a. a gentle soul with big dreams. tending to be melancholic, they can be sensitive and highly emotional, loosing themselves in their own imagination.
b. highly independent and ambitious, they have a clear idea of their goals and priorities in life. always analyzing their surroundings, they are very private, not sharing their deep inner emotions.
c. beams of sunlight, radiating positive energy. kind-hearted, they tend to put others’ needs before their own. the best friend one could hope for.
d. curiosity is their main drive in life. seeking to discover everything this world has to offer, their natural love of learning ignites a strong passion. you find them staying awake at night, fully consumed by their topic of interest.
e. full of ideas and creativity, they seek to make, to transform their thoughts into art and poetry, into beautiful phrases. prone to sometimes being anxious, especially around new people.
No matter how many times Levi woke up to Eren’s hard on pressed firmly between his ass cheeks, or seen him come out of the shower butt naked and smiling, or even woken up by his tender kisses and terrible morning breath, nothing could compare to the rare sight of Eren still asleep.
Contrary to popular belief, Eren was always the first one to be up and ready to tackle the day- already dressed and making breakfast before Levi could even get out a throaty good morning.
But it wasn’t always like that.
Before Levi had gathered the courage to confess his feelings to Eren, it was easy for him to be up and ready before the sun even rose. After being the captain for so many years, he was used to being burdened with endless stacks of paperwork and countless amounts of bloody flashbacks to keep him up and running for hours on end. He had no time to know what it felt like to have a good night’s sleep. It was a routine for him.
Until Eren stumbled into his life.
Eren was this unstoppable force barging into Levi’s life, this ball of energy who tore his way into his cold heart.
And he loved it.
Loved the sudden change in his unhealthy routine. How raw and unexpected Eren acted when they were out on missions or in his office discussing battle plans over paperwork and dinner. Loved how straightforward and courageous he was when it came to protecting him. How unexperienced and curious his heart of gold trained him into becoming the man he was today. How eleven years took their toll on his body and mended him into a man worthy of exchanging his status from cadet to Captain.
Levi was reluctant to retire at first, but after the shock of Erwin’s death and exterminating most of the titans, he felt it was time to retire at the age of thirty-four and relinquish his duty to Eren. It wasn’t until a year had passed of Eren becoming the Captain that he got down on one knee and finally proposed to him. Not like he was waiting or anything.
Levi watched as Eren stirred in his sleep, letting his eyes fall where the sunlight beamed down on the golden band safely secured around his ring finger and feeling his heart swell with happiness. He continued to watch as his husband rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his plump pillow as an exceptionally loud huff escaped from his lips and died into the fluffy cushion embedded with his pine scent.
The white comforter, which used to cover his body, fell from his broad shoulders and down to his bare ass, the tan flesh peeking out from underneath and sending a breathtaking jolt to Levi’s cock.
Ignoring his sudden hard on, he reached out and ran a curious finger along the dip of his lower back. Gliding them over his back dimples before following the curve of his spine while never taking his eyes off of Eren to make sure he didn’t wake up. Once his finger approached the divide between Eren’s shoulder blades and spine, he let his finger slide back down to where the comforter stopped and bit his lip.
Moving closer, he slowly climbed on top of his body and straddled his waist, careful not to wake him as he bent down and lavished Eren’s sunkissed skin in tender kisses.
They were still under the covers, so the comforter pooled around Levi’s lower back as he bent down and pressed his cold lips along the dip of Eren’s back, his calloused hands caressing his sides as he marked his way up to his shoulders. Leaving longer kisses in the curve of where his shoulders met his neck.
Eren hummed and slowly stirred awake, his head turning to the side as his sleepy amber eyes pried open and silently watched Levi shower him in kisses. “You really should consider shaving,” He quietly mumbled, startling Levi with his deep voice. “Your stubble is scratchy.”
Levi chuckled and smothered his face into his neck, making his stubble more noticeable as he rubbed his face into Eren’s sensitive skin. “Asshole.” Eren growled as he playfully flipped Levi onto his back, Levi laughing as he bounced beneath him, caged in by his muscular arms.
Levi smirked and reached forward, burying his hands into his long messy brown hair before reaching up and planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Good morning.” He whispered before Eren hummed and moved his right hand to caress the curve of his slender neck, gently rubbing his thumb over his sharp jawline before prying his mouth open.
