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cheesybadgers · 3 months

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 22)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,985

Summary: As Horacio's and Javier's stay in Manizales comes to an end, Elena has some words of wisdom and an unexpected offer for their future.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, religious themes, brief non-explicit sexual references, smoking, swearing.

Notes: As promised, here's the second half of their Manizales adventures. I'm still wrestling with editing chapter 23 at the moment, plus life has been kind of busy/stressful lately, so not sure when it will be ready to post. But the finish line is definitely within touching distance now ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading/commenting/making moodboards and playlists or drawing, I'm blown away when my fic inspires others to create. I'll be making a proper masterlist once the fic is finished, where I'll link to everything people have made or have suggested playlist songs etc., plus there'll be my own playlist and moodboards.

Feel free to drop me a comment, whether it's about the new chapter or an older one, I'm always happy to chat 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 22: Past, Present, Future

The early morning mist transformed into drizzle in the time it took Horacio to run around the farm boundaries, the spray cooling his clammy skin as he worked up a sweat. He left Javier to wake and shower at his own leisurely pace, a routine they had settled into since arriving here. Although two mornings ago, both Javier and Alejandra were suspiciously worse-for-wear, and Horacio didn’t see much of either of them until after lunch.

Today, they planned to join one of Fabián’s tours, which included a coffee-tasting session. So, even if the exercise hadn’t woken Horacio up, the caffeine certainly would.

The rain eased off once back at the finca, sunrays now straining to break through the low clouds as Horacio showered and dressed, somehow still beating Javier.

Tempting aromas from the kitchen let Horacio know his Mamá was already up and about after making the children breakfast before Alejandra dropped them off at school.

As he sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a glass of orange juice – his usual coffee would wait for later – both cats, Caturra and Bourbon, took turns rubbing themselves against his legs.

“You and Alejandra loved that stray cat when you were young,” said Elena, who had appeared from the larder with her arms full of eggs, chorizo and arepas. “What was her name?”

“Estrella.”

“She was the next best thing to a jaguar, and you were desperate to see one back then.”

“I remember. Never did, though.”

“Not many get the privilege these days.”

“Can’t say I blame them for keeping out of sight.”

Horacio remembered his Abuela Margarita telling him stories of how the jaguar, snake and condor were the original creators of the world and how the jaguar was tricked by man into parting with its power of fire. The feline creature was forced to survive on its cunning and strength alone, prowling around the mountains and jungles of Colombia, waiting patiently to exact revenge.

For too long, Horacio had stalked, clawed and mauled his prey all over Medellín, seeking vengeance on those who betrayed his country and its people. He was an apex predator maintaining balance and order in the food chain, not out of choice but necessity. A reluctant warrior backed into a corner until a palpable sense of duty kicked in when the threat was too real to ignore.

But whatever the unseen truth was, jaguars gained a reputation as ferocious killers, feared by humans until they became the hunted rather than the hunter, gunned down and chased into hiding and a life of solitude. An act of cowardice by the jaguar on the face of it, but these days, Horacio liked to think of it as an evolutionary advantage, the opposite side of the fight-or-flight coin.

“It’s understandable, yes. But a life in the shadows has its drawbacks.”

“True. But there can be a certain kind of freedom in the dark. Especially when those with flares want you dead.”

“Not everyone offering light wants that, Mijo.”

Horacio, who had focused on the floor for most of the conversation, finally looked up, hazel eyes mirrored back at him with extra shades of wisdom. His dour expression softened, and his shoulders sagged in concession. “I know.”

“Whilst I’ve got you here…” Elena trailed off, disappearing upstairs before returning with a small wooden trinket box.

She sat down at the table and extracted a gold chain from the box. “He’d want you to have it.”

Horacio stared at the pendants that swung back and forth like a pendulum clock as Elena held them out towards him. His cheeks hollowed, and his lips formed a sharp pout from how tightly he held his jaw in place. “Mamá, I can’t. Not after everything. Not after I ran away.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After I was injured, I went into hiding...in Laredo, Texas. And I quit.” He grasped his hands together and bowed his head as though in prayer, but he wasn’t sure even God could help him now he had confessed his sins. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. And I know you’re probably wondering why I went –”

“Javier.”

Horacio froze, undecided if he was caught off guard by the mention of Javier’s name or how he could hear his Mamá’s smile as she said it, as though it was the most glaringly obvious response anyone could ever have given.

“It’s okay, Mijo. You don’t have to explain yourself. He told me about the ranch whilst you and Alejandra cleaned up on your first night here.”

“That’s how you knew?”

“Well, not only that. I might be older these days, but I’m not blind.”

Elena chuckled, but Horacio could tell it wasn’t at his expense. So, he allowed his jaw some leeway, unclenching his teeth and facial muscles, almost appreciating the ache left behind. A chain reaction surged through his body, tension unknowingly carried for decades ebbing away now the secret he once believed would follow him to his grave was not only out but wasn’t being held against him.

And so he threw caution to the wind and let the floodgates open. He told his Mamá about Madrid and working on the ranch, about their plans for the future, about life in Laredo and even the crucifix, just in case she had noticed its absence and assumed the worst.

Talk of the crucifix prompted Elena to take one of Horacio’s hands in hers, where she deposited her gift of gold before he could refuse. “Take it. Please.” Her hand formed a dome over Horacio’s, fingers gently squeezing.

Once Elena withdrew, Horacio unfurled his palm and stared down at his very own El Dorado. “After my injury, I’d dream about this sometimes. And the stories you and Abuelita Mirabel told us about Bochica. I wish it’d been as easy as striking a staff to stop Escobar.”

“Bochica might have saved his people from drowning, but he couldn’t save them from the conquistadors and their gold-digging.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know you don’t approve of Madrid, Mamá. And I know I’m no Bolívar, but –”

“Mijo, what are you talking about? I know you had your reasons for Madrid – even the second time. That’s not what I meant. And no one’s asking you to be Bolívar.”

A salient monument dedicated to Simón Bolívar stood in the centre of Manizales. The statue was half-man, half-condor, each entity synonymous with the other as national symbols of freedom and sovereignty. It still stung for Horacio to be reminded he had worn the Colombian coat of arms on his uniform sleeve every day, the proud condor flying above the motto Libertad y Orden (Freedom and Order) with Dios y Patria (God and Country) sworn beneath. But unlike Bolívar and Bochica, Horacio was unable to liberate his people.

Instead, he had sought refuge in two countries that had interfered the most with Colombia's autonomy. He had made a home on the land of the former Empire and used the gringos to his advantage when it suited him, never mind allowing one of them into his heart and bed.

Elena pressed her hand tenderly to Horacio’s cheek, the conflict in his mind apparently written all over his face. It was an action he had been on the receiving end of throughout childhood, but one that still had the power to soothe him as though no time had passed since.

“You’re also forgetting Chibchacum’s role in Bochica’s story,” she continued. “He was the one punished to carry the world on his back for creating the flood in the first place. Bochica did the best he could in terrible circumstances, and that’s all anyone could ask for.”

Memories re-surfaced of Abuelita Mirabel sitting between Horacio and Alejandra on the sofa, a blanket spread across the three of them, where she told of how every time there was an earthquake in Colombia, it was the weight of the world shifting on Chibchacum’s back. Little did Horacio know that would become a feeling he was all too familiar with when he was older.

But his Mamá was right; he wasn’t Chibchacum or Bochica. And he certainly wasn't Bolívar. But neither was his Papá.

So, he took a deep breath and raised the chain to unclip the fastening. From there, he attached it behind his neck, letting the deity and the angel finally rest against his skin.

“Beautiful,” Elena said, her eyes suddenly glossy and the corner of her lips twitching.

“Thank you.” Horacio held his Mamá’s gaze until it was necessary to look away and clear his throat. “What else is in there, anyway?” He swiftly motioned towards the box.

Elena passed it over to Horacio so he could look for himself. Nestled inside were his Papá’s wedding ring and lapel pins, his Abuelo Ignacio’s St. Michael’s cross, rosary beads, an old pack of Deportivo Independiente Medellín trading cards, a postcard of an orange grove with handwriting Horacio recognised as his Mamá’s on the back, and a black and white photograph of a young boy draped in a police jacket that was far too big for him. Behind him stood his father in the rest of the uniform the jacket belonged to.

“Is that Papá and Abuelo Ignacio?”

Elena laughed. “Of course!” She got up again without explanation, re-appearing with a photo album this time.

She flicked through it until she found what she was looking for. “Where do you think we got the idea for this from?”

She was pointing at an almost identical picture. The two boys in the photos had the same thick dark hair and charcoal eyes, a resemblance that would carry through into adulthood – although Horacio built up more muscle than his father ever did.

Horacio smiled. “I remember that being taken. It was my first day at school.”

“It was his idea before you set off for school, and he set off for work. He made sure I was ready with the camera when you came downstairs in your uniform.”

“I never knew it was his idea.” The dejection was evident in Horacio’s voice, even if he tried to hide it.

“He might not have said it much, but he was so proud of you, you know. And so am I.”

Horacio swallowed hard with his eyes shut, anything to hold himself together. “I used to take this when you weren’t looking,” he managed to get out, gesturing towards the photo album. “Same with some of the other old albums we had. Well, I kept a couple of them, actually.” He chuckled at the thought of the albums currently residing on a shelf in Madrid. “I always went back to the photos and his uniform for some reason.”

“You didn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Neither did you with us.”

“I know. But you were both so young. You didn’t need that burden on top of everything else.”

“You could never be a burden, Mamá.”

“You and Alejandra were busy forging your careers. I had to stay strong at work, helping people worse off than me. So, I saved most of it for my prayers and Día de Todos los Santos.”

Horacio remembered attending Mass and his Papá’s grave every Día de Todos los Santos. But it was different to Día de Muertos. They weren’t welcoming his Papá home; they were praying for those in purgatory and heaven. And as much as he liked to think his Papá was a saint, there was always a part of him terrified that if he didn’t pray hard enough, his Papá would never be cleansed of his sins.

“I was in Laredo for Día de Muertos. Javier’s father – Chucho – had a box like this for Javier’s mother – Mariana. He used it to make an ofrenda for her.”

Another piece of the puzzle seemed to click into place for Elena in a look that combined realisation with sympathy. Another loss, another parallel, another explanation.

“A beautiful tradition,” she concluded.

“Yeah, it is. One that remembers the people we’ve lost as we knew them and welcomes them back home.”

“A bit like this, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

“Whilst we’re here…there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

“Money from the house sale in Medellín has been sitting in a bank account since I moved here, along with some left over from your Papá. The plan was to split it between you and Alejandra when I’m gone, but…why wait?”

“What? But Mamá, that’s your money.”

“Technically, half of it is your Papá’s. But he’s not here. And who better to put that money to good use than his children?”

“Even though I wouldn’t have children of my own to return the favour one day?”

It was a question that had lingered on the tip of Horacio’s tongue since arriving here. A question he had tried to ignore for a long time before that, if he was honest. He learned of Juliana’s first pregnancy from his Mamá, who had heard the news from a friend of a friend. That was all she said on the matter, but Horacio was never sure whether he imagined the traces of disappointment in her voice that it wasn’t his child.

“Horacio, do you really think that matters to me?”

There was no disappointment in Elena’s tone now, just incredulous confusion that made Horacio regret his words.

“Even if I wasn’t surrounded by my amorcitos every single day, I would want you and Alejandra to make your own choices. Live your own lives. If that doesn’t involve children for you, then so be it.”

Horacio nodded, his lungs expelling a freeing breath he hadn't been aware was trapped in the depths of his rib cage. “Have you spoken to Alejandra about the money?”

“Not yet. But I know the farm needs repairs, and they’ve always got plans for this place. Same as the ranch.”

“I don’t own the ranch, though, Mamá.”

“No. But from everything you’ve told me about Chucho, he obviously trusts you with his business. And I don’t imagine you and Javier will want to live in a guesthouse for the rest of your lives. Visas don’t come cheap, either.”

Of course, she was right on all three counts. Horacio had a lot of on-the-job training ahead of him. He would effectively be starting from scratch again. But Chucho had welcomed him with open arms into his home and livelihood. It wasn’t implausible that if Horacio had ideas for the ranch, Chucho would take them on board.

They hadn't discussed living arrangements yet, but Horacio was confident neither he nor Javier had envisaged the guesthouse as a permanent solution. And then there was the small matter of Horacio’s visa. The paperwork upon which their future in Laredo hinged. He tried not to think about all the different ways it could go wrong or what they would do if it did. But that was a problem for another day. A problem that would no doubt be made easier with extra money in tow.

So, he ignored the whispering ghosts of his ancestors because his Mamá was right; he wasn’t doing this for his Papá. And he certainly wasn’t doing it for the people of Colombia, past or present.

“Okay,” he said in the end. “But only if Alejandra agrees to it, too.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caught them off guard and drew a temporary line under the conversation.

“Morning,” Javier greeted as he hovered by the kitchen door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” Of course, he knew he was and an apology with his eyes was all he could offer Horacio for the time being.

“Good morning, Javier. And on the contrary! How do you feel about calentado?”

Whatever Javier had been expecting Elena’s response to be, for some reason, it wasn’t that. He looked towards Horacio for the slightest hint about what he had walked in on.

Horacio wanted to explain everything – and later he would – but for now, he ushered Javier to sit down.

“Er, sounds perfect, thanks,” Javier told Elena as his foot found Horacio’s under the table.

And as the three of them chatted and helped prepare breakfast, Horacio had to admit Javier was right.

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The coffee tour took up the rest of the morning. It was no wonder Horacio had always been particular on the subject when he knew which were the best beans and blends to be found in Colombia. He still had occasional pangs for his former life, but the weak instant shit the gringos brought with them to Carlos Holguín wasn’t one of them.

Naturally, the heavens opened before the end of the tour – bad for the tourists but good for the soil – and by the time they had returned to the finca, another shower was required.

They showered together, the finca empty for a change. Plus, they had nothing to hide anymore – at least not with the people that mattered the most. That hadn’t quite sunk in for Horacio even after he told Javier everything. Even when his last defences buckled, and he broke down in Javier's arms, letting himself be held. Even when he was kissing Javier, slow and deep, in his family’s bathroom, their breaths heavy and desperate in such a confined space.

One thing could easily have led to another as Horacio pinned Javier against the cold tiles, bare skin seeking out bare skin, emotions running high. There was no doubt they wanted it to, and in almost any other circumstance, it would have.

“Not here,” Horacio whispered, his voice shaking and his forehead falling against Javier’s as he was hit by a sudden clarity of thought. “I’m sorry.”

Javier hushed lightly, cradling Horacio against his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed across damp hair, running his fingers through thick strands that always became curlier when wet. “We don’t have to do anything.”

Light strokes soon morphed into lathered hands as Javier washed and rinsed Horacio’s hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp and soothing away stubborn remnants of tension.

Although a niggling knot remained, an unspoken question and an uninitiated conversation. “When I was talking with my mother earlier…” Horacio began, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to let the hot jets cascade down his neck and shoulders.

Javier hummed in encouragement, his lips following the water droplets, enveloping Horacio in a blanket of warmth from all angles.

“She reassured me she wouldn’t be disappointed if I never had children.” Horacio let his words hang in the white noise of the shower, giving Javier time to adjust to the change of subject.

“Did you think she would be?”

“It crossed my mind. So much has been passed down through the Carrillo side of my family. From my Abuelo to my Papá. From my Papá to me.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but four of your nieces and nephews are around here somewhere.”

Horacio let out a light huff. “Like I could forget. But…they’re Alejandra’s, not mine.”

“I know. But I think you’re forgetting the real question here. Would you be disappointed?”

“Back when I was younger, when I was with Juliana, I might’ve said yes. More out of expectation than anything else. But with you…I think we ripped up and threw away the rule book a long time ago.”

“Thank fuck for that. We’ve never been very good at following rules anyway.”

It didn't take long for them both to laugh at such a flagrant understatement.

“So, you do feel the same then?” Horacio asked in earnest.

“I was less than an hour away from getting my very own white fucking picket fence. If I’d wanted it, I could’ve had it. But that wasn’t my idea of the American Dream.”

Horacio turned in Javier’s arms, and the last seed of doubt was finally plucked from his mind. His lips captured Javier’s again, a statement of intent for their future. A future they no longer had to hide from their families.

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Javier seated himself in the large wooden gazebo at the end of the garden, which doubled as a viewing platform over the steep valley below. For once, sunlight had won the battle against the mist, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It made it possible to see for miles, giving the illusion of being high amongst the surrounding trees alongside the raucous birdlife living in their branches.

It was their penultimate morning in Manizales, upon which Javier had changed a habit of a lifetime by getting up with Horacio. They had penned in some sightseeing of the city later. But for now, Horacio had gone for his usual run, and Javier started the day with possibly the best coffee he had ever drunk.

“May I join you?”

Javier looked up from his cup and cleared his throat. “Oh, er, of course.”

As Elena sat down, the sun glinted off the silver jewellery bonded to Javier’s chest, making them squint at its reflection. He instinctively brought a hand to his neck in a fumbled effort to shove the crucifix beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“You don’t need to do that, you know.”

Fuck. He'd been busted.

However, Elena's voice contained no traces of judgment, and it quickly put Javier at ease. He lowered his hand to his knee, giving a brief bob of the head before taking another sip of coffee.

“I still wear these.” Elena raised her left hand, showing off a sparkling diamond ring above a plain gold band. “The amount of awkward questions about the whereabouts of my husband these have caused over the years. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take them off. Although…”

With her right hand, she took hold of the top ring and wiggled it off her finger, then did the same with the second ring, with more force required this time.

Javier wasn’t sure what was happening until the dappled morning light fell on the inside of the ring he held up to his face.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja

(Lucky that I found my soulmate)

“It’s beautiful.”

“Eduardo wasn’t a man of many words, but he had his moments.” Elena’s smile took on a wistful appearance as Javier passed the ring back.

“My Pops is the same with his wedding ring. He insists on wearing it every day, which isn’t really compatible with the day job.”

“I can imagine. I hear it became Horacio’s day job, too?”

“Yeah,” Javier said with an involuntary grin. “I know it might be hard to believe, and I know it’s not what he expected, but it suits him.” Literally as well figuratively, he managed to stop himself from blurting out.

“I can’t remember him ever saying he wanted to be anything other than a police officer. My parents ran a textile business, and Eduardo’s mother was a nurse. But Horacio followed his father, who followed his father like it was their birthright. I always worried about Eduardo, especially if he was running late or was called to an emergency. Then it was the same with Horacio, too. So much blood spilt on our doorsteps, on our streets, in our churches.”

Elena promptly picked up her cup, the balm of hot fruit tea required before she could continue.

“Whenever the phone rang – or I heard a knock at the door – I prepared for the worst. It happened to so many friends and neighbours. So why not my husband or son? Of course, it was Eduardo’s heart in the end. But once Search Bloc made Horacio a walking target, it was only a matter of time. I’d spent years expecting it, but what I hadn’t accounted for in all of my fretting, pacing, and prayers…was you.”

“Me?”

“He told me what you did. How much trouble you and your partner got in for it. How you got injured yourself. How…you saved my son and his men.”

“We couldn’t save them all,” was Javier’s sole response to the lashings of praise he still wasn’t convinced he truly deserved in light of how the ambush came about in the first place.

“You saved more than your superiors were willing to, by the sounds of it.”

Javier scoffed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Good. And as for the ranch…he’s always liked to keep busy. Just like his father, he could never sit still and relax for long. I can see it. I bet he looks the part.”

“He does, actually.” That was allowed, Javier told himself.

“I thought something had changed after his injury, even if he wouldn’t tell us much. I hoped he’d seen sense, but I knew he was prepared to die for that mission of his – that obsession. I’d almost accepted it, to be honest, especially without Eduardo around to stop him. So, when he told me he’d quit, you were the only reason that made sense.”

“Ever since my Mamá passed, I tried to change things – or control them, at least. Anything to not feel that…helpless again. But it didn’t work like that. Walking away was the only choice left.”

“But it was a choice you both made. That can’t have been easy. I may not have known you very long, but it’s already clear to me you’re good for each other.”

“Even though I’m a gringo?”

