#instruction SUCKED and i didn’t blame them for hating it and we had to make them use it so often even though there were ways to just click

[amongthezinnias]

Omg I dreamed about teaching again last night i just remembered

It was beautiful too i had a class size of like 15 & i think in the dream i had looped up with my kids so we were starting a new year together & we were reestablishing the routine

I had a different room though it was kinda like dead poets society-esque with hardwood floors and i kinda dug it

I miss teaching a lot sometimes :/ I hope all the students I had are doing as well as they can be

[thelonelyarchon]

📮RETURN TO SENDER ᯓᡣ𐭩

004 - rejected

Note: written text up ahead after divider

ONCE you turned the knob of the door that leads you to the living room, you half-expected to deal with the questions your other friends had for you. Locking yourself in the bathroom for five hours is not normal per se, but it was much needed for your sanity.

You’re surprised by the lack of your other friends’ presence. To give you and Kaveh some space to reconcile, they’ve stealthily hidden themselves behind a large china cabinet. You noticed them either way. If Kaveh noticed their presence too, he didn’t make it obvious that he did.

Kaveh stood in the middle of the room with a tight-lipped expression and guilty eyes that one would think he did something more horrible than just sending out a letter that wasn’t supposed to be sent. You narrowed your eyes at him. He winces.

Proud as you were, you knew Kaveh didn’t do anything wrong. He had only followed the instruction you have given him in the first place. Maybe your stubbornness looked for excuses to rationalize your own fault so Kaveh who had done the unthinkable got your rage.

When you see his guilty state, you sighed and walked towards.

“Ten minutes. Let’s talk this out.” You said in a weak voice.

Kaveh looked like a wilted flower. At the sound of your voice, he perks up just fine. He had been blaming himself for being reckless. As anyone who knew him would comment on that particular trait. He didn’t want you to hate him for this.

“Hey, I’m sorry, [name.]” He starts. You shake your head.

“What do you mean? I should be the one saying sorry. Between the two of us, it was my fault.”

“I mailed the letter.”

“I told you to mail them, though. You didn’t know which one is which so it was my fault,” you walked closer to him. “For that… I’m sorry. Don’t work yourself up too much.”

In an attempt to console him of the guilt he has, you pat his shoulder and give him a smile. He hesitantly smiled back.

“Also, if you think I’m mad because you were the one who sent the letter, you’re wrong. I’m mad at myself.” You laugh.

“So, this is settled now? Are we friends again?” Kaveh asked.

“It depends on the contents of that letter.” You used your lips to point at the letter on his hand, hanging at his side. He looks at it and raises it.

“It’s from Alhaitham.”

“I know.”

“You may not like the contents.”

“I know.”

“You still want to read it?” He confirms for the third time. You grab it from his hand and nods. Kaveh sucks in a sharp breath and waits.

You opened the letter and scanned the contents of the letter. The more you read the letter, the more your vision began to blur and the whirlwind of emotions began to suffocate you. You feel your heart breaking with each line coming from Alhaitham. You already expected this kind of reply. But it still hurt deep inside. To stop you from reading it, Kaveh covers your vision of the letter with his hand.

“That’s enough,” he said softly.

“I guess we’re not friends anymore, Kaveh.” You laugh jokingly through streams of tears. “I need a moment.”

“S-sure.” He watches you as you walk towards the other end of your dorm. You weakly throw Alhaitham’s letter away before sitting out on the small hanging balcony. Out of curiosity, Kaveh walked towards the bin and reads your letter. He notices the original letter he sent to Alhaitham.

Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you in good health. To begin with, I did not expect to receive such a letter on such short notice. I have read the contents of your letter thoroughly, and I have contemplated what to write back to you in correspondence.

I must admit I am flustered by your words of praises, Ms. [Name]. However, I would like to apologize for being a bearer of bad news.

Though I appreciate your enthusiasm and 'profound love for me,' I regret to inform you that I cannot return those feelings.

My feelings are reserved only for the one who makes my heart beat with fervor. I’m afraid someone already has the right to those feelings.

Enclosed with this reply is your letter. It may be best for me to return it to you. If we ever pass by each other or whether or not you approach me some other time, I shall treat you as though I know nothing so we may start anew.

I hope I didn’t ruin this day any further for you. For all that it’s worth, happy valentine’s day. Have a nice day.

Sincerely,

Alhaitham

Kaveh sighs and reaches the letter on the trash bin. He didn’t know what to do with it but something in him is saying that this will be needed someday. Maybe he’ll keep it safe until then. Maybe [Name] will need it someday.

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TAGLIST: @makimakimi @yura-4life

[hellogoodbye14]

All Things Bickering and Chaos… What’s New? - Feysand Parents (Small One Shot)

✨ Before I release an angsty fic, I thought some fluff was in order. Hope you guys like it!

“Mom, come on! Please. I swear I’ll be fine during the next test.”

Feyre wanted to groan, Cauldron she loved her kids but they sure could test her patience at times.

After Nyx, they waited another 45 years before deciding to have another child. The Cauldron blessed them with twins, a boy and a girl. Both twins had Feyre’s hair but a touch darker, making them chestnut. Zaryn had Feyre’s blue eyes whereas Elara had her fathers violet night sky eyes.

The twins were extremely close to Nyx who was going to leave Illyrian training early this month for their birthday.

“Mom….Did you hear me?”, Elara complained again.

“Elara, use your inner voice and I already said no. You have to study before your next test which means you cannot go out with your friends.”

“But-“

“No buts.”

Elara turned towards Rhys with her special puppy dog eyes. The High Lord of the Night Court was terrified of that look because he knew it was next to impossible for him to say no. He cast a worried and helpless look towards Feyre.

“And no, do not look at your father for permission. It won’t work.”

Elara frowned and Rhys wanted to laugh because his daughter and his mate had the same exact expressions when they were mad.

Unlike Rhys, Zaryn did snicker from his seat opposite his father.

“Pay attention, Zaryn”, instructed Rhys.

Zaryn obediently went back to fixing the school project Rhys was helping him with.

But Elara had heard him, and by god she would not let it go. Feyre already knew her teen kids better than that.

“Yeah and why don’t you stick a fork in your eye while you’re at it.”

Rhys did groan. Here we go again.

“I might have to now that I’ve seen your ugly face.”

“Children”, warned Rhys.

Amren had warned them that having fae children close in age was always a debacle because they would not get along until they were late teens. Feyre thought it was a joke… safe to say it was not. Zaryn and Elara loved each other fiercely and were the first to stand when the other needed help and protection but Cauldron it was like they couldn’t help but needle the other once a while.

“Ugly face? Seriously thats the best you can come up with? I’m so glad I put vinegar in your soda now.”

“Whatever Fatty.”

Staggering back a step, Elara gasped in horror, hand flying to her chest. “You take that back!”

“Why? You gonna eat that too?”

“Satans child!”

“I will puncture your lung.”

“Enough!”, Feyre and Rhys bellowed.

“You always take his side!”, whined Elara to Feyre.

Simultaneously Zaryn complained to Rhys, “You always take her side!”

“No one is taking sides, you’re both being idiots.” , said Rhys as he tempered a bit with the volcano stimulation. Apparently there was something jamming the trigger.

“But it was Zaryn’s fault. He was pissing me off.”

“By doing what?”, sighed Feyre.

Elara looked straight at Feyre and shurgged, “Existing.”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose and felt Rhys trying to control his laughter from the bond.

“Now, thats not nice Elara. Apologise to your brother”, said Rhys who had managed not to let his amusement show.

“Sorry”, murmured Elara.

Zaryn cocked his head to the side just like Rhys did when he was confused. Elara didn’t let up that easy.

And she didn’t, because five minutes later when Zaryn was carrying out his final test on his project alongside Rhys…. the volcano exploded with yellow glitter and slime.

Zaryn hated the colour yellow. Rhys and Zaryn immediately glared at Elara, who raised her hands in innocence.

“It wasn’t me!”

Now it would be wrong to point the finger to Elara and blame her for the utter mess in Rhys’s office but just then a small banner had popped out of the volcano top saying,

You suck dipshit! - Love Elara The Supreme.

“Okay, it was me. At least I’m being honest.”

At that moment, Nyx had just winnowed into his fathers office and laughed himself hoarse at the sight. Feyre couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh dad! Yellow is so your colour”, said a snickering Nyx.

Rhys simply sent a flying yellow glittery slob towards his eldest son.

“Oh come on! This was a new suit”, whined Nyx as he kissed his mother on the cheek.

Elara laughed nervously under Rhys’s glare.

“Well I didn’t know you were going to be helping him! You were collateral damage Dad.”

When Rhys didn’t respond Elara simply nodded, “Grounded a week?”

“Make it two, love.”

Elara sighed in resignation.

[dandelionflower]

I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Five)

Word Count- 3921

Morning had come around a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, the sunlight peeking through the curtains and birds singing outside making drifting back off an impossible task. Though you felt well rested, you simply just didn't want to move anywhere any time soon. Last night had begun with Mycroft shyly placing his hand on your hip as your back pressed close to his chest, but this morning had ended with Mycroft on his back and you with your head resting between his chest and shoulder, hand crossing over with fingers hooked over the pyjama's pocket. You'd never expected to be the type to wake up earlier than Mycroft Holmes, particularly not two days on the bounce, but you wouldn't complain. He looked so peaceful as he slept, the sunlight turning his auburn hair far more ginger, his freckles on his nose matching. You slowly reached one arm backwards, blindly feeling around for your phone on the bedside table and reading through your messages. You grinned seeing a text from Greg and had to fight the small laugh that threatened to escape you.

'Hey, just thought I'd check in on you both and see how you're getting on. I hate to feel pushy but we do really need to start that paperwork, today ideally. Figured I'd pop round later if it's alright- I need a sodding nap first though. Spent the majority of last night receiving phone calls about mysterious activity around St James', load of dodgy cars sending people away, loads of papers.. don't suppose you saw any of that down your way did you, makes life easier?"

Your fingers typed a response- 'Uhh..guilty as charged.. Myc was in jeans and a Who top, daren't be seen by the public..I'll get him to fix it when he's up x'- a grin playing on your face. Yeah okay you felt a little bad, but Greg had dealt with worse. After pressing send, you scrolled further through your notifications, spotting one from John. Nothing major, just checking in and inviting you both over for late lunch, mentioning briefly how it'll do Sherlock some good seeing his brother, even if he doesn't believe it himself- evidently also receiving a message from Greg as he also explained how it would make Lestrade have to do one less visit for paperwork if you popped over a little earlier. Before you could type an answer, you felt Mycroft shift beneath you, stretching out the arm that wasn't trapped beneath your body.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty." You teased, turning your head and placing a small kiss on the Holmes' chin. Mycroft blinked, rubbing his eyes and offering you a 'good morning' in response as he eyed up you typing on your phone.

"Needed to be whisked away to catch a criminal mastermind already?" He asked, sitting up a little as you moved to give him a little more space, his arm still loosely tucked behind your back, though his torso now free.

"Your deductions in the morning are lacking.. though close. Mastermind, but not criminal. John and Sherlock have invited us to late lunch, Greg's popping over to start the first part of paperwork handling, only the basic stuff this time round, so figured it would make it easier on him only having to go to one home before we left." Mycroft breathed deeply, fingers raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'd have rathered the criminal." He spoke, already mentally planning the afternoon, the conversations he would likely have, the way Sherlock would behave. What if he still hadn't forgiven him? It was surprising enough that you had let him off so easily, but Sherlock was different. Sherlock was a Holmes, and someone of whom already had feudal tendencies with Mycroft, it was bound to end terribly. As though you had read his mind, you moved your hand to take his from his face as you noticed his fingertips whitening as he pinched harder.

"Hey, it'll be fine. He doesn't blame you, he's been far too silent for that to be the case. From the way John sounded, it actually seemed more like he was worried about you, though you know he'd never admit that." Mycroft hummed in response, not being able to find the right words to say before reaching over and grabbing his own mobile. "World ending yet?"

"Not yet. Though with any luck, quarrels could happen before lunch." He mused, one side of his mouth raising slightly in a playful smirk.

"Mycroft you can't wish for conflicts amongst empires to get out of a meal with your brother."

"Can't I?" He raised a brow.

"Anthea wouldn't allow it anyway. We're on strict instruction to not go into work for the next couple of weeks, nations be damned. Lunch sounds far more appealing too." You slid yourself out of bed and grabbed one of the bags from Anthea that you brought upstairs last night, taking a handful of clothing items and tucking them under your arm.

"But it isn't lunch, is it? It's LATE Lunch, settled approximately around 3pm, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. It's impractical by any means; you starve yourself at real lunch so you do not ruin your appetite, and then by dinner time you're hungry once again. And if you eat at both of those times as well as the late lunch, your feeding schedules become on par with a bloody Hobbit." You rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom. "Though you may be more accustomed to such choices given the height similarity between yourself and Mr Brandybuck."

"Cheeky sod, not all of us have glorious Holmesian legs. I'm sure you'll survive a few hours.. Oh, you also owe Greg an apology." You chuckled, opening the message back up and tossing your phone in the general direction of Mycroft's lap before going to get dressed. After reading the message, you heard Mycroft let out a laugh from the other room, the rare kind that you knew made the sides of his eyes crease and his head tip back slightly in amusement; you were sorry you missed it.