Despite his morning breath, Levi let himself get pulled into Eren. Allowing Eren’s left hand to slither under his back and pull him to his chest, letting his flexible back arch into his burning touch. Tilting his head back to allow him more room, Eren went at scavenging his neck with playful kisses, leaving little nicks and pricks from his teeth every now and then in his pale skin.
“Good morning.” Eren spoke between kisses before puckering his lips against his neck and blowing hot air out, producing a loud obnoxious fart sound to be heard.
Levi squealed and pushed Eren’s face away from his neck, scrambling to get away from him while laughing the entire time. Eren chuckled and took hold of his waists, pining him down to the mattress before attacking his stomach. Levi burst out in a flurry of laughter and pushed his fingers through Eren’s hair, trying to get him to stop and away from his stomach.
“Eren- hahaha I swear…if you don’t stop that I’m gonna-!”
“Gonna what?” Eren mused, his eyes dangerous and mischievous as he paused his attacks on Levi’s sensitive and ticklish stomach and instead started to trail hot kisses down his abdomen.
Levi licked his lips. “I’m gonna…” His hands tightened in Eren’s hair. “…gonna…”
Every day he saw her waiting there at the bench. Sometimes she would be standing. Her sun dress flowing in the wind, as if the lace or fabric had been lighter than air, catching even the smallest breeze. Her hair dancing about her face. His eye sight was poor, but he could see her tangled hair dancing. He could smell the perfume of her shampoo carried in the wind as he approached her. Other times she would be huddled together on the bench as she sat. Her knees clenched closely as she held her heavy coat to her frame in the cold wind.
It was the same as when he first met her. The droplets of rain fell hard, each splash on the pavement demanded your hearing. V could hardly believe someone had been caught so off guard by the storm. Her hands went from wiping her ever-dampening hair to her arms, to her soaked cloth clinging to her frame. He remembered thinking how beautiful and natural she looked. How helpless. How, in that moment, he saw someone in need of his help, even if his sight was less than superb. Her bangs and hair clung to her face and she smiled to him. The smile that he had grown to look forward to for weeks to come.
“Please, share my umbrella?” he asked of her as he held it above her shivering frame.
It was the first thing he ever said to her. The first words ever spoken between them as they stood there at the bus stop. Her careful nod and slight smile pierced through him in that instant. Her gratitude. Had he ever been so thankful for his eyesight before?
In his mind he could remember every detail of her. Her face. Her makeup and the way the strands of hair clung messily to her face from the rain like thin vines on a beautiful sculpture. The sound of the droplets on the umbrella and the feel of wetness as the bottoms of his jeans began to soak water and creep up his shins. It didn’t matter, as long as she was dry and comfortable.
“Thank you,” she spoke in soft syllables through the heavy rain.
Her voice had been like a symphony to the backdrop of the rain pattering. Her smile the beams of sunlight in the clouds of rain. It was a gift to see her before him.
When the bus approached and she nodded in gratitude before entering, he felt a heaviness in his chest. Such grace and beauty lost to him now because he hadn’t the courage, nor the strength, to ask her for any more than she had already bestowed upon him. Only a warm smile and a slight giggle from her as he sheltered her from the rain.
The next day it was drizzling lightly as he approached the bench. His sight limited to the bus. And…as if a sign from above, he saw her looking back to him with that same sweet smile. It would insight the tightness in his chest once more. She recognized him? Even with his blurry vision he could never mistake her for another.
“Hello, V!” she would smile and exclaim every time.
Always the same cheerful greeting. It always elicited his heart to work overtime in his chest. He wanted to know more about her. Wanted her to know more about him.
“Call me Jihyun, remember,” he laughed and smiled.
“Oh! Of course, I’m so sorry,” she would laugh and cover her face in embarrassment.
He loved that about her. And without another thought his umbrella would be covering her and sheltering her from the spring rain.
“You don’t take the same route as I do, yet you’re always here at the same time,” she says casually, “why do you take the bus? Your clothes….ah! I’m sorry, is that rude?”
The way she gets flustered turns his cheeks red. He didn’t think he was dressed so richly? Maybe only compared to Jumin…
“It’s not rude,” he chuckled, “my eye sight…” he let his voice trail off.
“I know,” she replied.
Delicate fingertips pressed against his cheeks and shocked him more than he had anticipated. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his skin made his heart leap and his body feel warmth in the growing cold.
“Is that why you…ride public transport?” she had asked.
