jar of deep purple, tapping it lightly against the mouth of the jar to cast off any excess. “I don’t like this one bi—”

Ron’s complaint dissolves into a pleasurable sigh as Hermione strokes the paintbrush across his back. It feels good: the coolness of fresh paint, overlaid over the soothing caress of the paintbrush’s bristles, makes for a sensation his skin can’t help but cry for. “Merlin, Hermione, that’s good,” he groans contentedly, nestling his head into his arms like a pillow, finally allowing himself to relax fully.

“When am I ever wrong?” Hermione quips back, now laying a stroke of ocean blue against the violet already on his back. Ron wants to make a witty retort, but he’s too overwhelmed by the feel of the brush against his skin, so he decides to let it slide just so she won’t stop doing whatever’s making him feel so good.

Hermione works as diligently as she does in anything: even knowing there’s nothing at stake, she’s too much of a perfectionist to allow anything to slack. The familiar crease of concentration appears between her eyebrows, and her tongue sticks out a bit from the corner of her mouth, an adorable display of how much focus she’s devoting to this. Despite having never seriously painted before (she’s never been the artist, and when she was smaller she refused to do anything she wasn’t immediately stellar at), she pays attention to every single detail as she would to the last gram of a potion’s ingredients, her hand as steady and masterful as when tracing out delicate runes on parchment paper. The paintbrushes dip in and out of the paint jars —magenta, lilac, sky-blue, navy, mauve— and leave streaks across Ron’s back in their wake, blending naturally as they mix on his skin.

“What is it you’re painting?” Ron pipes up all of a sudden, his voice slurred with a mix of sleepiness and bliss, just as Hermione begins tracing a circular outline in ochre, with a thinner brush.

“I’m taking inspiration from Astronomy,” Hermione says, pleased at how perfect her freehand circumference has turned out.

“Leave it to you, Hermione Granger, to draw a bloody star map on my back and call it art.”

“It’s not a star map,” Hermione says defensively, beginning to fill in the circle with more ochre paint. “It’s a galaxy.”

“Never got around to seeing too many of those,” mumbles Ron, his eyes closed. “But I suppose when your Transfiguration teacher takes four Stunning shots to the chest on the night of your O.W.L, there’s a good reason why you don’t end up doing the N.E.W.T.”

Hermione laughs shortly, delightfully, and Ron smiles to himself as he nestles further into his arms, a tuft of hair falling across his forehead.

She finishes filling in the planet she’s outlined, in a nice shade of ochre, and she now dips the thinner paintbrush into a milky-yellow hue of paint to begin tracing the rings around the planet— she hadn’t realized it, but she’s unwittingly painted Saturn. The rings are her favorite part: she remembers when she was eight or so, and her parents gifted her a book about space for Christmas, and she spent hours poring over it trying to understand why some planets had rings. She doesn’t remember much about it now —Astronomy took on a different character when she entered Hogwarts—, but she still feels a predilection for those planets with rings around them.

“When you said you were going to paint me,” Ron says, distracting her from her memories, “I thought you meant you were going to draw a picture of me, not use me for a canvas.”

“I’m full of surprises,” she replies, filling in the rings with the same milky yellow and a few thin lines of greyish black.

When she’s done with her galaxy, Ron’s back is filled with color: blueish hues dance and mingle as the backdrop, with Saturn standing radiantly against it. But there’s only one thing missing to make it a proper galaxy: stars.

The paint layer is thick enough to create a cohesive painting, but thin enough that she can still faintly make out Ron’s freckles. She knows this is going to be the most painstaking part of this— but it’s why she’s doing it in the first place, isn’t it?

She takes the thinnest brush she can find, dips it into the white paint, and carefully dots Ron’s back with it, placing a “star” over every freckle she can make out. Ron seems to like that, because she feels his muscles lose even more tension, but she can’t lose sight of her work: every freckle must be painted over, a star for each kiss she’s ever wanted to press to each little spot.

When she’s finally done, she looks at her work with satisfaction: it’s a proper galaxy now, speckled with stars and perched majestically on Ron’s back. She stands up, dusts off her hands, and places her hands on her hips to observe it from a different angle.

Ron stands up too, his hands awkwardly by his sides so as to not mess up the painting. “So? How’s it look? Can I look at it now?”

“Not yet,” Hermione says softly, lifting her wand from her nightstand. “It’s not quite finished.”

Wordlessly, she points the wand at his back and gives it a little tap, careful not to smudge any of the paint with it. The galaxy comes alive: Saturn revolves around its axis, the hues in the back conglomerate and dissipate like clouds, and the rings oscillate around the planet with a gravitational tilt. But best of all are the stars: they dance around Ron’s back, arrange themselves into shapes and formations, they seem to play with one another as they shoot across his skin. It’s as if Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” had come alive, but so much better: it’s a cosmic dance, a galactic performance for her eyes only, and it’s everything she’s ever imagined Ron’s freckles to be. Finally, they’ve made the leap from mere stars to the constellations she’s so often pictured.

“So?” comes Ron’s voice again, with a hint of his trademark impatience. “How’d it turn out?”

Hermione lets her gaze sweep up and down the body of the man she loves again. Every curvature of it, from the sturdiness of his thighs up to the strength of his back to the delicateness of his nape, crowned by a cascade of orange-red locks she loves to tangle her fingers in. Merlin, she loves him.

Her answer comes without a trace of hesitation: “It’s perfect.”

#Romione FicFest 2020 #Fic Post #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Submission #Queue Up for the Dragon #Rated K+#Ace Safe

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silvanoir · 3 years

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Summer 2021 Nerdy Reading and Watching:

I don't have as much time for reading and watching fiction as I used to, or to post my thoughts about it, but here's some things I read/saw this summer so far:

Cat Woman: Soulstealer (graphic novel): The art starts out sketchy and improves as it goes. You have to get used to this being a younger Selina, just starting out, who has a fling with Luke Fox (Batwing) instead of Brice Wayne (Batman), but other than that, fairly solid. I think they overdid Selina's backstory and skills, stuff I know that's usually on par with how they overdo male superhero's skills/backstory, but eh. Catwoman really should be simple: woman who grew up poor, is good at stealing shiny things from the rich, dresses like a cat because she likes cats. I prefer the backstory in this for her sister over the one in the main comics, though (anything is preferable to Blackmask torture scenes, really).