“We all have our flaws.” Not only did Elena catch the humour in Javier’s eyes, but she matched and surpassed it with her own. “But to answer your question properly…I would say the complicated histories of our homelands have more in common than meets the eye.”

Javier hummed as he had flashbacks to high school of learning about Laredo starting life as a Spanish colonial settlement before a bloody tug-of-war between Mexico and America – and independence from both – had broken out. There was no denying he had benefited from certain privileges of owning an American passport, and he’d always accepted the gringo label without much pushback. But deep down, he knew it was only half the story.

“You’ve shown each other new paths,” Elena continued. “Safer and happier ones. And that’s what counts.”

“Not quite sure what my new path is yet, to be honest. I’ve spent so long running away from Laredo. I’ve forgotten what it means to live there.”

“It took me a long time to accept my place was here now rather than Medellín. Whenever there was a bombing, or a shooting, or a kidnapping, I had to stop myself from getting on a plane. But Horacio worried I’d be a target because of him. He didn’t want me there. And what could I have done anyway?” Elena let out a self-deprecating huff at the mere thought.

“You wanted to protect your son.”

“Yes. But it wasn’t just that. Medellín was my home and my work. And many of Eduardo’s friends and colleagues were killed. Their wives were sisters to me after his death. But I couldn’t return the favour from down here. Not in the same way, at least. I sent cards, flowers, food parcels, even money sometimes. But it never felt enough.”

“It never does.”

“No. It doesn’t. But I did what I could. And being there for Alejandra and the kids made me feel useful. I got involved with the church again. Worked for a small charity. Even though we’ve been protected from the violence here, the repercussions of it spread far and wide. So many displaced families in need. At least I was making a difference somewhere.”

“I thought I was making a difference. And maybe sometimes I was. But I don’t think it was ever really my fight.”

“Perhaps not. But maybe it helped lead you to the right one.”

“Maybe.”

Javier’s mind drifted back to the family history his Pops told him over the phone in Madrid, not just about his Mamá but his grandparents too. Not to mention all his Pops had done for the local community over the years. He thought of the stories Señora Romero had shared and the kindness she had shown him and Horacio. They had all made a difference in their own ways. And they had done it without leaving their cities, let alone their countries.

As Elena excused herself to ensure Mateo and Sofía weren’t starting another civil war in the kitchen, Javier nursed his coffee cup and surveyed the meandering scenery below. For the first time since he told Stechner to go fuck himself, he could see the outline of a path emerging in front of him. He wasn’t exactly sure where it was leading yet, but at least it was something. Something closer to home.

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Their last day in Manizales came faster than Horacio had expected, presumably a side effect of waiting for the other shoe to drop any minute. Miraculously, it never did.

“Knock knock.”

Horacio looked up from the bed where he was wrestling with the zip of his suitcase – and currently losing. “Morning.” Another tug, but it wouldn’t shift. “You just gonna watch me?”

“Because you’re usually so good at accepting help.” With a dry smile and shake of the head, Alejandra came to the rescue with less heavy-handedness than her brother, unjamming the zip in seconds.

“I’m better than I was.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“And thank you, by the way.” Horacio stood up, lifting the case from the bed and bringing himself face-to-face with his sister. “For everything.”

Alejandra nodded, maintaining eye contact with Horacio long enough to be distracted by the sunlight dancing across the gold chain around his neck. “It suits you.”

“Thanks. Better than it collecting dust in a box.”

“I don’t just mean the necklace.”

The subtle glow of Horacio's pupils mirrored Alejandra's before he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You too. And don’t leave it so long next time.”

“We won’t. I promise.”

“If it helps, I can sweeten the deal with a stay at one of the hot springs around here. They’re always giving me freebies for supplying their coffee. One of them has private thermal pools and everything.”

“You don’t have to bribe me to visit.” However, the thought of it being him, Javier, and a jacuzzi was enough for him to re-think his position on taking bribes. “Plus, I wanna see what you do with the place.”

“So you can take inspiration?”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “You wish. If you think you can handle the Texan climate, you know where we’ll be.”

“Don’t worry, I can and I will.”

“We about ready?” Javier appeared in the doorway with the rest of their luggage, pausing at the threshold. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Again.

“It’s okay; your boyfriend was just inviting us all to the ranch.”

It had only been an innocuous comment, but Alejandra managed to stop both men in their tracks with one word, a bashful look passing between them at the novelty of it.

“Oh, er, that’s great. The more the merrier.” Javier recovered just in time, although the flush in his cheeks showed no sign of abating. “My Pops always makes enough food for the population of Texas, so you’d be more than welcome.”

“Likewise here, Javier. As long as you bring more aguardiente next time.” She winked and drew him in for a hug.

“I think that can be arranged.” Javier broke away first so he could look at Alejandra properly. “And thank you…for everything this week.”

Alejandra gave a bob of the head once more, her smile widening as she glanced from Javier to Horacio, the depth of their gratitude beyond words but written all over their faces. “It’s what big sisters are for.”

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After eating enough breakfast to last them for most of their journey to Medellín – the rest supplemented by Elena’s homemade empanadas and cocadas – they were stood back on the front porch again.

There was a chorus of goodbyes this time, ones that didn’t have the foreboding air of finality about them as they had done in the past.

Horacio allowed his Mamá to clutch him with all her strength, the scent of her perfume transporting him straight back to childhood.

“You take care of each other, you hear? And keep me updated on your visa. You know where I am if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, Mamá. I will.”

“Y no olvide su español.” (And don’t forget your Spanish)

“No lo haré, Mamá.” (I won’t, Mamá) Horacio barely managed to suppress a tone of amused exasperation, given that he had been surrounded by almost as many Spanish voices in Laredo as in Colombia.

“Javier, you heard all of that. So, don’t let him forget.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Javier received the same treatment as Horacio with a bracing hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mijo. And don’t fret about finding that path. Just remember to follow your heart.”

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

The light was fading fast, leaving behind a watercolour blend of ambers, yellows and reds that blazed against a backdrop of purple haze and the ethereal silhouette of ancient mountains. The glimmer of city life below felt distant, as though they had left this world altogether and now lived above the clouds.

Which was fine by them as they caught their breath; Horacio draped over Javier’s lap in the passenger’s seat, the culmination of their release glistening across their stomachs.

“Just like old times,” Horacio panted as trails of kisses became interspersed with heady laughter.

“Well, not exactly.” Javier’s thumb and forefinger delicately held the silver and gold pendants at their chests before untangling the chains that had become knotted during their tryst.

“No.” Horacio brought his forehead to meet Javier’s, an instant tonic to the painful twinge gripping their hearts as memories of their last visit to this spot resurfaced. “I told you we’d make up for lost time this past week, though.”

“Yeah, I figured you meant in the hotel. Or even back in Madrid. Not the minute you parked up in Medellín.”

“Like you were complaining.”

“Fuck, no, I wasn’t. Less likely to be overheard up here than in the hotel anyway.”

Once Horacio had regained enough feeling in his limbs to dismount and sit back in the driver’s seat, Javier reached for the glove box. He took out their emergency stash of cigarettes and lit up.

Horacio attempted to clean himself up as best he could and did the same for Javier. “So, this is why you brought those with us.” He nodded towards the cigarettes.

“Obviously.” Javier took a long drag and exhaled with a deep sigh, his body latching on quickly to the nicotine, his mind still blitzed.

They passed their shared smoke back and forth in comfortable silence, basking in their afterglows and the aftermath of the last few days.

“You still like it up here then?” Horacio asked after stubbing out the butt in the ashtray between them.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking so beautiful.”

“Me neither. Funny how the same view can look completely different in a new light.”

Javier hummed in agreement, their gaze now fixed on each other rather than the windshield, the irony not lost that they were back in the same spot where it could easily all have ended.

"I can think of a way to make it even better, though.”

“Go on.”

In a flurry of movement, Javier zipped up his jeans, pulled on his shirt and got out of the car. He rustled around in the trunk until he retrieved a couple of spare towels they had packed for emergencies, along with their jackets. It wasn’t quite the thick blanket from the ranch, but at least it was a mild night.

They sprawled out on the grass behind the car, lying atop the towels and wrapped in their jackets. Javier propped his head on a folded sweater with Horacio resting against his chest at an angle that allowed them both to take in the cityscape below.

“How about we just stay here forever?” Javier rasped between slow, sensual kisses.

Horacio moaned against Javier’s lips as he went back for more. “Don’t tempt me. At least we didn’t book an early flight tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Another string of kisses, each more addictive than the last.

“Although,” Horacio began once they had calmed down, his fingers tracing patterns across Javier’s torso, "we’ve got a lot to sort out once we’re back in Madrid.”

“I know. But at least we ripped off the band-aid.” One of Javier’s hands found Horacio’s and slotted their fingers together.

“I spent so much energy worrying about this trip; I was almost expecting something bad to happen.”

Javier raised their linked hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Horacio’s knuckles. “But it didn’t.”

“No. In fact…I think I know what I want to do with the money.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you and your father agree to it, that is. And I can find a good lawyer.”

Javier lifted his head slightly and turned in Horacio's direction, urging him to continue.

“I was thinking….what if we bought the corn farm? The three of us, I mean.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” Horacio couldn’t help but laugh now he’d said it out loud. “Like I said, I’d need to check everything with a lawyer about my visa first. But there is an option for investors. And you still have some of your money from the ranch, right?”

“Yeah, I do. And obviously, you can count me in. But…shit, Horacio. Are you sure? I mean, it’s your inheritance.”

“It's nothing Alejandra isn't doing with her share. And well, if your father bought it outright, an empty cottage would go to waste on our doorstep. Last I looked, it needed a bit of maintenance, but it wasn’t in bad shape.”

Now, it was Javier’s turn to laugh. “Got it all figured out, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s funny, ‘cos, er...I’ve been thinking, too. About something your Mamá said.”

“About what?”

“About looking closer to home for a new path. And I think I might have found it.”

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

They only meant to stay until they got too cold, but their shared body heat let them doze until sunrise. The watercolour skyline re-emerged from behind the mountain tops, gradually bathing Medellín in a heavenly half-light, stirring them awake as it reached their hideaway.

The plan was to freshen up and have breakfast at the hotel before dropping off the hire car and heading to the airport after lunch. But there was something Horacio needed to do whilst the city wasn’t fully awake, whilst the low sun felt like a gift from God Himself.

As they pulled up a stone’s throw away from Horacio’s old family church – a few blocks down from his childhood home and former apartment that Trujillo had cleared after his hasty exit from Carlos Holguín – Javier hesitated, unsure if this was something Horacio needed to do alone.

“Come with me,” Horacio said after stepping out of the car as though he had read Javier’s mind. “Please.”

That was all the confirmation Javier needed to follow.

They walked silently along a well-kept pathway that forked off in multiple directions. It was maze-like and disorientating, but Horacio took purposeful strides despite how long it had been since his last visit.

He halted at a large marble slate engraved with a crucifix and the CNP emblem. There were some dried old flowers in a vase at the base of it, where Horacio knelt down and swapped them for the fresh bunch of marigolds he’d carried from the car.

“A gift from Mamá,” he whispered. “She’ll be back again soon.”

Horacio remained on the grass and brought his hands up to the back of his neck, where he unhooked the gold chain. He studied it between his fingers, then clasped it in his palm and bowed his head.

The cemetery was empty at this time in the morning, the loud rustling in the trees drowning out the murmur of traffic beginning to burst into life.

Javier watched wordlessly a few feet behind Horacio, almost beginning to feel like he was intruding.

“Pray with me.”

“Are you sure? What if someone –”

“I’m sure. No one’s here but us.”

Javier checked around them once, then twice, just in case. Even if someone did happen to come by, two men praying over a grave wasn’t exactly the most compromising position they could be found in. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once satisfied, Javier joined Horacio on the grass. They couldn’t get away with how they had done this in private, but Horacio dropped his right hand to the floor beside him, palm outstretched.

Javier took the hint and discreetly placed his left hand over the top, encasing the gold necklace between them.

With heads lowered and eyes closed, they prayed. An unspoken acknowledgement of all they had lost and how it had led them here. They honoured memories made, those that would never be, and those they could still make together despite everything.

Horacio’s eyes fluttered open as the sunlight fell on the headstone above him, forcing him to blink away a glassy sheen. His hand stayed connected with Javier’s on the earth, his present and future by his side, giving him strength to finally make peace with his past.

He rose to his feet and made the sign of the cross on his chest before running his fingers along the embossed letters of his father’s name. “Te quiero mucho, Papá.”

Javier gave as much time as was needed until risking a gentle squeeze of Horacio’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Horacio looked from the gravestone to Javier, the charcoal of his irises burning with the fire of conviction. “I’m ready.”

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

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safic4-m · 1 year

Text

❤️Honey

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Fem Lector

Author’s Note: Request made bycherylz170810, I’m so sorry for the delay it’s taking me the fuck away.

I hate when you fall in love with someone you just don’t, but your heart says yes and then the whole thing, it sucks.

Atte: 18 years old single

Number of words: 1360

~Master list~

One-shot

Wattpad

Ally Mayfair-Richards had become one of the most important women, but fame came with people who wanted to hurt her, that’s where you came in, she needed someone to protect her and you were the right person for the job.

You had worked for her for the last 3 years of your life and let’s say you had become more than just her bodyguard during this time.

-Please sit down and let’s talk,- you ask after she has taken you around the place.

-I saw how you looked at that woman and how she looked at your ass,- he says angrily.

-Ally… sit down and calm down,- trying to make her calm down.

-Calm down?! you’re mine and you know it!

-Ally…

-And you play with my jealousy on purpose?!

-I SAID SIT DOWN- you order.

-Good girl- making her moan at the praise.

You approach her slowly, taking her jaw to kiss her, a knock on the door interrupts you making you move away, the door opens showing a rather corpulent man who shoots in your direction, you quickly place the chestnut behind you, being hit by a bullet in the heart.

-Imbecile, this was a new shirt,- seeing the blood stain your white shirt.

The man is surprised by your reaction to a bullet in the heart and opens fire, but all the bullets freeze in the air, creating an invisible barrier of protection.

-You shouldn’t have done that,- you say with a hoarse voice.

With a wave of your hand you make the man go flying and crashing against the wall.

-Pathetic,- you spit seeing him lying on the floor.

You take the bullet out of the wound, putting it in your pocket.

-Are you all right?- asks Ally with concern.

Before you can answer her question, several people appear on the scene.

-We heard a gunshot,- says a woman.

-Is everything all right?- asks a man.

-Of course, T/n was here to protect me,- answers the brunette calmly.

They spent the next two hours, solving the problem with the man, the authorities arrived, they did the paperwork and all that.

Ally was disappointed for tonight, it was supposed to be a simple event and they go home early to take advantage of a night without Oz at home; but then the incident happened and by the time they got home she was exhausted.

-I’ll make it up to you later, honey,- you whisper in her ear.

Making her shiver, as you help her get ready for bed, you leave a kiss on her shoulder and guide her to bed. Maybe today hadn’t turned out as planned, but being in your arms could make her forget anything.

The next day you had let Ally sleep late, while you took care of dropping Oz off at school, on your way back you went to buy some flowers and at home you made her breakfast, taking her to bed.

-Wake up, honey,- she says in his ear, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

You see how a smile appears on her lips and she pretends to be asleep.

-You’re not going to wake up,- she says teasingly before attacking him with kisses on his face.

In the end Ally ends up “waking up” and you give her her breakfast.

These were one of the few moments when you could have a quiet moment with her, since work constantly kept her busy and this time would be no exception.

- - - - -

You had a free moment and had decided to visit Ally, but it ended up becoming a “de-stressing” session.

-Shit,- she says with a sigh.

-Language,- you scold her from your place between her legs.

-I’m sorry, Mommy,- covering her mouth with her hand.

You continue to eat her, drawing beautiful moans, when you realize she is about to cum, you stop making her moan in frustration. The mere image of Ally, half naked in her office, all ready for you, made you start to get hard in your pants.

-Mommy,- she says catching her breath.

-Do you want Mommy’s fingers in you?- you ask, absorbing every detail of her body.

She nods in response and you begin to trace her hole slowly, dipping one of your fingers in slightly before pulling it out.

-What do you say when you want something?

-Please, Mommy! Please fuck me with your fingers…..

The moan she let out as you filled her with two fingers made you smile widely, her mouth opened as you began to move your fingers in and out of her, letting out little moans and gasps. You curled your fingers and pushed in a third when you thought she was ready.

-Oh my…- in complete ecstasy.

-That feels good, doesn’t it,- you hum, circling her clitoris with your thumb.

-Yes mommy- she answers desperately

-You know… I think I prefer to fill your pussy- you said while raising your eyebrows suggestively.

Ally could feel a new wave of hot wetness as she imagined the sensation of being filled with you, making her clench her thighs tightly together.

-Stand up,- you command making her bend over her desk.

You pull down your pants along with your boxers, freeing your cock, you slap her ass and bite your lower lip, enjoying the way she moans with your actions. You stroke your cock before pressing it against Ally’s hole, thrusting and watching her pussy stretch around you.

-Damn it… -you exhale as you enter her fully.

Your hands are on her hips as you slowly pulled yours back, pushing forward quickly.

You move your hips, fucking your cock deep inside her as you watch her face so full of pleasure as she moans repeatedly.

-Mommy…- she says between gasps trying to be quiet.

-Honey,- she suddenly heard you say. -Why are you so quiet? I know you can be stronger than that

-I-I don’t want anyone to come in….

-Oh, you don’t want to get caught, is that it? Are you worried that someone will come in and see me fucking you from behind?

He felt his face burning with shame, because he knew you were telling the truth. Avoiding eye contact with you, hoping you wouldn’t see how red she was. Knowing what you were trying to do, you grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back, not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to get her attention.

-I asked you a question,- making her swallow as she felt your breath on her neck.

-No mommy, I don’t want to get caught,- feeling your fingers on her clitoris.

You exerted some pressure as you resumed your movements. You could hear the sound of skin colliding as you fucked Ally, her moans helped you get closer to your orgasm; focusing on the way she felt around you, how warm she was and how she fluttered around your cock from time to time.

-Fuck,- you moaned, closing your eyes as you picked up the pace.

-Do you want me to fill you up? You’ll be fucking dripping, I promise.

-I’m so close…mommy- gripping the desk tightly.

-Oh, do you want to cum?-you tease her.

She nodded her head eagerly, making you laugh.

-Pray first

-Please, please, please let me cum- she begged.

-You can do better

-Please mommy, I’ve been a good girl please let me cum, please,- she stammered, desperately.

You pretended to think about it before replying.

-You can cum, baby

She let out a series of gasps and moans as she cummed, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the desk.

Once you could feel her clench tightly around your cock, you finally let go, spilling your cum into her as you moaned. When she started to whimper a little, you slowed down, gently rubbing your hands over her hips and ass. You grabbed your cock and pulled it out of her, watching your cum spill out of her, dripping down to the floor.

-Good girl, Ally, what a good girl, I’m so proud of you,- you whispered softly in her ear.

You helped her to her feet, her legs trembling from the aftermath of her orgasm. Pulling out her chair, you sat her down and kissed her forehead.

A knock on the door causes panic to be written all over her face at the thought of you seeing her in this state.

-Ms. Mayfair, your two o'clock appointment is here,“ says your assistant from the other side of the door.

-I’ll be there in a moment,- she replies, calming down a bit.

-Go on, I’ll be waiting for you.

#american horror story #ahs #ahs cult #cult #ally mayfair richards #ally #ally mayfair x reader #ally x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader

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mizumiii · 2 years

Text

Life drawing - Blue Period's Drabbles

First one - Previous one - Table of contents

Yumesaki x Fem!Reader

You were intensely focusing on your drawing. There was nothing out of the ordinary in your subject, at least it was what you tried to persuade yourself with commendable desperation. A bit of sweat dropped on your paper and a strangled exclamation escaped you.

By doing that, you had broken the heavy silence, all the other students glared at you before… sighing desperately with the same intensity as you. That model was way too complicated! But you were the only one who could not complain since it was you who had brought in today's muse.

So in fact it was your fault if everybody was having a damn hard time, was what you could read in your classmates' exhausted eyes. It was true. But in your defence,had you not done it, that lesson would not have even taken place at all. The teacher had strangely not found any volunteer, and half an hour before the start you suddenly had an idea that you were now deeply regretting.