“Mostly, yes,” he found himself admitting.
It is true. He can still see alright, enough to get around daily life. But he can not drive. Public transport is his means of traveling. He doesn’t wish to be like his friend Jumin, spending money on personal drivers and cars. Figures from afar appear as blurs, but not her.
Perhaps it was the way she smelled. Or sounded.
He could hear her rustling and know it was her. Her delicate hands moving through her bag to find her chapstick. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. He could tell her apart from anyone else in the world. it would start off as if she had forgotten the thing completely. Frantic and manic were her hands in the pockets and crevices of her bag. Eventually, the all-too-familiar sigh would escape her when she found what she was looking for. Maybe others could not pick it up, but he could. He heard and watched her pop the cap from her chapstick in the summer and rub it against her full lips. She wasn’t aware of how bad his sight had been. But she was more aware than most.
Most good days, when he met her at the bench, they would talk about themselves. If she was carrying bags, she would explain what she purchased for him. Even if it was trivial, he found himself enthralled in her explanations.
“Shoes for the beach. You know my old ones always gave me trouble,” she laughed and he agreed since he had known as well, “and this new dress. I don’t know how well it will look. Maybe for a lunch with friends…”
She held the dress up to herself and he felt almost bad for imagining her in it. Perhaps on a moonlit night. She would be waiting as he approached from a street corner. She would be smiling, only for him, in that dress. He’d buy her dinner and wine. They would share her favorite dessert and she would tell him all about her day. He would listen intently. He cared. For a moment he had to remind himself of where he was.
“It’s a beautiful dress for you,” he remarked.
“Why, thank you,” she replied and stuffed the items back in her bag with red cheeks.
One day she was showing him what she had purchased, when she noticed how aloof he seemed, though he was trying his hardest not to show it.
“Your eyesight,” she spoke softly, “it’s getting worse…isn’t it…”
Why was he choking back his words? Was it the slight drizzling rain clouding his eyes, or his own tears as he held his umbrella over what he hoped was her frame. If he could do anything in this world, it was to keep her from being cold…and wet. Somehow, she knew. Just by the way he had acted, for he hadn’t said a word about how he was doing.
He felt a soft hand on his own free one. It was hers. Without thinking twice he smiled and let her lead him. He could even hear her smile in her voice.
“Sunglasses…not that I’ll be needing them anytime soon, don’t you agree? I feel like a fool for believing the weatherman,” she laughed and held her forehead against his own as she did so, while still guiding his hand around her bag.
Was she not put off by his ailment? It was one of the first times he could say he hadn’t felt like an outsider. Someone who needed to be asked to be accepted. She had grabbed his hand…
She had grabbed his hand…and from then on, she continued to do so.
Some days, he didn’t need it. Some days, the sun shone bright and still would be out-shined by her radiance. Her smile and aura as he approached the bench would radiate his core. Whether she was heading to work, meeting friends or shopping, she looked beautiful and full of hope to him. She filled him with her warmth even on the coldest of days.
It wasn’t since Rika that he had felt this way about another human being. And even thinking about her inner beauty, could he say he even felt this way about Rika? No. This person who had accepted him as who he was, even with his sight as it happened to be. This person who asked nothing from him other than conversation as they waited for the bus to take them to their destinations.
When he had fallen in love with her, who could say? But he was sure she felt the same way. Her subtle touches to his hands and arm when they met. The way she leaned in close to explain things to him.
“It is cold…but I do appreciate the rain,” she said one day to him after he had placed his jacket over her. “It gives life to the flowers around us, the plants…Life would cease to exist without the rain. I think we should appreciate it. Don’t you agree?” she asked him.
Of course he did. His hands held her shoulders tightly as he explained so. How badly he wanted to ask her to dinner in that moment. Maybe just to a cup of coffee. To ask her everything about herself. Did she garden? What was her favorite film? Did she enjoy music?
He could sense a lot about her just in the time they spent together. She was selfless. She only went shopping when it meant it was needed. If it was for meeting friends, or perhaps something she didn’t have before. He liked that about her. She was observant.
“The bus has been a little late…fourth time this week…I hope the driver isn’t feeling ill,” she had mentioned one day.
“What’s so funny?” she smiled and put her hand on his forearm playfully, “ I really am worried!”
“Only you would be worried about the driver when your ride is late…I just…find it charming,” he admitted to her.