Batman: The Adventures Continue "season 1" (comic): A decent Batman vs. robots and Lex Luthor story to start, Slade trying to recruit Robin like in the TT cartoon but BTAS style, followed by What If Jason Todd was part of the BTAS which.... doesn't really work, since BTAS Tim is a combo of Tim and Jason (even slightly refrenced). And they went with Jason wanted to kill criminals and was BAD ALL ALONG angle, and removed a lot of the emotional angle of why he wanted Bats to kill joker so it... fell flat for me (read the main canon comics or watch the redhood movie instead). Ends with a Christmas story that feels like it almost could’ve been a real episode (except that Harley/Ivy are more clearly a couple than would;ve been allowed on 90s kids TV). There was also a story involving Azreal which reminded me its been almost a decade since I read the entire Knightfall arc. So maybe... I'm just getting tried of superhero comics?

Vampire the Masquerade: Winter's Teeth: ah, this is how I like my vamps. A variety of vamps in personality, ability, and social standing, with varying degrees of sympathetic stories to an acknowledgement that all vampires are kind of a-holes (also to varying degrees). Don't read if you're squeamish about blood (don't read any vampire story if you're squeamish about blood?)

Gundam Thunderbolt. There's fantastic detailed animation and Jazz like in Cowboy Bebop (so much so I thought it was made by the same people). But there's also war is terrible for both sides, causes grief and loss, maiming of bodies, and destruction on a mass scale of Gundam. There is literally now way you can miss the driving point of this one for "wow cool robot". Very well made. But kind of intense and depressing. Japanese with English subtitles only, there was no dub made.

I've also rewatched Farscape. It is hornier, sillier, and more morally grey than I remember it being. I mean, I remember it being all of those things, but it is MORE of it. Just like watching back in the late 90s/early 2000s when it originally aired on SyFy, I find myself more distracted by the makeup, costumes and puppetry which most often I'm impressed by (unless they are the aliens of the week instead of reoccurring characters, then they tend to skimp on silly wigs). The things I remember, more than the plot (I don't know how some of you people have near photographic memories for plot, given enough time I forget everything but a few still images from anything I watch), is how Zaan's skin changed in blue hue from season 1 to 2, The movie alien colors not matching the show colors, Chiana's necklace which looked like a bunch of swords stabbing her neck, how impressed I am with the pilot puppet in general (still am). Or, how I didn't really care for either the show or the movie's ending (I think I would have preferred the show's ending minus the very last scene... just stop with the proposal). I notice its inconsistent when it comes to things aliens know and don’t know (makeup exists on many worlds they visit yet Chiana didn’t know what it was until she visited Earth?). Weirdly, the one thing I think it does a good job with is depicting how when people go through repeated trauma and ordeals, it has a long term effect on them. Something I don't think I appreciated as much when I watched it the first time. Poor John never fully recovered after being tortured in the chair (didn’t help that awful things kept happening after that, but it was the point where his character permanently changed).

#comics #tv #silvanoir reviews

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that-nerdy-ravenclaww · 4 years

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Jealous ♫ D.M.

A/N: Hiya! This is my entry for @firewhisky-kisses writing contest! It’s a Draco Malfoy x Reader angst and features of my favorite songs, Jealous by Labrinth and the prompt “Please, don’t do this. Please.” I hope you like it!

♫

"I can’t do this anymore, Draco.” She spoke up after a few minutes to uncomfortable silence, her words some the Malfoy heir never expected to hear. He lifted his head from the Potions book in his lap, the ingredients on it no longer interesting him more than the petite girl in front of him. She was propped against one of the armchairs in his family’s study, her formal robes replaced by a pair of fitted jeans and a jumper he rarely saw her wear anymore. Her long hair was tied in a top knot, leaving her blemish-free face and ocean eyes uncovered. She wore no jewelry, not even the pearls he’d spent his Christmas allowance on, and no makeup.

“Pardon?” His voice held a hint of confusion as he moved to situate himself at her feet, his hands unconsciously going to pull her to him. He frowned when she didn’t.

“I can’t do this anymore,” She repeated softly, her eyes meeting his. They were sparkling with the beginnings of tears. “I can’t sit here and watch you become a Death Eater knowing you deserve so much better. I can’t kiss your cheeks or hold your hand knowing it might be the last time I ever get to do so. And I can’t stand by and watch you pledge your allegiance to someone you despise just to make your parents proud.” Draco swore he stopped breathing as he watched her slowly rise to her feet and slip on a pair of flats, the realization of what she was saying sinking in like a knife to warm butter.

“Don’t say that. Y-you don’t mean it.” He stuttered, practically jumping to his feet to confront the woman he loved with every last piece of him. His eyes searched for hers but she had focused them on a bookshelf in the corner of the room, a bookshelf they both knew led to the place where Lord Voldemort held his meetings. His arm began to burn, but it didn’t hurt nearly as badly as his chest did in this moment. It felt as if the pureblood witch in front of him had reached into his chest, wrapped her perfectly manicured hand around his heart, and squeezed until it became nothing but a drained organ.

“I do Draco, I really do.” She stepped around him then and wiped away a tear that had fallen, evidence their parting hurt her just as much as it hurt him.

“NO! Please, don’t do this. Please.” He pleaded, tears pricking his vision as he reached out to grab her hand. He couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I really am.” And then she was gone, her body being transported somewhere else with a loud crack. Draco fell to his knees, broken sobs leaving his plump lips as he mourned the loss of his lover. Unbeknownst to him, she was crying too.

It was the twelfth of October when he saw her again, nearly three years later. She was on the front page of the Daily Prophet, her arm interlocked with a man sporting fire engine red hair and a hideous suit. It was raining but neither of them looked to care, their smiles wide, eyes locked, and hips touching. They looked indescribably happy and a little too close to just be the business partners the headline claimed them to be. Draco scoffed and crumpled up the bloody paper, annoyed.

I’m jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It’s closer than my hands have been

I’m jealous of the rain

“She deserves better than a blasted Weasley,” He snarled, tossing the crumpled ball of paper into the fire burning in the fireplace. He ran his hands through his slicked back, white blonde hair and groaned in frustration. He didn’t understand why after all the time they’s spent apart, he still got jealous over seeing her in the paper next to another man. A tiny part of him knew why, but he ignored it, instead choosing to conjure up a glass of Firewhisky and down it.

I’m jealous of the wind

That ripples through your clothes

It’s closer than your shadow

Oh, I’m jealous of the wind

Three years. Three fucking years and he still couldn’t rid himself of the urge to apparate to her flat and pull her into his arms, to hold her so tight she could never leave him again. After three years, he was still mourning her.