Leaving the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the silk pyjama clad man standing mindlessly in front of his open wardrobe, glancing over each individual item of clothing. Wandering behind him, you moved up on your tiptoes and peered over his shoulder at the rows of suits. You were still dressed relatively comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, which you felt was appropriate for the later meal that would likely be somewhere like Angelo's- but you equally knew that Mycroft's idea of 'comfort' lay within his three pieces, pocket squares and oxfords.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to begrudge you of your precious suits today. You deserve it after actually going through with my wardrobe choice for you.. I didn't actually expect you to do it." You laughed, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "We slept in late again, there's barely any morning left." You commented, glancing over at the clock that read 10:53am. "Can I tempt you in Elevenses, Mr Baggins?" You grinned, your Lord of the Rings reference not being missed by Mycroft. He cast you a playful glare, fighting the urge to childishly poke his two fingers up at you. "What? Not judging my bedside manner this time?"

"It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it solves nothing." He quoted Frodo without hesitation, bastard probably already planned that you'd quip back with something smart and already armed himself with Shire related comebacks. You, in contrast to Mycroft, did have the tendencies to become childish and did opt for the two fingered response, an adoring smile unnaturally paired.

Not many people got to know of Mycroft's little nerdy side, and you took pride in being one of the few that did, though you took more pride in him for being able to easily reel off the quotes. Though he had told you before that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had been his favourite of everything you made him watch, then when he read the books? You wouldn't hear from him for hours at a time while he binge read through them for the tenth time round, and of course you had noticed the varying editions of the three books on his bookshelf in his personal office, rather than lining the shelves in his small library room. If anything, it just made him more endearing.

Though it was nothing compared with his love of Doctor Who. Bless his heart, you had taken him to watch David Tennant's Richard II a few years ago for his birthday and he was insistent on waiting behind after the performance to catch David leaving and got him to sign his special edition box set of his DW seasons. He even had a photo taken with him, his expression being easily comparable to the likes of a child who just got a puppy for Christmas- and, much to his dismay, the photograph had had a prime place on your desk at NSY since the event.

You made your way downstairs, calling out something about making omelettes and leaving Mycroft alone to get ready. His fingers skimmed across the expensive fabrics, tugging out an olive green suit and red tie and pocket square to match. The smell of the food you were preparing began to fill his nose, making his stomach growl as he rushed to the bathroom to get dressed. After removing his pyjama top, Mycroft caught a glance of himself in the mirror, prodding at the pudge of his stomach that settled just over his pyjama bottoms, before sucking in flat and looking again. Maybe he should forego the omelette and just wait until later.. another growl.. okay maybe just a little, just so he didn't raise suspicion. He sighed, stomach relaxing back to its natural state before finishing his morning routine, tugging his trousers up a little higher than usual to tuck away the offending belly fat.

Mycroft had always suffered with his weight, he knew that. He also knew of his past, how he would skip meals, or spend hours upon hours on his treadmill, or the time he was under Doctor Chinnery for just shy of three years following his habits of completing his meals with his fingers down the back of his throat over the toilet just after his job promotions exceeded and he found himself in much higher rankings- public appearance being far more important than any personal preference. Though his eating disorder had improved, the years of therapy didn't miraculously improve his self-confidence. It was one of the many reasons he preferred inviting others for dinners, or at the very least having his days to himself when he knew he would be going out later in the evening. Spontaneous meals out like the one he would be attending in a few hours, or having somebody at home with him while he waited for said meals threw him off balance completely- his usual routine of fasting beforehand as to not appear rude or raise suspicions when he ate in public being disturbed significantly. You knew of his past, deduced it, actually, and had been nothing but supportive, trying your best to convince him for years that he was perfectly healthy and encouraging him to eat better, to actually consume meals. He was thankful, of course he was, but it didn't help his insecurities around you, no matter how welcoming you had been or however many compliments you gave him. His body was covered in stretch marks and areas of loose skin from his weight loss over the years, his chest hair, though scarce, was a coppery ginger and his body was covered in so many freckles he looked like an explosion at a dot to dot factory. It led him to remember the other reason why he had never previously attempted to pursue a relationship with you; if he was disgusted and horrified at the appearance of his nude body then what on earth would you think when that time eventually came around? He daren't even try to imagine your face. You'd worked with Sherlock long enough to have seen him wander around naked and Mycroft had to admit that his brother at least had a body worth parading about in the nude, then there was Gregory who, despite not having an exactly chiseled body, still had the rugged good looks and toned chest- a physique that clearly represented the physical aspects of his occupation- there was no doubt you'd compare him to them and he would come up short every time.

"Myc? You gonna be long? Yours is going to be freezing!" Your voice had knocked him out of his thoughts and he quickly shrugged on the rest of his clothes, straightening his tie in the mirror and plastering on a small smile as he headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Apologies.. the cufflinks failed in succession to cooperate at first." You had eyed him suspiciously, knowing that Mycroft had worn enough suits in his lifetime that he could probably find a way to put one on to completion in 5 minutes in the dark with oven mitts on.

"I know I've been so against the suits, but I have to admit that you look incredible.. I think that one's my new favourite." You commented casually, placing a quick kiss to his temple as he sat at the table. "That colour is lovely." He quirked a brow.

"New favourite? You've had old ones?"

"Obviously." Imitating Sherlock. "Charcoal pinstripe with that light blue shirt- brings your eyes out wonderfully... and your bum." You winked, positively enjoying the pink that dusted the man's cheeks, and the way he would open his mouth to speak and then close it before any words came out. In his defence, he was really not used to receiving such compliments. And in your defence, you weren't particularly used to giving them, not like that anyway. You'd blame Greg, he was a terrible influence and an incredible flirt- using his charm to at the very least try and make you laugh when you had shitty days.

You lay his plate in front of him, a coffee to its side, before beginning to tuck into your own meal. You had learned early on that if you didn't wait until Mycroft was able to eat then he likely wouldn't eat at all. While drinking his coffee fairly happily, you hadn't missed that the vast majority of Mycroft's breakfast was still on the plate, cut in smaller pieces and rearranged to appear as though he had eaten more than he truly had. Frowning, you didn't press- knowing better than to point out his behaviour and just being thankful he had eaten anything at all (about a third of the omelette and half a slice of toast if your judgements were correct) but had elected to keep an eye on him. You finished your own food in silence before crossing the cutlery over on your plate and beginning to speak.

"I figured if we left now we could have a bit of time for you to go through the first set of paperwork, Greg should be getting there in the next 10 minutes or so, and then by the time we finish and have a cup of tea it'll be time to go out." You suggested, taking Mycroft's plate to clear away after he had sent a nod to show he was finished. He made a small groan at the need to go at all, but soon acquiesced, sent a text for a car and stood to go to the front door. Tugging on a hoodie, you opened the door and took a step back, the wind shooting in your face and making you scowl. Mycroft made an amused sound and offered you the scarf of his that you had worn last night. Rather than taking the garment, you stood and waited for him to wrap it the same expert way that he had the night before. "I also text Greg to run by my flat and grab my coat so I'll be able to stop stealing your expensive scarves soon.. though this one feels so lovely I may text him again to leave it on the tube." You laughed, stepping back outside once again and walking with Mycroft to the end of the road where a car was waiting. Mycroft had wanted to respond, to make a comment about how he didn't mind letting you wear his things, how he actually quite liked it. But he stayed silent, offering a small smile instead and a soft hand at the small of your back. Mycroft opened the door for you, climbing in after and settling against the plush seats of the lavish car.

As the car began to move you tensed a little, a thought popping into your head.

"Myc.. does Sherlock know yet? About us? I might have hinted at it a little when I spoke to Lestrade earlier but I didn't press.. I just.. I didn't know if you were telling people." You asked awkwardly. Christ it made it sound like you were in some forbidden relationship. Mycroft's jaw clenched a little.

"I wasn't aware it was secret knowledge, if that's what you are asking Y/N. In response to your question, no. I haven't spoken to Sherlock at all since.." He trailed. "And I am not the sort of man to walk into a room and actively announce that kind of thing. But you should know that he will likely deduce it the moment we walk through the door being as you are wearing my clothing, your hair smells like my shampoo and your skin still has traces of the scent of my soap. So if you didn't want anybody to know, then I strongly suggest we rearrange our plans for this afternoon." Who was he kidding? Of course you didn't want people to know that you were actually together now- you would look ridiculous being such a pretty young woman with a man like Mycroft in tow. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "If you are going to say you could argue the soaps then it would simply be futile, he knows I have your regular brand at your disposal; he'd know you used mine in the form of... sentiment." The last word felt wrong on his tongue now, knowing you had hoped to keep your.. relationship.. behind closed doors. Mycroft Holmes was a very private man, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want knowledge of your relationship to be at least semi-public, having felt a little giddy when you'd chosen to cross that line with him.

"What? No, I wasn't going to talk about the sodding shampoo." You grinned, reaching a hand over to place on his knee. "Jesus Myc, I asked because I didn't know if YOU were comfortable with people knowing. I'm pretty sure everyone inside that flat knew I fancied you the last few years, I'd proudly walk in and show that my pining eventually paid off. I just know you have appearances to keep up and I didn't want to ruin that, or embarrass you in front of Sherlock." For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, your words surprised Mycroft. He felt his jaw loosen and he took a breath, moving only to briefly place his hand over yours for a small squeeze and moving back again. You didn't expect him to say much, he was Mycroft Holmes, not Romeo Montague, but the small smile you sent back his way let him know that you understood his thoughts. The drive to Baker Street was only 10 or so minutes from Mycroft's home so you soon arrived in no time at all, the slick black car smoothly pulling up outside number 221.

"I can only hope my dear brother deduces our relationship correctly and doesn't make a vast attempt to embarrass me in front of his peers.. again." Mycroft knocked on the door, his words casting you back to a Christmas you had all shared a couple years ago.

It was a small gathering, consisting of the pair of you, the Baker Street boys, Greg and Mrs Hudson, and a few weeks beforehand, after multiple arguments of whether or not presents should be shared, Mrs Hudson had come up with the wonderful (terrible) idea of secret Santa which, incase you wasn't aware, isn't a fun game when played with two Holmes' that knew everybody's present and Secret Santa before the packages were opened. You had pulled Mrs Hudson and couldn't have been more thrilled, neither could she when she opened her new tea set- a simple floral design decorated its sides, but she was thankful no matter the pattern, the last teapot having been found at the hands of Sherlock housing human eyes. Conveniently enough, Mycroft had pulled your name and elected to subtly buy you a personalised travel mug for work. After you had opened it, Sherlock had scoffed, muttering something along the lines of "Mycroft isn't that shit at buying presents. He bought you a necklace at first but felt too embarrassed to give it to you in such a public setting and panic bought that cup." Continuing on about how Mycroft had put a lot of thought into your original gift and how it was unusual and how it "obviously" meant he favoured you and was attracted to you. Mycroft had left shortly after that, not making eye contact with any of the silent people in the room and climbed into the back of his car, but you had followed suit and clambered in after him- easing the tension by ignoring Sherlock's allegations and giving him the envelope that you had in your pocket. You had told him you had bought him something special anyway, even though he wasn't who you were supposed to buy for, because you cared for and appreciated him- he had opened the envelope slowly and his eyes widened, that rare smile appearing on his face when he was presented with the Richard II tickets. After your exchange Mycroft had given you the necklace anyway, spouting derogatives about his brother's deductions as he did so. It was a small silver chain necklace with a sparkling silver pendant that, upon closer inspection, you had noticed was a police badge.

You smiled fondly at the memory and instinctively placed your hand above your sternum, feeling the small piece of metal beneath your clothing that you hadn't taken off in two years. You turned to face the man beside you a little more, placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching up on your tiptoes to place a lingering kiss on his lips, moving back only when you heard the latch unlock in front of you, and noticing the ever so slight pink tinge to Mycroft's bottom lip from the lip balm you had put on earlier. "That should make it easier to get it right." You commented, fighting the small grin from your face as you noticed Mycroft standing in the same way, lips parted slightly from where your own had been moments ago, a matching pink dusting his cheekbones. The door opened revealing a smug looking Sherlock.

"Be careful Mycroft, you'll catch flies like that if you aren't cautious enough."

[anayaahwrites]

KOT ficlet #6 (Kudou Chika/Houzuki Satowa)

(Events based after the most recent update that had me screaming into oblivion.)

Needle in a thread

His first thought is, not them.

He recalls his horror when they took away the one person who had loved him, the one that lit fireworks in his darkness.

But before he had time to mourn, the torch had been passed—like some sort of metaphorical relay race—into fresh, affectionate, and welcoming hands. They cared, nurtured, and gave purpose to his existence.

The child hated by a parent, the child of calamity.

Of disaster.

And now that he’s built a home, a hideaway to rush back to whenever things seemed too rough, like hell he’d let the demons of his past have it their way.

He drops down carefully, one knee after another, placing folded hands in front of the head tucked in between his legs.

Because Chika is desperate and he has no pride to protect to begin with, so pleading before them to let him just live outweighed any sense of shame he’d feel.

But he’s naive to think Uzuki cares.

There was something bizzare about the boy since he’d met him, how he changed based on what the situation called for—like a snake shedding layers of its skin.

The light at the end of the tunnel vanishes, but Chika pushes on, pouring the deepest parts of his soul in front of the people that ruined him once before.

Because Chika refused to let his torch dim, the flame protected by so many, he couldn’t be any more grateful.

Uzuki snickers, instructing Abiko and taking a blow to the face.