Of course, Yumesaki would have agreed to help you. How could you have thought for even a second that it was a good idea to ask him to model in your life drawing class? Your throat tightens at the sight of the man in the middle of the room, covered with only enough fabric for the sake of decency. And with all his work when the hell was he finding time to work out to that extent ??

You squeezed your pencil in your hands, almost breaking it. No. You were stronger than that. You would not forfeit for so little! You focused again, noticing how stiff Yumesaki was. He was clearly doing his best to stay frozen, but his eyes were frequently looking in your direction. You felt sorry for him and mouthed him a silent "almost done" with what you wanted to be an encouraging smile.

And as too often now, the assistant thoughts were not that far from yours. Why had he agreed to such a thing? Because it was the first time you had directly asked him for help and he had felt as if he was the luckiest man on earth? Maybe not to that extent but the truth was somewhere along that. He sincerely had underestimated how taxing posing could be. He often worked out to be able to carry any kind of material around the school, and what he was doing right now was even more demanding than an hour of a leg-only session. That was without mentioning having to withstand the intense eyes of a full class of art students. It was like being dissected alive, to be ripped off his humanity, he was no longer a breathing, free human but an object at the same level as any other art subject. It was so off-putting that he found only comfort in focusing on you. Like this, he could forget about the other students, about being half naked in front of young people. You appeared absorbed in your work, your eyes and hands were synchronized while working with skill and attention. Even like that, you manage to find some moments to give him a smile or a little gesture of encouragement from time to time that made him feel refreshed whenever he received one.

Like this, the lesson finally ended and Yumesaki was finally allowed to get back the decency of his clothes. He was dressing up in an empty room when he heard some knocks at the door. He found you behind it, and after an awkward silence, you invited yourself in.

“Thank you”, you half shouted because of the emotion. “But I don’t think I want you to model for us anymore!”

To be honest, he had intended to say the same things, however, hearing it first from you made him wonder if he had done something wrong, leading to hurting his benevolence. Thankfully, you answered before he could even ask.

“I don’t like seeing you in such discomfort”, you explained before adding after a moment of hesitation, “and I would prefer you to be my muse only…”

The declaration had cost you more than you thought, it was not your first time offering your sentiments to someone else, however, the doubt about the feelings of the one on the receiving end was often difficult to deal with.

“Are you asking me to model for you for your life drawing classes but… alone?” Yumesaki tried to make sense of your artistic gibberish.

“No! I’m asking you to be my muse.”A long, really long silence followed your declaration.

#blue period drabble #blue period fanfiction #blueperiod fanfiction #blue period #blue period x reader #yumesakixreader #yumesaki x reader #yumesaki

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bmpmp3 · 3 years

Photo

oooouuughhh.....its hands

#art #digital art #used that one website sketchdaily i think its called?#girl.... i miss being able to do live figure drawing #there were free drop in life drawing sessions at my school #for obvious reasons that has been put on hold #but MAN #i miss it #pictures work alright but its so fun drawing from life #i need to practive more of my fundamentals.....i should do some gesture drawing......i havent done any perspective stuff since 1999 (2018)#but i just drew hands instead...............because its more fun hfjdkksjfdkkfdbgjfdkfvd #actually gesture drawing and figure drawing aint half bad #linear perspective is my hell. it is my personal hell. it is my silent hill trauma monster.

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keerishima · 3 years

Note

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

��why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years

Text

Baby Steps

summary: you’re harry’s sons therapist, and he isn't the only one you end up helping.

word count: hi! it has been a long while since I’ve posted on here so I hope you enjoy this 8.6k piece of pure fluff and smut!

masterlist | asks

As a child, Harry had never been given many opportunities to freely express himself. He grew up in a rural area where the sheep overruled the people and the only extra-circular activity available was playing football at the park with his friends that weren’t truly his friends. He was only a mere teenager when he decided that whenever he had kids, he would give them as many opportunities as possible.

He tried in school, don’t discourage him about that, but it didn’t work out as planned. That’s how he ended up working within the company he did. He started from the bottom, working 9 to 5 within a cubicle everyday until he had worked up to become chief editor. He had his own office, with his name written on a plaque upon the door and his photos sat upon the desk. It made day to day that little bit more enjoyable.

“Finishing early today, Mr. Styles?” Genevieve asked, watching as he closes his door behind him.

“Yes, I am.” He smiles politely, “It’s been in the calendar for weeks.”

“I’ve noticed.” He knew she hadn’t. Genevieve was okay at her job, he supposed. She was an apprentice the company had hired straight out of university and of course he didn’t mind that she was still finding her feet, “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Styles.”

“You too, Genevieve.” He nods his head at the girl and walks towards the exit.

At the ripe age of twenty-eight, Harry knew that he still had his entire life ahead of him but at the same time he was pretty content. He had his job, his small town house and more importantly his son, Theo. He hadn’t expected his girlfriend of a couple of months to get pregnant but in his mind he knew what had happened and that it was something that the two of them had to take responsibility for, but she didn’t think the same thing. Harry had loved her, and he had hoped that she had loved him and their son as much as he did but it just wasn’t meant to be. He had suspected that she was going to leave, he just hadn’t expected it to be in the middle of the night whilst their son was a month old and still nursing.

It was the following morning that Harry knew that he was going try his damned hardest to be the best Father possible for his son, try to give him the world and everything good that came along with it.

“Harry!” Mrs. Walters, the woman who lives next door exclaims as she throws the door open, “Please come in.”

“Hi Mrs. Walters.” He smiles, following the elderly woman into the living room, “Has he been good today?”

“We had a little disagreement at nap time but apart from that he’s been perfect!”

“I’m glad to hear it. He’s never been the biggest fan of naps.”

Just seeing Theo’s little face light up as he walked into the room was enough reason to keep his heart beating for centuries. Theo was the absolute double of Harry, and he could even see it himself. Even at three years old he had his father’s green eyes and curly brown hair and it was another thing that caused his love for his little man to grown everyday.

“Dada!” He toddled over to his father, only just starting to feel confident upon his feet, and wrapped his arms around Harry’s legs, his chunky cheeks pressed against his shin.

“Hi bubba.” He picks his son up and rests him upon his hip, “Did you have a nice day with Mrs. West?”

Theo nods and drops his head down upon Harry’s shoulder with a light sigh of content.

“He’s been amazing, Harry, don’t worry.” The older woman drops her head to Harry’s free shoulder, “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Mrs. West.”

Theo’s little hand rests comfortably within Harry’s as they walk through the door of community centre, his little feet tapping upon the wood in his trainers.

“Harry! Theo!” You exclaim, walking over to the two of them with a large smile across your face, “I’m so glad you could make it this week!”

“Yeah. Sorry about last week, I couldn’t get out of work on time and then once I did he wasn’t in the best of moods.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s totally fine, we understand that you can’t make every week.”

Harry nods his head.

“Anyway.” You have a nice smile and it was probably the first thing that Harry noticed about you when you met, “We’re just about to get started.”

Harry sits down, crossing his legs as he does so. Theo drops down upon his father’s lap straight afterwards, his face pressed into the material of Harry’s crisp white dress shirt. Harry’s eyes bounce to look over the other children, the ones who acted similarly too Theo when they first joined. They all either sat in their parents laps comfortably or on the floor now, not one with a flicker of anxiousness across their features.

Theo and Harry have attended three of these sessions to help with confidence, and Theo had only just started to leave his shell in the last twenty minutes of the last session they went to and now it felt as though Harry had messed everything up again. He felt as though they were back to square one.

Then he feels a hand upon his shoulder.

“Its okay.” You smile, squeezing gently, “He’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

He will be, Harry knows that.

Another week had passed and Harry was yet again sat in a circle in the children’s room of the community centre with Theo sat upon his lap. Harry felt a little more at ease this week, since his little boy sat forward with a small, very small smile on his lips as he looked at… you? You hadn’t been there to greet them like you were last week, and he certainly hadn’t had the chance to say hello yet. It had been a warm-ish day today and Harry concluded that was probably why you were wearing a cute yellow sundress with small white flowers on it, something he had never seen you in before. You still wore your smile, Harry had noticed.

“Today.” You always overplayed your facial features to interest the children, “We are all going to write a story together.”

Theo’s little eyes widened in excitement.

“You like that idea, bub?” Harry whispered. Theo nodded.

“So I’ll start.” You touch your chest, “Then we’ll pass to Edith’s mummy and then Edith and we’ll continue that way around the circle!”

Harry and Theo would be third, which wasn’t too bad. He just hoped that Theo would get involved, he loved stories enough to have a mind spiralling with ideas.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there lived a princess…” You start, smiling to the person next within the circle.

“…in a big castle with a swimming pool!”

“She has dog!”

“…called muffin who she loves to play with in the…”

“Park!”

“Then.” Harry started, leaning so that he was speaking to Theo as well as the rest of the group, “One day, something magical appeared in front of her…”

“Dinosaur!”

Harry beams and whispers, “Well done Theo!”

The story finishes with the princess riding the dinosaur along a rainbow, courtesy of the little girl called Tara who finishes the circle. Normally the children disperse the last twenty minutes or so to play amongst themselves whilst the adults talk about what type of week they’ve had. They were doing just that, but today, Harry’s heart stopped at the sight of his little boy sat with little Tara drawing at the tiny desk when usually he just does that on his own.

Harry had honestly never thought that he would be going to group behavioural therapy for his three year old son, but, he promised he would do anything for his little boy.

“Hi everyone.” They were now sat around a table, one fit for adults, whilst a few of your colleagues watched the children, “I’m excited to hear how all your weeks have been!”

Tara’s mum starts, explaining that this week the nursery had phoned up to explain that she hadn’t spoken to anyone at lunchtime but there had been the odd time where she’d had a small conversation with a couple of classmates.

Harry listens to a few others. How Ryan had bit a kid at school the other day, how Delilah refused to say anything for a couple of days that week. Harry had never experienced Theo biting or injuring other kids but he had experienced him shutting down and not speaking to anyone.

“Harry.” You smile, “How has little Theo been this week?”

“He’s, uh, been okay I suppose.” He runs his finger across his bottom lip, “Nothing out of the ordinary. Had an odd hour or so yesterday.”

“Has he made any friends at nursery, yet?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m trying to get him in everyday but it’s proving to be difficult.”

You smile, “He’ll get there Harry. It might take him a bit longer than normal but he will get there.”

After listening to the other parents, the meeting for that week finishes. Harry waits for Theo to finish his drawing before helping him into his coat. Your words pondered through his mind — he certainly hoped that Theo would get better but it was a walk, not a sprint.

“Hi Theo.” You beam as you walk towards the two, “Can I see your drawing?”

After a few moments of contemplation, he passes the drawing to you.

“Wow! It’s beautiful! Can you draw me one whilst I talk to your Daddy?”

Theo listens to your request and starts on the drawing straight away, picking up colour after colour whilst Harry looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I just wanted to have a quick word, nothing bad, I promise.”

Harry nods.

“Theo is making excellent progress in the program and I’m sure you’ve seen the results for yourself but as you know he is going a little slower than the rest of the kids.”

“If this is because we missed one then it’s completely my fault—”

“It’s not! Don’t think that, it’s not!” You’re quick to say, “I was thinking the other day of ways to help and I remembered that my friend runs a group at the weekend for children that are struggling to cope with the loss of a parent.”

“But I thought he was too young to be affected by that?”

“I thought so too but I did some more research and even though he was very, very young when his mother left, it could still be affecting him.” You swallow and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, “He will have noticed that he doesn’t have two parents and that could be the stem of all of the problems.”

Of course this had run through Harry’s mind a few time but he always brushed it off because he was so young when it happened. The fact that woman might be the reason his son was so quiet and not himself all of the time caused his stomach to flip. He hadn’t seen her since that night but she was still affecting him day upon day and he hated it.

“When is this group?”

“Oh!” You exclaim, happy that he hadn’t just shut the idea down, “It’s on Saturday at ten whilst twelve but you can come and go as you please.”

“Will you be there?” Why had he just asked that? He probably sounded like such a weirdo.

“I will.” You smiled, “Just for you.”

Harry certainly hadn’t expected to spend his Saturday morning sat at upon a bench outside the community centre watching Theo play with other kids. He was surprised how easily Theo had left his shell around all of these kids but he supposed they all had something in common, that they were raised by only one parent.

Another thing he hadn’t expected was to be sat sharing the said bench with you, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Black coffee.” You smile, holding out the cup for him to take.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” You take a sip of your own cup of tea, “He seems to be doing well.”

“I’m really surprised. The last time I saw him gel to someone so quickly was when he met our neighbour, Mrs. West.”

You smile, “It’s good. You’ll be able to figure out which group works the best for you both.”

“Will you be here every week?”

Is he flirting? You certainly weren’t complaining, anyone with eyes could see that Harry is a very handsome man but never in a million years did you think that he would be flirting with you. Maybe he wasn’t even flirting and you were just letting your imagination run a little too wild.

“I—”

“I’m sorry.” He’s quick to say, “What I meant is that he’s comfortable around you, and I would hate for him to loose that sort of comfort.”

“I completely understand.” You nod. So he wasn’t flirting with you. There was a part of you that was sort of disappointed and wished that he had been flirting with you, “Well he seems to be enjoying himself here so how about we slowly introduce him to just coming here. I’ll come for the first couple of weeks so that he’s comfortable.”

“Thank you. I haven’t said that enough but I honestly can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing for my son.”

“It’s my job, Harry. I do this for a reason.”

“But you didn’t have to do this. Spend your Saturday morning sat on a bench with me to make sure that Theo is okay. You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I am. I’m doing it because I care about that little boy and I want him to get better. And you’re certainly not bad company.”

Harry smiles and looks away. It probably makes it more obvious that his cheeks are flushing at her words. You have always made Harry nervous, even from the first meeting when he asked whether you could help his son. Was it wrong? Probably. Did he care? No, as far as he knew this crush was harmless and it wasn’t as though it was reciprocated he supposed.

“I know I’m not as exciting at Theo but I do try.”

“I can tell.” You smile, “Was he okay at nursery yesterday?”

“The same I think. Nursery didn’t say anything when I picked him up and they usually do if something happened. Good or bad.”

“That’s good. Some will just ignore the problem. I’ve helped a few parents who have struggled with that.”

“I’m lucky.” He nodded, “We’re lucky.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. Theo’s getting better, that’s the most important thing.”

You sigh, “Not Theo. How are you?”

“I’m getting there. I’m taking each day as it comes, I suppose.”

“Do you have people that you talk to?” You ask before immediately trying to retract your question, “I understand if you don’t want to tell me. I can be nosey sometimes.”

“No. It’s fine.” He coughs to clear his voice, his eyes watching as Theo sits in the sand pit with a bucket and spade, “I talk to my mum and sister if there’s anything really wrong.”

“Nobody else?” You’re daring, and your eyebrow raises in nervousness.

“I’m single if that’s what you’re asking.” He chuckles.

Your eyes bug, “Well I—”

“Its okay, YN.” He laughs now, his dimples deepening, “Are you single?”

“I am.” You smile, “I’m glad you have someone to talk to that isn’t your three year old son. It’s important.”

“I know. I kept a lot of it to myself at the start and just tried to be the best that I could be for Theo but it hit a point where I needed help, and I knew I did.”

“It’s commendable that you did that. Too many single parents try to do it on their own and it just doesn’t work. It not only causes them to fizzle out but it causes strain on the kids.”

“Have you got children?”

“No.” Your lips curl, “I just enjoy working with them — to a degree obviously.”

A chuckle passes. It’s at this point that Harry realises that this is the first conversation you have had with him that passes the point of being somewhat professional. You’re dipping your toes in the idea of the conversation being about getting to know each other rather than being about Theo or any information about the group.

“I can’t imagine.”

“You never know what the days going to hold when you walk through the door. They say to never work with children and animals.” You laugh, “Where you do you work?”

“I work at a publishing company. I’m the chief editor. It’s not the best but it pays the bills.”

“It sounds very interesting.”

“It isn’t. The amount of articles about interior design I read on a weekly basis is sort of absurd.”

“Interior design?”

“I work for an interior design magazine. I probably should’ve explained that first.”

You giggle, “I bet your house is immaculately decorated.”

“To a degree.” He chuckles, “Living with a three year old sort of means you’re house always looks like a bomb has hit it.”

“I can imagine.”

“I wouldn’t change it for anything. Yeah it is a mess but it isn’t too bad and he’s leaning that he won’t get treats if he doesn’t clean up after himself.”

“Nice. I’m sure that works a treat.”

“It does.” He laughs, “Literally.”

“He’s a good kid, Harry. You can tell. He’ll be perfectly fine.”

You keep saying that.

Harry received a message the following Wednesday around lunch time that he hadn’t expected. He was just about to tuck into the salad he had pre-made this morning fort lunch when his phone lit up on the desk. A small message box covers up his wallpaper which was a photo of Theo in the bath, bubbles on his head in a cone shape and upon his chin like a beard.

Hi Harry, Its YN. I promise I’m not weird I just got your number of the system to send this. I’m just letting you know that tonight’s group is cancelled, I’m bunged up with a cold and would hate to pass it onto any of the kiddies :) Hope you are well.

Hi YN. I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better soon. See you next week. H.

Harry couldn’t hide that he was a little disappointed. He was starting to enjoy going to the centre every week. He could say that it was because his son was slowly coming out of his shell, and that was part of it, but ever since your conversation he had that one weekend he enjoyed the few words you spoke to each other.

If he was more confident in the way you felt about him, he probably would’ve messaged to ask if you needed anything bringing but he thought that it would’ve been a little bit odd. Hopefully in the future it wouldn’t be as odd.

“You can’t eat your chips yet, buddy, they’re too hot.” Harry explains, picking a couple of the chips from Theo’s plate and blowing on them. The young boy sat and watched his father, waiting for his chips before chewing them happily.

“Oh! Harry!”

You’re stood with a drink in your hand, jeans and a floral blouse hanging loosely upon your figure. You looked cute and cuddly, something that Harry had missed seeing over the past week or so.

“Hi YN.” He smiles, wiping his mouth with his napkin momentarily, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you very much.” You smile.

“Would you like to sit?” He asks, motioning to the spare seat, “You don’t have to if you’re busy or anything.”

“No. I would love to. Are you okay with that Theo?”

For the first time since you’ve arrived the little boy looks up at his eyes immediately light up at the sight of you stood there.

“Miss YN!”

“I’m guessing he’s okay with it.” Harry smiles, watching as you pull out the seat and seat and sit down. “You weren’t in a rush, were you?”

“No.” You smile, sipping on the hot cocoa you had just bought, “I had just finished for the day actually. Did a bit of shopping and then decided to walk over here.”

“Sounds lovely. Anything exciting?”

“If fruit and veg is exciting, then exciting.”

“Hey, take it from me, trying to make fruit and veg exciting for your kids is the most exciting thing about fruit and veg.”

“Not a fan?” You ask, looking at the young boy who had started to munch on his chicken nuggets.

“Not really. Can you not tell?”

You laugh, looking at Theo’s plate which just had chips and chicken nuggets on with a blob of ketchup on the side.

“He seems to be enjoying those?”

“Oh god yeah.” Harry laughs, “He can eat for England. Takes after me in that sense.”

“That’s good. Some parents sometimes come in saying that their children don’t eat and it’s worrying them.”

“He went through a phase when he turned around two and a half of not eating but he rectified that very quickly himself.”

“That’s good? Have you had work today?”

It was only then that you had noticed his attire. Jean flares and a shirt that said something about eating honey. On anyone else you it would’ve set warning alarms within your head but he made it look suave and quite attractive.

“No. I have weekends off so I can spend them with Theo. I sometimes do a bit of work from home but not a lot, do you?”

“Sometimes. If there’s an emergency I’ll sometimes have to go in.”

“Is it hard? Do you find working with vulnerable children hard?”

“Challenging, I’d say. Maybe not hard. Some of the things that have happened to the children to cause them to behave the way they do are hard to listen to. Trying to get them to talk or just explain how they feel is even harder.”

“You do God’s work, YN.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I hate the though of children suffering, and I’d like to think I do my best to help with that.”