Cause I wished you the best of

All this world could give

And I told you when you left me

There’s nothing to forgive

He threw the glass, his eyes trained on the fire where the image of his lost love and George Weasley stood side by side, smiling even in the most depressing element, and hardly flinched as the glass shattered against the stone wall. He wanted to go back, to do everything he could to make her stay, but he couldn’t. It was too late to rewrite the past, too late to bring her heart back to him.

But I always thought you’d come back,

Tell me all you found was

Heartbreak and Misery

It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way

You’re happy without me

The copy of the Daily Prophet was fully burned, its ashes slowly falling to the bottom of the fireplace when Draco finally settled down. A dull ache remained evidence of the hurt he’d felt all over again, but he did his best to ignore it. He had gotten used to it in the past few years and a part of him wondered if she had too.

I’m jealous of the nights

That I don’t spend with you

I’m wondering who you lay next to

Oh, I’m jealous of the nights

A scream left his lips, a scream which left his throat dry and voice hoarse. He punched his bathroom mirror, ignoring the stinging in his hand from where glass had cut him, and continued to punch until his first made contact with the wall and his knuckles were placed at awkward angles. Footsteps came from the hallway, the pounding of them similar to that of his heart, and he screamed again. All he felt was pain, all he saw was red, and as Astoria Greengrass rushed into the room with a horrified look on her face, he screamed again.

I’m jealous of the love

Love that was in here

Gone for someone else to share

Oh, I’m jealous of the love

“Draco, Draco I need you to look at me.” The dark-haired woman grabbed her fiancé by his shoulders, doing her best to avoid stepping on the bloodied glass on the tiled floor. She shook him slightly, the action causing his head to snap towards her and tears to fall. He looked utterly defeated, broken beyond repair, and his next words cut her much deeper than the glass under her feet.

“She married him, Astoria. SHE MARRIED THAT BLOOD TRAITOR.” He screamed the last part, his voice almost gone from how much he’d used it. He collapsed into her embrace, hot tears staining her white nightgown and soaking her shoulder. He heaved, the sounds he was making bringing tears to her own eyes. She wished for a moment she’d thrown away the copy of the Daily Prophet, but knew it wouldn’t have prevented much. Draco would’ve discovered the news some way, but Astoria still felt responsible for the heart clenching feeling her soon-to-be husband was feeling.

Cause I wished you the best of

All this world could give

And I told you when you left me

There’s nothing to forgive

But I always thought you’d come back,

Tell me all you found was

Heartbreak and misery

It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way

You’re happy without me

Thirteen years passed and Astoria did everything she could to keep news of Aspyn Weasley nee Rosier from her husband. He was slowly healing again, the wounds he’d received back in his seventh year scarring over, and a genuine smile returning. He was becoming Draco again with every passing day, smirking more and becoming affectionate with her in the way she craved. She couldn’t take all the credit though, their son Scorpius had helped ease her husband’s bleeding heart more than she ever could.

However there were times he had a relapse and one of those days happened to be the same day Scorpius left for his first year at Hogwarts.

As I sink in the sand

Watch you slip through my hands

Oh, as I die here another day, yeah

Cause all I do is cry behind this smile

I wished you the best of

All this world could give

The family of three had just made their way to Platform 9 3/4 when he spotted a flash of platinum blonde hair, a shade only Aspyn could ever pull off. He turned his head and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the woman he hadn’t seen in person for nearly nineteen years. She hardly looked a day over sixteen with her waist-length locks and slender, curvaceous body. He could see her eyes from where he stood, their blue hues so vibrant they reminded him of the Caribbean Sea. She had no visible wrinkles, no grey hairs, and skin as flawless as it had been all those years ago. She was dressed in a taupe colored trench coat and matching heels, her long legs on display and waist pinched.

And I told you when you left me

There’s nothing to forgive

But I always thought you’d come back,

Tell me all you found was

Heartbreak and misery

It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way

You’re happy without me

Her arms were wrapped around the waist of her dotting husband, the very same one she’d become business partners with thirteen years ago, while her eyes were trained on the figures of three children, two identical boys dressed in Gryffindor robes and a nervous-looking girl dressed in black ones. All three children sported the Weasley family’s signature red hair and freckles, however their facial structure and ocean eyes had been obtained from Aspyn. He felt a pang in his heart and they ran forward to hug their parents.

“Honey, is everything alright?” Astoria asked, placing a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder. Draco snapped his head in his wife’s direction and nodded, his mood rising when Scorpius wrapped his arms around his middle.

“I’m gonna be in Slytherin like you, Father.” He promised before running to catch up to a few of his friends. Astoria leaned into the Malfoy man with a sigh, watching with teary eyes as their only child boarded the very same train they did many years prior. However Draco’s eyes had returned to the sniffling frame of his ex lover and her husband, his eyes watery and pained.

I-I-It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way

You’re happy without me

#writing contest #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #life #scorpius #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #angst #hogwarts #magic

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smearsyd · 3 years

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Day Again | Sehun | Part Three

Kim Haru knows loss. She knows what it means to miss someone, to find out what isolation looks like in the flesh. These things, she expects them and she patiently waits for the day she may wake up and greet them as griefs of the past.

What she does not expect, is the same grief reflected back in another’s face. She doesn’t expect to find solace through this person either, nor does she expect to cherish her days with him, rather than wait them away.

characters:

+ oh sehun (exo), you as kim haru (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + friends to lovers + fluff and romance

warnings:

+ mentions of death, grief + sensitive topics

length:

+ five parts + 30k plus total

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ masterlist + part one + part two + part three

author’s note:

+ this was late merely because I was too lazy to update it oop

@i-peachesandstrawberries @itsmesa

if you want to be tagged, please reply to the masterlist!

Golden Hour

I held the slightly crinkled note in the palm of my hand, feet antsy in anticipation of those stormy eyes. My stomach fluttered at the memory and I tried to swallow it down, to pretend I was feeling nonsense, but the wings of his touch and those grey, grey eyes of his were too encompassing to let it pass.

My fingers traced the spot where his feather like kisses were branded into the crown of my head and my heart thumped against the cage of my chest in half-faltered beats as if it were still attempting to match tempo with his. Is it normal for your body to remember someone, to long for someone, when even your mind is still lagging in the words to comprehend your emotions?

His writing was soft and rounded, not at all like I would expect.

I’m sorry I have to leave…

Don’t go, I wanted to say at the parchment.

You are sleeping so peacefully. I don’t want to wake you, but I have to pick Jisung up from his friend’s house…

Wake me, I don’t care.