“I’ll tell everyone you did this to me.” He smiles.

Chika’s light is bright.

But his darkness is all-consuming. It wraps him like a blanket of thorns, clawing to tear chunks of his soul away. In the end, who could he save?

Who could save him?

“I’m tired of all of this!”

He snaps his head, facing the voice, breathing life into his own.

Houzuki stands with her back to him, confronting the men with such ferocity, they stutter for a second.

“To hell with your ‘ruin his life’ nonsense,” she huffs, swinging her hair like a whip. “I’m taking him home!”

He had so many questions.

Houzuki grumbles under her breath all the way out, twisting and turning from one street to the other, tugging him behind her like a four-year-old.

Why was she here to begin with?

Usually, he’d shrug her away. He’d tease the ever loving crap out of her and watch Houzuki turn a brighter shade of crimson every time while subtly keeping his distance from the intense urge to hold her close.

But today, when he looks at her, Chika sees more than just Satowa.

He sees a woman with the will of a stallion, dulling her blade in front of no one, however intimidating they might be.

He sees the hand of a woman he could not help but admire.

Couldn’t help but love.

He stops walking, looking at the fingers wrapped delicately around his wrist as if Chika realised for the first time that he was holding the hand of the woman he fell in love with a long time ago.

“Are you tired?” comes her tender voice filled with concern, as she looks around, “Do you want to sit for a while?”

He looks into her worried eyes and quickly drops his gaze, to the hand she wouldn’t leave. On any normal day, by now Satowa would let go, a shade of bright pink spreading down her arm to her toes.

Today she holds his hand, firm and gentle, both at once, neither shaking nor blushing at the contact that was progressively setting his nerves on fire.

And admitting his feelings was easy. It was easy for him to look at every minute he’d spent with her—in sorrow, in joy—that Chika was irrevocably in love with her.

He’d give the Sun if she demanded it, the moon adorned as an elegant crescent ring around her finger. He’s so in love that he forgets his past, that he could endanger Houzuki and her entire family.

But it looms around him like a constant-present shadow. So he sharpens his facade to protect her.

“You shouldn’t follow me to places like this,” he swallows, maintaining his composure as best as he can. “It’s dangerous. Are you stupid? Don't pull a stunt like this again.”

He steals a glimpse at her, pushing strands of loose hair behind her ear with not an ounce of regret or fear of her actions.

“If anything, you’re the stupid one,” she replies, ebony eyes staring straight into his as he raises an eyebrow in question.

“For thinking you’d need to face this alone.”

He stills, feeling her thumb stroke his bruised knuckles, eyes steadily turning a shade lighter.

“I understand,” she says, “I understand you’ve been fighting your battles by yourself all these years. You feel responsible for everything—like you deserve divine punishment for sins you didn’t commit to begin with,”

“But for once, point the blame to those that deserve it.” her grip tightens. “Tell them to,” she sucks in a sharp breath.

“Eat shit for all I care.”

Her gaze softens as he peers into her eyes; for solace, for the comfort he’s never had. That he’s never asked for.

“You’re only human, Kudou, and humans make mistakes. We all do. Does that mean we need to be crucified for it?”

He shakes his head from one side to another in an unspoken response.

“The past won’t change, no matter how hard we try. But the future.....” she grimaces, “Our circumstances are different now. No one helped you then—no one stood for you,”

Satowa’s smile is melancholy, like rain and snow at once, as she cups his cheek with her free hand.

“But you have me now,” she whispers, lacing her fingers into the groove between his. He peers into those abysmal eyes and sees a promise.

“The only day I’ll let go of this hand will be the day I die.”

In a flash, Chika breaks.

He shatters like smashed glass, scattering across the ground in shards of built up agony. He feels the tears forming in his eyes as he looks into hers, chin wobbling uncontrollably. His heart squeezes in his chest as everything sinks in—Dad, Mom, Grandpa, everyone he’s loved and lost.

And she stays there throughout, rubbing warm circles into his much bigger palm, a distant sorrow in her eyes.

This woman, this beautiful, wonderful woman, had saved him on more occasions than he could count.

She was the white to his black, yin to his yang painting his life with every colour in the spectrum between them.

The Sun sets not far behind, fiery orange encircling her like a golden halo. And that’s all it takes—the gleaming sky behind her, the tears in her eyes, the ones in his.

He pulls her forward gently, letting Satowa fall against him as every type of warmth rushes through his veins.

She stills for a moment, leaning against him, not a hair on her head moving. Chika gives her time, space enough to let go if this isn’t what she wants. God knows he doesn’t want to force her.

When she leaves his hand, Chika thinks it’s all over. And that’s okay.

He’s okay with that.

Instead, Satowa throws her arms around his neck, face sinking into the groove of his chest, nuzzling the space where his heart beats erratically.

He takes a moment to register, but when realisation sets in, Chika pulls her tighter to himself, fingers working through the strands of her hair, chin resting comfortably above her head.

In those small arms, Chika feels the affection she holds radiating with every fibre of her being. She stands on her toes, reaching higher to lay her head on his shoulder. He draws her up by the waist, anchoring her safely to his chest.

“You’re not alone,” she whispers into his collarbone, the touch of her lips, a second of pure bliss for him. He shivers at the contact, holding his breath to stop his thoughts from escalating.

“You’re not alone,” Satowa repeats, chin resting against his chest as she stares into his eyes, lowering one hand to trace his jaw in short, quiet strokes.

“You have me forever.”

When Chika kisses Satowa, he feels everything all at once. The rustling of the leaves dull, his heartbeat overpowering every sound in existence.

When she kisses him back, realisation sinks in that this woman, this beautiful wonderful woman, would give him the world too.

Chika stands in the centre of their universe, two supernovae colliding against the speed of the world, her breath against his skin like warm sunlight streaming in through a window.

When Chika looks into her eyes, he sees himself in them, trapped in a circle of warm ebony. He watches her smile brighten when she raises herself just enough to wipe the tears he doesn’t remember crying.

Today, when he looks at Satowa, Chika sees salvation. He sees his world.

“Forever,” he sighs as they walk back side by side, fingers intertwined, like needle and thread. She gazes at him, instinctively moving closer.

For once, Chika would let himself be protected. Because Satowa was a force to reckon with. She’s fierce and brave and he’s safe in her arms.

Chika really smiles then, one so wide his eyes crinkle and vision narrows to the one person who matters more than any other.

The world has to allow him this one moment of greed.

“Forever isn’t long enough.”

Yay! I wanted to write something for so long! This idea came to me after randomly listening to "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift.

Thank you for reading, and being patient with me. I love y'all so much <<3

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 17 second part

(Masterpost) (Previous Post) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!!

Breaking Good

Wen Qing comes to visit Wen Ning in their backyard meth lab, and tells him that he fucked up a recipe, merely by taking a whiff of the concoction. She uses the approved "wave fumes toward self" way of smelling that you learn in high school science if you live in a country that believes in teaching science, which OP does not.

Wen Ning wants to know if they are going to have a feud, and she tells him there already is one. She tells explains to him that they're good Wens, not evil Wens, and that Jiang Cheng is fucked, and they should send the Jiangs away in the morning before Wen Chao comes around. 

Wen Ning whines at her about all of this, shifting into little-brother persona and acting like he didn't just take down 40 of Wen Chao's soldiers in a single night. He does this same persona shifting in his later unlife, with Wei Wuxian. When there is trouble, he's extremely effective, and can even tail WWX and Lan Wangji without getting caught, but then he is hopeless when dealing with turnips or children. 

Here, it seems like a version of Wei Wuxian's own little-brother persona, in which he pretends to be helpless so that his sister can take care of him.

#studyblr

Wei Wuxian comes into Wen Qing's head shop to ask her for medical books. He loves his brother so much he's volunteering for a research project. We've seen him be clever before; we've seen circumstantial evidence that he's a good student, but now we're going to see him actually buckling down and doing intellectual work.

Wen Qing thinks its hopeless and wants Wei Wuxian to get some rest. But he gives her puppydog eyes, so she sets him up in her library.

Wei Wuxian reads a huge pile of medical books and learns interesting things about the human body.   

(more after the cut)

Hopefully he does not splotch ink all over them while he holds this wet brush directly over the page. Why does he even have a brush in his hand? Is he taking notes in the margin? 

Wen Qing eventually tells him to take a break and go see Jiang Yanli.

Segmentation fault (core dumped)

Jiang Yanli is tending to Jiang Cheng, gently telling him to suck it up by citing their father, which is probably not the greatest idea. 

Yanli's wearing dark blue with white and looks awesome.  It's not Gusu Lan blue, but the blue and white is an interesting choice for the excruciating heart to heart they're about to have.  

Wei Wuxian shows up looking terrible, or the Xiao Zhan version of terrible, i.e. handsome and a little scruffy. But also worn out, unhappy, and fragile.

Jiang Yanli wants him to rest, but he wants to find a way to repair Jiang Cheng's core, and his mind races, trying to think of where he can get books and who can help him. His thoughts instantly go to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji. His face lights up at the thought that Lan Wangji will help him, and he hops up, ready to dash off and find him.

The first time I watched this I was like, dude yes you’re in love, but you can’t just dash off to find Lan Wangji, not when there’s a war on.  This time I was like, actually wow things would turn out a whole lot better if you got Lan Wangji to help you, instead of coming up with your own plan.

Mother Mother Can You Tell Me

Jiang Yanli tells him to slow his roll.  He's pushing himself too hard and she's afraid he will collapse. Then Wei Wuxian comes out and says what's driving him: maybe all these disasters are his fault.

It's telling, I think, that he cites Madame Yu, not Jiang Cheng, in this moment, even though Jiang Cheng has blamed him much more thoroughly and consistently. He's talking about one mother figure, to another mother figure, and looking for absolution.

He super does not get what he's looking for.

Jiang Yanli slowly lets go of him and goes the fuck off. She asks, rhetorically, what he's to blame for, and then lists off all of the shit that's happened.  She finishes up by saying, look at our situation; blaming won't help anything. 

It's unclear, because language/translation, if her answer is "it doesn't matter who's to blame" I.E. "yes, it's your fault, but I'm letting it go" or if she is saying "how does blaming yourself help anything?" I.E. "it's not your fault, stop being a drama llama."

Her body language, though, seems pretty blameful - she lets go of him, yells at him, sits down and turns away from him.  And his reaction is not one of shared grief, or of someone who is trying to get over himself; he's totally crushed, and he literally never unburdens himself to her again.  Even when he asks her, much later, about love, he immediately backs out of the conversation. 

There is no violence in this moment and her reaction is understandable, but this is kind of similar to that one time when his brother choked him in a beautiful field of grass, in order to make himself feel better. 

Then she kind of relents and takes his hand, telling him that she needs him and reminding him that he promised that they will go back to Lotus Pier. I don't remember him promising this, but okay. 

He puts his head on her lap and he cries, she cries, comatose Jiang Cheng cries; FUCK this episode.  

Jiang Cheng manages to cry only one tear and does it on the side of his face that his siblings can't see because he's not going to give them the satisfaction of sharing this moment with him, I guess.

When Wei Wuxian puts his head on Jiang Yanli's lap, it's part of a ritual for them, that they both are comforted by; he does it again much later, after they return to Lotus Pier. But this ritual does not actually do anything to relieve his burdens. As a male adult, and the only Jiang Clan disciple with any abilities, it falls to him to save the clan, whatever it takes, and he is heavily aware of it.

Wen Qing comes along and sees the sweet part of this complicated Shijie-Shidi dynamic, and decides to help with Wei Wuxian's research project. When the trio had just lost their parents, gotten sick, been pursued by enemies, & had one of Yanli's little brothers horribly wounded, Wen Qing was like, eh, I'll do the doctor stuff but that's it. But lap-crying is another level. 

Wen Qing: Nooo don't put your head on her knees I failed my saving throw

Group Project

Wen Qing goes and cleans up the mess in the library, putting everything in order and settling in to read systematically. Wen Qing probably has the prettiest bullet journal. (OP looks proudly at the 100 loose slips of paper and piles of random stuff on her own desk)

Wei Wuxian has shaved and rested and comes in with a tray of food for Wen Qing, and then goes to his table in the back to start working. He claims he made "porridge" for her and that she has to eat to gain strength, and she gives him an intrigued expression.  This moment is just blatant het baiting.  

In fact the food he brings her is clearly not porridge, which might just be a translation error, but also he totally can't cook, so it's not clear if he's joking and Yanli or Wen Ning made the food, or if this is just inedible.

The Things We Do For Love

Yanli is working in the meth lab and coughing a lot. Yanli's chronic illness is a sign of what's to come for Wei Wuxian, because strong cultivators don't get sick. Yet Yanli, as a physically vulnerable person, who has either a weak golden core, or none, is still intrinsically valuable.  Her presence in this scene is a reminder that Jiang Cheng's life is not, actually, over; he just feels like it is.

While Yanli cooks the meth, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing have a study montage that is the equivalent of a training montage, except without "Eye of the Tiger" on the soundtrack.

Jiang Cheng remains unconscious. Apparently if you stick nails in the top of someone's head, you make them sleep, and in the back of their head, you turn them into part of your zombie army. Fortunately Wen Qing's aim is good. Jiang Cheng is looking devastatingly handsome as usual the TV version of unwell, and has grown a perfect Dorito-chip of stubble on his chin to go with his new 'stache.