“You do. From experience you do.”

“You’re forever feeding my ego. I kind of like it, keep it coming.”

“Eh.” He curves his lips and moves his head from side to side, “You’re not that bad to look at either.”

“Cheeky! But you’re not too bad yourself, Styles.”

“Daddy!” Theo interrupts, “Toilet, please.”

“Okay bud.” Harry stands up and so do you, “You don’t have to go, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No it’s okay, I probably should leave.” You smile, “I told Norman that I’d only been ten minutes and that was half an hour ago.”

“Norman?”

“My dog! God, I probably should’ve specified that. Norman’s my dog.”

“Ah.” Harry laughs, “That makes more sense. I’ll see you later YN.”

“Bye Harry.”

When you got home that night, you see the majority of the time sat staring at your phone whilst Norman stares at you as though you’ve gone crazy.

“I should just text him.” You sound crazy talking to your job but it is oddly comforting, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Hi Harry! It was lovely seeing you and Theo today. I hope you had a lovely rest of your day :)

You immediately regretted sending the message. Would he think you were weird? Had you just ruined any chance you had of it going any further? Your stomach twisted and your phone lit up.

We did thank you, YN. I hope Norman wasn’t too mad that we kept you out longer than expected. H.

You giggled. He remembered.

He got over it pretty quickly. Gave him a treat and everything was back to normal.

That’s good. It’s a good thing dogs are forgiving creatures.

Rather I bribed him to forgive me. He can be stubborn when he wants to be.

I think you might be describing my son. He certainly didn’t get his stubborn side from me.

Good. I would hate to have to bribe you to speak to me.

Well that depends what you would have bribed me with. But hopefully you’ll never be in the bad books.

You seem to have very high expectations of me, Styles. I might just surprise you.

I’m going to hold you to that. The next time I see you I expect to be surprised.

Are you free any time soon?

Not until next weekend really. I finish work at five-ish everyday.

Is there any chance that you’d maybe want to do something after work? I can hopefully surprise you?

I’d like that very much. Tuesday okay?

Perfect! See you then, Harry.

Sweet dreams, YN.

Tuesday couldn’t come quick enough in your eyes. You were pleasantly surprised that you’d even managed to bag yourself a date with the man, usually you’d shy away from the male species as much as possible. That didn’t mean that you didn’t spend the entire time messaging Harry the other day with warm cheeks and a fuzzy tummy. The fact that he could’ve thrown everything back into your face being the thing that scared you the most.

You had messaged Harry last night that you were going to a restaurant, not a fancy one but one that required a smart/casual dress code. You spent probably a little too long getting ready, curling your hair and applying the make up you wore too perfection, dressing in some high-waisted trousers with a long-sleeved tucked in to reserve the warmth that the British summertime had selfishly taken away.

You had hundred’s of thoughts bouncing around in your brain. It wasn’t everyday that you bagged a date with the man of your dreams and even if it didn’t work out — at least you could say that it had happened. If it didn’t work out it was probably a good thing that Theo had started to make the move from your group to your friend’s to avoid uncomfortable confrontation.

The reservation at the restaurant was for eight, so you had arranged to meet there for around politely declined. The drive was quick but the wait for Harry seemed to take hours.

When he did arrive, your breath caught within your throat. He was wearing simple dress pants with a silk floral shirt tucked in, the first couple of buttons undone. It revealed tattoos that you were shocked to see that he had upon his chest and stomach. It intrigued you to know whether he had more tattoos. A part of really wanted to see them.

“Hi.” He smiles and wraps his arms around you in a welcoming hug. He smelt really good.

“Hi.”

“You look lovely.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Styles.”

“Shall we go in?” You nodded.

The table reserved for the two of you was small but lovely, located in the corner of the restaurant by the floor to ceiling windows. You had been to this Italian plenty of times in the past and it had become one of your favourites. As you sat down, you had ordered a bottle of wine to share between the two of you.

“Is that your first surprise?” He asked as the two you tapped your glasses together in cheers, “Drinking on a work night?”

“It’s a special occasion.” You shrug, “You’ll have to figure out yourself whether it’s part of the surprise or not.”

He raised his eyebrow at you before he broke into a smile.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The waiter comes a few ticks after that, asking what we would like. I order a bowl of pasta whilst Harry orders a pizza of some sort.

“How was Theo when you left him today?” You started to tuck into the bread and dips that the waiter had brought as an appetiser.

“Absolutely fine. I’ve never seen someone so exciting to spend time with their grandmother.”

“Weekend’s with my Grandma were the shit!” You exclaim with a smile, “We used to bake and she’d cook me all of my favourite dinners.”

“You were spoilt rotten, to say the least?”

“Of course I was! That’s how little Theo is feeling.”

“Are you close to your family?”

“Yeah I am. More so my Mum and Grandma. I don’t really have the best relationship with my Dad.”

He nods, “My mum and Dad divorced when I was young so I was brought up my Mum. She remarried when I was nineteen.”

You hummed, “Are you close with your stepfather?”

“I was.” Harry coughed to clear his throat, “He died in 2017.”

You immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

He stops the sip of his drink quick, “You haven’t, I promised. How are we supposed to get to know each other if you don’t ask questions?”

“We sort dived right into the deep shit straight away.” You laughed, “Quick fire questions: favourite band?”

“I honestly couldn’t pick one.”

“Well.” You sighed, “I tried but that answer was boring. Pick one!”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, his smile growing, “I love Fleetwood Mac, The Zombies, The Kinks—”

“Basically anything from the past?”

“Pretty much.” He laughed, “I grew up listening to Shania Twain and Joni Mitchell with my mum.”

“I would’ve loved to have that childhood.” You laughed, “My mum was all for Bon Jovi, Meatloaf and Prince. Always said ‘I could’ve been a rock chick’.”

He laughs and sips his drink.

The conversation for the rest of the evening flowed better than you could have expected. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever been on such a lovely date before in your life, if you could even call it that.

You learnt about his childhood living in Holmes Chapel whilst he learnt about yours. You hadn’t expected to enjoy his company so much and even as the night came to a close you found yourself not wanting to leave.

“I must admit.” He starts as her walks you towards your car, “I was quite disappointed when you said I couldn’t pick you up.”

“Why was that?”

“Because I’m not able to drive you home, walk you to your door and hopefully give you a little something to remember me for the night.”

“Really? Who said that I would have let you?”

“You wouldn’t have?”

“I don’t know.” You tease, “Why don’t you come over and try?”

The smile on his face as he leaned in is something that will haunt your dreams at night for the better. Your eyes flutter closed and sigh in content as his lips touch yours. It was a little embarrassing, but there had been a few moments late at night where you have wondered what this would feel like. Those were enjoyable dreams but the real this was so much better.

No tongue was involved but you already knew that this was something you could become addicted to. The feeling of his large palm against your cheek as his kissed any worry you had away from the night. Your whole body tingled and if you weren’t in a public car park, you wouldn’t know whether you’d be able to contain yourself.

You both pull away breathlessly.

“I think you would’ve let me.”

“I certainly fucking would.”

If Harry had any other option — he would’ve taken it in a heartbeat.

When Harry had woke up this morning, he had expected it to be like his normal Monday morning. Waking up early and making breakfast whilst Theo sleep in. Then he’d wake Theo up to have breakfast and then Harry would dress him for the day.

That hadn’t happened this morning.

When Harry had walked into Theo’s room that morning he found his son, already awake with tears streaming down his face. He tried to comfort his son, and tried to get him to talk but he just didn’t stop crying.

That’s how he ended up stood in the corner of his son’s room with his phone pressed tightly to his ear.

“Harry? Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, well uh, not really.” He scratches the back of his neck, “There’s something wrong with Theo.”

“Is he okay?”

“No. I came into his room this morning and he’s non-stop crying and he won’t talk to me.”

“I’m on my way.”

You drove as fast as you could. The sound of Harry’s voice, mixed with his words and the faint sniffles in the background was enough to send your heart spiralling. You used the message that Harry had sent with address to navigate your way towards his house.

Doors unlocked.

You raced your way up the stairs, taking two at a time and saw Harry waiting at the top of the stairs.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” You squeezed his arm in reassurance, “Is he in there?”

“Yeah.”

Then you saw him. The small boy with the brown curly hair and the green eyes that matched his Father’s peering up at you, small sobs leaving his lips.

“Hi bud.” You smile, “Is it okay if I sit down?”

The small boy nods and you do so, a small sigh escaping your smiling lips.

“Your Daddy phoned and said you were feeling a little upset this morning and asked if I could come and talk to you. Is that okay?”

He nods again, sniffling slightly.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

He shakes his head.

“Can you tell me why you’re crying?”

“Dream.” His chest heaves up and down.

“Did you have a bad dream?” A nod. Okay, you could work with that.

You hadn’t realised that Harry was stood at the door, leant against the frame with his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb running across his lip. He honestly wouldn’t know what he was going to do if you hadn’t been so lovely and come to check on Theo at such short notice.

“Was your dream about Daddy?” Another nod.

It honestly broke Harry’s heart. He had never ever though that something like this was the reason his son had gotten himself into such a state.

“Have you been having a lot of these dreams?” Nodding. So much nodding, “Are they scaring you?”

“Daddy hurt.” His voice was so quiet and unsteady.

“Daddy gets hurt?” Your palms start sweating, “Is that why you’re so upset? And you go quiet sometimes? You think Daddy’s going to get hurt?”

“I’m right here Theo.” Harry walks over and drops down to be face to face with his son, “I’m not hurt, and I’m not going to hurt.”

“You don’t move.” He cries become louder and louder the more they spoke.

Harry leans over and pulls his son off the bed, dropping him onto his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around him. You watch as Harry smooths his hand across his son’s back, hoping that it will calm him down and stop the crying. Harry’s catch yours and your heart physically breaks for him. You’d never seen anything like this in your four year career.

“Listen to this, bud.” Harry wipes his tear stained face briefly, “How about we take today off nursery and work and we’ll spend the day together.”

Theo nods and you smile, gently standing up and removing yourself from the situation. For the first time you can look at Harry’s house. It was exactly how you had pictured it to be — immaculately designed with a splash of Theo in ever corner. You drop down upon the sofa with a sigh and use your hand to try to rub the fatigue away from your face. You hadn’t had a morning like this in a long time.

Twenty minutes or so later, Harry joins you on the sofa with a deep sigh.

“How is he?”

“He’s asleep right now. I laid with him and he drifted off.”

“That’s good.”

He reaches over to grab your hand that was comfortably rested upon your thigh, threading his fingers nicely between your own.

“I’m sorry for calling so early. I know you were probably busy and this didn’t help.”

“It’s okay.” You give his hand another squeeze, “I told you that I’d help in any way that I could.”

“I know.” He nods, his voice starting to break, “It’s just so fucking hard YN.”

“Hey, don’t cry.” You move so that you can wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a comforting hug, “I know it is but we can sort this out, I promise.”

“Just knowing that this was because he has been worried about me. What kind of parent does that?”

“I want you to listen to me now, Harry.” You place your hands upon his cheeks, pulling his head up from your shoulder so that he’s looking directly at you, “You have done nothing wrong. This was completely out of your control.”

He nods and you wipe the tear that had fallen down his cheek away.

“I’m going to help you now and we’re going to get Theo better.”

He leans forward and to your surprise places a deep kiss to your lips.

“Thank you.”

Harry had invited you over as a thank you a couple of days later. You had told him multiple times that he didn’t have to thank you for anything and that you’d do anything for him and Theo but he insisted. Theo was still next door with Mrs. West after being picked up from nursery and she made it complete aware that she didn’t mind watching him for a few extra hours so that he could do this for his friend.

If Harry was honest, he doesn’t have many friends. Mrs. West has spoken to him about it on many occasions and he supposed that the old woman was just excited that he might actually have a friend that wasn’t herself or his son.

You had arrived at Harry’s house to see the dining room set out with plates and cutlery and wine glasses with delicious smell coming from the kitchen. He greeted you with a soft kiss upon the lips and a small hug.

“Has Theo been okay?” You ask, leaning against the counter as you watch Harry fry the vegetables for the stir fry.

“He’s been better. He’s been talking a little more according to to the teachers.” He starts to plate up the noodles, “For the first couple of nights he stayed in bed with me, as you suggested but last night he stayed in his own.”

“Did it go okay?” The two of you walk with full plates to the dining room.

“There were a few tears but he slept through the night.”

You honestly couldn’t have been happier for the two of them. You have worked with the two of them for a couple of months and now finding out that things were actually starting to work left you feeling happier than you had ever expected to be.

“That’s really good. I’m happy for you.”

Before you knew it the time had escaped from the two of you. Somehow, you had made your way to the sofa and now sat with large glasses of red wine in your hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need to get Theo?”

It was nearing seven, and you started to worry.

“If I go now he’ll probably kill me.” He laughs, “Mrs. West brings out the sweet treats around this time.”

You giggle and lean forward to capture your lips upon his. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the other resting lightly upon her thigh. In one confident movement, you shift your body so that your knees are either side of his hips. A part of you still couldn’t believe that this was happening, not only with anyone but with Harry.

This had all happened quicker than you had expected but you weren’t complaining.

“YN.” He pulls away breathlessly, “Hey, are you sure?”

“God yes.”

“Okay then.’

He skilfully picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you towards his bedroom. You land upon the bed with a small thud that causes you both to giggle. He presses his lips to yours one last time in a breath-taking, heart-stopping kiss.

“Move up.” You shuffle your bum up the bed so that your head is rested upon the lush pillows. Harry’s fingers toy with the zipper of your jeans, his eyes looking for any sign of uncomforted on your face, “This okay?”

You nod quickly, “It is.”

He sighs shakily, his fingers slipping into the band of your jeans, pulling them down your legs. You lift your hips up to aid him in the movement. At this point you were glad that a day ago you hd decided to have a pamper session and shave your entire body.

His lips place small kisses along the inside of your thighs, your body withering under his touch. It had been a long time since someone had touched you in this way, and your senses felt as though they were on override.

“Harry.” The small moan escapes your lips as he licks a stripe along your clothed centre.

“God.” He hooks his fingers into the material and pulls them down your legs, “You’re so fucking wet.”

You hum as his lips wrap around your clit, your chest heaving up and down as he uses his tongue to flick the sensitive nub over and over again. This had all happened so quickly and you felt so overwhelmed that you had no idea if you were going to last very long at all.

“Fuck.” You moan, “Harry.”

“That’s it.” He murmurs against your centre, giving your clit a few kitten licks afterwards, “Say my name again.”

“Harry.”

He suckles on your clit so quickly that you’re left breathless, your fingers threading through his curly brown hair. You tug on it causing a groan to escape his lips against you, sending your orgasm rushing in.

“M’coming.” Your chest heaves, “Fuck, baby.”

Harry pulls away after coaxing you through your high, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He licks what he can before lifting up so that you can kiss him. He drops down, his head falling into your neck and for the first time you can feel him against your exposed thigh.

“Do you want me to help?’

“No.” He smiles, pushing your hair away from your face, “Tonight was a thanks to you. Hopefully there will plenty more opportunities for you to repay me in the future.”

“I’m excited for that.”

“Daddy?” The little voice wakes the two of you up from your slumber, “Miss. YN?”

“Hiya buddy.” Harry’s quick to pick the little boy up and drop him in the middle of the two of you, “Did you have a good sleep?”

Theo hums and cuddles into his Dad’s chest, “Morning Miss. YN.”

“Morning Theo.” You smile, “I’ve told you before, you can call me just YN.”

You and Harry had started to see each other frequently since the last date and very recently, in the past few days or so you’ve both made the jump of having sleepovers. With Theo it made it difficult for Harry to stay over at yours so you stayed over at Harry’s — not that you minded one bit.

“Okay, YN.” He smiles, leaning forward to place a kiss to Harry’s dimpled cheek.

“What do you fancy doing today bud? If you ask nicely YN might be able to stay with us today.”

“Really?” His eyes widen in excitement.

“Of course.” You smile and ruffle his hair, “But it’s your day, what do you want to do?”

“Can we go to the cinema?” You both nod, seeing as though that’s a very doable request from the little man.

“What do you want to go see?”

“Frozen 2 please, daddy.”

“Of course.” Harry kisses his cheek and your heart swells at the sight.

Theo sat the entire time in the cinema contently chewing on his popcorn as his eyes never left the screen. Harry’s hand was firmly grasped within yours and you both repeatedly picked it up to kiss the back of each other’s. It was the simple gestures that drew you to Harry in the first place, from that very first day at the centre.

“Did you enjoy it?” You both have one of Theo’s hands in yours, swinging him up as you walk along the pavement.

“Yes Daddy.” He beams.

“What do you fancy doing now? Fancy a McDonalds?”

“Can I have an ice cream, please?”

“Of course, baby.”

It was rare that you and Harry managed to get a night alone with each other, but this specific Saturday night Anne had offered to take Theo and the two of you weren’t complaining. It had been two or so months since your relationship grew from being professional into something more and you were yet to fully consummate your relationship.

You did other things, of course, in the dead of night when Theo was fast asleep. You were both just uncomfortable with the idea of having sex and reaching that last level of intimacy whilst he was in the other room.

The thought physically made you shudder.

“Are you hungry, baby?”

“I could eat.” You respond, sitting across from Harry as he scrolls through his phone whilst leaning upon the kitchen island.

“Pizza?”

You scoff, “Is that even a question?”

Once the delivery of your pizza’s arrive, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone inhale a pizza as quickly as Harry did. He even ended up eating a slice of your own.

Cleaning up was easy and before you knew anything, you were both changing and getting ready for bed. It was at this point you could go through the plan that you’d created a week or so ago when you learnt that this day would be happening.

You dressed yourself in delicate white lingerie that would have anyone swooning and dropping to their knees. You tousled your hair, applied some lip balm to your lips and walk out to the bedroom.

“Fucking hell.” He drops his phone onto the bed beside him, “Where have you been keeping that?”

“It’s one of the surprises I always ramble on about.”

“Totally worth it.” He throws his hands up and makes grabby movements towards you which you give in to.

His arms wrap around you waist and pull you down so you could press your lips to his. There was something different within the air today and you could both feel it.

“You wanna feel me?”

“Always.”

His fingers reach up to unclasp your bra, dropping the lace material to the floor as you clamber upon his lap. His lips wrap around your pebbled nipples, the feeling of his swirling tongue earning breathy moans to escape your lips.

“Sensitive?”

“Just finished my period.”

“Ah.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly.

You drop to your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you use your hand to palm him through his boxers. You place two kisses to each of the ferns, another one at the top of his happy trail before you hook your fingers into the material of his briefs, pulling them down as he lifted his hips to help.

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Harry’s dick, but that didn’t mean that you became any less nervous every time you saw it.

“Are you just going to stare?”

“I’m contemplating?”

“Contemplating what?”

“Whether or not you deserve me to suck your dick. Leave me to it, baby.”

He shuts his mouth the second to place one kitten lip to his base, your eyes watching as his stomach heaves up and down at the feeling. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you start to bob your head up and down, using your spit to ease yourself into it. Harry’s hand reaches out to grip your hair, guiding your head up and down but making sure to not go too far.

“You’re amazing. Fuck, YN baby.”

You use the free hand that wasn’t aiding you by jerking the length that you couldn’t take to squeeze his thigh, right by his tiger once before allowing your finger to rub over your sensitive nub through your panties, allowing any sort of friction to be released.

“Gotta stop baby.” He gently pushes you off of him, your mouth releasing him with a pop, “Need to last for you.”

Once you’re stood up he pulls your panties down your legs, watching as you step out of them. You both switch positions so that you’re laid on top of the plush comforter whilst Harry fumbles through his bedside table, taking a foil packet out.

Your eyes never leave him as he gives himself a few tugs before rolling the condom on, giving you a once over before bending down.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He questions once and you nod, muttering confirmation as he moves to hover above you.

You feel a little discomfort at first, probably due to how long it had been since you last had sex.

“Move, Harry.”

“M’kay.”

His lips are on yours again as he starts to move his hips, finding his rhythm as he thrusts in and out of you. You whine into his mouth whilst he groans into yours, the feeling becoming all too unbearable for the two of you.

“Feel so good, H. So big, so full.”