When he was late, or struggling to make it to the bench, he found her at his side, helping carry his things and hold him steady.
One particularly rainy day, her bus arrived on schedule. It was the familiar slosh of the flowing gutters as it pulled close to the curb for her. The all-too-familar squeak of the door hinges as it swung opened for her. But she did not move. She did not enter. Her hand lay wrapped on his forearm, which held his umbrella sturdy to protect her the best he could from the elements.
“I’m not going in today,” she spoke coyly as the door shut and the sound of the bus driving down the road faded once again in the distance.
He couldn’t hold back his smile much longer. Her touch soothed him. Her delicate hands he had grown to fall in love with. And the sweetness in her voice like warm honey coating his soul.
“We can’t waste the day,” he found himself replying, “how about I take you to lunch…and then maybe dinner?”
“Nothing could make me happier, Jihyun,” she pulled her body in close to his as she spoke.
He could feel her steps in sync with his own. This wasn’t the first time he had taken her out. Not even the twentieth time…her feet and hands, her voice, her steps and the pitter patter they made next to his own feet…the way she walked was all too familiar.
Yes…this day was like many others he had come to share with her. And yet…he felt in his pocket, that hardness in the shape of a box. The velvet case with a ring inside.
It may have come to be a familiar day for them. But today, he would ask her to be his wife.
A/N: Okay, first, only read if you’re 18+! This is
NSFW! Secondly, yes this lightly describes a sug*r da*dy/s*gar b*by
relationship (I’m censoring this to keep it out of those tags). I just got
inspired. This does not reflect Tom in any way possible. It’s fiction. Lastly,
I decided to never mention Tom’s name in the story because I thought it would
add a mysterious tone. Other than that, enjoy.
Newt Scamander was an absolute work of art, and simply studying his features helped you relax, so you did. He sat at the polished oak table, his right leg shaking as he focused, his honey colored locks sprawled across his forehead. When he focused, these little crinkles appeared from the furrow of his eyebrows, and he would chew his lower lip whilst deep in thought. A golden beam of sunlight twinkled across his button nose, rosy cheeks, and brilliant blue-green eyes. He reached for his steaming mug of tea, letting the curls of steam crawl over his face before taking a careful sip. Then his lips twitched ever so noticeably, and you could make out the little dimples of his curious smile.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his head still bent into his leather notebook, his white feather quill tight in his hand.
You sat across the table from him, head in palm as you examined him, “because you’re very nice to stare at, Newt.”
This split his lips into a wide grin, and he gently set his quill down before giving his full attention to you. “I can’t focus when you’re devouring me with those eyes.”
You shrugged, giving a small grin, “you’re always staring at me, too.”
“Well, you see, with you - okay, but - you’re very, well-” New continuously tripped over his words as he fumbled to piece together his thoughts.
“Go on,” you encouraged, stretching your hand across the table.
Newt brought his eyes down, his hand coming up gently to rest in yours, his fingers intertwining with the most cautious ease. He strung his fingers between yours, his eyes looking over your hands for a good while.
“Newt, you’re doing it again,” you giggled, when he’d gotten distracted and removed his hand to draw patterns all over your palms.
“What? Oh, oh, yes, right,” he sighed, putting his hand back in yours. He looked back up, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Erm, well, you are the most fascinatingly charming girl I h-have ever had the pleasure of coming upon,” he began, his cheeks reddening at once. “So y-you see, when I study my creatures, I am always discovering more of their hidden wonders, as I am with you. Sometimes the sunlight will cross different crevices of your face, sometimes your eyes are darker than usual, sometimes a strand of hair falls loose, a-and sometimes you’re smile is so wonderfully mesmerizing that I must always…watch. I can’t miss a moment, you see, I have to study you until I know all you’re little quirks like the back of my hand.” Newts eyes had drifted onto a patch of table around halfway through, unable to hold your gaze.
You squeezed his hand really lightly to get his focus, “Newt.”
He released your hand and brought his own back down into his lap, shifting in his chair and looking very flustered when he looked back up at you.
“Newt, you’re too good to me,” you whispered, feeling ridiculous for wanting to cry.
“I’m just so lucky to have you, please know this,” he mumbled hurriedly.
You shook your head with a faint laugh, “what makes you think I have no reason to admire you?”
His jaw clenched a little, and you saw his face droop, “my love, there is nothing special to see.”
That physically pained you to hear.
“Newt!” you gasped, “Please, never say that again.”