Eventually Wei Wuxian changes back into his non-vampire robe and he finds the answer in an old scroll book. The Ikea instruction picture shows arrows going from the guy on the left to the guy on the right.  Clearly it's not a great procedure for the guy on the left.

Wei Wuxian's face shows us exactly how not great. 

Like walking in the rain and the snow and there’s no place to go and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying

He goes outside and gazes up at the trees and the sky as he contemplates the sacrifice that circumstance is forcing on him. He's not even making a choice at this point; his choice was made the moment he found the procedure. But it's going to be a tremendous loss for him. He values sword cultivation at least as much as Jiang Cheng does; he even fell in love with a boy over crossed swords. So he sits and just kind of comes to terms with this new understanding of his future. (Big gifs here)

Wen Qing finds him sitting, stunned, on the porch. She doesn't know what's up so she just sits quietly with him until he's ready to tell her.

She doesn't love the plan.  

Thunder, Th-th-thunder

Wen Ning is bringing food up when he sees them arguing, and he is startled by situationally appropriate thunder and lightning. Having recently watched The Lost Tomb Reboot I've come to expect thunder and lighting to appear on cue in any possible situation, so the fact that this mini-storm clears right up again doesn't bother me.

What About You?

Wen Ning dashes inside to see what Mom and Dad are fighting about. They're having a polite shouting match because Wen Qing refuses to yank out Wei Wuxian's core. 

Wen Qing: I hate the idea of harming you Wei Wuxian: I don’t even understand that sentence

Wei Wuxian doesn’t, of course, feel that he is important in any way, and ignores her concerned and appalled expressions in favor of telling her to just do it anyway. Amazingly, this does not convince her. 

OP’s 177cm-tall son keeps telling her this

Then Wei Wuxian plays the "you know Jiang Cheng" card, which...I guess she does? Maybe he was chatting her up more than we saw in Cloud Recesses? He hasn't given her the comb or anything yet. Wei Wuxian explains that Jiang Cheng cares about gain and loss, and cultivation is his life. If he can only be ordinary the rest of his life will be ruined.

Wen Qing asks the question that nobody ever asks him: What about you? 

Wei Wuxian has literally nothing to say to that, possibly because the question is so new to him. 

Wen Ning doesn't know what's going on but comes squarely in on team Wei, of course, and begs his sister to Do The Thing.  How fucking horrified is Wen Ning going to be when he learns what The Thing is? What he is personally going to help do to his beloved friend? Yikes.   

Wen Qing caves, warning them that the chance of success is only 50 percent. Wei Wuxian is happy to take those odds.

Lan Wangji, projecting his voice from Episode 46: fifty percent, are you fucking kidding me?

Soundtrack: 1. Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham 2. The Things We Do For Love by 10cc 3. Thunder by Imagine Dragons

[theyscreamjade]

Sugar Cookies

Isn’t it strange how Christmas..just seems to be the best time of the year? I hope you guys are prepared, you’re in for a treat.

————————————————————————————————————————

You softly sat on the bed within the home you shared with your fiancé Shoto Todoroki. You lifted your foot as it crossed over your lap while slipping your heel on. You and Shoto were invited to a family dinner within the Todoroki household which hardly ever ends right. Since the discovery of Touya and everything, it’s been tense inside the house.

“Shoto? I’ve seen you get dressed faster to see Izuku.” You commented while looking at the red and white-haired individual casually sitting on the ottoman inside the room. You sighed at his silent glare towards you before walking to him, your hand touching his warm chin. “We won’t be there for long okay?” You suggested with a soft smile. His cyan and grey eyes looked into yours before giving you a soft smile back.

You knew how to make him melt like butter with your words. It’s amazing how the once rebellious teen is going to a husband to a wonderful person like you. “I’d hate to be late, so please get ready.” You instructed before walking out of the room to retrieve the dish you were asked (more like demanded) to make.

Since Fuyumi was cooking the majority of the meal, She and Natsuo insisted you make the desserts especially after you made such a delicious apple pie for thanksgiving. Natsuo loves peppermint and Fuyumi loves chocolate, you decide to make three different dessert dishes for them. Chocolate truffles for Fuyumi, White Chocolate peppermint bars for Natsuo, and lastly Christmas sugar cookies. The other two were completed already and the cookies were sat out to cool when you decided to shower and get dressed.

Your fingers grazed the cool cookies before smiling softly, putting your apron on. You wore a Santa clause dress that Fuyumi brought for you last year. Though it swayed with every move you made, it was a bit short. It was an off-shoulder Santa dress. You decided to play it safe and wear stockings so nothing would be exposed during the small gathering.

You picked up the frosting bag of green frosting while you began to decorate the cookies shaped like trees. You focused intensely while each tree was painted to perfection. Afterward, you switched bags to the red ones and began to paint little balls on the tree to represent ornaments.

You were so focused, you didn’t see your dressed future husband who was staring at you in silence. He admired the amount of effort you’d put into his crazy and dysfunctional family even though..he couldn’t focus on that.

He was staring at your outfit. From your thigh-high heeled boots to the sexy dress you were wearing. From the way you always made yourself look gorgeous with your makeup to the scent of your perfume. It was intoxicating to him. Once he fixed his toe, he walked to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His suddenness made you jump as frosting squirts on your hand.

“Oh! You startled me..” you said softly, laughing it off a bit before reaching for the dishcloth that was sitting on the counter.

Your hand was suddenly pulled back as Shoto’s tongue grazed your hand. His tongue became slightly green from the sweet frosting until he touched the tip of your finger, sucking it without hesitation. His other hand that sat at your waist touched your stomach softly while your body heat increased.

“S-S-Shoto?” You began to say as he pulled you closer to his warm and cool body while his face rubbed against your neck before kissing it.

“I want you..” he whispered, his voice deep enough to send chills through your body. “W-What about...What about the dinner?” You asked, trying to hold your moans back from his soft nips and sucks on your neck. He didn’t respond to your question but instead spun you around to face him. Your lips connected almost instantly as his body pinned you against the counter in the kitchen right beside the fridge.

The sweet taste of the frosting swirled within your mouths while his hands gripped your dress, holding it as if he wanted to snatch it off your body. Your lips moved in sync as his obvious bulge began to rub against you, demanding to be freed. The kiss was broken, leaving you panting for air as he scooped you up and snatched you away.

Lord knows what went through his supposed mind of his, you were plopped on the dining room table. Before you could even question him, his lips connected with yours within the beautiful room. It was a large glass table with gorgeous white chairs. The admirable part of the room was the large windows that surround the room, often reflecting the sunlight or moonlight inside the house. It was such a gorgeous sight and Shoto simply adored seeing you in the beautiful sunlight at dawn.

Your heels clicked on the glass as Shoto’s head ducked down while he snatched his shirt off. The lust between you two was overwhelming and overpowered your thoughts. Your hand was like a magnet and gripped his silky hair when his tongue grazed your eager core.

There was no way you weren’t wet by his demand of wanting you and including the intense, breathtaking make out session. Your once red lipstick was smudged, your hair was a bit wild but who could see you now?

“Shoto!” You cried out, the tingling orgasm slamming against your imaginary knot, begging for a release while your boyfriend was eating you like the meal you were supposed to be having at this moment. Your head snatched back while your chest rose and fell quickly. The top of your dress was at your shoulders, and your now ripped bra hung off the side of the table.

Your bottom lip was snatched between your teeth while you struggled to keep yourself together. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Shoto! I’m go-Fuck!” You cried out, sending him a warning as you came to your blissful release. Once he was satisfied, Shoto’s hand snatched you to the edge of the table. You found yourself in a doggy-style position while Shoto held your right leg in his hands. This mere position could send chills down anyone’s spine. He had full control and you are going to feel him everywhere inside you.

He slowly slides inside you, earning a soft grunt from his lips while your mouth opened from his entrance. He paused and smirked, looking down at you. “Looks like you’ve been getting tighter, Baby..” he said softly, applying that he still had a few of him not inside you quite yet. Your right leg was soon lifted and you have spun back around on your back. His hands touched your waist as he pushed himself deeper inside you.

Your hands touched his lower abs while your toes curled in your boots. You prayed he wouldn’t get into the god-forbidden position on this glass table. His hands leaned to your sides while he began to move, slamming deep inside you. Your right hand gripped one of the arms behind it, moaning out in pleasure while a puddle began to form on the table. Unsure to what released this horny man this time, but came you blame him?

You’re a walking masterpiece and he’s willing to admire and love you as much as possible. Each deep thrust sent waves of pleasure through your mind while he slammed all of him inside you. Your moans couldn’t be kept in even if you tried, well..until they increase to screams.

God must’ve missed your prayers before your legs were suddenly opened wider and he slammed himself into your cervix, making your eyes roll back. “D-Don't stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You screamed out before switching back to crying out his name and moans. He was damn near swimming inside you along with the puddle as perfect evidence. Your nails dug into his arm while the knot tightened again along with your walls, gripping him tightly.

Your mascara and eyeliner were now messed up from sweat that coated your face while your lover coated your neck with new hickeys you’d have to cover. “Shoto! OH FUCK!” You screamed out before your release came again, coating your lover in your warm mess. His hands formed fists while he continued to slam inside you, harder than before at a quicker pace. He was nearing his climax as the ding of the doorbell was missed. He grunted loudly as he released himself inside you as the doorbell ring again along with a loud banging.

“Shoto?! Y/N?! You home!?” Natsuo asked from behind the door while you two tried to come down. Then the lock clicked and the alarm beeped, signaling that it was disarmed and someone had the lock. You mentally slapped yourself, remembering that you have Fuyumi a key to the house when you and Shoto had to travel for a mission. She was in charge of watching the house and feeding your pet turtle.

“I smell peppermint bark! They’ve gotta be in here!” Natsuo said, taking his shoes off as he made his way to the kitchen. “Ohh! They even made sugar cookies! This looks delicious!” He continued, admiring the sweets while Fuyumi became worried.

“Y/N?! Shoto?! You guys home?!” She called out, walking around as she pulled the door to the dining room open. You two turned your head to them, now dressed again with a photo album in your hands as if you two were going down memory lane of your relationship.

“Fuyumi! Wait, it’s that late?! I’m so sorry!” You said, rushing over to the older woman. “I hope we’re not too late, Shoto reminded me that we should take another Christmas photo this year you lied, perfectly as Shoto stood up.

“It’s okay! We were just worried, that’s all! Touya hadn’t shown up yet and just wanted to see if you needed help or something.” She offered as you smiled. “Could you help me finish the cookies and we’ll go together? How about that?” You offered while the two of you walked into the kitchen again.

“Shoto, I think you should call a repairman,” Natsuo said, pointing towards the puddle in the middle of the table. “It looks like you’ve got a leak somewhere.” The older brother recommended, earning a nod in agreement.

“I’ll make sure to get that settled later tonight.”

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

Navigating the Storm (1/4)

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note:  Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated M          4.5K          ao3           ffnet          Under the cut, promise

It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks. 

Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders. 

Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?

Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break. 

As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it. 

“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.

 “Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.

Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.” 

Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together. 

“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”

Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.

“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.

“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”

And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.

As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary. 

“What?” Snow asked. 

“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.

“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”

“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.

“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs. 

Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.

“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.

“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”

Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.

“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be. 

“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.

“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying. 

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.” 

“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh. 

“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.

Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.

“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”

Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together. 

“Is everything okay?” David asked.

Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.

“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.

Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her. 

“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.

Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back. 

“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”

“Bae-” Hook started

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”

“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.

“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”

“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted. 

“Not now, mom.”

“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”

That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.

“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”

“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”  

The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out. 

“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.

“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life. 

Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give. 

“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.

“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.

Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”

Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.  

“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.

Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.

“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner. 

Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things. 

“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.

Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”

“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket. 

“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”

“Is that an invitation, Swan?”

She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up. 

“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.

“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”

Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic? 

“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.” 

“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.

“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.  

She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night. 

“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.

Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.

“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play. 

She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it. 

“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”

Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.

“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”

“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love. 

Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...”  Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior. 

“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before. 

Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.

“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”

“What?” 

Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.” 

A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.” 

She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him. 

“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.

Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”

“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted. 

“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”

Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.” 

“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.” 

Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.

“How’s that?”

“About crying being cathartic.”

“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.” 

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You called me Killian.”

The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.

She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body. 

“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave. 

Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.

“Will you stay with me?”

His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form. 

“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered. 

His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed. 

“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

“And did it help, having me there?”

“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.” 

“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.” 

“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.” 

“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“I don’t think so, love.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”

“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her. 

“Swan,” he groaned.

“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.” 

Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.” 

Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”

“Aye, sometimes.”

She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”

Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.

“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland. 

Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells

[poutyhannie]

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, sub!jisung, dom!femreader, pegging, denied orgasm, unsafe sex, degrading 

word count: +2.4k 

this was inspired by a twitter post saying that jisung is the type of boyfriend that would say ‘you wanna kiss me so bad’ during an argument :))

“I don’t understand why it’s so fucking difficult for you to just put a stupid shirt on when I have my friends over, Jisung,” you exclaim, exasperated at your boyfriends stubbornness and the fact that you have to even ask this of him. You’d think not walking around half naked in front of guests would be an obvious courtesy but Jisung had to emerge from your shared room with his tits out and even now brushes off your requests. 

“I’m chill with your friends,” is all he offers, shrugging to walk away from you to the bedroom but his flippant attitude and unwillingness to hear you has you snapping at him. “Listen, I don’t fucking care how close you are with them, put some fucking clothes on when we have people over!” 