I’m glad we ran into each other once more…

So am I.

If you’re not busy, come next Sunday at 7. Jisung is having a party. He’d love to see you— so would I…

I wouldn’t miss it.

Call me sometime, okay. So, I can hear your voice.

Always.

A week had passed and yet, I hadn’t stopped reading his note as if I were reading it for the first time, discovering something new within myself as I overlooked it. Oppa would laugh at me if he knew the way I was feeling about his best friend. Or perhaps, maybe he always suspected, and I was the one who laughed it off.

The thought slipped away from me as I neared Sehun’s building, my ears perking at a familiar, short chuckle. His broad shoulders and tall frame took over the center of my eyes and I found myself walking faster, drawn like a hummingbird to its favorite nectar. He was unloading his truck, a fresh Christmas tree in tow; it was bigger than any I had ever seen, and the green thistles were cascading all around him like imitation snow.

I found myself calling out to him as he sat the tree down and closed the back of the pick-up. His head quickly turned in my direction, a bright smile lighting up the frosted bits of his nose and cheeks. We spotted one another and then he was taking the few large strides to my side and enveloping me tightly in his arms. I breathed him in, his usual scent of fresh pine and a vibrating greenness from the trees he handled coursing through my senses.

“Haru-ya,” he whispered into me. “You should have told me you were leaving, I would have come and gotten you, so you didn’t have to take the bus.”

I pulled back, taking in the pooling, content lightness of his stormy eyes in delight. “The walk was nice actually, and you were working anyways.” He was still wearing the thick, cargo jacket and sporting a black task belt filled with different equipment I knew nothing about. The title Environmental Field Specialist, Oh Sehun, was shining brightly on his chest.

“The walk was nicer than riding in a warm car with a handsome man?”

“A handsome man?” I pretended to look around, my eyebrows scrunching as I searched for such a culprit. “I’d have to find one first to know.”

Sehun tsked and I broke out into a light laugh, moving my hands to brush the snow and stiff thistle from his broad shoulders. “It was nice,” I stressed, “because I’m still getting use to the new neighborhood and I’ve found that there is lot to explore.”

Sehun let out a half-defeated-half-reprimanding sigh. “Still, call me next time,” he insisted, his fingers going to tuck a lock of my hair away. His touch was warm, and dare I say it, nicer than anything else.

I waved him off with a playful jest to my eyes anyway, taking a step away, but then he pulled me gently back, his stormy eyes suddenly serious. “Promise me, Haru. We can explore the neighborhood together if you want, just don’t go alone anymore.” He muttered gently, as if the thought of me walking alone in the cold pained him.

The air caught in my throat and I was struck silent by the pervasiveness of his demand, but regardless, a calming warmth spread through my body and I found myself nodding yes. His hand fully laced with mine, a thumb going delicately over the bend of my knuckles.

“C’mon,” he smiled, “Jisung and his friends are all inside.”

He pulled me up the stairs and into the small apartment he had always stayed in, the familiarity hitting me like a wall of cool, crystal water. The numbers 203 were gleaming in my mind as a photograph revisited countless times when he opened the door and led us inside. The first thing I remembered was the light.

Sehun always kept things so open and bright. Now, as the sun was setting, the apartment was basked in golden, beautiful light that illuminated the space and highlighted the blonde crown of Sehun’s locks in a halo of warmth. He looked lively then more than ever, a kind smile blooming on the quiet of his face and his fingers drumming lightly against mine as he watched me watching him.

The second thing I noticed was the homey kind of chaos that ensued around the space. Sehun’s small dog, Vivi, came running to my feet with a trail of whimpers following him, and in the living room, playful yells could be heard from the booming entertainment center.

“Hello,” I cooed, reaching down to pet an awfully vibrant Vivi, who was usually stuck up and only responded to Sehun. “Did you miss me? I missed you!” I patted his head and Sehun simply chuckled, looking fondly at the two of us before turning to call across the house for Jisung. Shortly after, Jisung came trotting out with six other boys in tow.

“Noona! You came!” He exclaimed, running over and embracing me in a quick hug. “I’ve missed you being over all the time.” I squeezed him tightly back, his young face twisting my heart. He looks exactly like Sehun did at that age— except somehow so much taller.

“I missed being here too.” I smiled, patting down his messy hair. “Are these friends from school?”

“We all play basketball together.” One of them said, sporting a boyish smile and kind eyes. “I’m Mark, the captain. It’s nice to meet you Noona.” He shook my hand and I couldn’t help but to return the smile.

The rest introduced themselves one by one. Renjun, the small one, and Jaemin, the oddly charismatic one, bickered about how Jisung is always forgetting his water bottle at home— to which Sehun glowered at. Chenle and Haechan, the loudest ones, were in a heated debate about something regarding the game they were playing. And lastly, Jeno, a mildly shy boy, shocked me by asking for a hug— something he apparently likes to do when greeting all new people. Sehun shook his shoulders at me as if to say it shocked him as well, but of course I gave him a hug.

Then they were back off to their game and it was just Sehun and I again. He nudged me before trailing off into the hallway that led to his room, throwing me an all grey look over his shoulder to make sure I was following. My feet shuffled after him, but all I could think about was my brother’s nasally kid voice always telling me I wasn’t allowed down there with them, that girls were a bore, especially little sisters, he would say.

Then Sehun would let me in anyway. I let the memory sit on my shoulders, its weight getting easier to hold.

Sehun’s room was just as I remembered it— well lived in and a little messy, but organized in his own fashion. The bedspread was still the same warm chocolate color and his walls were still the same shade of his light eyes, the ones he is flashing me now.

“The only thing that’s changed in here is you,” I remarked, touching the edge of his over-spilling bookshelf.

Sehun tilted his head in question, sitting back on his bed as he watched me lazily look through his room. “I’ve changed, really?” His hand was propped under his chin and his blonde hair was falling into his eyes. My fingers began to tingle in desire to run through the slightly knotted locks, to pull the strands through my digits and feel—

I blanked when an amused bend to his lips graced his angled face as he caught me staring. I turned away, pretending to look at the books so he couldn’t see the flush of color rushing to my face. “Yeah…” I almost coughed, “you look old now.”

Sehun snorted, throwing his head back. “Is that so?” He asked, a layer of husky playfulness coating his voice. “What exactly about me looks so old, huh?”

His laugh was contagious, and I found myself turning towards him. I neared his spot on the bed and he reached out to me, pulling me closer so I was standing over him and in between his legs. I pretended to inspect his face, drawing my eyes lightly over all of his features and following their movements with the pads of my small fingers. He let me, leaning gently into my touch as his hands rested on my hips.