He grew instantly worried, “Oh-I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I-”
“Shh,” you cut him off and stood up, heading around the table and taking a seat right beside him, turning your chair toward Newt. He half-heartedly turned to face you as well.
“Newt,” you smiled sadly, raising your palm up to graze his cheek. He twitched nervously under your touch, but you reassured him and rested your hand against his freckle dotted skin.
“Newt, you are the kindest and most amazing person ever, and I hate to see you doubting yourself like this. You are so special Newt, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do; as a sweet, loving, and most definitely heart stoppingly beautiful human being. Yes there are kind folks out there, yes there are gorgeous folks out there, but never have I found someone who is both as gorgeous and compassionate to the extent that you are, which is why I am so deeply in lo-”
You stopped short, realizing you had spoken too much and instantly freezing over. You had never exchanged the three magic words with Newt before, and suddenly it seemed nothing but terrifying.
Newts mouth opened, his skin warming beneath your fingertips, “What?”
“N-nothing,” you mumbled, dropping your hand nervously.
Newt grabbed your hand gently before it could fall, and took it in his own, bringing it right up to his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat rapidly quickening beneath the fabric of his soft clothes.
“Do you feel that?” he gulped.
You nodded shyly, “Yeah?”
“That, (Y/N), is what one who is madly in love feels,” he smiled nervously. “This here, i-is physical proof of how I feel when I’m with you, and how it feels to be head over heels for y-you, my darling.”
You felt your own heartbeat falter before quickening, and Newt asked, “Do you love me too?”
He had said it so quietly that you almost missed it. His lips quivered, his slender fingers trembling as his face sunk into a state of absolute sadness and worry. You couldn’t even speak at the sight, so instead you brought his hand up to your own chest, and lay it against your heart. Newt stretched his fingers slowly across your front, his palm taking in the rapid and intense thrum of your heartbeat.
“You tell me,” you breathed quietly.
He brought his eyes from your heart to your painfully nervous gaze. Once again, his lips twitched and broke into that familiar smile. The sun sent flares across his warm features and illuminated his overjoyed expression.
“I would very much like to kiss you right now, if you would allow me,” he proposed shyly.
You couldn’t help but laugh, your smile stretching wide as you gave him a nod.
Newt pulled a stray hair of yours affectionately behind your ear before tracing down to your jawline and resting his hand beneath your chin. He gave you one last look before tilting his head in with a flutter of his eyelids. Your eyes closed at the moment where your lips made contact. It was only for the briefest of moments, but was plenty enough for you to feel intoxicated by the taste you were given. He was soft and gentle with you, as if you were a fragile piece, and his lips were full, warm, and tasted of delightful sugar sweet joy. You could feel his hand quivering beneath your chin, but you pushed your lips in a little deeper to show you were at ease with him. You felt a rolling crystal droplet trickle down from his eyes and down onto your lips, but the taste of salt in the kiss was one that you knew was from tears of joy. Newt’s timid lips twitched upwards against yours, and he pulled back a second later, forgetting to breathe for a moment. He gulped down the lump in his throat and took a deep breath in whilst opening his bluish green eyes again.
“T-that was-” he stuttered.
“Wonderful,” you smiled and bent forward, dropping a light peck against Newt’s nose. You brought your own head down to Newt’s chest, and burrowed into the crevice of his neck, where you breathed in the scent of flowers and, possibly, niffler. He brought his hand up to hold your head, his free arm coming around your waist and giving you a squeeze. You smiled against his skin and let your eyes come to a close.
Newt sat quietly, formulating sentences but only coming up with one, “I’m just… so lucky to have you,” he whispered again.
Draco walked outside, wearing nothing but a thin shirt to keep out the cold december night. He vaguely realised in the back of his mind that being anywhere but his bed right now was a bad idea, with this amount of sleeping draught circulating through his veins. Who knew what would happen if he fell asleep in the snow.
Draco didn’t care, however. The fog in his head was only pierced by one thought: At least I want to see the stars one last time. One more moment under the stars before everything collapses.
Lying on his back, the cold soaked his clothes, his skin, his bones, his heart, his soul. Why was he still alive? Why had he survived where others didn’t? Why had they suffered for someone too afraid to live?
Grey eyes that felt like dying sought the sky, until they found what they were looking for; Regulus. Sirius’ brother had become a bit of a hero for Draco. He’d done what Draco couldn’t, had seen evil and fought it.