He pauses, looking back at you with an infuriating knowing smirk, “So this is what this is about.” 

“The fuck do you mean, this is the only thing I’ve been talking to you about!” 

Smiling, he strolls back over to you before bending down to look you in the eye patronizingly. 

 Oh, this little brat. 

“You wanna fuck me so bad.” 

Your stuttering cough has Jisung smirking, cocky and content with his guess but you protest, “I’m asking you to put some clothes on, idiot!” 

“No, no,” Jisung shakes his head, his fluffy black hair caressing his face, “you got all worked up seeing me a little bit naked and you wanna blame it on me.” 

“Know your fucking place, baby boy.” Jisung is normally a brat, but you’re hoping your dark tone will shut him up. Contrary to these hopes but aligning with past history, Jisung just cocks an eyebrow at you, heightening the burning in your stomach from anger to something deeper. 

How much you want to put this little brat in his place. Instead, a harsh, condescending laugh tears through your throat. Jisung’s confident smirk falters for a millisecond. “No, baby boy you’re projecting. You just want me to fuck you in that pretty ass of yours again.” Jisung’s adam apple bobs harshly despite his relatively unfazed face as he shakes his head harshly. “Aww,” you coo, “is my little Bambi too shocked to use his words?” 

At the use of his favorite nickname you have for him, red flushes Jisung’s cheeks and ears. “No—,” he denies fruitlessly but you’ve already made your mind. 

“Fine, if my horny little slut really can’t go a few hours without blatantly acting out, I guess I have no other choice. Go get in bed. Put on that new outfit we bought.” Jisung protests, pouting in an attempt to hide his stupid smile as he drags his feet. 

Jisung kneels on the bed, his tan thighs providing a beautiful contrast of the white of the sheets and the baby blue of the skirt you bought for him. You can already see the outline of his dick pressing up against the folds of the skirt. His eyes are glassy and his chest already rises quickly. “Good boy, now get my box and you can finally get what you want.” 

A frown is etched on Jisung’s face, his pretty pink lips curling into a pout, “No, I don’t want it. I wanna be in you.” 

Your hand squeezes Jisung’s chin firmly and you try to not melt at how his cheeks squish in your grip. “You’ve already tested me enough today, Bambi. Better get the box now.” 

Jisung’s round dark eyes hold yours for a split second longer than usual and your chest flares at his indignant attitude. “I got in the skirt and I’m sitting here all pretty; why do you want the box?” He whines, playing with the skirt’s hem. 

Sighing, you drop Jisung’s chin, walking to the closet yourself and ignoring Jisung’s sudden backpedaling, his claims that he’ll get the box himself but your cold voice stops him half way to the closet. “Get back on the fucking bed, face in the pillows, you fucking brat.” Retrieving the familiar black box and turning around your met with Jisung’s shivering figure bent over into the bed. Tracing a finger up his smooth thighs, you remind, “Remember to use the safe word when you need it, Jisung.” 

He nods into the pillows. Faster than he could nod again, your hand is on his ass, smacking him for not using his words. A pretty little whimper and then a soft, “Yes, I understand, ma’am.” Content, you return to his thighs, stroking slowly up and teasing around his painfully erect cock and ass. You fasten a cock ring on him, ignoring Jisung’s soft whimpers of protest. “

As pretty as this skirt is, I don’t think you deserve it right now, Bambi. I was really excited to fuck you in it but you’re just not letting that happen.” Jisung can only shiver as you slowly unzip the skirt and carefully hang it up, making sure to take your time smoothing out the creases from the hanger. 

Jisung always liked things quick, exciting; he hates the slow and methodical so you’re a bit surprised when his pretty bare ass is still up in the air when you finally turn around. You let your finger tips whisper over his thighs, softly circling up his tender skin until he’s quivering under your touch. His cock is glistening, pressed harshly against his lower abdomen and his chest heaves as he attempts to keep quiet. In the tense silence, a resounding smack fills the room. Jisung jolts forward, surprised by the juxtaposition of your gentle caresses with the harsh hand that is turning his pretty ass pink. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh, baby boy? You think that if you prance around half naked, like a slut, I’ll let you fuck me?” 

Jisung’s voice is high, whiny, and breathy, “I-I didn’t plan that!” Another smack that stings your palm and his ass jiggles adorably, “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew I had friends over and you wanted my attention like the clingy little whore you are.” A groan escapes Jisung’s lips, muffled by the pillows, but you can hear it loud and clear. It rings through the silent room, hanging in the air as tension builds. By the way Jisung shivers, you can tell he’s thinking of apologizing but you don’t let him. Grasping his fluffy black hair by the scalp, you wrench his face up to look at you. 

His eyes are shining and wide and his lips are red from his teeth. “You like this shit. You think your shitty excuses can fool me? Am I an idiot to you?” 

He shakes his head as best he can under your grip and his lips quiver, “I-I just really wanted your attention,” he whispers. 

“Color, Jisung?” 

His earnest, round eyes hold yours with determination even as his bottom lip quivers. “Green.” 

With that, you push his head back into the pillows, smacking his ass once more before fastening the strap onto your hips. The dildo is baby blue, matching Jisung’s skirt currently hanging in the closet. Jisung picked it out. “Fine. If my little slut wants my fucking attention, he’s got it now,” you hiss as you squirt strawberry lube onto your finger and press it to his quivering hole. An almost inaudible whimper escapes Jisung and you reach down to harshly grasp his dick. He cries out, jolting into your hand involuntarily. “Let me hear you, Bambi. Don’t hold back those pretty sounds.” 

He groans in to the pillow, “Yes, ma’am.” Satisfied, you press your two fingers into his ass, relishing the exhale he lets out. Slowly, you begin to push in and out of him, curling your fingers and scissoring deep into him. His soft moans fill the room, accompanying the familiar sounds of your fingers in him. Finally acting good, Jisung arches his back at the sensation and you feel him clench around your fingers. Sliding your fingers out of him, you lather more lube on the strap before positioning yourself behind him. The deep, throaty moan Jisung lets out when you enter him burns your core and you start roughly thrusting into him. Unlike your previously honey-slow movements, your thrusts are quick, so rapid that after a few moments, Jisung’s arms collapse under him. 

Slapping, sounds of his hole, Jisung’s constant stream of weak moans fill your ears. His hand fumbles around behind him, wanting to hold your hands but you slap it away, pulling out quickly. A high whine escapes from Jisung’s swollen lips and you flip him over, yanking his thighs apart. “Hold,” you instruct him and Jisung nods weakly, grabbing his ankles and positioning his hips up. 

It’s such a pretty scene: Jisung’s round, glassy eyes focused only on you, his flushed cheeks, his wet hole, and his glistening red cock. You ease the strap into him again, leaning down to grip his shoulders as you begin thrusting into him at the same rapid speed. Jisung’s pretty lips open as he scrunches his nose up, overcome with pleasure. His hair bounces with your thrusts and slapping rings in your ears. After you quickly reposition, Jisung lets out a high scream, “Right there! Yes, oh my god, right there.” Using your hands to push his hips down in tempo with your thrusts, you beckon Jisung closer to his unraveling. His face screws up and his gasps become rapid. Your hand begins rubbing his hard cock and he moans beautifully. Swiping over the slit you keep thrusting into him until his moans increase in volume and he cries out, “I-I’m close!” 

At this, you fully pull out and away from Jisung. His cries of pleasure immediately turn into cries of pain as he sobs into the pillows, turning over to rub his cock in the covers. “Why did you do that?” Jisung cries, his voice raw and sensitive as his eyes fill with tears. 

“Suck it,” you demand, pushing your hips forward. Still fuzzy from his denied orgasm, Jisung’s lips fumble around the plastic and his doe eyes gaze up at you, even as tears spill over onto his pretty cheeks. He hollows his cheeks and moves up and down the plastic, never breaking eye contact with you. “Why do you think you deserve to cum, Bambi? You’ve been nothing but a bad boy.” 

He whines into the plastic, averting his eyes, still sucking on the plastic like a lollipop. You pull away, gripping his cheeks with your hand. There’s his own cum mixed with lube on his lips, it makes them as glossy as his teary eyes. “Answer me.” Jisung’s cheeks and the tips of his ears burn red. “I-I don’t de-deserve to cum,” he whispers, pouting. 

“And why’s that?” 

Tears fill his eyes once again and he looks at you mournfully, “Because I’ve been n-nothing but a b-bad boy.” 

“Do bad boys get to cum?” You ask him. 

“N-no,” he whispers. 

“Do bad boys get to fuck me?” 

He shakes his head around your hand, “Bad boys d-don’t deserve t-to fuck you.” 

Nodding you tell him, “Lay back on the bed.” His eyes fill with sadness that pangs at your heart but he obeys, staring longingly at the strap that you’re taking off. Slowly, you clamber onto of him, your burning core dragging on his abdomen. Hands on his chest, you begin using his body, rolling your hips up and down his stomach as he does nothing but watch you with glassy eyes. The dejected look in his eyes tells you he’s disappointed you’re just gonna get yourself off yet there’s a distinct excitement at watching you grind yourself onto his abs. So when you grab his dick and sink down on it though, he gasps, bucking up into you. Quickly, you begin bouncing on top of him as his gasps and moans of surprise mix with yours. 

Jisung fills you so perfectly and stretches you so beautifully your mind is whirling. He gently caresses your thighs as he arches his back off the bed. The denied orgasm and tension made him sensitive. “You’ve b-been such a slut, baby,” you gasp, moving up and down his solid length, “B-but you’re my slut and I-I take care of you.” 

Jisung whines at your words, gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. “D-does that mean y-you’re not mad at me?” You gaze down at him and his fucked-out self and smile, “Was e-earlier not punishment enough to sh-show you I was mad at you?” He shakes his head quickly, thrusting up to meet you as he starts whining and moaning. “I-I’m close, ma’am. C-can I c-cum please?” 

Jisung uses two fingers to rub your clit in tempo with your movements and you hum in pleasure. “C-cum whenever, Bambi,” you breathe, as the coil in your stomach tightens. Jisung nods, eyebrows scrunching as his moans become more high and loud, whiny cries fills the room as he shoots into you. Jisung’s pleasure-filled expression is all it takes for you to unravel, clenching around his twitching dick. Riding out both of your highs, you slowly descend from pleasure and collapse beside Jisung, whose chest heaves and eyes are shut. 

When he doesn’t open them even after you’ve gathered your senses, you push yourself up onto an elbow, worry furrowing your brow. “Bambi, was that too much?” His dark pretty eyes open slowly and you caress his tear stained cheek gently. 

“I-I’m sorry for making you mad, I just really m-missed you and wanted your attention.” Cooing you shake your head, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks before trailing down to press open mouthed kisses on his neck and nibbling on his sensitive part. He shivers as you whisper into his wonderful smelling neck, “I’m not upset at you, Jisung,” you tell him, curling your fingers into his hair, “Don’t ever apologize for wanting my attention.” Kissing his neck again and sucking, you make him sigh contently, though there’s still tension. “I’ll always want to give my precious baby boy attention. You deserve the world, Bambi. You’re my angel and I wanna give you everything.” 

All tension in Jisung’s face and body immediately relaxes and a shining, gummy smile spreads across his face. “Really?” He coos, tugging you closer to wrap his arms around you. 

You nod firmly, “You’re pretty, precious, wonderful boyfriend and what I say during sex doesn’t mean anything because I love you so much.” Jisung giggles, blushing as he nuzzles his nose with yours, “Okay. I love you too, Y/n.”

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

So, this was skinny dipping

Word count: 20k+

Rushing down the stairs was a bad idea. I knew it as soon as I stepped down into the living room. I could feel pain taking over my body and rising up my spine, and my muscles screamed at me to stop, to just give up. It wasn’t like Harry was looking for me. He hadn’t even left the room, he had let me walk away from him.

And I didn’t know if the void in my chest was because I didn’t care, or because I cared too much. It was a new kind of pain that weighed on my limbs and made my body feel heavy, and as if even breathing drained my energy. My chest burned, feeling tighter with every new breath, and I felt as if everyone around me was looking at me, pointing their fingers and watching as I had a slow meltdown. 

For a second, I thought about giving in and sitting there on the floor so I could cry all of my feelings out. I didn’t need them or had any use for them, no one to pour them out for. Sam was just confused. Harry certainly didn’t give a fuck. Maybe then, I would remember that I was just fine all by myself. And I would remember that love sucked, any-fucking-way. 

“There you are!” If only I had noticed a second before, I would’ve been able to hide, but before I knew, Diana had popped out of nowhere, and she was already making me follow her through the room, as she made her way to the pool, where the lights were brighter, and the air was cleaner. D was wearing a simple blue dress and a leather jacket, and her long blonde hair was thrown into a messy bun. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and Jesus Christ, she didn’t need it. She looked fucking gorgeous. A tiny little fairy that would bite you if you got too close. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where were you?” She asked accusingly but waved her hand dismissively before I had a chance to answer. “Y’know what? I don’t need to know. C’mon, we need to take photos for the ‘gram.” 

Usually, I would hastily pull my hand away, and roll my eyes at her so she would notice (and ignore) my annoyance, but this time, I followed meekly. Her touch felt so real, and everything else was so blurry and faded, it was almost comforting. Her hand was small and she had her nails painted a greenish-blue and I made a mental note to ask her for the shade name. 