The chuffed face he pulled as he continued to thrust his hips to yours, his lips wrapping around your nipple briefly was enough for you to fall for him again.

“M’gonna come, baby.”

“I know, H, me too.”

He slipped his hand down between you both to use his fingers to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you over the edge. A long moan of his name leaves your lips, your back arches and your eyes start to water.

“That’s it. Fuck! Squeezin’ me so tight.”

He moans as he comes, spilling into the condom whilst his movements halt inside of you.

He head drops forward upon your shoulder, the two of you masking in the overwhelming thing your had just experienced.

“There’s no one else I ever want to do that with.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, then.”

“YN.” Theo catches your attention as you wash both of your hands after the painting session you had both just had, “Are you my new Mummy?”

Your movements halt as you look down at the little boy, his features becoming more and more like Harry’s everyday.

You look up to Harry who’s stood drying his hand a couple of metres away, a goofy smile present on his lips as he nods at you.

“If you want me to be Theo, but are you sure?”

“I love you, YN.”

“I love you too, now go dry your hands.”

Harry passes him the towel to dry his hands which he does with little no disagreement.

“Are you going to go turn the TV on whilst Daddy talks to Mummy?”

The words felt odd leaving his lips, but a good kind of odd. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and bounds towards the living room.

You wrap your arms around Harry and sigh contently into his chest.

“I can’t believe he just said that.”

“I can. There’s no one else I’d want to be his mother.”

You stand on your tip toes to kiss his lips once.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #single dad!harry #therapist!yn #harry styles writing

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ningningsplushie · 3 years

Text

Hobiday

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Word count: 2020

Genre: self-care night, domestic Hobi??, fluff galore, comfort fic

Summary: Y/N visits her boyfriend Hoseok after a stressful day. Once she steps in his presence, the waterworks start and from there, he takes care of Y/N.

Warnings: Angst on the reader’s part, naked ppl ;) but nothing seggsual, sad emotions :( but it’s okay because Hobi is here to comfort you

Y/N had just finished her shift at work after a gruelling study session at the library. Exams were coming up and work was kicking her ass. As hard as she was working, it just didn’t feel enough for her. Fears of not graduating with the degree she wanted, along with potentially getting fired from the newspaper agency, were eating her up. What Y/N really needed right now was love and a bit of coddling from her boyfriend Hoseok.

The minute she stepped out of the building, she had texted Hoseok if it was alright for her to visit him and due to them not seeing each other for two weeks, he of course agreed.

Standing right outside of his apartment’s door, Y/N holds the handle of the door in a death grip, trying her best to push her tears down as best as she could, not wanting Hoseok to see her in such a vulnerable and messy state. Opening the door ever so slowly, she creeps in, setting her bags on the floor.

“Hobi, I’m here!” She calls out, taking off her shoes at the entrance.

Hoseok walks out of his bedroom in a baggy shirt and a pair of grey sweats hanging low on his hips. He looks so good all the damn time. How does he do it? It’s taking Y/N everything in her power for her not to burst out crying, but the minute he flashes his dazzling smile and says, “Hey flower, how was your day?” she loses it.

The emotions she’s been bottling up for the past few weeks let loose, her vision becoming increasingly blurry as she starts to bawl, falling to her knees on Hoseok’s hardwood floor.

Hoseok guessed this would have happened sooner or later, judging from how distant but hardworking she’s been but upon seeing her tears track down her face, her body huddled into a small ball, his heart breaks into a million pieces. He rushes over to her, picking up her frail figure, and carries her to his couch. Hoseok caresses Y/N’s head, allowing her to nuzzle her face into his long neck as she sobs and sobs.

“It’s alright flower, let it out. You’ve been so strong for me, don’t keep it in any longer.” He consoles, giving her a chaste kiss atop her head and gently patting her bum, rocking her in his arms like a baby.

They stay like this for ten minutes as Y/N continues to cry, her body racked from her crying and face now puffy and red. She stops and no sound can be heard, leading Hoseok to assume that she’s fallen asleep.

Carefully, he tries to get up from the couch to carry Y/N to his bedroom but is met with a meek, “Hobi, I’m so, so tired.”

Pouting at her tiring claim, he replies, “I know, baby. We’re gonna go to bed right now so you can rest up.”

“No, I’m not tired like that. I’m just...mentally exhausted.”

Hoseok’s frown deepens. “You work so hard, flower. You’ve got to let yourself rest every once in a while.”

Y/N shakes her head, locks of her hair falling into her eyes. “You know I can’t do that. I’m so busy and-and I’ve got to keep track of all my work. If I stop to rest for even a day, I’ll fall behind.”

An idea pops into Hoseok’s head. “Alright. Since you so willingly came to me, I’ll just have to force some relaxation into you.”

“It’s not very relaxing if you have to…”

Hoseok interrupts his girlfriend with a sweet kiss on the mouth, careful not to stray the kiss into something not so deviant. “shhhhhh. Just trust me.” He mumbles into her mouth.

With Y/N still clinging onto Hoseok, he carries her into the bathroom, carefully setting her on top of the sink. He rummages through the cabinet behind Y/N’s dangling legs, and from below her, she hears, “Lavender or Chamomile?”

“Lavender or Chamomile what?” She asks, puzzled at her boyfriend’s odd behaviour.

Hoseok pulls back from the cabinet and jeers, “Bubble bath, duh.”

“Oh...uhhhh lavender please.”

Hoseok gets up from the floor, plugs the bathtub, and waits for the water to fill it a generous amount so he can dump in the bubble bath.

Hoseok leaves and returns with an arm full of candles, placing them all over the bathroom and lights them one by one. Once he’s done, he spreads Y/N’s legs apart and stands between them, giving her another passionate kiss. “I love you so much, flower. Let me take care of you. Arms up, angel.”

Y/N listens to his command and he begins to peel off her sweater, trailing soft kisses up her arms, shoulder, and collarbones. “Bum up, please.”

He takes off her jeans, leaving even more kisses and caresses on her thighs and ankles.

He draws back from Y/N and says, “Alright, I'll let you have some peace and quiet now. Call me when you're finished.”

He turns to leave but before he can do so, Y/N calls out, “Hobi, wait! Can you ermmmm…” she begins to trail off, shaking her head. “Nevermind.”

“What is it, flower?”

Y/N, sitting in her bra and underwear, looks down at her feet and shyly whispers, “I just...I was wondering if you could...bathe with me.” She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling with hope and a little bit of embarrassment.

They’ve been intimate before but they’ve never showered or bathed together. Y/N, as busy as she is, treasures her moments of peace so hearing her ask this, Hoseok it elated, wanting nothing more than to comfort and sit skin to skin with the girl he loves.

“ahhhhhh, is my little flower shy?” He teases, creeping between her legs once more.

“Hobiiiiii!” She giggles, burying her face into his neck.

“You don’t have to be so shy, you know. Not when you want me to be with you.”

The two strips off all the fabrics on their persons and Hoseok takes hold of Y/N’s hand so she can safely step inside the bathtub. He trails in after her and the two sit down, Y/N sitting in front of her boyfriend, her back glued to his chest as she leans her head on his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t want to burden you. It’s a lot, really.” She objects, basking in the warmth of the water and the scent of the bubbles.

Hoseok places his hand under Y/N’s chin and turns her head so she’s looking at him. “Look at me. Don’t ever think that you’re burdening me.”

Y/N nods her head, burrowing her cheek on his chest. “Everything is so overwhelming. I feel so stupid in school even if I’m studying hard. I feel like I’m not doing enough at work even if I’m working my ass off every day. I’m working and working and it’s just not worth it. I’m so close to dropping out of university. My dream of becoming a journalist doesn’t feel like a dream any longer. It’s more like a chore.”

Hoseok wraps his arms around Y/N and tuts. “I hope you know you’re the only one who sees that. I know, trust me Y/N I know that school is stressful but you’re passing and all your professors love your papers. You may feel like you're working a dead-end job but it’s only the first step to you achieving your dream. Your hard work isn’t going unnoticed, alright? If you were doing anything wrong, your boss or professors would call you out. You’re doing amazing. Don’t give up, flower, not when you’ve gotten this far.”

“It’s too much, Hobi. I can’t handle it anymore.” She retaliates, trying to squirm free from his grasp.

He holds her tighter, kissing her head. “You can and you will. I’ll be with you every step of the way, cheering you on and picking you up when you fall. I’m not going to sit here and watch as you give up your dream. I’ll support you and make sure you get to where you want to go. You just need to find a nice balance between life and work.” He smirks, pressing a long kiss to her lips and softly brushing his thumb over her cheek. “That’s where I come into play.”

Y/N pulls always and playfully slaps his arm. “You creep! Can’t you keep it in your pants for once?”

“That’s kinda hard to do when I’m sitting naked in a tub with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Y/N flushes into a deep shade of red. “Jeez, way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m kidding...for now.” He purrs, hiding his devilish grin in their kiss. “What I'm not kidding about is making sure you’re getting rest and relaxing once in a while.” He puffs his chest out, forming his lips in a pout. “One day a week will be a certified Hobiday where I get to baby and cuddle you. Ah, ah, ah, no objections. I won’t listen.” He urges, pressing his hands over his ears.

Y/N turns around to face Hoseok in the tub so she can force his hands away. “Alright, alright. There’s really no point in fighting you about this.”

Hoseok perks up. “There really isn’t. Just you wait. Hobiday will be your favourite day of the week. Let’s get out before we prune up, hmmm?”

Hoseok helps Y/N out of the tub and pats her dry with a towel, careful not to let his hands wander.

“I can dry myself, Hobi.” Y/N whines.

“I know you can. I just want to take care of you tonight.”

The two get dressed and relocate to his bedroom, Y/N sitting on his bed and Hoseok standing in the doorway, drying his hair.

“Have you been eating well?” He inquires.

Ashamed, Y/N twiddles with her thumbs and replies, “Just instant ramen. I’ve been too busy to eat a real meal.”

“You’ve been eating instant ramen for two whole weeks?!”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with that. At least I ate something, right?”

“Uhhhhhh wrong??? That’s it. We’re ordering in tonight.”

“It’s fine, I’ll eat something when I get home.” Y/N defends, hopping off the bed.

“Home? You’re not going home tonight. We’re having a sleepover and don’t even think for a second that I’ll let you have another cup of ramen.”

“It’s late and I’m exhausted, Hobi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hoseok shakes his head, walking towards Y/N and tackling her in a bear hug. Y/N struggles to roll on top of him, trying to break free. Instead, Hoseok pins her arms above her head with him straddling her hips.

“Yeah it’s late, you dummy. I’m not letting you go. You can sleep here. We’ll eat good food, watch Netflix, and cuddle. Doesn't that sound nice?”

Y/N falters, eyes glueing onto Hoseok. “I don’t want to intrude.”

He groans, brushing his hands over his face. “You’re not intruding. You know why?” He leans down to Y/N’s face. “Because. I. Love. You. So. Much.” He enunciates, peppering kisses across her cheeks after each word. “Now shut up and take my love.”

Y/N stops fighting and gives in to Hoseok, allowing him to cuddle her and cover her face in kisses.

“Thank you for making sure I don’t make any stupid mistake...and thank you for taking care of me. I love you to no end, Hoseok.”

He grins at her, replying with, “Of course, angel. That’s what your sunshine has to do hmm? I’ve got to make sure my beautiful flower grows strong. And in return you make me shine brighter.”

The two touch foreheads and Y/N whispers once more, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, flower.”

This was it. Y/N knew at this moment that Hoseok was her home, her comfort and that she’d always find her path back to him.

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lochrannn · 3 years

Text

AU-gust: Escaping the Family

Read on AO3

No warnings

prompt no 6: Gaming

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

This is by far the weirdest birthday Lila has ever had.

She’s in a new city in a foreign country, she’s in an escape room for the first time in her life, and she’s somehow ended up in a team with six bickering adult siblings and their teenage brother, who were apparently all born on the same day as her.

This, she finds completely unbelievable, though why they would lie, just to make use of the promotional free admission to people born on the first of October is entirely beyond her.

They’re all wearing stickers with Hello, my name is _______ and their handwritten name printed on them, though Lila feels it’s a little superfluous, as everyone except for her already knows each other, and she was also instantly annoyed when the little twerp in the pretentious school uniform wrote ‘Five’ on his name badge and his siblings are apparently indulging him.

Whatever, she’s not here to argue with a teenager. She’s really not too sure why she’s here at all.

Maybe she was feeling a little low and lonely when she passed the building and saw the ad for the birthday special, but now she's not too sure why she thought this was a good place to meet new people.

Currently she’s quickly losing her cool watching these complete strangers make an absolute pig’s ear of things.

The boy, Five, apparently, is sitting at an antique looking bureau trying to fiddle with something and swatting his brother Ben away, whenever he’s trying to help or interfere, she’s not entirely certain which.

The two siblings who look like models or influencers or something like that, Allison and Klaus are in another corner of the room and flicking small marbles up against the ceiling, though Lila is completely in the dark as to why, and going off their constant criticising of each other’s aim, they’re not doing a particularly good job.

The remaining three siblings Vanya, Luther, and Diego are huddled together in yet another corner, arguing over a scrap of paper and the presumed meaning of the words written on it, though it’s mostly devolved into hissed threats of bodily harm between the two bigger brothers and exasperated eye-rolling from Vanya.

Nobody has paid any attention to Lila in a solid fifteen minutes.

She’d take it personally if it weren’t for the fact that the only reason they seem to be interacting with each other is so they can make snide remarks about their lack of success with their respective tasks.

Lila decides that she’s had enough.

“Jesus Christ, you people are by far the most dysfunctional family I’ve ever come across and I should know, my parents were murdered in a botched robbery when I was four!”

By the end of her outburst she is shouting and now a pin could be heard if it were dropped.

The little wanker in the knee high socks is the first to break the silence, “Thought this was an escape room not a therapy session for traumatized orphans.”

“Hey, Five, don’t be mean to the nice crazy lady!” Diego, who she’s admittedly has had a bit of an eye on, jumps in, but right now the last thing Lila needs is some arsehole pretty boy white-knighting her, so she levels him with the deadliest glare she can manage and to her satisfaction he withers a little and doesn’t say anything else.

The rest of them just stare at her with differing levels of disbelief.

“Right!” Lila says with a determination that she’s mostly using to cover up the sudden awkwardness, “this might not have occurred to you, but can I suggest that we work together as a team and maybe try and solve the puzzles together?” She tries to keep the sarcasm in her voice to a minimum.

The siblings give each other slightly confused looks as if working together may be the furthest thing from their minds.

In the end Vanya is the first to break and says, “We’ve got a message here and I’m quite certain that it’s in Greek, though Diego says it’s Latin and Luther says it’s Russian. Does anyone have an idea what to do with this?”

Five gets up in a huff, storms over to unceremoniously take the note out of Vanya’s hand and then mumbles, “This is definitely ancient Greek, nice spot Vanya! Give me a minute, I think I can translate it.”

Ben, who has now finally got a chance to look at what Five was fiddling with at the bureau, calls out to the rest of them, “There’s two overlaying circle plaques here with the letters A to G in lower case and capital letters on them. There’s also some random small b’s and hashtags strewn in.”

“Let me see!” Vanya comes over to Ben excitedly, seemingly having had an idea. “Oh yeah, that’s a circle of fifths. Hold on we just have to turn it like this to get the right parallel modes together -”

There’s a click and one of the draws opens and Ben reaches in and presents a key to the rest of the group.

Lila is a bit surprised herself at how effective her little tantrum seems to have been.

“Ooh! Ooh! Do us next!” Klaus says with a little enthusiastic clap, looking expectantly at Lila, as if she’s done anything beyond merely pointing out that they should work together.

Allison, next to him, gives him a look that is mostly just an eyebrow lift, but Lila doesn’t need to have grown up with siblings to know that this is probably a very frequent expression between the two of them. Then Allison turns to the room at large and starts explaining, “There’s a small hole up there in the ceiling and we’re pretty certain there’s another switch inside it and there were these conveniently placed marbles that look like they just about fit through the hole, but we've missed everytime so far. I don’t know, maybe Five could get on Luther’s shoulders and see if he can reach it that way…” Allison trails off looking up at the ceiling.

“Show me?” Diego says slightly hesitantly, having kept quiet since Lila had put him in his place with a look.

He walks over to his brother and sister, takes one of the marbles from Allison, flicks it up at the ceiling without much hesitation, and hits the ceiling just next to the tiny hole in the wood panelling.

Without a word Klaus hands him another marble and Diego flicks this one up as well, manages to hit the hole and there’s another click from one of the draws in the bureau.

Ben reaches in and pulls out another key with a delighted, “Aha!”

In the end they get out using the two keys on the locks on the door and punching the code that Five deciphered from the Greek message into the additional keypad.

And then Lila suddenly finds herself out on the cold pavement, her quasi teammates a little way off, apparently arguing over where to go for food, though she’s trying strenuously not to eavesdrop, as now, after she was trying to get away from them as fast as possible, she feels a little forlorn.

She’s pulling the edges of her coat more tightly around herself while she’s wondering whether to try and catch a bus or splash out on a taxi for the occasion of her birthday, when Diego separates from his siblings and wanders over to her, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

“We’re… uh… we’re going for some food, d’you wanna come with?” he asks uncertainly, pulling a hand out to point a thumb over his shoulder towards his family.

Lila looks around him to where the five grown-ups and the teenager are apparently in the middle of a heated argument, and though a moment ago she felt oddly lonely, the thought of spending the rest of the evening with their constant bickering feels like a little much after all.

It seems Diego recognises the dilemma playing out on her face because he crosses his arms, looks down at his boot where he’s kicking at nothing on the pavement, and mumbles, “Or I could ditch them and you and I go out for a drink?”

Lila would have probably said yes anyway, but the shy smile on his face when he finally looks back up at her is stupidly irresistible.

“Won’t your siblings miss you for your birthday dinner?” Lila asks sincerely, though she hopes he’ll say they won’t.

“Eh, we meet up every first Sunday of the month, so I’ll see them at the weekend anyway,” he offers with a shrug.

“Well, do you know of anywhere where I can get a decent pint around here, then?” Lila asks with a bright smile on her face and a small flutter in her chest.

#au_gust_2021 #fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #lochrannn lxd au challenge

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ofmermaidstories · 3 years

Note

Spoilers for the latest chapter of Something!

I'm gonna go ahead and apologize now because this is long; please feel free to ignore my wordy ass, I just have a lot of feelings about a certain someone that showed up in the new chapter lol.

I am still trying to get my shit together enough to write a proper review, but I did want to come yell at you for making the grape boy somewhat likeable, like...

Firstly, how??? Secondly, why?????!?!

Lmao, in all seriousness tho, it's nice to see him have a personality that isn't just "Mmmm, tits" *drools* I like to think that everyone in the series grows up and (mostly) out of the worst of their habits, and while Mineta is still a bit of a lecher here he isn't nearly as offensive/creepy as he comes off in show. In fact he's actually sympathetic in a lot way. The bit about seeing his first dead body before "getting laid" hit different like... He tries to play it off like a joke, but dude has to have just as much PTSD as the rest of them, maybe even more given that he wasn't able to fight back in the same way as someone like Bkg or Deku would be able to with their super powerful offensive quirks. They were all just kids, but they had to face hell full on from jump, and let me stop before I get too in my feelings lol.

In a lot of ways, he reminds of you the boys from school — crude. Taking for granted the safety from being in a pack, unchallenged. Leering at posters, saying off-colour things because no one corrects them.

That's exactly the way I view him, just a crude little thing that refuses to be put in his place for long lol. Still, with his being a hero I would hope that he keeps a cap on it while he's on the job--in fact I'm sure he does; if he didn't I'm sure that Aizawa would've yanked his licence by now, the likes of Deku and Kiri wouldn't continue to associate with him, and that's saying nothing of the shit that would get posted to social mead and such. I feel like the only reason he says what he says to the Reader is b/c she's a little gremlin herself and he knows he's got a bit more leeway, yanno?