“Your nose is longer,” I started with a short chuckle, tapping the bridge lightly. He raised a brow at me, but his eyes were sparkling. “And your face got quite bigger.”

“Seems like fair signs of aging,” he played along as I traced the outline of his face, coming to wrap his arms around my waist. We melted into one another, seemingly forgetting the painful circumstances that haunted us as our past became a point of comfort, of familiarity that propelled us together rather than pulled us apart. In the moment, there was just us two and nothing else mattered.

“Of course, there are so many wrinkles now too.” I finished with a smirk.

Sehun pretended to be offended. “Me? Having wrinkles? You must be blind.” He spilled out, reaching for my face to gently lower it to his. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

This time it was his turn as he looked over me, slightly prodding my skin and pinching the apples of my cheeks until I was giggling slightly under my breath. “Hmm,” he whispered with a crescent fall to his lips, his breath falling over me. “Nothing’s wrong here, they’re just as beautiful as ever.”

Somewhere along the way, we had ended up face to face. His nose was brushing against mine and all I could see was his stormy eyes gazing at me, the golden hue of the sunset filtering in through the window and surrounding us. I leaned into him and his warm hand settled on my cheek, pulling me closer as his—

The door slammed open and I jumped back. The two of us separated from shock, but at seeing that it was just Jisung’s form in the doorway, Sehun seemed to instinctively pull me closer again. It wasn’t until we really looked at Jisung, however, that we noticed his puffy red eyes and the blank look on his face as he stared down at his feet. He was holding his cellphone haphazardly in the palm of his hand, looking as if it were about to lose its grip and fall from his grasp at any second.

I went to ask what was surely on both of our minds, but Sehun beat me to it. “What happened?” He breathed out in building question.

Jisung took a slow, shuffled step forward before finally meeting Sehun’s gaze, a loose tear running down his small face. “Hyung—” he broke off, more tears falling freely.

Sehun stood up almost instantly, grabbing Jisung on the shoulders as he looked back and forth between him and the phone. “What’s wrong? Tell Hyung what happened.”

“M-mom called…” Jisung finally got out. Sehun’s face went blank, but his eyes darkened significantly. “She was trying to get me to meet her somewhere, b-but when I refused, she—” he choked, his face splotching in red. Sehun tried to calm him, one hand wiping tears away as the other patted his back. All I could do was stand helplessly, the image of them two weighing down the same image of my brother and I.

Jisung struggled. “—S-she got really mad and started yelling—”

Shh, Sehun soothed, his voice quivering slightly, but from the growing look in his eyes and the stiff posture building in his muscles, I could tell it was from anger. “You don’t have to say it.”

Sehun glanced over his shoulder and I froze from the pure intensity he was giving off, but his gaze softened as it landed on me. His eyes conveyed everything I needed to know in order to see that he wanted help. I quickly took the few steps over to them and Sehun maneuvered the phone from his grasp and stepped out once I had a hold on Jisung. His footsteps were booming as they walked from the room and through the front door, it slams behind him.

“Come here,” I breathed out, taking his hand. “Come sit down.”

“I hate crying.” Jisung sniffed, letting me pull him over to Sehun’s bed. He folded in half, rubbing his tears away with small fists as I patted his back lightly.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying.” I offered smally, not expecting his remark. “Noona cries all the time, so does your Hyung.”

Jisung looked up then, his red eyes watery and unbelieving. “Does he really?” He asked in a cracked voice.

“Of course. Everyone cries sometimes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with letting out your emotions and feeling whatever it is that you are feeling at this moment. Sometimes Sehun and I even cry together.”

Jisung’s face scrunched up, the tears slowly coming to a stop, but he didn’t say anything else or try to rub them away. We stayed silent until he had completely caught his breath, some healthy colors returning to his face.

“I don’t get it…” he trailed off, looking at the ground as if he was waiting for it to provide him with all of the answers to his questions. I found myself looking too, hoping in a sliver of chance that maybe it would. He let out a reserved huff, one that resonates the guttural exhale of what it means to be a young boy expected to handle everything like a grown man.

Men were pitiful like that, I’ve realized, stuck in a box that was their body, confined and betrayed by even their ability to express. I looked at him and was reminded of my own brother, a tightness surrounded my throat and my eyes began to burn. I set my hand atop his shoulder and tried to radiate every bit of support I could through my fingers and into the cool fabric of his red jersey.

Sehun entered then and the door creaked open as he pushed through the small wooden frame. He had to bend a little as to not hit his head, his large hand rested backwards onto his neck as he feverishly rubbed his blonde locks around. He looked tired as he made eye contact with me, the tired that is mental, the tired that rests in your bones. I knew this, for I too understood that unwarmable ache.

Pleasantries never worked, nor did your favorite movie on a Saturday night wrapped in pajamas that you deemed just right. You still clicked the TV remote off and let it sink back in, let the tired rest into your bones and whisper silence louder than any attempt to lighten yourself had ever spoken. I smiled at him, albeit a weak one, but it was genuine. He returned a soft gaze of his own, one that was so Sehun-like that I felt like no other gaze amounted to it. Stormy eyes blinked out a gentleness; a comfort that had always been there.

He rested next to Jisung and placed his hand in the same position as mine on his opposite shoulder, rocking his younger brother a bit before pulling him into his chest. My hand fell away and I closed them together in my lap, so I didn’t have to feel the absence of warmth.

The sight of brothers clinging together, always together, brought a tender image I felt connected to, yet so far distanced from that I found myself looking away, sniffing to acknowledge to myself that I was indeed real in this moment. Sehun stroked the top of Jisung’s identical blonde locks and looked down at him with a wiseness that he seemed to carry on his shoulders. It was the same look he would give my brother when they were growing up, and at times, would even give me.

It was a look he always had, even when he was young, and I, even younger. A soft smile of bitter sweetness glimpsed my face as I remembered.

“Halmeoni!” She cried with the anguish of tightened muddy fists and a tarnished dress, painted with the throes of play gone wrong. “Halmeoni!” She looked at the familiar, yet unfamiliar way in which strangers moved past her, their eyes reflecting the muddy remains of her dress.

“Whose child is that?” They whispered. “Who cares.” Another says.

Haru pushes past, suffocating within the bends of foot traffic and bike whistles, distant radios and patron chatter. Her eyes blur and she wails out in desperation just as someone grabs her arm tightly, pulling her to the side with the grip of heated intent.