“Are you ok?” She asked as we came to a halt, and she looked at me expectantly with those huge eyes of hers. And I considered telling the truth, I did. I considered telling her that I felt like my heart had crippled into a tiny ball and that I had a sudden, panicky and crushing feeling that I was destined to live without really knowing what it was like to be loved. But that seemed like the kind of conversation that I would rather not have. Ever. 

“Yes,“ I replied, squeezing her fingers lightly between mine, and trying to be reassuring and believable. It seemed like I had failed, cause she glared at me for a second, and opened her mouth as if she was ready to say something. She sighed, and whatever it was that she was to say hung in the air heavily. “Please, don’t say ‘gram,” I joked, as I resisted the urge to swat the air to dissipate the silence that was screaming at me. 

“I’ll think about it,” Diana smiled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, and I relaxed as a result. I was safe. “Now, pose.”

“Say please…” I teased. 

“Oh, fuck off…” That was all I got. 

I hated taking photos, there was always something to criticize, I always had to think about my smile, my hair, my left cheek which was considerably bigger than my right one and it was only noticeable in pictures. But I did as I was told, and smiled brightly at the camera when I was instructed to do so. What was the point in fighting it anyway? It was easier to sell the dream, I had a lot more to gain from it. I was a happy girl, in the middle of a party to celebrate her boyfriend, Harry Fucking Styles. This girl had her head in the clouds. 

“Good, I think I have it. Y’know what? We should go look for Harry so we can take a few with him. Do you think he’ll be up for that?” It was a good thing that Diana was distracted looking at the photos, cause then she couldn’t notice the sheer panic that crossed my face at the mention of Harry’s name.

No, let’s not look for him. 

If I saw Harry, if I spoke to him, I was going to cry, or worse, I was probably going to beg. The idea alone cut my ego like a knife. But most importantly, I already suspected what the answer was going to be, and I didn’t feel like hearing it.  

Funny enough, we both saw him at the same time. He had changed into a buttoned-down shirt and high-waisted pants, and my heart stopped as he looked in my direction, towering over the room from the middle of the stairs. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, but my knees wobbled a bit at the sight of him. Anxiety took over my body and I kept looking at both Harry and Diana, just to see if she would notice if I just ran away. 

“There he is! Jesus, you two are impossible tonight,” D exclaimed, as she started to make her way to him. I bet she didn’t expect me to grab her briskly and pull her back to me, which made her topple on her feet because her eyes went wild and a little bit murderous when she looked at me. “What?” She spat and at that very moment, I realized that I didn’t have a plan, and if I did, I had only gotten to the first part: getting the fuck out of that house. So I smiled stupidly at her, wishing that my brain worked faster. 

“I’m...I’m hungry, D…” I said. Someone had grabbed Harry for a chat, which probably gave me seconds. I had seconds to leave that house. “I want a milkshake. Can we go get one?”

“You’re on a diet, of course not,” Diana said, and she turned back around, ready to go look for Harry. But I was insistent, and my fingers wouldn’t let go of her arm, keeping her right where she was. 

‘You can lose a pound or two’ were the exact words that the producers had used before they sent me to the most in-demand trainer in the city. So sugar was out and lifting weights, doing 100 squats a day and jumping jacks were in.  

“Then, a burger,” I offered brightly. “I can ask for lettuce instead of bread!”

“You can’t eat meat, S. It makes you all bloated and you know it. What’s going on??”

I was willing to risk it. 

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” I scowled. It didn’t matter anyway, cause I had lost my chance to leave with some of my pride still intact.

Harry seemed tired and pissed, I could feel the intense waves that rolled off his body as he looked at me. The hinges of his jaw popped up, he was clenching his teeth so hard. A chill ran down my spine and I struggled to look away from him. So our eyes met and I felt myself getting paralyzed as I looked at him getting closer to me. 

I was fully aware that I was an insufferable idiot and that nothing was going to happen. Nor Harry Styles, the singer, or Sofia Welsh-De La Rosa, the actress, could afford the scandal or the unbridled media attention. No, we preferred to control the narrative, it made us look like we had our lives together. So we would simply end the night with smiles and heart eyes on our faces, to Diana, Midge, and Jeff’s delight, and go our separate merry ways as soon as we could.

If he needed me, he could call Diana, and if I needed him...well, I was going to do everything in my power to not need him. 

I took a deep breath to steady myself and repeated mentally that everything was ok. I just needed to play the role, cause that was what everyone was expecting from me: To play the role I had been hired for. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that and I was the only one to blame. There was nothing more, even the nights I had spent in his bed meant nothing. I was filling empty spaces, taking a place so it wouldn’t go cold. His sweet words were meant for another girl. His touch just meant to keep him occupied. And I was playing a role, nothing more. 

So, I breathed out and smiled brightly at him, as brightly as the hole in my chest would allow. I had to remember that Harry’s girlfriend was not heartbroken, she didn’t feel the need to cry cause she had gotten her stupid hopes up. She was happy and she was loved by the man in front of her. Everything was right in her world. 

“Hi,” I whispered as Harry stood next to me, and I leaned to him, brushing my lips against his cheek. His breath was sharp and shallow and I could feel it fawning over my skin when he looked at me. It made the little hairs on the nape of my neck stand at attention. Silly me, it almost seemed as if he wanted to kiss me. 

“Can we talk?” He asked in the same whispering tone.

“No.”

“Sof…” Harry sighed, and I chose to ignore him, still smiling at him, which probably frustrated him to no end. 

“D wants to take photos of us. Do you mind?” I asked instead. 

Diana seemed like she didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it, and she cleared her throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but us. It was unlike her, because under normal circumstances, she would be tapping her foot, and crossing her arms over her chest as she impatiently pushed us into place. Right now, she stood there, looking at us and doing nothing of the sort. 

“Well, I, uh, I thought maybe I could take some pictures of you guys acting like a couple, like candids, but, uh, we don’t have to do that,” She said. “But it’s ok if you don’t want to. It seems like you guys have stuff to deal with.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry confirmed. “And Sof, please, let’s talk.”

“We’re good, Harry. We have nothing to talk about,” I said and mentally patted myself on my back for not letting my voice wobble. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t look so happy, not even as I smiled adoringly and sweetly at him. His angry stance was coming back, the kind of anger that bubbles under your skin and waits for the right moment to explode. So I was careful as I looped my arms around his neck, and swayed a bit, my eyes focusing on the small freckle next to his lip. If I leaned closer just an inch, I could kiss it. I could kiss him, slowly and sweetly. 

My knees wobbled again when Harry looked at me. 

Being so close to him was not a good idea, cause he smelled sweet and clean, and his blue shirt was soft to the touch, and for a second there, I pictured myself wearing it wide open, with only a pair of pink lace panties, while I lied on his bed. He would hover over me, pressing kisses on my supple skin as he settled himself between my legs. 

Stop. 

“Then, let me talk.”

His fingers burned little holes on my skin wherever he touched me, and I struggled to pull myself back to reality. I had nowhere to go to, he was all-encompassing, all I could breathe and see. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Harry. I just want something to show on my Instagram feed, keep people talking.”

“Why would we do that?” Harry’s smile was sad as if he already knew the answer and he didn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Cause that’s how PR relationships work. You need promo, and so do I, so why not?”

“Don’t say that…”

“Oh, I wasn’t the one that said it.”

“Sof…”

“It’s ok. I’m not mad.” As the words rolled off my tongue, I knew I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t mad, I was something else. “But I get it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your girlfriend. So maybe I should go.”

“Don’t.”

“And maybe we should keep this as professional as we can. If you need me, you should call Diana. And, uh, yeah, I need to go.” The air was faltering, and I was not going to be able to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down.

I noticed that Diana stopped Harry from following me, which I was incredibly thankful for. I rushed through the room, and barely made it out and into my car before the panic came. 

It was alright. Everything was just fine. 

****

Sofia Welsh died alone, leaving behind 4 ex-spouses, no kids, and 4 cats she was allergic to, Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Mo. The time and manner of her death remain unknown. A neighbor called the police after the stench coming from her house became unbearable. The myth about her cats eating her face was just that, a myth...

I was going to be a tragic story from Hollywood, wasn’t I? Ryan Murphy would lick his fingers just thinking about it. 

****

@H

Baby, are you ok?

****

@H

Sof, I’m worried, please answer. 

****

@D

Are you ok?

Please let me know if I should reschedule your training this week. 

****

@H

I know you’re mad and it’s my fault, but I can explain

Can I go to your house? It feels like you’ve never told me if I’m allowed to. 

****

@Midge

Let’s talk about your idea of going back to college. I think we can get you into a really good one if you’d like. 

Did you like the car I sent you? You haven’t said anything about it. 

****

@D

Where are you?

****

@Sam

Wanna hang out? I'm bored…

Pizza and Hocus Pocus? It is October after all.

****

@Midge

Fenty wants you for their new underwear campaign. I think it’s a good move. Let’s chat on Friday, lunch’s on me. 

****

@D

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, SOFIA? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

DO NOT MAKE ME GO TO YOU HOUSE LOOKING FOR YOU

CAUSE I WILL

****

@Sam

I just called Cat, she told me you haven’t left your room in days, are you ok?

****

@H

I know it’s late, but I can’t fucking sleep until I talk to you.

****

Good, I couldn’t sleep either. 

I wasn’t even sad, I didn’t feel a fucking thing, but in the worst way possible, where everything hurts, but you just cannot point to what hurts the most, so I was stuck there, suffocating and gasping for air like a fucking dying fish.

I kept watching Schitt’s Creek reruns. The colors from the tv show kept blending in and I looked at it for the first time in a while, wondering how many episodes I had “watched” by now. Mostly, I had been staring at the wall, as I tried to be good and quiet, so slumber would finally come to me. And it did, a few times actually, only to be chased off by the dizzying nightmares. 

I knew I had fallen asleep cause sometimes, when I opened my eyes there was food on my bedside table, a steaming bowl of soup, mac and cheese (no milk, no butter, not too much cheese), broccoli and carrots with chicken and hummus, and every other dish that my nutritionist had previously approved. One time there was even a piece of oreo cheesecake, with the gooey chocolate sauce tempting me to eat it right away. Maybe with a scoop of ice cream. 

I didn’t know if I had eaten any of it. I probably hadn’t. 

4 days without sleep can do mean things to your brain. 

***

Sam could read my thoughts, I was sure of it. 

I opened the door to my room and smiled when I saw him, with his boyish smile that made his eyes crinkle and the stupidly deep dimples on his cheek, standing in front of me. He was wearing a nice button-down shirt, black jeans, and a pair of Air Jordans I had gotten him for his birthday, thinking he looked fly as hell. I still thought they were the ugliest shoes I had ever seen, but Sam seemed to love them. He was holding a medium-sized tube of ice cream, and a plate of freshly done and gooey dark chocolate brownies, my favorites. But it was late, and I probably shouldn’t eat any of it if I wanted to have even the smallest chance of sleeping that night

“Hey,” he whispered and I stepped to the side to let him and closed the door behind him.

“You do know I’m on a diet, right?” I asked him. Sam was already taking his shoes off and propping his feet on my bed, to make himself comfortable. 

“We don’t need to tell anyone.”

“So, the calories won’t count?”

“Of course not. They only count if you worry about them.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.” The corner of my lips twisted into a smile and I made my way to sit on my side of the bed. There was a large space between us, and we both settled on, lying on a sea of pillows. Sam put his hands over his tummy and I could see them rising every time he breathed deeply. 

We stayed quiet for a while, while Sam looked for the exact movie he wanted. When he landed on Hocus Pocus, a childish grin curled up his lips and he turned to me as if he was waiting for me to approve his choice. We had watched Hocus Pocus at least 1,000 times since we were kids, just as we had watched every Halloween themed choice ever since, a tradition that we now shared with my mom and Cat.  

“You look handsome,” I told him. The smell of the brownies made my tummy grumble and I finally caved in, picking the corner of it to eat it. It was still warm, and the outside was crunchy, while the inside was gooey and soft. 

“I was supposed to have dinner with Annie.”

“Oh, what happened?” I asked, pretending that it didn’t bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. But sadness fluttered in my tummy and there was nothing I could do to stop it or understand it. 

“You didn’t answer my texts.” Sam turned to me, with a sheepish smile already on his face. “And Diana called me to ask if I had seen you, so I guessed it was serious and came to check on you.”

“Oh...I’m sorry…”

“It’s ok, Sof. At least, I wasn’t the only one you were ignoring this time.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t ignoring you, Sam.”

“Yeah, you were, but it’s alright. I’m guessing I should figure out the answer all by myself.”

“Sam, I…”

I didn’t know what I was going to say. I just started letting the words out of my lips before I could form an actual answer in my brain. But before I could do that, a crashing sound cut me off, and I was up on my feet even before the echo stopped ringing in the air. Sam followed me, running down the stairs just as fast as I was.

Anxiety had my brain working as fast as it could go, and the worst scenarios flashed in front of my eyes: fire, burglars, floodings, and even a tornado, they all took over my brain for a microsecond. So when we finally got to the end of the stairs, I thought my brain was maybe playing tricks on me. 

Harry was crouched on the floor, as he picked up the shards of a green mug. A dark liquid had spilled all over, and Cat was looking down at him, as red as she could get, while my mom muttered rushed excuses to the boy in front of her, helping him get the broken pieces before someone could get hurt.