The little hangout session that they had at the end of the chapter was weirdly heartwarming?? I want a friend(???) that I can be a surly little shit with and draw on and that will call my bf that's not really my bf but should be my bf because he's (that is Mineta) got more emotional intelligence than me lmao. Never thought I'd see the day when the grape would make for such an excellent wingman--tho I gotta wonder what that text he sent to Deku said. Probably something along the lines of "come get yo girl, she must be bored/lonely af because she asked to hang out with me" followed by "are you ever gonna close the deal or not? or have you already hit it??? >:)" just to give the guy an extra push (or maybe he's got a better sense of self-preservation than what I give him credit for, idk lmfaooo...)

Okay, this is WAY too long, I just had to get it out of my system lol. I loved the new chapter lots and I cannot wait to see how things play out in the next one!!

LOL, oh Puck, i adore you sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj

me being a shit-stirrer/asking myself questions i don’t have answers for under the cut

Cat asked me this question earlier today, actually — why Mineta. And honestly? Part of it is the challenge he represents — like, how do you write him into a fic and mature him up so that he’s at the very least, tolerable, but also keep the backbone of his character (which is being a little degenerate). Like, is it possible? One of the most popular tags on ao3 for mineta minoru is something along the lines of “mineta minoru is replaced with shinsou hitoshi” LOL so…….. why didn’t I just use Shinsou? Or Aoyama or Iida, as Cat suggested? And beyond the part of me that delights in giving myself perceived challenges, there were two stark reasons that stuck out to me, when i was first mulling over his inclusion.

1) the fact that he can draw. it’s literally as simple as that. ever since the BNHA exhibition opened up in Japan and it was revealed that there was a scene in there with a class blackboard and the kids having their little drawing competition — and that Mineta was objectively the most skilled — i was like, “i have to include that”. LOL. it’s like you say, Puck, our Reader is a little gremlin herself — i thought if I was going to write a Reader that could handle interacting with him (ie, be in a position to pay him out) it was going to be this one. I think being in the manga industry and starting out on this journey of creating and drawing a Shonen manga sort of put Reader in this unique position of… being in what seems like a boys’ club? So she’d be used to the male gaze within her field. I follow Horikoshi’s assistant (former assistant?) on twitter and let me tell you, that man is not shy about the things that he likes to draw LOL.

the 2) thing was the philosophy i’ve sort of accidentally given myself LOL and that’s the fact that — as a Bakugou stan, if i’m giving grace to a character who was a literal violent bully then………. i can use my magic powers and hand it around to the other characters, too, LOL. and like, i would argue that with Bakugou it’s different, like we’re currently seeing in the manga how he has grown and learnt and is actively changing, which is the key to any kind of redemption. do i think Mineta will ever undergo that in cannon? absolutely not lmao, i see him as being being Hori’s idea of comedic relief, he’s always going to be a horrible little degen. but i want it for him…… if only to justify why the boys of Class-A collectively ignore his bullshit, for the most part? Like, none of them actively call him out on it?? i think of the time he tried to climb the wall to spy on the girls in the onsen — and how it was literally only Iida scolding him and how it took a child to stop him. Or the one when he found the stupid hole into the girl’s changing room and while the boys all looked grossed out….. Jirou’s the one that point an end to that?????? I saw a TikTok (derogatory) suggesting how like, none of the girls of Class-A would trust Aizawa, as adults, because he didn’t do anything to put an end to Mineta’s bullshit, and it was a devastating suggesting. None of us want to believe that our favourites would be passively okay with this kind of behaviour, right?? Which means……. Mineta’s gotta change LMAO. And if Hori isn’t going to do it then imma borrow him and do it myself. Does it work? I have no idea LMAO i can’t judge anymore, my meter is broken. but i’m gonna work with what i’ve given myself and it either will, or it won’t LMAOOOO kldsfjlksdjflkdj fic is about having fun at the end of the day. :’)

But it’s like you point out, Puck — Mineta is also a child, when these kids get trotted out to their first War. And he’s also not as offensively built as the hard-hitters like Deku and Bakugou and Shouto are. Even if it’s not explored in the manga, that War is going to change them all somehow.

So, my gameplan for Mineta was to grab ahold of the tiny things about him — the talent for drawing, the like one [1] observation he has about the wreckage of the war/pro heroes during the war arc, his tears for Bakugou when B wakes up afterwards and how he tells Deku how cool he was and how much he admires him, in the current Bring Deku Home chapters — and try to envision a sleaze bag who learns that the bullshit he pulls won’t be tolerated, even if he’s still ultimately a skeeze LOL. i mean, he’s never going to drop that er…. appreciation for the female form. and i mean, hey, live your best life King, i’ve distinctly noticed a hand-fetish floating around on this site lately so i’m not gonna be like “NO men can’t like ANYTHING”. But the thing with him being a sleaze and open with his leering is like, he’s actively made the girls of his class uncomfortable with that in the past — how do you write it so that he’s not doing that in a position of power with the women he works with (and saves!), as an adult?? Maturity only goes so far. How much can I bank on the war and the subsequent bullshit they’re gonna face from it on…. transforming him??? It shouldn’t be up to the girls he’s learning with to police him, they’re just children. I have a vague gameplan for it — whether or not it works will be one thing; whether i can naturally shove it into the fic is another, LOL. Guess we’ll see. 🧐

SAYING ALL THAT,,,,, i’m actually really glad you liked (???) the ending scene with him because it’s my favourite LMAO lkdjflkdsjflkdjfkldsjf. 😭😭 Reader is by no means perfect, and she and Mineta both need to start treating each other with more respect, but her bullying of him was fun to write and I like imagining a Mineta who considers himself to be close with Deku (whether or not Deku thinks the same is up for debate) going along with it. i could see this version of Mineta being enough of a shit-stirrer to say something like, “gotta lock that shit down” to Deku LMAO kdfjlkdsjflkdsfjdklsfj and then getting left on a skyscraper somewhere…. RIP short King.

#the puckish rogue: adventures and magic 🪄✨🔮#something just like this - fic #mer-spoils-everything #ofmermaidstories-asks #mermaids talks about 🍇#puck you are always thoughtful and lovely with your comments and i want you to know how much i appreciate them — but mostly how much #i appreciate you for existing in this world 😭 and how by chance we exist at the same time and like the same things 😭💕🌷

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fishmongeringstudies · 3 years

Text

twenty one: i keep waking up in rooms i don't recognize and then realizing that i am still dreaming. my therapist says this is a symptom of a dislocated knee. i have not gone running since march. everyone that i know is lying to me

when i was a kid my parents used to take us to the same restaurant for brunch every sunday. it was on the first floor of a shopping mall which had big panes of glass stitched together for a ceiling and consequently let in far more natural light than your average building, but the restaurant itself was dark. moody. the walls were black and so was all the upholstery. the coffee mugs the waitresses served you coffee in were so dark you couldn't tell how full they were unless you looked extra hard at them, which i rarely did. in most memories of this place i'm seven or eight and i only drink two things: lemon tea and milk. so i'm sitting there with my frosted plastic cup of lemon tea, methodically stirring in my syrup with a skinny metal spoon because they make their lemon tea from scratch here which means no sugar and lots of tea, and my parents are drinking from their big adult mugs, and my sister's picking apart the roasted tomato on my dad's plate, and life, well. life is simple. good.

i can't remember when we stopped going there but i know that by the time i was nine and traipsing around in the hallways of the chinese primary school my parents had transferred me to, it had closed down and been replaced with some other restaurant whose name and shape i can't recall. well before i turned sixteen that entire wing of the first floor was demolished and replaced with the monstrosity that is singapore's flagship muji store. the muji's still there today. it's got a retail area and a few showrooms showcasing lifestyle choices for the upper-middle class citizen and a cafe with a dining area marked out by eclectic hanging decor that looks like a hundred little wastepaper baskets made from twine tied together to form a spotty mural of sorts. i'm fond of the cafe. their desserts are on the expensive side but they're thoughtfully made and look pretty in pictures, prettier in person.

your childhood years are one of those things that gets shinier the further away you stand from it, like how a bad experience becomes bittersweet by necessity if you give it long enough or you'll be stuck carrying that baggage with you forever. looking back, for example, on spring, i am inclined to see the educational takeaways instead of the moments in which my brain shut off and was replaced with a vat of screaming kittens. in this way we propel ourselves forward with the wisdom of the past, scrounged together from moments of pain and deep embarrassment. in this way we find ways to stay alive.

this summer i have wound up in upperclassmen housing by some unfortunate trick of fate. my apartment suite has five bedrooms but only four of them are occupied; i live in the room at the end of the hallway. my flatmates live in the next three. it has been five days since i moved in and i am convinced all of them think that they are living with a cryptid constructed in the scp containment breach format and unsure how to let them know that they are correct without making it personal. last night i woke up after a brief period of dreaming to use the bathroom; while washing my hands in the sink one of my flatmates walked past in the hallway behind me. 'hey, it's you,' she said. 'i feel like i haven't seen you forever. i mean. i've seen you, but i haven't seen seen you, you feel me?' asleep on my feet and ready to crash facefirst into bed, i nodded. 'yes.' she stood there for a few seconds as if expecting me to say more, but i had a vending machine for a brain at the moment and couldn't find it in me to press any more buttons. i certainly could've tried. but i was tired.

when i got on campus in february i resolved to sign up for therapy sessions with the school's mental health services since i was paying an ungodly amount for 'health insurance' (not a thing in singapore, really; not necessary in most places except america, really) anyway and i might as well make use of some small part of the astronomical sum that had been deposited in the pockets of some old white people i would likely never meet in my life. i got as far as filling out the form embedded in the school website and opening the automated email i received a few days later asking me to list my free times each week. i forgot about the rest. we are therefore entering the summer of my twentieth year without a goddamn clue what the inside of my head looks like apart from the fact that it must be pretty cool in there. it has to be cool. if it isn't cool what's the point of holding onto any of it anyway? we live for the spice of life. like garlic powder. cumin. oyster sauce.

this morning i went to target to look for sugar. the dining hall here doesn't do any of its vegetables justice but their desserts are to die for, and i've found myself suffering from a mild withdrawal since i started scrambling eggs and boiling about five hundred grams of cauliflower a day for the sheer therapeutic effect of it and because i don't really know any better. the target near campus is located in a shopping mall and surrounded by miles of parking space on both ends. while walking back across that stretch of empty parking space, i came across a smear of orange on the pavement. it was an orange. or it had been. the rind had been ground into the gravely surface of the road by a repetitive smoothing action so that it looked less like a bit of roadkill and more like it had been there all along. i can't stop thinking about that orange. who the fuck drops an orange in the middle of a road? why didn't they pick it up?

i have been cursed with an idea. it came to me last night before i fell asleep and it has been sitting on my shoulder since then like the devil in the popular angel-and-devil writing device which all nine year olds are taught by their teachers in chinese class, whispering to me about how great things will be if i can teach myself the fundamentals of sound design in three days. unfortunately it is when one decides to start a war that they are forced to confront their contacts list and the vast, untraceable geography of its contents. i cannot tell you if anything will result from this. but i hope that it will.

back when i still talked to her i mentioned the idea of doing puzzles to soothe the mind once and she took to it with so much genuine enthusiasm (she was always enthusiastic. too enthusiastic. enthusiasm was the problem, and the lack of willingness to curtail it the thing that eventually nailed the coffin shut) that i went to target the next weekend and bought a set of four puzzles depicting various scenes from old disney films. over the last two weeks i have done each puzzle three times, save for the last one, in which mickey and minnie mouse waltz down a red carpet and the people on the sidelines cheer for them with champagne moustaches and glittering beads for eyes. i cannot decide if this is meaningful. i cannot see the point of summer. but i am trying.

i don't remember the name of that sunday brunch restaurant. i don't remember the names of a lot of places our parents brought us when we were children, but my sister has been on a nostalgia trip since april and sends me screenshots of old pc games we used to play together from time to time. ernie's adventures in space. timmy's sea adventures. barbie island princess. i open each image and feel something inside of me physically ache in response. it appears that despite my best efforts, i will never be seven years old again.

i'm not a huge fan of lemon tea anymore. i prefer water. how it cleanses the palate like a vacuum cleaner sucking up all the dust and grime in a musty room. it's hard to distinguish between the inside and the outside of a thing when both are the color of a blood-red sunset but we try our best, you know? we draw lines on the sidewalk with chalk and we say 'here is my side of the universe and here is yours'. we act diplomatic when inside we are drunk and slurring our words all over the bartender's white vest. and then, because there is nothing else to do on this planet, we keep on living.

06.10.21

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Incantation of Incineration

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Ok so this work is inspired by an INCREDIBLE fanart I've been blessed to see, do yourself a favor and check it out too - > https://twitter.com/NxngOna/status/1386048795595743239 Mwah, perfection Anyway, rating is M, so beware.

(It's also quickly cobbled together because its a heat-of-the-moment thing, so forgive me if you find mistakes :> I'm far from perfect.)

This had to work.

No, who was she kidding, this wouldn’t work.

It never did, no matter how hard Mikasa tried, how deeply she dug in the library, how much she searched on the internet. Magic was a myth, and it would never work, which saddened the goth girl to no end.

She was fascinated by the supernatural ever since she could remember, devouring magazines, tv-shows or books dedicated to the topic with unhealthy speed. Maybe she was a tiny bit obsessed, but that was okay. Her parents didn’t mind, as long as she kept her grades up, and because Mikasa was very bright that was not hard to achieve. In her free time she kept experimenting, she kept trying, she kept searching for a way to make it work.

To no avail.

No ritual worked. No spell changed anything. No incantation had any effect. Still, she wouldn’t give up. It carried her through high school and it stuck with her in college too. To Mikasa it didn’t matter that goth went out of style, that magic was a forgotten thing for all of her classmates. It was an ethereal thing, bigger than life, something that enhanced the mundane and boring existence.

And today, her faith was rewarded.

Mikasa was studying in a library by herself, having an exam coming up, when her session was interrupted. A small girl appeared, hair shadowing her eyes and an enigmatic smile on the youthful face.

“Hello,”, she said, “Do you like black magic?”

“I.. Uh…”, nervous, the goth pushed an unruly bang that escaped her pigtails behind one pierced ear, “Why do you ask?”

A frown entered her features when Mikasa realized that this was a college library, no place for a small girl.

“Wait, who are you? Where are your parents?”

The girl ignored all this, rudely.

“If you do like magic…”, she leaned closer, “Check the “Worlds Religions” section, the third row.”

“What are you talking about? H-hey!”

Not answering, the girl turned and walked away, disappearing between the bookshelves. Completely dumbfounded, Mikasa sat for a while, wondering what kind of strange experience this was. Honestly, she should ignore that. It was a child, probably making fun of her because of the way Mikasa dressed. It meant nothing.

Maybe.

Most likely.

But what if…

“Screw it.”, two words that fell from between the goth’s lips and she was putting her stuff back in the bag, throwing it over her shoulder, and walking towards the religion section.

Deftly, her fingers ran along the covers as she searched, taking care that none of her rings scratched the books. Third row, was it? Eyes sliding over one book and then the next, Mikasa felt an uneasiness in her stomach upon finding nothing. It was a joke then. The girl….

Here.

This book didn’t belong here. Sure, it had a cross on the front, but that was the only marking. No title, no text, no explanation, only black leather and silver cross imprinted into it. Looking left and right, Mikasa made sure that she’s alone before grabbing the book and opening it, eyes widening immediately.

There were spells scribbled on the pages, strange words that made sense to her only because of the life-long obsession with the occult. Not that Mikasa didn’t see books like these before, but none of the spells in those worked. Yet this one – it appeared so suddenly, and the girl was so mysterious…..

Biting her bottom lip, Mikasa quickly stuffed the book in her bag, leaving the library right after. Studying could wait, her pursuit of magic could not. Nobody noticed her little thievery, nobody called out for her, and when she was walking home, a new hope was blooming in Mikasa’s chest.

Turning the key in its lock, she wasn’t surprised to see that her parents weren’t home. They worked long hours, days sometimes, and Mikasa was used to being alone. Kicking off her heavy leather boots she beelined towards the bedroom, shutting the door after herself. Bag dumped at the foot of the bed, Mikasa pulled out the book and sat cross-legged on the floor, truly studying it.

There were so many spells in the book, so many rituals, it made her head swim. Some were amazing, some terrible, some made her shiver, and other gasp in excitement.

“No point in getting worked up over nothing.”, she calmed herself, “If none of these work….”

A test then, a trial run of one of these, to see if this was real or yet another hoax. Randomly opening the book, her grey eyes slid over the text, taking in the chosen pages.

“A demon summoning ritual.”, she read out loud.

Okay, fine.

It was a fairly basic spell, and Mikasa had everything required. Chalk to draw a pentagram on the floor. Candles in each corner of the star. In the middle, a small bowl waited for her offering. Mikasa kneeled above it, as described in the book, a knife in one hand. Going by the instructions, she was supposed to cut herself, deep enough to bleed. That was fine, but the placement of the required cut was strange. Not a hand, as she usually did, this one had to be on her face beneath the right eye.

Well, Mikasa was determined.

Reading from the book, she began the ritual. The strange words made no sense to her, but it wasn’t the first time that she chanted something without understanding what. The spell was long and tedious to pronounce, luckily she had plenty of experience with speaking tongue-twisting words. Higher and higher her voice climbed until it was the time for the climax of the ritual. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa dragged the knife over her face, catching a few drops of blood into the bowl. Planting it back in the middle of the pentagram, she waited with bated breath, waited and….

Nothing happened.

Satan damn it.

A wave of sadness washed over her as Mikasa sat back on her heels, clutching the book to her chest. This was her best shot by far, and it didn’t do anything. Maybe it was finally time to accept that black magic simply didn’t ex…

A sudden explosion followed by black and red smoke threw her and Mikasa landed on her back, knocking her head against the floor. Her vision was swimming, but she could see that someone was standing in the middle of the pentagram now, a tall figure that angled its head back, a breathy chuckle coming.

“Damn, it's good to breathe air again.”

That voice. That damn voice. So deep, it rumbled through her entire being, tingled some parts that Mikasa didn’t even know existed. Pushing herself up on the elbows, Mikasa was about to ask what is going on when the being looked straight at her.

And she was lost.

Those green eyes pierced her, went right through any sort of mental strength, and dug into the deepest parts of her being. Not even giving her time to think the being moved, fast as a shadow, and suddenly her body was covered by someone. Falling back from the sudden assault with a yelp, Mikasa turned on her hip, still clutching that stupid book to her chest. Fearfully, she raised her eyes and finally saw what the hell did she just summon.

It was a demon all right. A man no doubt, naked from the waist up but (luckily) wearing black pants with multiple leather belts. Nothing strange on his body, at least from what Mikasa saw, but his head was quite a different story. There were horns on the top of his head, black and curved. Strange markings ran down from his emerald eyes, a bit like cuts, heading down the cheeks. Studying it, studying him, Mikasa realized one thing.

Their faces were damn close.

“So you are the one who summoned me?”, the demon asked, a smug smile crossing his admittedly very handsome features, “A girl?”

Mikasa’s throat was dry, so dry that she couldn’t even answer, but the demon didn’t seem to mind. He was looking at her too, eyes roaming all over her face and a certain satisfaction appearing. A strange ringing sound to her left, and suddenly there was a hand touching her, sweeping away hair that fell into her eyes.

He had claws, she realized, claws and torn shackles at his wrists. And while the claws did look sharp his touch was gentle, not hurting her in the slightest.

“A pretty girl at that.”, the demon continued his monologue, “Very pretty…. Beautiful …”

There was hunger in his words now, a primal one that made Mikasa shiver. She had to do something, otherwise this demon would devour her. Gathering all her mental strength, she clutched the book tighter and spoke.

More like squeaked.

“I-I am y-your master now! You c-came because of my c-calling, that ma-makes you mine!”

“Is that so?”, the demon wasn’t bothered by these words in the slightest, more like pleased if she read his face correctly, “Tell me, beautiful…”

Closer, closer he moved and now their faces were practically touching.

“Do you feel in power?”

Unable to speak, Mikasa shook her head as her lips trembled in fear. A single tear rolled from her eye, realizing that while she may have conducted the ritual, she had no idea how to control the demon. Yet before the tear could splash against the floor the demon caught it, a gentle claw swiping across her slightly bleeding cheek.