“What’s the matter, my puppy, what happened? Where’s your brother at?” She recognized the sweet sigh of her grandmother’s voice. The distant, but firm smell of earthy mushrooms from their shop and the blue starch apron that was always wrapped around the bend of her wide hips. Haru collapsed against her side with huffs of pink lips exhaling the remainder of her stress and releasing the stares from cold, careless faces.

“Halmeoni, Oppa needs help!” She begged with tense eyes, taking fistfuls of that blue apron into her tiny palms. “He falled from the top, the top top Halmeoni! I-I told him to get up, to stop picking on me like you told me to do, b-but he won’t get up! Halmeoni,” she whined, tugging again, “Oppa won’t get up! Oppa won’t get up!”

“Oh, my puppy, my sweet Haru, what am I goin’ to do with you.” She clicked her tongue as her hand caressed the brown locks of Haru’s tangled hair and tucked them behind her ear.

“Dry them tears baby, here comes your Oppa now, and that handsome Oh Sehun boy beside him. Go on, look,” she coerced with a slight push, unfurrowing the small hands from her apron and giving them a loving pat. She reached down and pinched the soft flesh of Haru’s pink cheeks and Haru giggled, a tinkle of soft bells, before nodding her head and turning anxiously to find her Oppa.

She gasped once seeing them indeed coming up the road, her brother waving an arm in the air and Oh Sehun gazing on with that particular look of his. The grandmother simply chuckled before turning back around to tend to her rows of turnip roots, mushrooms, and other vegetables littered throughout the small shop.

Haru had a fresh set of crocodile tears falling down her face by the time she reached her brother and his best friend. She ran into his arms and he patted her head like older brothers do.

“Why you didn’t get up?” She accused, her fiery eyes demanding answers while sneakily running her gaze over her brother’s body, inspecting for wounds the size of watermelons she would beg her grandmother to cut into bite sizes during the summer months.

Her brother simply smiled. “I’m sorry, I was just catching my breath. Sehun will tell ya’, won’t you?” He nudged his best friend with a look of obligation, but Oh Sehun was already patting her small head with the same look of love her brother had given her.

“You don’t have to worry Haru-ya,” Sehun announced, his voice steady and warm. “I’ll take care of all the bad things before they happen, that way you won’t have to cry again.”

Haru dried her tears and held out her small pinkie finger as a response. “It not true if you don’t promise it.” Sehun laughed, but held his hand out, nonetheless. “And don’t forget to stamp it!” Their fingers pushed up against one another like walls of support and they both smiled, innocent, loving smiles.

A light hand fell against my knee and I blinked the memory away, looking at the large palm of Sehun’s warm hand as it rested against the dull material of my jeans. I had the urge to envelope that hand into my own, to hold onto it and force it to promise me like it did once ago to drive away all the bad things, to turn back time and make everything better again.

I wanted, in an unfair pleasure, to have Oppa back, to laugh with him and do normal things with him. I wanted to receive texts way after I had shut myself in my room, asking if I wanted ramen and if I wanted spicy or savory because he knew my answer would always be yes. I missed the constant chatter, the TV blaring as soon as I walked through the door because he constantly forgot to turn it off. I missed being loved, unconditionally, by one person who would always be there.

Was supposed to always be there.

It was unfair, but it isn’t a fairness I could change. And it isn’t a fairness Sehun could change either. He wasn’t ever able to, which in itself, is the most fitting, and yet unfitting thing to say about him.

I decided to hold his hand anyway. It felt nice in mine; it felt like it could warm my bones. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my knuckles and squeezed tightly. It was like he needed something to ground himself on— just as I held onto myself for reassurance, he reached out and held onto me. The grip, though warm and gentle, felt foreign, like the grip only knew how to comfort, not to receive.

It made me wonder, who was ever there for him?

Just as easily as he held on, he let go. And as if one was normally able to see warmth leave your body, I saw it leave his with a tremble of his fingers and a dullness of responsibility in his gaze.

“Listen,” he spoke clearly, pulling Jisung back to look him properly in the eyes. “There are going to be people in this world, no matter where you are, that will try to tell you how to feel about yourself. They’re going to tell you that what you feel isn’t real, that what you feel isn’t right. They will de-validate you every chance they get in order to validate themselves. Do you get what I mean?” He asked firmly, his stormy eyes searching intently for something I wasn’t even sure of.

Jisung sniffed, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. I pushed a tissue from my pocket into his palm, to which he took absentmindedly. “I guess… I just don’t get why. Why would she call me after such a long time, call me close to Christmas,” he seemed to correct himself, his words like embers from a dying fire. “Why call to just tell me that she’s tired of trying and that I’m a lost cause? What does that even mean?”

Sehun sighed through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for the smallest of moments before pulling Jisung back into a hug. He looked almost motherly then, as if he was willing to be, to do, whatever it took to protect Jisung. Protect, though, felt like a small word in light of what I felt Sehun would do for those around him. He was extraordinary in that way, selfless in the most self-driven way.

“She says those things because it is easier for her to believe that you are the problem instead of acknowledging that she is the problem. That’s where you have to know inside that what she says isn’t true, that everyone else doesn’t get to say who you are or what you are capable of being. You and only you get to decide that.

“It’s an awful lot to ask of one person, but I need to know that you understand that there is nothing wrong with you. Can you promise me that you won’t listen to her when she says things like that?”

It was Jisung’s turn to sigh this time, his though, was short and contemplative, it came from the head instead of the gut. “I promise... I guess.”

“You guess?” Sehun asked in the same way Oppa used to when I back talked him.

Jisung turned and looked at me instead of answering Sehun. It shocked me inside and my eyes widened, remembering that I was here too, not just watching from the outside, but actually a part of something important. Jisung pouted his lips out, but his eyes were suddenly dancing. I knew that look and for a few seconds, I felt light in anticipation.

“Noona,” he deadpanned in a very no-nonsense manner. I looked at him straight before he said rapidly in one breath. “Please-date-Hyung-already-he’s-an-inch-from-being-seventy-years-old-and-I-fear-that-you’re-his-last result-for-liveliness-I-mean-you-should-have–”

Sehun let out an indecipherable blurt of words, quickly reaching for Jisung’s mouth to stop him from continuing. Jisung’s laughter escaped through his palm, however, lightening the room with every outburst. “–shood’ve heen ‘em pashin’,” he struggled against Sehun, his eyes turned half-moons before finally freeing himself from his grip “–waiting for you to call!”