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to do this,” she assured him, but he just shook his head and smiled, that dashing, fucking pretty smile of his, and handed her the pieces he had collected. “It’s alright,” he said, and I felt my knees wobble at the sound of his voice. It was just as sweet and soothing as I remembered it. “It was my fault anyway, I startled Cat.”

What the fuck was going on?

“Oh, honey, there you are!!” my mom exclaimed as she finally noticed my presence. She was standing next to Harry, wearing a bright yellow cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Her hair was in one of Cat’s braids, a perfect crown around her head. She seemed happy, her cheeks were a little bit flushed and she looked at Harry with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Look who’s here to see you,” my mom said, almost teasingly. “I was about to call you, but Cat had a little accident.”

The culprit was standing by my mom’s side, as quiet as she could be. Her face was still crimson red, and she was looking down at the floor, unwilling to look at us, especially at Harry. Cat was no longer a kid, she was getting as tall as my mom, and she even used some of my clothes, a full teen among us. But it was as if she wanted to make herself as small as she possibly could right now. 

“It was my fault,” Harry mumbled, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on Sam and me, and the fact that we had come down the stairs together, that it was so late at night and I was just wearing pajama shorts and a loose crop top. Any other time, I would have ventured to say that he was jealous. 

“So, Sam, darling, come with me, help me with dessert,” My mom called and Sam obeyed meekly. “I’m guessing you’re staying for dinner, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother…” Harry smiled at my mom and she beamed right back before she looked at me pointedly. I knew exactly what I was supposed to say. 

“You won’t,” I said to her delight. “It’ll be a pleasure,” I added, just for kicks. Harry smiled at Cat and my mom and excused himself before he followed me upstairs. 

“What do you want?” I asked him as soon as we reached my room and we were out of earshot from my family. 

I had never pictured Harry standing in my room, with his graphic t-shirt and his blue jeans. But there he was, gazing around my pink duvet and lavender pillowcases. He looked at the photo on my nightstand, a picture of my mom, Cat, and I, with the Eiffel Tower shining tall behind us. I had taken us to Paris as soon as I had the money to, and we walked around like crazy, pigged out on overpriced macaroons in a fancy store on Champs Elysées, and got back to our fancy hotel rooms completely knackered every night, with our feet swollen from how much we had walked. My dad had taken us to Paris before, but this time we did it as free women...and Cat. I fucking loved that photo. 

“I was worried,” Harry said.

“You didn’t have to worry.”

“You don’t worry because you have to, you worry because you fucking do,” he shrugged. “And you didn’t answer my texts or calls. And I get you’re ignoring me, but…I just wanted to make sure that you were ok.”

“I’m fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest and sat on my bed, refusing to look at him, with that sweet smile of his, and the concerned frown that formed on his forehead. He had no fucking business looking like that. He had no right to make me feel so much. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted your date.”

“It’s ok,” I replied. I didn’t feel like correcting him, because if I did, I might have to accept the fact that I had spent my days weeping about losing him, and that was not necessary at all.

“But uh, D told me we should set a date to end things. I figured I should talk to you first.” 

Set a date. Oh.

I knew that was the logical step to take, so we could move on with our lives. That way Harry could go back to her, and I...well, I could go back to whatever the fuck I was doing before. Setting a date just made it real. 

The smart part of my brain knew that my heart couldn’t break, it couldn’t do that, not out of love. But still, I could feel it breaking into a billion pieces, and the little shards poking around my chest, so it hurt just a little bit more. 

“I think you should talk to D,” I said, short and to the point, because if I talked too much, I was probably going to cry. And by now, I was fucking tired of crying. 

“Why? I’m not in a relationship with Diana. I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.”

“Technically, you’re not in a relationship with me either,” I offered him a small smile, rubbing my hands on my side in a nervous manner. His eyes followed them and he opened up his mouth to say something, but let a sigh out instead and ran his fingers through his already messy hair. 

“Then be my girlfriend, Sof,” he said softly, just as he gazed up to me. His words caught me by surprise, and I looked at him in astonishment. My heart had lodged itself in my throat, and I had to make an effort to take a deep breath. 

“Don’t be unfair, Harry,” I muttered. I wanted to laugh, but it came out like a dry chuckle, too sad and unhappy to fool anyone. “You need to figure things out before you can ask me that.”

“No,” Harry smiled, softly and sweetly, and I felt my heart break again if that was even possible. “And I’m not being unfair, I’m just…” He stopped when he looked at me, and he bit on the corner of his lips, mulling over his words before he let out a heavy sigh. “I sleep better when I’m with you, and whenever you’re not with me, I miss you and I wanna hear your voice. And I know you do too, ‘cause I hold you tight when you’re having those bad dreams, and I wish you would just open up to me and tell me what those are about, cause I fucking worry. And I know I can’t yell or talk too loud to you, because you’ll get scared, and that you like to pretend you’re living a simple life cause you’re scared about losing everything, but you still rehearse your Oscar’s speech in the shower. And I know you will do anything for the people you love, even telling me to go back to my ex, cause you think that’ll make me happy. So, no, I don’t need to figure it out. I want you to give me a chance.”

No words would come out of my mouth. Not even a sound. I looked at Harry with scarily big eyes, I was sure of it, and remained in my spot on the bed. My fingers curled around the covers and I made a ball out of the fabric, only to smooth it out nervously.

“Sof…Look at me.” I did as I was told, looking at Harry in the eye as he got closer to me until he was standing between my legs and I noticed that there were people having sex in his shirt. He crouched in front of me, and his fingers pressed softly to my thighs, burning tiny holes in my skin. My tongue darted to my lips and I closed my eyes when he took my hands in his. His touch felt so right, so calming and lovely. “Talk to me.”

I was trapped in a vicious circle. His presence made my tummy tight, and I wished for nothing more than to kiss him, slowly, lavishly. Hold his hands and let them embrace me. I was hungry for his touch. But I was also fucking scared, so much that it was numbing. I didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings, didn’t have anyone to look up to when it came to them. If I thought about my mom, well, that wasn’t ideal, selfishness and pain, unrequited love, and a toxic relationship. Most of my life I had spent pining over Sam and even that had been a fantasy. And then came Harry, in all of his glory and all of his brightness, with his sweet kisses and the way he made me feel, and it was so easy to let myself fall. But he chose her, even when he didn’t, and I felt like a second choice secured in a transactional agreement. And it made me feel sick. 

But the thought of letting him go made me feel even worse. 

When Cat opened the door, she found us just like that, holding hands and staring at each other as I struggled to come up with words. She cleared her throat because that was the polite thing to do, and I felt relieved to have found a way out. 

What was I supposed to say? I still didn’t have an answer for that. Cause a part of me wanted to jump into his arms, but the other part, the loudest one, was so fucking scared, I wanted to protect her and tell her everything was just fine. 

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, smiling shyly as she closed the door behind her. 

Fuck. 

My mom was expecting me and my boyfriend to come to join them for dinner, even if I had never told her that Harry was my boyfriend. I wouldn’t even know how to start that conversation, if I was being honest, I had never even admitted to my mom that I liked anyone. My feelings were usually in a box, primly tucked away and safe from everyone. They didn’t matter, cause they were usually unrequited, silly and juvenile, not something to make a fuss about. This time was no different, other than the fact that I was willing to shove whatever feelings I had into the deep end of the box, unlabeled and unexplained until I could forget about them.

“Harry... Could I ask for a favor?”

“You need me to pretend everything’s fine?” He said, not missing a beat as I let his hands go to get up from the bed. I picked up the ice cream tube and the plate of brownies, trying to get myself busy so I wouldn’t have to look at him for too long. If I did, I knew that my knees would tremble. 

“Please...I know it’s weird...”

“Sure. It looks like this is the last time I’ll get to see you, so I don’t give a fuck about weird,” Harry shrugged, and his words took a moment to sink in, making me stop and turn to look at him when they finally did.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I didn’t need an answer. Panic was already starting to settle in my bones, making my heart pound so loudly, I could hear the beat. 

“I won’t beg, Sof,” he said simply. He wouldn’t beg and I was a fucking idiot. He didn’t need to add that last part for me to know it was true. A gigantic idiot. 

So, I did the only thing that occurred to me: I got mad. Put the plate and ice-cream down and crossed my arms over my chest as I frowned at him. I looked offended, outraged as if I had the right to be any of those things. 

“But we have a deal, Harry!” I exclaimed and Harry smiled softly at me. He was tired. I was tiring, I knew that. 

“You’re released, Sof. We don’t have to do this anymore.”

“I am a woman of my word, Harry,” I bit, haughtily. “I don’t need to be released. I know you’re in a hurry to rekindle your relationship, but…”

“Oh, fuck off, Sofia,” he cut me off, and I pretty much had to run to keep up with him, as he made his way to the kitchen, where my family was already sitting around the kitchen island. 

Dinner was already served, and plates of pasta and salad were waiting for us. We usually had dinner around the kitchen island, where we had placed six comfortable velvety blue dining chairs, just in case we had any visitors, and I sat in front of Cat and between my mom and Sam if he was around. This time, we were assigned the two seats by the end of the row, right next to Sam. Harry took the spot next to Sam and put his arm on the back of my chair, as he smiled sweetly at me. No one would ever believe that we had been arguing just a few moments before. 

“So, Harry,” my mom said, as she served herself a whole lot of salad, and put almost as much on Cat’s plate. “I’ve been told you’re a singer.”

“I am,” Harry smiled at her, sincerely and warmly. Perhaps he wasn’t used to people not knowing exactly who he was. “I used to be in a band, and now I’m doing my own thing. Have you ever been to a concert, Cat?”

My sister, who was in the middle of biting a huge piece of spinach, was completely taken by surprise by the question, and she put the fork down before gulping largely. Her cheeks were pink and she looked at me for a second, before she looked back at Harry. 

“I went to 1D’s last concert in L.A. Sam took me. Sof was supposed to come with me, but she couldn’t make it,” she said cautiously, readying herself with details in case Harry wanted to check on her story. But Harry looked at me, with a huge grin already curling up his lips. 

“I thought you didn’t know who I was. But you liked me enough to go to one of my concerts, uh?”

Well, that was not exactly what I said. 

“I told you Cat liked your music. And I got the tickets for cheap.” That was definitely not true. They were expensive as fuck, poor little me had to work two shifts forever to pay them up. 

“Oh, c’mon, baby, gimme this,” Harry chuckled and I rolled my eyes, licking my lips and sighing in feigned annoyance before I gave in. 

“I had to save a lot because back then I was a waitress, and I was trying to become an actress and go to college, so every penny counted. But, it didn’t matter, cause Cat and I wanted to go to that concert. That day, I, uh, I worked a day-long shift, cause I was taking the next day off, and I had gotten a call for a really small part in a movie, and they wanted to shoot that afternoon. They told me that I would be in and out in an hour, cause they just wanted to reshoot a small scene, and it had to be quick, but the actress was so drunk, she could barely stand, much less say her lines, so we had to do about 1,000 takes, and we were there forever. So I couldn’t make it to the concert, but, uh, the director told me I was a real champ, and she called me for her next movie, and...here I am…”

“So, I could’ve met you all those years ago,” Harry told me, a small, sweet and sincere smile spreading on his lips. 

“Oh, no, we didn’t have backstage tickets,” I shook my head and laughed, cocking my head to the side as Harry took my hand in his and laced our fingers on top of the counter. 

“I would’ve noticed you in the crowd,” Harry insisted. “You and Cat would have been the prettiest girls in the crowd, I wouldn’t have been able to take my eyes off of you, baby.”

Cat blushed up to her ears. My mom smiled delightedly. I rolled my eyes. 

I would’ve kissed him. I should have kissed him. 

“He is charming,” my mom said, reminding us that they were still there. “And he knows what to say.”

Harry didn’t let my hand go until we started eating and even then, his hand rested on my thigh, the bare skin of my legs covered with goosebumps. I forgot about everything else, about his question and my fears, and I allowed myself to enjoy dinner, and the warmth of the room, and the comfort of Harry’s touch. I felt sleepy and full, and I leaned to him, pressing my forehead to his shoulder as I sighed. He was sweet and familiar, and he was so close that I could press my lips to the curve of his neck. 

I was too satisfied, so much that I could almost ignore the scowl on Sam’s face.

“Harry, would you like to join us to watch a movie?” My mom asked as we finished eating, and after Harry insisted on helping with the dishes. Cat and I were sharing a brownie, while Sam seemed to be incredibly interested in whatever was happening on his phone. “We like to watch Halloween movies in October, and Sam and Sof were watching Hocus Pocus, but I think we could give The Witches a chance tonight. Or maybe Halloweentown.”

“I don’t think I’ve watched any of those,” Harry said, going back to his place next to me and stealing a piece of my brownie.  

“Oh, my God! How could you not have watched The Witches or Halloweentown?” I asked, appalled by the information. 

“I don’t think I have, no.”

“We can no longer be friends, Harry.” 

This made him smile mischievously, and a shiver ran up my spine as he looked at me, leaning back until I could feel his warm breath fanning over my skin. “It’s a good thing we’re not just friends, then,” Harry whispered and my skin covered with goosebumps when his lips softly brushed mine, and he kissed me lightly before he pulled away. 

I was hot red, I was sure of it, I could feel the heat surging from my face, and Harry was enjoying it. His lips were still curled in a wicked smile, which got bigger as Sam looked away from us. 