“There is no need to cry, pretty girl, I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, you are way too beautiful for that, I wouldn’t dream of tainting that. And…”, his nostrils flared as he took a lungful, “you smell wonderful.”

His head dipped low and suddenly it was on Mikasa’s neck. Lips parted and sharp teeth grazed the skin, making her think that despite the earlier words he might still hurt her. Instead of pain a soft kiss was planted on her neck, forcing a gasp from her throat. That sound pleased the demon.

“W-What are you doing?”, Mikasa choked out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t expect me to come all this way from hell and want nothing in return….”, claws appeared again, this time on her upper thighs, dancing around the lace of her stockings, “There is an ocean of pleasure I could drown you in, my beauty, and I’m feeling generous tonight…”

Retreating from her neck the demon faced her again, the green eyes scorching with intensity.

“What do you say, mortal, want a taste?”

No! – her rational half screamed.

But…

He was so beautiful, so unreal, he was everything Mikasa dreamed about. Dark magic was real, it summoned a demon for her, one that was offering her pleasure. Those damn claws on her sensitive skin, the aftertaste of his lips on her neck, the delicious heat his body produced, pressed so close to her….

“Y-Yes.”, Mikasa found herself saying, unable to stop it, “I do.”

The smile that appeared on the demon’s lips, that was the epitome of smugness.

“Good.”

Without further ado, he crashed his lips into hers, finally kissing her. Mikasa was taken aback by this, head lolling back and jaw wrenched helplessly open. The demon’s tongue slipped into her mouth, abnormally long and dexterous, wrapping around her own in one slick motion. At the same time the claws moved, repositioning from her thighs to between them, pressing against her heat. Overcome at several places, Mikasa moaned out loud.

Black panties nudged aside, now the tip of the claw was teasing her wetness directly, building her frustration up. She couldn’t do anything, hands uselessly hanging on the side, the book cluttering on the floor. His tongue was everywhere in her mouth, taking it as its own home, even brushing against Mikasa’s throat. How long was that damn thing?

By the time he finally allowed her to breathe Mikasa was panting, eyes wide and cheeks boiling red. Observing the fruits of his labor, the demon noticed the blood still trickling down, his tongue sweeping out to lick at it.

“Delicious…”, he purred, gently caressing the tiny cut that was already healing, thanks to his tongue, “You taste wonderfully too.”

“P-Please…”, was all Mikasa could say, begging with her eyes more than with her words.

“Oh? Is there something you want?”, the rubbing grew even faster, forcing her to arch her hips and moan again.

“Please!”, she practically screamed, tilting her hips for a better angle.

Deciding that he had tortured her enough, the demon slipped a single finger inside her, exploring the fluttering walls. The penetration made her gasp wonderfully, eyes sliding shut from the intensity. She was tight, tighter than he expected, making him frown.

“I don’t think that I can go all the way with you tonight, my beauty.”, he sighed, “It would hurt you too much.”

Summoning a single braincell to work, Mikasa cracked an eye open.

“W-What?”

The demon’s answer was a grin.

“Not to worry, I have many more weapons at my disposal.”

A second claw joined the first one, scissoring her open, and Mikasa lost control of her voice. With her mouth occupied by frantic breathing, the demon attacked the neck again, biting into the skin. She was so pale and colored beautifully beneath his teeth, and he chuckled inwardly imagining all the bruises that were sure to bloom on her.

There were wet sounds in the room, squelching as he fingered her, her body being such an amazingly reacting toy. Pulling his fingers out, the demon admired the trail of wetness that connected them to her twitching womanhood. Mikasa’s blood tasted wonderful, so how about….

The long tongue was back in action, she realized, watching as the demon licked his fingers clean from her essence, an expression of pure joy appearing on his features.

“Now this… This is something else.”, his eyes found hers, a wicked grin on the demon’s face, “I need to taste you properly.”

Faster than a snake he was gone, head appearing between her stockinged legs. With a quick swipe of his claw the demon snapped the waistband of her panties open, throwing the ruined underwear away. Grabbing Mikasa’s asscheeks he spread her open for him, planting his face exactly where she wanted it to be. Right against her throbbing sex.

If the abnormal demon tongue felt amazing in her mouth, having it down there was indescribable. Licking at her glistening outer lips first, he glided everywhere on the wet skin, cleaning it. And then he was inside. The long muscle slid into her, writhing around and Mikasa clasped her hands over her mouth just in time before a loud scream ripped its way from her throat. This was incredible.

Nothing ever came close to how the demon’s tongue made her feel. Never in her life did Mikasa experience this much pleasure because the tongue reached everywhere stimulating the entirety of her sex in long strokes and vibrations that she had no idea how he produced. Her eyes rolled back, her chest contracted, her legs clenched around his head. Relentless in his pursuit of Mikasa’s sweetness, the demon kept tongue-fucking her with a clear purpose in mind. To speed it up, to reach his feast faster, a single claw dragged over her swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and….

Mikasa lost it.

Complete whiteness washed over her vision as she came, her inner walls contracting wildly around the demonic tongue. She pulsed and pulsed and produced more of that delicious nectar that he eagerly drank in, not letting even a drop go to waste. Mikasa’s blood was delicious but this was beyond delicious, it was the best thing that he ever tasted and the demon couldn’t get enough.

When her body began to calm, a frown entered his handsome features.

“Oh no, this won’t do, I need more.”

Mikasa didn’t even get a chance to talk before the tongue slid inside her again and she screamed, eyes shutting and features contorting. Apparently once was not enough, and the demon was intent on making her come on his face again.

This was going to be a long night.

In the end, Mikasa lost count on how many times the demon made her cum. Not tiring, not needing a break, he kept pleasuring her, toying with her clit and abusing her sex. She was lost in an unending stream of happy hormones, drowning in that ocean of pleasure the demon promised her. His grip on her was firm and Mikasa’s hips were grounded, the demon didn’t allow her to move away from him, holding his prize close. Only when she was truly done and couldn’t do it anymore, when she whined in discomfort instead of pleasure did he pull back, sated.

For now.

Completely done and spent Mikasa was practically passed out, body unresponsive and eyes closed. Hands circled her, easily picking her up and carrying her a short distance. She was gently deposited in the bed and someone pulled the covers over her before a kiss was planted on her forehead. And then a heated whisper entered her ears, pushing its way into the brain even through the curtain of absolute exhaustion.

“If you want more, my beauty, you know where to find me.”, another kiss, this time on her lips, “I’ll be waiting.”

Finally, the darkness overcame her completely.

When Mikasa woke up, hours later, she thought that it all must have been a dream. That delusion lasted for only about a second before the rest of her body woke up, the ache in her lower regions demanding that she accepts the reality. Lifting the covers, Mikasa’s eyes shot open.

Her body was still fully clothed, as the demon didn’t bother with disrobing her, only her panties were gone. There were bruises, so many bruises on her upper thighs, the small part left uncovered by the stockings littered with bites. Her neck received a similar treatment, judging from the ache.

The pentagram was there, albeit the candles were snuffed out, the book lying innocently in the middle. Mikasa tried standing up to get it, only to realize that her legs refused to carry her and she fell back into the bed. Despite all this ache, despite all the unknown, Mikasa’s lips spread into a smile as she eyed the book.

The goth girl and her green-eyed demon are going to have so much fun together.

#fanart inspired #snk #eremika #fanfic

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moon-stars01 · 3 years

Text

-Shimmer-

Mingyu x Reader

Author:spinebreaka

Summary: When he approaches you in the library the last thing you expected was to be tutoring the cute Gryffindor beater Kim Mingyu for the upcoming Defence Against The Dark Arts exam. As you help him with his worst subject you can’t help but enjoy your time together. And as the exam inches closer and closer you find yourself in for a surprise.

Pairing:Mingyu(Svt) x Reader

Gene:Harry Potter au,magic au,fluff,

Rating:General Audiences

Word Count:3226

-Shimmer-

“It’s not real, the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky.”

Breakfast was in full swing this morning, the excited chatter of the students with the delicious smells coming from the tables made for a cheerful morning despite the heavy rainfall outside. You never get tired of looking at the great halls ceiling. Ever since you started your school years at Hogwarts you were fascinated with the great halls enchantment, mimicking not only the sky outside but also the weather. Today for instance it was the sight of the morning sun breaking through the rain clouds. It was perfect Quidditch weather for the match later today. The commotion coming from each house table was almost deafening. It was the match that decided the winners of this year’s Quidditch cup and everybody was excited to see the Hufflepuff VS Gryffindor match. But with the excitement of the match also came the dread and anticipation for the Practical exam for all DADA students.

You were also giddy with anticipation for the upcoming match, while your initial loyalty lies with the Ravenclaw team, today you would be cheering for Gryffindor to win. The reason you would be sporting a red and gold banner sat two tables away from you, picking at his breakfast looking as though he wanted the ground to swallow him.

Kim Mingyu.

He was half of the pair that made up the beaters for the Gryffindor team and one of the best players the team had had in years, Hufflepuff were good, but so were Gryffindor. You had only recently started interacting with Mingyu outside of classes together. Yes you had quite a few classes with Mingyu over the last 6 years at Hogwarts, but it’s only in this semester you’ve really gotten to know him. He was the athletic over intellect type, preferring to be on the Quidditch pitch rather than the classroom and while he was quite an intelligent student, his mind flitted around like a snitch in certain classes, not enough to fail but enough to draw the attention of professors to his grades. It’s actually this reason your out of class interactions had started.

It had all started when he approached you in the library one afternoon.

________________________

You were browsing the astronomy section of the Library, needing a little extra help in this subject, it really wasn’t your strong point, you were more of a practical student, preferring potions and charms, DADA being the subject you excelled most in. You were just about to go check the books out when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, turning, you were surprised to see Mingyu, he was in your DADA and care of magical creatures classes earlier that day, but apart from classes together, the two of you had never really spoken to each other, so why was he approaching you now?

“Um, Y/N right?” His hair was windswept and damp looking, his tie was missing and his shirt was un-tucked.

“Umm yes? Mingyu from Gryffindor right?”

“Right… Sorry I look like a mess, I came straight from Quidditch practice to find you, your friend told me you’d be here, I was wondering if you could help me” He runs his hand through his sweaty hair as he asks you, attempting to tidy himself up.

“Ohhh, so uh, what is it you wanted to ask that you needed to hunt me down?” you laughed adjusting the books in your hands “I dont think I’ve ever seen you in the Library before.“

He returns your laughter and places his hands in his pockets "yeah, I’m not one for that stuffy book smell” his nose crinkles slightly “Sooo, I know you’re one of the better DADA students in our year… I’m a disaster at this class, my grades have slipped so much Mcgonagall has had to give me a chat,” He sighs as he walks to the table closest to you both, you followed him and set your books down. “I really need to get my grades back up to passable, if not, Mcgonagall has said I might have to withdraw from the Quidditch team…”

Now that surprised you. “Wow she would really do that? She’s always had a competitive streak when it comes to the Quidditch cup… You’d think she would want her team filled with the best players.." You sat pondering his words as he smiled dishearteningly. "So, you need help?”

His eyes brightened at the mention of helping him, his shoulders broadened slightly and his lips parted “Yeah, I know you’re a wiz at this defence against the dark arts stuff, and we have that practical test after Christmas, I need to pass so badly” he sighs “Quidditch is my life you know? It’s all I ever wanted to do since I was young, and the thought of being kicked off the team because I’m crap at defensive spells…” he rubs his face with his hands in irritation.

You couldn’t help but feel for him, he was indeed a great Quidditch player, he tried out as soon as he could and has been a solid team member for Gryffindor since your second year, and yes, you had noticed his… lacking skills in DADA, but you never thought he would be given an ultimatum of pass or get kicked off the team. His grades must have dropped drastically for Mcgonagall to risk losing a good player from the team.

“I don’t mind helping you if you want me too?” You offered and could have sworn you saw his eyes water slightly. You stood from the table, going to gather your books as he shoots up, grabbing them for you, his voice raises as he goes to thank you.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you have no idea how grateful I would be! I promise you won’t regret this! You’re doing me such a huge favour!”

________________________

It had been 4 months since you agreed to help Mingyu out with his DADA lessons, and you both have developed something of a friendship within a tutorship. The Saturdays you had free were spent going over the subject criteria from each lesson, both written and practical. On the written stuff, Mingyu had been doing really well, meeting you in the library and handing in his essays on time, but then there was the practical stuff….

To say Mingyu was bad was an understatement.

He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was crap at this, you don’t even think it’s because he prioritises Quidditch. He’s just, REALLY bad.

The Practical exam had gotten closer and closer, now being only a month away, the defensive charm that was to be performed had been announced to the class. The goal was to conjure a full or shield form of the patronus charm. You had been working with Mingyu every weekend and free time you had for months, but to his annoyance, he just wasn’t getting the hang of it. The stress of getting nowhere had started to take its toll on his morale, so much so that recently he’s started rain checking, or straight up dodging the tutoring sessions. You felt for him, you really did, but it irked you slightly that you’re using your personal time to help him when you’ve got your own subjects to study for, Astronomy was kicking your ass right now, and he’s ditching? Not if you had anything to say about it.

Making your way to the Quidditch pitch, you knew he would be there, it’s his favourite hangout spot besides from the Gryffindor common room, this was the only place you can actually go and find him. His arms were over his face, shielding from the light of the midday sun. You approach the bench and your sharp tone startles him slightly.

“You know, if you don’t want me to tutor you anymore you just have to say.” You cross your arms looking down on him, your irritation clear on your face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I ditched, I ju-”

“For the 4th time in a row, You know you’re not the only one with subjects to study for right?” He looks at you with guilty eyes as you continue on ranting to him. “ I get it, you’re stressed out about the exam, but getting nowhere, and ditching, is still gonna get you nowhere.”

you push his legs off the bench and sit beside him, Mingyu sitting up and adjusting himself as he looks down at the floor. He sighs and kicks the sand, turning his eyes to you.

“…I am sorry Y/N, I know you’re taking time out or your own study time to help me, believe me I’m grateful… I just get so stressed out that I’m getting nowhere with producing the patronus.”

“You’re not getting nowhere though, Mingyu, look how far you’ve come in 4 months, your grades are up, your essays are getting in on time, and you’re getting better at practical charms, you can’t say you’re getting nowhere.”

“But I am, I’m no closer to casting the charm than I was months ago."

"Well,” you took a breath, thinking of possibilities “maybe it’s your approach to it, you still haven’t told me the memory you are focusing on, is it a powerful happy one?"

He looked up from the ground, a confused look about his face "Beating Slytherin in the last match.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s the problem, you need a memory that fills you with so much happiness and emotion… I don’t think beating Slytherin really classes as the right memory here.” You chuckle a little, but Mingyu looks exasperated.

“Then what kind of memory?”

“What about your parents?” You notice Mingyus face falter slightly.

Mingyu’s lips twist a little, his eyes downcast as his voice is lower than usual, “I, I don’t have parents, they uh, they died when I was younger, I live with my Grandmother."

There was a moment of silence that followed his response. Neither of you knew what to say next. Looking at him, you see his shoulders shake slightly, and you reach for his hand, his cold knuckles were a drastic change to your warm palms. He looks up, meeting your gaze.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but thank you for telling me.”

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, a silent response to you, and after a few moments, he finally speaks.

“Your patronus is a cat, right?”

“Yeah."

"How is it supposed to feel, when you cast the patronus?”

“Well I’ve read it’s different for everyone, but for me, it’s kind of like a shimmery feeling?” His eyebrows quirk “Like, a feeling of being washed over by something warm.”

“Like a blanket?” He smiles.

“I was thinking more like when you step outside into a warm day” His comment made you let out a belt of laughter, to which he joins in.

After your little laughing session, the two of you chatted about anything and everything, you realised you practically knew nothing about each other. You completely overlooked the feast, instead the two of you filled each other in about your childhoods, your friends,and any other topic you could think of talking about. It was only when rain started to fall that the two of you decide to head back inside, curfew creeping closer and closer, you would have to leave eventually. You and Mingyu don’t manage to outrun the downpour, getting quite soaked on your way inside, but this just makes the both of you laugh even more than earlier.

He shakes his head, sending out droplets hitting you in your face in the process, to which you land a whack on his shoulder, the laughter dies down slightly, reduced to slight chuckles as the two of you look at each other.

There’s a moment, a moment of eyes locking that you both stop the chuckles, and Mingyu reaches for your face, tucking a wiping your wet hair from your face. Neither of you move. There’s silence, but you both look at each other again, and you can’t help but erupt into giggles again as he shakes his head again, even more droplets of rain hit your face.

The two of you finally make your way to the second staircase, you heading up another level, him continuing down the corridor. Both of you had a renewed tutoring plan. Mingyu seemed to have a fire lit under his butt, even more determined to ace this test, and he has a memory in mind to focus on, he just hopes it’s the right choice.

________________________

So here you sat at the Ravenclaw table, your breakfast finished, you drank some tea trying to calm your nerves, exams always made you nervous. But looking at the Gryffindor table, you knew you didn’t have the worst case of pre-exam jitters out there, that honour goes to Mr Kim Mingyu himself. In the last month you and Mingyu had been spending every free moment of your time helping him cast the patronus charm. You don’t know what happened to him, but by some miracle, he was able to produce a shield form! You begged him to tell you what his new memory was, but whatever it was, he was keeping it to himself. But if it helped him focus it more by keeping it secret you wouldn’t pry, this was the best progress he had made in the whole of the tutoring sessions. You were so proud of him. In the past month he had been so dedicated to his exam prep, you even heard him having to ditch Quidditch practice once or twice, this was serious for him.

But for all his dedication and prep, right now he looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. You knew he didn’t do well in exams either, but for him this exam was more important than anything else.

He looked up and caught your eyes, to which you flashed him a reassuring smile, to he replied with the hand motion of his head exploding. The two of you shared a giggle across the room as you finished breakfast before heading to the DADA classroom.

The class was all lined up in house order: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and finally Gryffindor. Waiting for each student to turn, you see plenty of people fail, others producing shield form patronus charms, some even full bodied, you see various different animals, horses, ferrets, owls, dogs for example. Your house’s turn came quickly and your turn came even quicker, your patronus forming into a cat pretty quickly and you make your way to the other end of the classroom to wait and watch for the other students. After the rest of your house and the Hufflepuff students, it’s finally Mingyu’s turn.

He steps forward slowly, you can see his breathing increase and he bites his bottom lip slightly, the professor tells him to cast when he’s ready. You catch his eyes as he readies his wand, and you show him thumbs up as you smile at him, reassuring him that he’s got this in the bag. He exhales and closes his eyes, focusing himself on his memory, and when he opens his eyes he readies his wand and chants.

“Expecto Patronum!”

There’s a moment, a long, dragged out moment of nothing, and then, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, his wand shimmers in white light, and there it is.He casts a full bodied patronus. A cat patronus. Your surprised and join the other Gryffindor students cheering for him as he looks at his Patronus in awe.

Mingyu can’t believe his eyes. He did it. He cast a Patronus charm, a full bodied patronus! His face erupts with a wide grin as he makes his way to the other students, the Gryffindors crowding him and rejoicing their Quidditch team will not be down a player no doubt. Mingyu looks at you and you can’t help but laugh and smile like a giddy fool about his achievement.

The other students finish their practicals and the professor dismisses everyone for free. As the class files out of the classroom in relief, Mingyu envelops you in a tight hug, you feel the air leave your lungs as he practically screams in your ear.

“Y/N!!!! I did it!! You are my literal life saver.” You wheeze a little for emphasis and he lets you go, gaining your breath back you laugh and join him in the merriment.

“YOU did it! I’m so proud of you, all the practice paid off I told you it would!!”

Mingyus’ teammates crowded him and congratulated him. The seeker hoshi messed his hair as the other half of the Gryffindor beaters, Seungcheol offered a fist bump. Jeonghan looked between the two and couldn’t help but laugh a little as his eyes lit up mischievously.

“sooo, all this time you’ve been getting help from Y/N eyyyy"

Mingyu laughed as he returned the fist hump

"Yeah, she is the reason I’m staying on the team, I wouldn’t have even been able to cast a shield if not for her helping me!”

You couldn’t help but blush a little at his words, which Jeonghan picked up on, setting his eyes on Mingyu again as he spoke.