I’m so sorry, big guy. So sorry. Where you struggled, I thrived. Where you died, I survived. Where you chose wisely, I made grave mistakes. I can never right what I did wrong, never forget what I did nor move past it.
Steadily Draco’s breath slowed down, his chest barely moving amidst the winter landscape. Frozen eyelashes fluttered shut one last time, thin ice sheets taking shape, holding them closed until the morning sun would melt them with her powerful beams. They would bring life to this planet, to this village, to this place. But not to his body. Not anymore. Not if Draco had any say in it.
Soft lips, curly black hair, a blazing fire of hope behind emerald eyes. Beams of sunlight would not meet Draco’s eyelashes that morning. Instead, they met him.
“Good morning sunshine.” A worried smile on cracked lips, deep rings of fatigue accompanying a tired gaze, liquid relief dripping from whispered words of greeting. Harry.
A tidal wave of feelings hit Draco square in the chest, so much it physically hurt. He curled up like a ball, pulling Harry’s hand and then entire arm with him under the duvet of his hospital bed. The guilt that ate away at him from the inside had overwhelmed him again last night. He honestly preferred the cruciatus curse over this.
The desperation with which he clung to this man, his man, was just as painful for Harry to watch. Months it had taken him to coax the blond out of hiding, telling him it was okay, no one would have acted differently had they been in Draco’s position. Even the ministry had eventually agreed to this, and dropped all charges against him.
Draco could just never see it that way. Hadn’t he been a bully before? Hadn’t he helped Umbridge? Hadn’t he tried to scare Harry off his broom in third year?
Maybe he wasn’t a terrorist, but he was no nice person either. So many of his friends had been so much better, smarter, nicer, more deserving people than him. More deserving to be here. More deserving to live. More deserving to be loved.
Why can’t he see I shouldn’t be here? Why didn’t he leave me in that fire? Why won’t he just let me go?
At the same time Harry couldn’t let him go, and not just because Draco held his arm in a deadlock. If he could do this, if he could make Draco willing to live again, make him happy…
Harry’s childhood had been many things, but normal wasn’t one of them. This person, this man, had been the only normal thing in his life. His enemy in a non psycho-killer way, his sports rival, his first crush. He’d made himself belief that if he could act on this one normal thing, all would somehow be less traumatic. A way to get something positive out of the war. A way to stay sane amidst the madness.
“It’s alright love.” Harry kissed Draco’s forehead. “It’s okay. I found you. I will always find you when you’re hurting. Always come when reason fails you.”
“It’s not reason failing me, Potter.” Ouch, that hurt. He never called him Potter unless he was trying to get rid of the man who saved him. Saved them all.
“It’s you reason has failed. You who should leave, should have left me. You who should be happy. You who should be anywhere but here.” His voice was steered away from trembling with difficulty, but Harry knew it was broken. Broken like he would have been, had he not found the blond last night.
“Even if all of that is true, love, where else should I find happiness but here? With you?” Harry had no shame in letting his tears run free. Sometimes Draco would kiss them away. “I am happy only when I’m with you. I don’t keep you around for you. I keep you around for me.”
Now Draco knew his boyfriend was lying, Harry was way to selfless for that. He looked up to say just that, but was met with a kiss so hard, so desperate, so powerful, he was knocked back into this pillow. Harry moved and was soon on top of him. He knew damn well Draco could not handle this weight pressing on top of him, could not handle his guilt, his emotions, without Harry as a counterweight. As a reversed ocean, where you only drowned if your head broke the surface, and love was found at the bottom.
Draco sunk like a rock.
“I will not leave.” Harry whispered when they broke apart for breath.
“I will never not save you.” He said after a second kiss.
“I will be happy.” Brushing blond hairs away, pressing a kiss on his forehead.
“With you.” He forced the blond to look at him, holding Draco’s face in place with just a bit too much force.
“And I will never. Ever. Be anywhere but here.” Harry pressed his hand on Draco’s chest. On Draco’s heart.
Posted it again because I made some minor changes to the first part. Hope you like it…
I’m coming down with a bug so of course when I stopped moving and conjuring for a hot minute I started to panic about how “lazy” I was being by holding still and letting my mind and body take a much needed respite. I decided to gather up the fruit blossom honey spells that I’ve been working on and take a look at the reality of how “lazy” I’ve been for the past couple of weeks.