“Oo-okay,” Sehun ended, picking up a cackling Jisung by the arms and pulling him from the bed. Jisung gave me a few half attempts at winks over Sehun’s large body before Sehun covered his face with him palm and pushed him out the door. “Since you are so funny now, go be funny somewhere else.”

“Ahh Hyung,” Jisung whined, looking like the smallest fourteen-year old I had ever seen. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Sehun slammed the door in his face, completely unmoved by Jisung’s efforts. It was times like this that I remembered they were siblings, young siblings, before everything else. Maybe it was the most important thing to remember about them, yet the easiest forgotten.

Sehun waited patiently by the door until he heard the video game music cue backup and Jisung laugh at something one of the boys had said. His shoulders seemed to relax then and he finally turned away, coming back to the bed and plopping down beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he directed at me around a huffy laugh. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were lightly dusted in petal-like pink. I thought he looked awfully cute then, and though a small part of me felt that feelings as such were too unfitting of our circumstances, another significantly disagreed.

“Don’t apologize,” I said as I fell onto my back beside him. “I’m just glad Jisung is feeling a little better. Your mom sounds…” I trailed off, not wanting to say anything to worsen the mood— although like an asshole, was resting on the tip of my tongue.

Sehun hummed in response, a low, guttural one that made my insides tingle and a soft shiver to run up the expanse of my back. A swirling haze of clouded grey was pooling in the depths of his eyes that felt endless as we sat still and breathed on another in. His eyes housed a lifetime of enduring, of letting it all in and swallowing it down one grain of salt at a time. A grain for every loss of innocence, a pinch for each disappointment, a spoonful for building regrets, and a handful of molding heartache— he was cooking inside, and it was bubbling up, over, and into the space he allowed me to exist in. There was only a small crack he hinged open to fit a hand through in hopes that someone would hold on.

He gazed on at me and I gazed back, as simple and completely un-simple as that.

“There were times that were good,” he furrowed his eyebrows as if it was hard to speak. “It wasn’t always this way, I guess. But still, you can say it, she is an asshole,” he smiled one of those not so happy smiles and I tried to return the favor, but the notion didn’t quite translate.

“When Jisung was born, I really thought they had changed. Dad came back from America and ran the business remotely, and Mom stopped—” he paused, and my insides broiled, but he knew I had known for a long while and so he settled on, “—the abuse.

“They love Jisung, they really do, even if they suck at being parents. But even so, they aren’t good to be around and there’s no way I can sit and let her do to Jisung what she did to me. Especially since Dad left and I am no longer the small, easily manipulated boy anymore. There is no one else but Jisung to take her anger out on.

“He misses her, though, I can see it when he looks at the other mothers at his school or comes back from his friend’s houses and talks about how kind their parents are.” He gulped as he looked into me with unsteady, dissolving ends. “Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough.

“Am I doing the right thing Haru?” He whispered and the crack in his large wall grew a little more.

I felt overwhelmed in the moment, a wall of frost falling around us and encapsulating the sacks that held the soup of us inside. Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough. Sometimes, I’m afraid to figure out what enough is.

Instinct, really, is what drove me to reach out for him, to stop the numbing and reach for the fire. To say it was anything else would be purely extrapolation. It was embedded in me to reach out, but for him, it was a new sensation, a bleeding of orange and yellow ink into the thin lines of his torn skin. He held on, though. And when our foreheads rested against one another’s, his body was left shaking and needy, dripping the salty exhaustion of boiling so much frost inside.

I spoke when he was warmed.

“I think that enough and right thing will never be a judgement I can make for you, maybe not even for myself. I can’t tell you what makes sense or why things are the way they are. Those are all things we have to come to ourselves, in our own time.” My hand reached out and gently grasped the side of his chiseled face. His skin was warm and soft, and he closed his eyes against my touch. “I can tell you that being here, right now, and feeling upset, afraid, doubting yourself, being unsure of the future, or anything else, is okay. Sehun, it’s okay to not know and it’s okay to not be okay.

“All we can do as people is feel everything there is to feel, soak it up and process it, but then we let it go. What we decide to do from there is exactly what we were meant to do— enough and right thing will never factor into that because you are simply you and your actions will only ever be yours.”

His eyes fluttered open, his long lashes bouncing with the weight of unshed tears— tears that I would guess hadn’t seen daylight in a long time. “Jisung loves you and he is protected, loved, and accepted unconditionally by you. Those are things that you, solely, provide for him with no guidance and no one asking you to do it. If enough exists, then you will always be enough for Jisung.

“And for me.” I added as an afterthought.

He took a while to say anything and I imagined he was soaking it in as he slowly evolved me into his grasp. His fingers became nimble petals, leaving light traces of growth on the small of my back and the soft of my arm as he bloomed all around me, sliding his tender rooted fingers into the locks of my hair. He breathed in my oxygen and I breathed in his grounding presence until we were buried into one another.

“You won’t leave me, right?” He asked in tightened fingers and pollinated yellows.

“No,” I promised. “And you won’t leave me?”

“I’m yours, Haru-ya, that’s never changed.” He planted a delicate kiss across the loam of my forehead and breathed out the words I knew I had wanted to hear for a long time. “And if it’s what you want, then we can be each other’s.”

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lilymanaged · 4 years

Text

just a little bit of your heart

hello its me, ya girl, back with fic

okay so this was originally supposed to be part of a longer fic, but I lost the motivation because I moved tf on (there was a boy, he sucked, I began to write, then I realized that he was not worth my energy so I stopped), but I really kinda like this bit so here is it! in the original fic, there was supposed to a redemption arc, but obviously that isn't going to happen. enjoy anyway!

AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started when she was fifteen.

She had known him before, of course - hard not to know someone who lives just across the common room from you, who was so visible at all times, who was so beloved by students and teachers alike. He was the star of the Quidditch team already, lapping the upperclassmen in skill and devotion. He was the top of the class, naturally smart and hardworking. He Was...and she Was Not. And that’s just the way it was.

Something had changed that day, mid-January, Charms classroom. It was bitterly cold outside, but the castle was warm and bright.

Maybe it was the light from the fire lit behind Professor Flitwick’s desk, or the snow falling gently outside the castle, or maybe Lily had just tilted her head to the perfect angle that her hair fell off her shoulder to reveal her neck in an appealing way, but he approached her as she was packing up her things, halting her movements. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and he smiled charmingly down at her.

“Hey,” James said, voice deep. She shivered. “I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I am really just not understanding mobility charms. You know, summoning, banishing, those kinds of things. Would you mind helping me out a bit later? You’re the only person here who seems to get it.”