“ So you both have cat forms for your Patronus animal huh, you know I read a person’s patronus form can be influenced by someone else, if the caster feels deeply for the other person. Isn’t that funny, It’s almost as if you love Y/N, how peculiar.”

You stand still for a second, so does Mingyu , taking in Jeonghan’s words, Love? Surely not, You only helped him with the charm, that doesn’t mean he’s madly in love with you… right…

Mingyu laughs nervously and punches Jeonghan’s shoulder while the captain of the Gryffindor team, Seungcheol set to work immediately, bringing focus onto the upcoming game this afternoon, excusing themselves from you to get ready to meet up with the other team mates. Mingyu lagged behind, turning to you, an awkward silence washing over the both of you,

“So uhh, Y/N, I can’t say enough how grateful I am” he scratches his head a little.

“Pshh, you cast the charm, I just gave you a little nudge… I have to ask though, I’m curious ” He looked at you “ what was your memory? Did you end up changing it?”

Mingyu’s eyes went to the floor for a second, and then back to yours, his hands went into his robe pockets, “ Yeah, and no… I mean I did change it, last minute.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was getting ready to cast the charm, when I thought back to that afternoon, on the Quidditch pitch… I um,”

You wait patiently for him to finish his sentence, a hot feeling reaching your cheeks.

“I thought about when we came back inside from the rain, when I moved your hair out of your face, I uh” He chuckles to himself “ I thought about you.”

Oh. Wow.

You weren’t expecting that…

“You were thinking of me?”

“Yeah, Jeonghan wasn’t exactly wrong back there…”

________________________

“The form of a Patronus may change during the course of a witch or wizard’s life. Instances have been known of the form of the Patronus transforming due to bereavement,falling in love or profound shifts in a person’s character

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #stories #kpop #mingyu #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #shimmer

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boywivlove · 4 years

Text

Shimmers |

Pairing | Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre | Harry Potter au | Friends to Lovers | Fluff

Summary | When he approaches you in the library the last thing you expected was to be tutoring the cute Gryffindor beater Jeon Jungkook for the upcoming Defence Against The Dark Arts exam. As you help him with his worst subject you can’t help but enjoy your time together. And as the exam inches closer and closer you find yourself in for a surprise.

Authors note | Eeeeeeee I can finally post this! This is my coffeehouse workshop gift for @widowkooks Surprise its me, your anon writer!!! I really hope you like what I’ve written. I tried to fit in the info I got from you uwu

“It’s not real, the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky.”

Jeon Jungkook.

He was half of the pair that made up the beaters for the Gryffindor team and one of the best players the team had had in years, Hufflepuff were good, but so were Gryffindor. You had only recently started interacting with Jungkook outside of classes together. Yes you had quite a few classes with Jungkook over the last 6 years at Hogwarts, but it’s only in this semester you’ve really gotten to know him. He was the athletic over intellect type, preferring to be on the Quidditch pitch rather than the classroom and while he was quite an intelligent student, his mind flitted around like a snitch in certain classes, not enough to fail but enough to draw the attention of professors to his grades. It’s actually this reason your out of class interactions had started.

It had all started when he approached you in the library one afternoon.

You were browsing the astronomy section of the Library, needing a little extra help in this subject, it really wasn’t your strong point, you were more of a practical student, preferring potions and charms, DADA being the subject you exceledl most in. You were just about to go check the books out when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, turning, you were surprised to see Jungkook, he was in your DADA and care of magical creatures classes earlier that day, but apart from classes together, the two of you had never really spoken to each other, so why was he approaching you now?

“Um, Y/N right?” His hair was windswept and damp looking, his tie was missing and his shirt was untucked.

“Umm yes? Jungkook from Gryffindor right?”

“Ohhh, so uh, what is it you wanted to ask that you needed to hunt me down?” you laughed adjusting the books in your hands “I dont think I’ve ever seen you in the Library before."

His eyes brightened at the mention of helping him, his shoulders broadened slightly and his lips parted “Yeah, I know you’re a wiz at this defence against the dark arts stuff, and we have that practical test after christmas, I need to pass so badly” he sighs “Quidditch is my life you know? It’s all I ever wanted to do since I was young, and the thought of being kicked off the team because I’m crap at defensive spells…” he rubs his face with his hands in irritation.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you have no idea how grateful I would be! I promise you won’t regret this! You’re doing me such a huge favour!”

It had been 4 months since you agreed to help Jungkook out with his DADA lessons, and you both have developed something of a friendship within a tutorship. The Saturdays you had free were spent going over the subject criteria from each lesson, both written and practical. On the written stuff, Jungkook had been doing really well, meeting you in the library and handing in his essays on time, but then there was the practical stuff….

To say Jungkook was bad was an understatement.

He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was crap at this, you don’t even think it’s because he prioritises Quidditch. He’s just, REALLY bad.

The Practical exam had gotten closer and closer, now being only a month away, the defensive charm that was to be performed had been announced to the class. The goal was to conjure a full or shield form of the patronus charm. You had been working with Jungkook every weekend and free time you had for months, but to his annoyance, he just wasn’t getting the hang of it. The stress of getting nowhere had started to take its toll on his morale, so much so that recently he’s started rain checking, or straight up dodging the tutoring sessions. You felt for him, you really did, but it irked you slightly that you’re using your personal time to help him when you’ve got your own subjects to study for, Astronomy was kicking your ass right now, and he’s ditching? Not if you had anything to say about it.

“You know, if you don’t want me to tutor you anymore you just have to say.” You cross your arms looking down on him, your irritation clear on your face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I ditched, I ju-”

you push his legs off the bench and sit beside him, Jungkook sitting up and adjusting himself as he looks down at the floor. He sighs and kicks the sand, turning his eyes to you.

“You’re not getting nowhere though, JK, look how far you’ve come in 4 months, your grades are up, your essays are getting in on time, and you’re getting better at practical charms, you can’t say you’re getting nowhere.”

“But I am, I’m no closer to casting the charm than I was months ago."

"Well,” you took a breath, thinking of possibilities “maybe it’s your approach to it, you still haven’t told me the memory you are focusing on, is it a powerful happy one?"

He looked up from the ground, a confused look about his face "Beating Slytherin in the last match.”

“Then what kind of memory?”

“What about your parents?” You notice Jungkooks face falter slightly.

Jungkook’s lips twist a little, his eyes downcast as his voice is lower than usual, “I, I don’t have parents, they uh, they died when I was younger, I live with my Grandmother."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but thank you for telling me.”

Jungkook grasps your hand in his, a silent response to you, and after a few moments, he finally speaks.

“Your patronus is a cat, right?”

“Yeah."

"How is it supposed to feel, when you cast the patronus?”

“Well I’ve read it’s different for everyone, but for me, it’s kind of like a shimmery feeling?” His eyebrows quirk “Like, a feeling of being washed over by something warm.”

“Like a blanket?” He smiles.

“I was thinking more like when you step outside into a warm day” His comment made you let out a belt of laughter, to which he joins in.

After your little laughing session, the two of you chatted about anything and everything, you realised you practically knew nothing about each other. You completely overlooked the feast, instead the two of you filled each other in about your childhoods, your friends,and any other topic you could think of talking about. It was only when rain started to fall that the two of you decide to head back inside, curfew creeping closer and closer, you would have to leave eventually. You and Jungkook don’t manage to outrun the downpour, getting quite soaked on your way inside, but this just makes the both of you laugh even more than earlier.

There’s a moment, a moment of eyes locking that you both stop the chuckles, and Jungkook reaches for your face, tucking a wiping your wet hair from your face. Neither of you move. There’s silence, but you both look at each other again, and you can’t help but erupt into giggles again as he shakes his head again, even more droplets of rain hit your face.

The two of you finally make your way to the second staircase, you heading up another level, him continuing down the corridor. Both of you had a renewed tutoring plan. Jungkook seemed to have a fire lit under his butt, even more determined to ace this test, and he has a memory in mind to focus on, he just hopes it’s the right choice.

So here you sat at the Ravenclaw table, your breakfast finished, you drank some tea trying to calm your nerves, exams always made you nervous. But looking at the Gryffindor table, you knew you didn’t have the worst case of pre-exam jitters out there, that honour goes to Mr Jeon Jungkook himself. In the last month you and Jungkook had been spending every free moment of your time helping him cast the patronus charm. You don’t know what happened to him, but by some miracle, he was able to produce a shield form! You begged him to tell you what his new memory was, but whatever it was, he was keeping it to himself. But if it helped him focus it more by keeping it secret you wouldn’t pry, this was the best progress he had made in the whole of the tutoring sessions. You were so proud of him. In the past month he had been so dedicated to his exam prep, you even heard him having to ditch Quidditch practice once or twice, this was serious for him.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Jungkook can’t believe his eyes. He did it. He cast a Patronus charm, a full bodied patronus! His face erupts with a wide grin as he makes his way to the other students, the Gryffindors crowding him and rejoicing their Quidditch team will not be down a player no doubt. Jungkook looks at you and you can’t help but laugh and smile like a giddy fool about his achievement.

The other students finish their practicals and the professor dismisses everyone for free. As the class files out of the classroom in relief, Jungkook envelops you in a tight hug, you feel the air leave your lungs as he practically screams in your ear.

“Y/N!!!! I did it!! You are my literal life saver.” You wheeze a little for emphasis and he lets you go, gaining your breath back you laugh and join him in the merriment.

“YOU did it! I’m so proud of you, all the practice paid off I told you it would!!”

Jungkooks’ teammates crowded him and congratulated him. The seeker Hoseok messed his hair as the other half of the Gryffindor beaters, Jimin offered a fist bump. Jimin couldn’t help but laugh a little as his eyes lit up mischievously.

“sooo, all this time you’ve been getting help from Y/N eyyyy"

Jungkook laughed as he returned the fist hump

"Yeah, she is the reason I’m staying on the team, I wouldn’t have even been able to cast a shield if not for her helping me!”

You couldn’t help but blush a little at his words, which Jimin picked up on, setting his eyes on Jungkook again as he spoke.

You stand still for a second, so does Jungkook, taking in Jimin’s words, Love? Surely not, You only helped him with the charm, that doesn’t mean he’s madly in love with you… right…

Jungkook laughs nervously and punches Jimin’s shoulder while the captain of the Gryffindor team, Namjoon set to work immediately, bringing focus onto the upcoming game this afternoon, excusing themselves from you to get ready to meet up with the other team mates. Jungkook lagged behind, turning to you, an awkward silence washing over the both of you,

“So uhh, Y/N, I can’t say enough how grateful I am” he scratches his head a little.

“Pshh, you cast the charm, I just gave you a little nudge… I have to ask though, I’m curious ” He looked at you “ what was your memory? Did you end up changing it?”

Jungkook’s eyes went to the floor for a second, and then back to yours, his hands went into his robe pockets, “ Yeah, and no… I mean I did change it, last minute.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was getting ready to cast the charm, when I thought back to that afternoon, on the Quidditch pitch… I um,”

You wait patiently for him to finish his sentence, a hot feeling reaching your cheeks.

“I thought about when we came back inside from the rain, when I moved your hair out of your face, I uh” He chuckles to himself “ I thought about you.”

Oh. Wow.

You weren’t expecting that…

“You were thinking of me?”

“Yeah, Jimin wasn’t exactly wrong back there…”

———————————————————————————-

#coffeehouseworkshop20 #btswritingcafe #armysource #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #harry potter au #bts au #bts harry potter au #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

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ravenwolfie97 · 3 years

Text

2020 Art Summary

Yep, it’s 2021 already. 2020 is finally over. It felt like it lasted forever, and it felt like the end would never come, but here we are. Crazy how the time flew by.

I felt like I didn’t get much art done this year because of Current World Event, but I made a lot more than I thought I did. Even some of my new favorite pieces came out of this year, so I think that’s worth celebrating and looking back upon!

I was insanely productive during the first month of 2020, and looking back I was surprised at all the stuff I did, but then I remembered that that winter season was actually one of the best times of my life! I started being more socially involved, and I think my newfound drive at the time translated into all the art I pumped out this month. This is just a small fraction of what I made in January, but I only have so much space. Quite a few complex pieces in both style exploration and polishing my own style.

Apparently February was a rather intimate month. Things began to slow down in terms of my own art here, with me spending more time in social settings and school work ramping up, I didn’t have as much time to coop up in my room to draw. I did wanna do something for a friend’s Valentine’s Day OC art challenge, so I drew my lovey-dovey couple from Dance of 1000 Words havin’ a dance. Nothing actually came of that challenge, but it was fun to do regardless.

One of the things I was most proud of in the winter season was making more friends, and one of the closest friends I made was completely coincidental. I met a person named Kiri on the bus one night I decided to volunteer somewhere by myself, and we ended up chatting and getting along. They quickly told me their tumblr username, and I shot them a message immediately after they left. A couple days later, we met up for brunch, and we started becoming really close friends and creative partners!

Not much else happened in March cuz that’s when Current World Event started becoming an issue, but Kiri and I still kept in close touch and we randomly started developing a concept for a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Galar Edition. These are a handful of characters we thought up, with Skipper the Scorbunny and Dross the Dreepy as the main characters, Morgrem as the main antagonist, and some shopkeepers such as those of the Greedent Bank and the Indeedee General Store. This was also my first time drawing all of these Galar Pokemon (except Scorbunny, but I also made Skipper a bit more unique than a regular Scorbunny).

Lots of events happened this month. First of all, Steven Universe Future ended, one of my favorite and most influential shows was no longer continuing. I had to do something as tribute, both as a send-off to one of the greatest cartoons in the world and as a cathartic release for my feelings towards it.

A while later, I got the opportunity to start playing an MMO in beta called Fer.al, by the same people who made Animal Jam, which coincidentally I had also beta tested for back in the day. I ended up getting really attached to my first character, a Senri I named Sasha, and though I’ve made more characters than them since, they’re still my absolute favorite. Though I haven’t touched the game in a few months, I was really engrossed for a long time and enjoyed playing through the beta and early access phases.

At the end of the month, some friends of mine invited to a roleplay group with some mutuals, and we all played characters in a crime syndicate. Just a bunch of ragtag thieves and criminals who ended up together in order to protect an artifact called the Crown of Thieves, which was essentially a flag to be taken by other groups to prove that they are the best thieves in the land. My character was based heavily on my sona (if it wasn’t obvious) and was also influenced by Cloud Strife, since the FFVII Remake had just come out and I was super into watching the cutscenes at the time. My character’s (code)name is Valkyrie, and they are a mercenary, going between multiple different employers to carry out whatever duties they need to do. They have a more complicated backstory, but presently they were recently hired by recommendation of their friend Shark (played by @shmoots-universe who is also My friend now ily maya) who works with a group called the Court Cards who are currently in possession of the Crown of Thieves. Valk never really had a place to call home, but staying with this group of people had to be the closest they could get to that feeling. They still sleep with a knife under their pillow because of trust issue but that’s okay.

Okay, so technically these examples started in April, but I continued making content with them in May, and the month was just pretty void of art in general, so here I am addressing them.

There were two main things I worked on this month: a Steven Universe AU of my own and the whole #sixfanarts thing that kicked off around then. Let’s start with the fanart bits. I did two and a half of them (six in April and nine in May), and it was so much fun to be able to draw stuff I don’t normally do! My personal favorites are shown here: Blake Belladonna from RWBY, Roll from Megaman, Yuki Konno from Sword Art Online, and Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. The other thing I’d been planning for a while was a Steven Universe AU, probably to cope with the show being over but also because I was inspired by a lot of those SU AU artists I started following at the time. I won’t share the details here because it’s gonna have its own blog at some point, but the example I’ve shown here is of a comic I made loosely in order to introduce a divergence in the plot of the story as well as introduce a character unique to my AU. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to draw the characters and get a feel for the style.

As the year progressed, my amount of art I made per month began to dwindle, this time mostly because school was kicking my ass especially hard with finals. However, I took what time I had to get some backburner pieces finished, like the Tigerlily picture which I sketched out a couple months back, and the Gunvolt picture which I started working on SIX YEARS AGO. I don’t quite know why I got the urge to work on it again after so long, but it was nice to finally realize. The other drawing for DOTS was done in the dead of night but I was really happy with how it came out.

Despite only having two summer classes left of school, this month was really rough because they demanded a lot of my time and attention. I did not have the gumption to do anything digital, so I stuck to my sketchbook to get out what I felt like getting out.

My friends and I did a stream of the game Helltaker, and I really enjoyed the concept, so in following my friends I made my own Helltaker demon OC named Raksha the Ravenous Demon (it’s a pun but also got mythical insp). I also got super into Hazbin Hotel at this point, mostly because the Addict music video dropped and I couldn’t get enough of it, so I doodled Angel Dust cuz I felt like it. The other drawing I did was actually a free commission I gave a friend of mine as a prize for a trivia game show I ran back in June. He along with a couple other friends got some free drawings from me for getting the top three scores, and this one in particular was fun because of how interesting it was. He wanted me to draw a video game reviewer called the Irate Gamer from a specific moment, and I decided to go ham and just make it as dramatic as possible.

University classes finally wrapped up and right after that I was in the process of moving out of my apartment and getting adjusted to living with my parents again. I did a couple of agg.io drawing sessions with my friends from the Court Cards group as well as a new Dungeons and Dragons homebrew group I had joined. I drew some more of Valkyrie and came up with a design for my DND character Qakuqtuq (or Kai for short). He is monkey grandpa and I love him.

My main focus was on finishing a polished piece for my friend Cake, whose birthday was in the upcoming month. I wanted it to be as amazing as possible, so I put a lot of time into getting more detailed and making them look good. In addition to that, I did a few TOME doodles just for fun. The creature on the bottom was for this month’s art challenge on my Discord server where we made original TOMERPG monsters, and I created Hundylow, a Crystal-element monster based on the Grindylow from English folklore.

This month was a lot more productive than the past few had been. I tried to do a 31-day art challenge called Creatober but failed to get past the third prompt because I was still swamped with other work. I’m still happy with what little I did, including the piece with my characters Kyle and Guarudan from DSWD.

I don’t remember how, but I also suddenly rediscovered an old Flipnote Hatena series called Tales of LostClan, a Warriors fan series that I would say was the most obscure thing I’ve ever been super invested in. It was what got me into the actual Warriors books, and I liked it so much I redrew the animations into a comic... twice. Didn’t get nearly as far the second time but clearly my love for this little fanfiction had not waned after nearly a decade. I felt like drawing a book cover/movie poster for the series, just to get it out there and see how much I’ve improved over all that time.

Also I felt like making a vampiresona just before Halloween because I never dress up for Halloween in art (or real life anymore, for that matter), and I wanted to do something like that for once. It was short-lived but I really liked the design!

The focus of this month was definitely on Pokemon stuff. As per usual I contributed to the current Gotta Draw ‘Em All collab, and I was tasked to draw Regieleki. It was really fun to figure out how to make it stand out and look like it was made of electricity.

I also committed a lot of my spare time to my Fakemon Gym Leaders, as I had been working on bringing them to life in the past year or so now. As of this post, I’ve finished rendering their full body poses and gym badges, but I’m still working on completing all eight VS portraits, the first half of which are shown here.

I... didn’t draw anything this month, actually. What I’m showing here was worked on in the last few days but has actually been in progress for a couple of months, and I just finished it earlier today, in 2021. But I needed to show something off, and it’s also about time I mentioned it.

Back in October, I kept seeing people rave about this game called Genshin Impact, and I was interested but not so much as to start playing it... until my friends started playing and I was like “fuck it, let’s download it”. Since that day, I have been super immersed and in love with this game, to the point I came up with my own canon based on my gameplay experiences. This also included the creation of an original player character: Astra, the non-binary Traveller. And now, I’ve finally drawn them and brought them to life.

It has been one hell of a year. I had some of the highest highs and lowest lows in 2020, lots of changes, and I have now officially moved onto the next chapter of my life now that my time at university is finally over. I’m very excited for what 2021 has to offer, and I’m going to go forward with great ambition.

#my art stuff #art summary #this is always a joy to do every year and i'm glad to keep up the tradition for the sixth year in a row #this year was super good for this as well just to look back on what i was actually able to accomplish #long post #tome #hazbin hotel

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