As witches/healers/rootworkers, it’s easy get caught up in the idea that when we get tired it’s coming out of “nowhere” and that we aren’t doing enough in our craft to push ourselves forward into a higher realm of magick.
We forget how much of ourselves we put into everything that we do. We forget how much energy being woke and tuned into the universe can take out of us. We forget how much we put out for others.
We forget to recharge ourselves. We forget to forgive ourselves.
Take a moment to breathe. Take some photos of what you’ve been doing just for yourself and catch that beautiful beam of sunlight or moonlight winking down from the universe to tell you that right now in this instant…you…..are….enough.
I kept them separate for a year, but tbh it works better to free range them? the cats don’t seem to stress them - I’ll walk into my room & find cats + buns snoozing together in a beam of sunlight. still, if I move somewhere with more space (think that’ll be in May) I plan on separating them again, just to be safe.
I haven’t shared my buns much on this blog bc I know this is a controversial arrangement.
You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, the bed sheets far too pristine and the frame far too grand for it to be your own. The rising sun poured in from the large window and invaded your eyes, immediately causing you to blink rapidly until your pupils finally adjusted to the overwhelming brightness. In your sleepy haze you propped yourself up with the large pillow stared dreamily at the blue sky outside.
Even the sky in New York seemed alien and different to the one you were so used to seeing back home. Perhaps it was the hue of blue that was slightly more saturated or the clouds that appeared to be just a little whisper, whatever it was, you weren’t sure if you liked it. No one liked change you supposed, even if it was only temporary. You couldn’t deny that you were starting to feel homesick. You hated feeling like an outsider and you longed for the familiar winding streets of your home city, the ones you could navigate with ease. Here you felt like a lost lamb, every step and every turn only brought you more confusion.
You looked over to the other side on the bed but saw that it was unoccupied, the side he’d slept on had even been made back up, the white linen sheets perfect and creaseless.
With a short sigh you dropped your head back down onto the mattress and longed for the feeling of his arms woven around your body. Yet when you’d given up all hope of your longing being fulfilled you heard the sound of the bathroom door swinging open and light footsteps making their way across the large hotel room. You smiled without even looking up.
“I was starting to think you’d never wake up, you’ve been sound asleep since about eleven last night,” the voice was calm, every syllable it spoke soothed you and you let out another sigh, this time one of contentment.
“Travelling is tiring,” you said softly, voice still laced with a drowsy quality as the final effects of sleep hadn’t worn off yet.
You heard him kneel down so that he was at eye level with the bed, his hand crept across the mattress until it found it’s way to your own hand. Finally, you turned to your side to face him.
Jimin was made of soft black hair and warm brown eyes, the kind of eyes that sparkled with a certain youthfulness, there was no bitterness in them, only love and gentleness. His smile was like the sun on a hot summer’s day, and yet you often felt you weren’t worthy of that pleasant warmth. Though you tried not to let those sorts of thoughts bother you anymore, they still nagged at you, demanding to be paid attention to.
He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, the outfit was simple and modest yet he still managed to take your breath away, you couldn’t stop your eyes from scanning over every inch of his body.
“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked quietly, you. You paused to consider your answer for a few moments. You had bought a few travel guides in an attempt to be organised but typically, you’d left them at home.
“I think I’ll just wander around and see where I end up,” you concluded out loud. He bit his lip a little anxiously but eventually nodded.
“Just be careful okay? With your sense of direction, God knows where you could end up,” he teased, you laughed gently and shuffled so that you were closer to him, the duvet wrapping itself even more tightly around your body.
“Do you have to go?” you dared to ask after a few moments, breaking the period of blissful silence.
He squeezed your hand gently and smiled sorrowfully, “You know I have to, if I had it my way I wouldn’t have to work and I’d spend all my time with you but- it just didn’t work out like that. I’m sorry.”
A beam of sunlight illuminated his skin, it’s radiance now so dazzling you swore he was almost iridescent, he sparkled with the brilliance of every colour under the sun. Perhaps that was what often made you so anxious, he didn’t feel like reality sometimes. One day you might just blink and he will have vanished, you feared that soon he would see you for who you really are, he might see through the cracks of your happy facade. He’d leave if he had any sense. And just like that, he’d be gone. Just like that, the dream would be shattered.