Lily’s mouth responded before her brain could catch up. “And what’s in it for me? I don’t reveal my secrets for just anyone, and definitely not for free.”

He chuckled, eyes alight with mirth. “Name your price.”

Lily blushed, stepping back a little. He shifted his weight forward, almost following her, and watched intently as she gathered her books into her arms, pressing them against her chest tightly in a vague attempt to force her heart to slow.

“Flying lessons,” she said, shocking herself a little. “My secrets for yours.”

He nodded, stepping fully into her space. At this point, they were the only ones left in the classroom, the rest of the students on their way to lunch already.

“My secrets for yours,” he repeated, reaching out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re dangerous, Red.” Lily’s eyes widened, staring up at him in disbelief. His gaze shifted downward, searching her face and causing her flush to deepen.

“Dangerous?” she replied, voice faint.

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes locking with hers. “Dangerous. For me. I’ll see you later.”

With that, he stepped away, looking over her one more time before turning and exiting the classroom. Lily slumped back down to her stool, placing her books on the table and pressing her forehead to them. She struggled to catch her breath and slow her erratic heart, cursing James Potter mildly in her head, dreading what might happen later.

What she had originally written off as a minor crush, maybe a physical attraction, soon bloomed into full-blown infatuation. Their study sessions stopped being study sessions very quickly, turning into conversations that left Lily shaking slightly under his intense attention. James was nothing if not engrossed in everything she had to say, and she often felt herself losing focus when his eyes met hers, burning with curiosity or confusion. Although they never got anywhere with the flying, really, Lily felt herself being less reluctant to share her so-called secrets as time went on. As long as James kept looking at her that way, he could frankly have whatever he wanted from her.

Which is why, come March, she had given him almost every piece of her heart, despite his lack of asking nor any confessed desire for it. Lily would all but float up to her dorm after spending time with James, gushing to Marlene and Dorcas about every word he said, every time his hand brushed hers, while Mary looked on warily.

“Lily, has he asked you out?” she asked one day in April, eyebrows knit as she sat next to Lily on the window seat of their dorm. The turret looked out onto the grounds, and Lily was looking over the grass, eyes glazed over dreamily, ignoring the book situated in her lap. They were supposed to be studying for their upcoming exams in June.

“Hmm?”

“James, Lily. Has he asked you out yet?” Mary continued, eyes searching Lily’s face.

Lily’s brows knit together, and her smile dropped a bit. “No, Mare. He hasn’t.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Lily shifted in her seat, refusing to meet Mary’s eyes. After a moment, she looked up, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied, exasperated, voice thick. “I don’t know.”

Mary turned toward Lily, pulling her friend into her arms. She allowed Lily to cry, stroking her hair gently until the sobs subsided. After a while, Lily pulled away, standing up.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed. Can we study tomorrow?” Mary nodded, and Lily walked away. She climbed into bed, pulling the canopy curtains closed abruptly.

The next morning, Lily was hyper-aware of James, and actively forced herself to be positive around him, upbeat. He sat beside her at breakfast, laughing at all her snarky jokes and playing with the ends of her hair. She felt Mary’s eyes on her, and resolutely ignored her, choosing instead to focus on the positive: James was right beside her, and it felt like she was bathing in his warm glow. Internally, she felt pathetic, vying for any scrap of love he would throw her way, but she was also resolutely ignoring that feeling.

Lily was focusing on the positive.

She was positive that this was going to crush her when it was all over.

And then, everything was fine until it wasn’t. The next year passed in a blur, and nothing changed between them. Lily watched as James dated other people, anyone who wasn’t her, while still calling her his best girl, holding her close and yet an arm’s length away. She tells herself that he is scared - scared of the depth of emotion between them, the absolute understanding that exists when they look at one another. He calls her dangerous to him, a minx sent to drive him crazy, tells her that she’s worth a million of him, places her on a pedestal when all she wants is for him to reach over and take her, choose her, love her. And yet, he never does quite pick her.

A little after Christmas of their fifth year, Lily gets mad and starts to date too, fueled by a desire to show him how it feels, show him what he is missing. Bertram Aubrey, a Ravenclaw in the year above them, agrees to a date to Hogsmeade and, before she even realizes it, she actually starts to like him. Spending time with Aubrey takes her away from James, and the horrible, heartsick feeling he represents. Bert is kind to her, attentive, enjoys her company. And so, she lets it happen.

She is happy with Bert, she realises one day in early April. The feeling takes her aback — she didn’t know she would really feel happy with someone who wasn’t James — and she decides she likes it. She tells Bert, and he is elated, kissing her breathless in the hallway in front of everyone. She smiles brightly at him, and ignores the lingering sensation of guilt in the back of her mind.

And everything is fine, until it isn’t.

Because now, here she is, standing by the Lake after their Transfiguration OWL, staring James down. He’s laughing, and his friends laugh with him. Snape is shouting abuse, and then she is too, telling James to leave Severus alone.

He will, he says, smile widening as he looks at her. It’s a nice smile, and Lily’s heart beats a little faster when she sees it. She quickly admonishes herself, waiting for the punchline.

“....if you go out with me.”

She starts, face heating up, and the words hang in the air between them. He’s making fun of her, she realises, playing on the love that she keeps tucked away inside herself, Lily’s worst kept secret. Lily feels whatever is left of her heart inside her chest break, shatter into a million pieces right in front of his eyes, and shouts at him for the first time.

James stumbles back as if he had been smacked in the face, and Lily gets a little thrill in her chest at his shocked expression. She blacks out a little, emotions high as the exchange continues and Snape ends the last remote traces of their feeble friendship.

When she finally walks away, surface emotion a disgusted rage - at Snape, at James, and mostly at herself for thinking anything would ever change. She frantically makes her way all the way to her dorm, throwing herself on her bed, and unleashes all the pent up frustration and hurt. Her roommates return about a half hour later, presumably after hearing every detail of the big showdown, to the room absolutely trashed. Lily allowed the magic to flow through her, and it resulted in slashed curtains, broken pillows, shoes and clothes littering the floor. Mary and Emmeline curl themselves around her in her bed and Marlene and Dorcas put the room to rights, and Lily cries until she falls asleep. Later, when she looks back on that afternoon by the Lake, Lily recognizes it as the true end of her childhood — any lingering optimism or romantic hopes had shattered the moment her heart did.

#jey? writing angst? more likely than you think #jily fic #james potter #lily evans #jily #please do not come for me I Know its not ideal #also I know its a weird verb tense #my writing

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