“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him, he leaned down and pressed a light, airy kiss against the skin of your cheek, one that made you blush in a ridiculously childish way. You weren’t used to the way he treated you, there was no way to describe it other than he was just so nice to you. It scared you when people were nice to you, because one day you knew they’d stop. They always did.
Request: “Hi-Hi! I’ve read your newt x reader stuff and they are so nicely done, I like your style! Could I request for angsty newt x reader, pure angst. Sadness and all that. If you don’t mind of course! Something like ‘reader likes newt but newt is stupidly oblivious and he still hanging on leta/is with tina most of the day. At the end, the reader just 'poof’, out of touch. Thank you!”
Word Count: 2,643
Pairing: Newt x Reader
Requested by Anonymous
Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in
The midnight blue dress draped over your body shatters the beams of golden sunlight streaming through your window, sending specks of glittering light all over the white walls of your bedroom and the pastel green sheets of your bed. You hardly notice, though, as you struggle to clasp a delicate silver necklace around your neck. The fine chain, soft as gossamer, tangles around your fingers, fighting your attempts to secure it. The struggle proceeds for a minute before you can drop the chain and watch it shimmy into its place in the dip between your collar bones. A beautiful gift from an old friend.
An old friend you’re visiting in five minutes, if the godfather clock standing in the corner is correct. A bundle of nerves flutter in your stomach. You haven’t seen Newt in months. Any time you wrote and told him you’d be able to make time, he’d been too busy. Then NEWT exams rolled around and every spare second of every day was dedicated to scrawling out notes and rereading the same chapter five times until you could nearly recite the entire textbook word for word. The grueling effort paid off, though, earning you high grades in every subject.
Today, you celebrate with your best friend of seven years. The two of you agreed to meet at your house at noon before traveling out to Hogsmeade to enjoy butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and then find a dancing hall. You know Newt has a fondness for dancing unmatched by many others, even if he may be reluctant to admit it.
One more glance in the mirror satisfies you. Not a hair is out of place, your elegant silver earrings brush the tops of your exposed shoulders, and the dress gleams, not a hint of lint on it. You step from the mirror’s gaze and cross the room, enjoying the clacking of your heels against the wood floor. On your dresser sits an ornate black box. Swirls carved and painted white loop around the wide case, meeting on the top to circle around Newt’s full name.
I wonder if Harry has artsy nude photoshoots with his own camera, the photoshoot includes him in a candlelit bath and foam all over his crotch, him in bed with a white sheet covering his lower body and the sunlight beaming through his window, him in a dimly lit room with a towel draped across his shoulders and a pair of silk pants with the outline of his cock showing………….
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When I woke up, I could feel his breath hot and heavy on the
back of my neck; his arms were tightly secured around my waist. My back was
pressed to his toned chest; his left thigh was trapped between my own. He was
snoring lightly. There was a little light coming through the crack in the
curtain. I guessed that it was still pretty early morning.
I rolled over in his arms to face him. There was a beam of
light illuminating his face. His eyes were closed, eyelashes fanned across his
cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, but there was a trace of a smile there.
I petted my knuckles down his jaw line before leaning forward and pressing a
light kiss to his soft, pink lips. He stirred in his sleep and his eyes
fluttered open slowly. I kissed the corner of his mouth and leaned back again.
When I opened my eyes he was regarding me thoughtfully, a sleepy smile spread slowly
across his lips. I grinned and nuzzled my nose against his.
“G’morning,” he greeted, his morning voice deep and raspy,
vibrating the air around my mouth.
“Sleep well, love,” he asked. I nodded my head.
“Mhmm,” I purred, “How about you,” I whispered as I traced
his plump lips with my fingertip.
“Much better now that I’m here with you,” he replied
quietly. I looked into his bright green eyes as I smiled again and he smiled
back at me. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and pressed my
lips to his. The hand on my waist pulled me flush with him. I was wearing a
t-shirt and panties but he was fully naked as per usual. I placed my palm on
his bare chest as he closed his mouth around my bottom lip, gently sucking
before releasing it.
I felt his cock stir against my leg as his hand made its way
up my shirt; his fingertips gently ghosting up my stomach. My tongue flicked
out and licked at his bottom lip before pressing my mouth back on his. He
rolled over on top of me and I welcomed the weight of him, having been too long
since I had last felt it.
it’s the worst when you have this scene in your head and you can visualise it perfectly, can see it playing out like it’s on a television screen in your mind, but you’ll be damned if you can actually figure out how to write the damn thing down