We didn’t have a proper movie room as Harry did. But we had a ridiculously big TV screen and a comfortable couch full of pillows and blankets, where we usually cuddled up to each other and watched movies and ate pizza. So we went there, and my mom offered a velvety blue blanket to Harry and me, so we could share it. Cat brought popcorn, M&M, sorted nuts, and lemonade, and settled them in the large coffee table in front of the couch, so we could serve ourselves. 

I don’t think I made it to half of the movie before I fell asleep, cuddled up to Harry’s chest, and with his arms looped around my waist. It was easy to do, much easier than when I was by myself. I was lulled by his breathing, and by the lovely warmth of his body. I could feel the rumbles of his chest whenever he talked, and the sweet brush of his lips when he pressed soft kisses on top of my head. 

So when the movie came to an end and we had to get up, my body refused to let him go, and I kept our fingers intertwined as I leaned into his hug. I made him wait until everyone went to their room, as we laid on the couch, cuddled up to each other. 

“Stay,” I whispered as soon as we were alone. I couldn’t see Harry’s face, cause my mom had a whole thing about leaving lights on, but I knew he was looking at me, his whole attention focused on that tiny word. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we don’t have to do anything...I just...I’m having nightmares…”

“And you want me to cuddle you to chase them away?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’ll stay,” he replied and I nodded, cause there was no need to say anything else. 

****

I didn’t have nightmares. Not one. I slept through the night. 

But this was not a typical morning with him. Usually, I would wake up to his kisses, softly pressed to my shoulders, my forehead, my nose, my lips, everywhere he could reach. Usually, he liked to play in the morning, if time allowed. 

It was different this time. He had already woken up and was on his phone. Sleep was still etched on his eyes, and he rubbed them lightly, with a little pout on his lips. He was shirtless, and the sheets were pooling around his waist, and even though I knew he had boxers on, black, tight, fucking inviting, it almost seemed like he was naked. I felt like a creepy intruder. 

“Hi,” I mumbled, bringing the sheets up to my chest as I turned to my side to look at him. Sitting like he was, I could focus on his profile, the sharp edges of his jaw, the couple of freckles that adorned his face, and the way his nostrils flared up a bit around the pointy tip. I liked it when he smiled, but that seemed like a lot to ask under the circumstances. 

“Hey,” Harry replied, putting his phone down on his lap to look down at me. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah...thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He asked, chuckling lightly and looking at me with curiosity. 

“For staying,” I said earnestly. “You were right, I do sleep better when you’re around. How about you?”

“I hadn’t slept in 3 or 4 days. I slept through the night yesterday.”

“That’s inconvenient, isn’t it?” 

“What is?”

“That I can only sleep when I’m next to you,” I said in a low breath, lying on my back to avoid looking at him. I didn’t say ‘we’, I didn’t want to assume, or have him correct me and tell me he slept just fine without me. That he had plenty of choices, he was going to survive me. 

“It is,” Harry replied quietly. He looked at his hands for a second, remaining quiet as he gnawed on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to leave?” He asked and I didn’t even need to think about it to know the answer. No, I didn’t want him to leave. It almost looked like he belonged right there, in my room, in my bed, spending his morning with me.

“I think my mom expects you to stay for breakfast, would you mind?”

“No. But that’s not what I asked, Sof. Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes,” I replied in a low voice. Harry nodded and didn’t say another word, but he visibly relaxed and let himself sink a little bit further into the covers, getting closer to me as he did so. I relaxed as well, just now noticing how tense and stiff I was, almost as if I was holding my breath, gauging if I had to run or if I could stay. It was out of habit, the survival instinct kicking in. I wasn’t afraid, though, I knew what fear felt like. 

“So, I’m the first boy you bring home...” he said teasingly, and this time he gifted me with the hint of a mischievous smile. 

“I didn’t bring you home, you came all by yourself.”

“I needed to know you were alright, I was going a bit crazy. And you asked me to stay, and that’s kind of the same thing, innit?”

“Yes, it is. So far, you’re the only person that’s ever mattered enough.”

“So far?”

“Well, once you leave, I’m gonna have to move on, don’t you think?”

Harry rolled to his side until he was lying next to me, and if I turned my head, our noses could almost touch. The air got hotter, and the fiery tension grew around us as I looked at him. His skin looked so tan against the pastel colors of my sheets, and his wicked smile made me shiver all the way down to my curling toes. 

“I’ve already asked you to be my girlfriend, Sof. I don’t know what else you want from me. Do you want me to swear I will adore you? Cause I can do that.”

“I just want you to be happy, H,” I said. I turned my face and looked at the ceiling, just in case I would cry. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not with me. And I’m pretty sure your heart's not in it.”

“I don’t think it’s fair you get to say where my heart is, Sof.”

“I know. But I’m sure you’re gonna thank me.”

“You’re fucking impossible, Sofia,” Harry grunted and I nodded, cause there was nothing he could say to me that I hadn’t already told myself. I bit my bottom lip and grabbed his hand in mine, with barely enough pressure for him to feel my touch, but still, so he could pull it away if he wanted to. I was hoping he wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I said. “Please, don’t go. Not yet.”

****

Harry requested my presence every day that week. Most of the time, there weren’t paps around, not even one. Sometimes, we spent time in his house, or Jeff’s, and no one could see us, other than a small group of his friends or his band. 

Diana called it an organic outing, where we relied mostly on candid pictures taken by unsuspecting people. It was better, she said, because it made it seem like a real thing, and not like a desperate attempt to call attention by calling the paps on yourself. She said people could usually tell. 

Harry didn’t really need me, and that night it wasn’t any different, but there I was, smiling to his friends and sitting on a pile of pillows, while I listened to Alexa Chung as she told me about the many times she had seen him naked “by accident”.

There was plenty of food, I had made sure of it, I had put together different tapas and bowls. Whatever I could not get in Harry’s fridge, I ordered and hid the packaging away, which made it seem like I could make sushi and that Harry was enough of an adult to have enough things in his fridge to make a small plate with hummus, pita, and some olives and a really nice cheese board and even mini-sliders that I had made out of scratch (and brioche buns that I had found in a fancy bakery around Harry’s house). It wasn’t all that pretty, and I was sure my mom would be disappointed by my hosting abilities, but I managed, and that’s what matters.

I couldn’t stop stealing looks at Harry, and smile whenever I found him already looking at me. He looked like a fucking Disney prince, with dark, curly hair and emerald eyes. His tattooed arms only added to his charm, the way his ink spilled skin looked against the crispy white of his shirt. 

It had been 9 days, 13 hours, and a few minutes since we had last kissed.

His arms were probably my favorite part of his body. Or maybe it was his thighs, or his eyes and the way they glinted mischievously when they looked at me. Perhaps, my favorite part was his dimples and their simple stubbornness, shining through his cheeks even when he tried to maintain a serious expression. I was also very fond of his lips and his sweet taste when he kissed me. He was fucking glorious and he knew it. 

I had lost count on how many beers I had had already. Maybe 3, but they could easily be 5. I wasn’t much of a drinker. My vision was already blurry and I let my body sway from side to side as I watched everyone enjoy the food and the alcohol we had served. It was a birthday party but I still had no fucking idea who was I supposed to congratulate, so I just smiled stupidly at everyone, just in case. It seemed like my safest bet. 

Harry took his time to join my little group. He was happy when he did so, and he sat next to me, draping his right arm around my shoulders. I took that as an opportunity to get closer to him, leaning back to his chest as I molded myself to his body. Harry’s hand dropped to my waist and went under my shirt, the warmth of his fingertips making me smile as he pinched my skin between them. He giggled and for a second I couldn’t breathe, I liked him so much. 

Harry hadn’t asked again and I hadn’t given him an answer, and it surrounded us like a heavy fog that didn’t allow us to see any further than our own noses, not even each other. I could feel it in the last couple of days when he would barely talk to me when we were alone and most of our interactions were reserved for other people. But it felt nice to spend some time with him, and I took whatever I could get. I was the one that fucked up, anyway. 

But tonight, it almost felt real, we were us, and I could enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing richness of his voice. 

“Alexa’s telling me about the time you went skinny-dipping in Italy,” I told him. “But I’m not sure I want to hear any more stories about her and my naked boyfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Sugar,” Alexa smiled, looking at Harry and then at me as if she was confirming her statement before making it. “He’s all yours.”

Oh, Sugar had lots to worry about. Her stupidity most of all.

“You should try it,” he whispered, as his friends fell into a comfortable chat and they forgot about us. 

“Getting naked in front of other people?”

“It’s quite liberating,” Harry smiled and I turned to look at him, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. 

“I don’t know, it sounds like one of those things that’s a lot more fun when you’re with someone else. So, I’d have to find someone to want to get naked with me first.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding someone to join you,” he told me and I shook my head in response. 

“Mmmm, maybe, but I don’t want someone else,” I whispered. 

If he had something to say, I didn’t get to hear it. We looked at each other for a moment, remaining silent as we did so. We knew better than to have this conversation while surrounded by so many people.

3 hours later, we were finally alone. I was trying to tidy up around the house while Harry talked to his few last guests and walked them to their Lyfts. Once they left, and no one was able to see me, I would be free to go as well, to my empty bed and my recurring nightmares.

We weren’t spending our nights together, and I missed him terribly. 

“Sof?” I heard his voice before I could see him. He was smiling softly at me, and I stood there, in the middle of his living room, just looking at him as he made his way to me. 

“Sorry,” I said with a lopsided smile, one that gave away the slight buzz of alcohol that still ran through my veins. “I’ll leave...” But Harry was still smiling when he took my hand, and I felt the electricity that vibrated out of his skin. It felt like a game, following him around the house until we reached the pool. It was a chilly night.

Harry let my hand go as he went to take his shirt off. His tanned skin glimmered under the moonlight and I let myself enjoy his taut body, taking notice of every tattoo that adorned his skin. I was almost done counting them when Harry took his jeans off, followed by his black boxers. 

He was naked, completely so, and I could only stare at him as if it was the very first time I had seen him like that. I was drinking him, devouring his naked body with my eyes as if it were the last time I got to see it. And maybe it was. 

“Are you gonna let me get naked alone, baby?” Harry teased and I saw him as he dove into the pool, splashing around like a cannonball. It was only then that I reacted, my fingers flying to my lace shirt to pull it off over my head and letting my boyfriend jeans fall to my ankles. 

Harry stared at me from the pool, smirking as he watched me unhook my bra and pull my panties off and kick them so they joined the rest of my clothes. I was way more careful than him when I got into the pool and I waded to him, standing there with a shy smile as I shivered from the cold water. 

So this was skinny dipping. 

We didn’t talk, because doing so would mean that we would have to stop kissing, and I didn’t want that. I was the first one to give in, crashing my lips to his and hooking my legs around his hips as his hands settled on my waist. It was a fucking good kiss, one that made me shiver down my spine and sigh against his lips as the taste of them flooded my mouth. 

The water swayed us, and I could feel his naked skin against mine, my chest squeezed against him, and his cock pressed against my center. 

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Harry whispered, and his words grazed over my skin, at the same time he trailed sweet kisses down my jaw, my neck, my collarbones. If I let him go, just a bit, he would have been able to continue his way down my body, but I wanted to kiss him more, just to make up for all of the kisses I had missed already. 

So, I kissed him slowly and smiled clumsily every time Harry would kiss me harder, igniting a fire in the depths of my tummy, that made me press myself closer to him, so I could feel every inch of his body against mine.

Harry moved us easily to the end of the pool, and I huffed down as I felt the cold tiles. My nails raked over his skin and I allowed myself to break the kiss apart, only so Harry could continue kissing down my neck, licking and nibbling on my skin to his delight. The cold air of the night made me shiver and I threw my head back, as a bubble of bliss pressed tighter between my legs. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry smiled and I felt myself buzz with happiness. 

“You’re the fucking gorgeous one, baby,” I whispered. My fingers had nestled on the nape of his neck and I played with the wet ends of his hair, while my nose bumped against his. “Fuck me right here, would ya?”

“Are you in a hurry, Sof?” He laughed. My cheeks felt hot and I looked away, focusing on a lawn chair that was by the far end of the pool. 

“Well, I know I might regret it if we don’t do it. But you’re right, it’s probably a silly idea.”

“I never said that. Don’t let your head tell you that, baby. And by the way, I love it when you call me baby.”

We kissed some more, slowly and hungrily, because I wanted to and because we could. 

We had all the time in the world. 

Harry squeezed my ass and pressed us closer, as his hips rocked against mine, as the water swayed us. He licked and sucked on my nipples, and smirked with every new moan that elicited from my throat. 

“Now you’re just torturing me,” I said. Harry smiled. It was true. 

“I’ll behave.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to behave,” I smirked. Lust flashed in his eyes and he offered me a grin that made my tummy bubble. “Make it worth the drive home while all soaked.”

“I was hoping you’d stay. Help me sleep better tonight.”

“That’s the only reason you want me to stay?”

“I have a few others…”

“Well, as long as you need me.”

It wasn’t long before we were in the room next to the pool. His skin was cold, and little beads of water ran down our bodies. His fingers tangled in my wet hair, and I stepped closer, feeling his chest against mine as his fingers trailed down my spine. There wasn’t much space between us, so I could feel him, his hard cock pressing against my tummy. 

His eyelashes were long and a bit curled, and they fluttered for a couple of seconds as he closed his eyes, giving in to the feeling of my touch. I wondered how it felt for him, as my fingers wrapped around his cock and I squeezed it lightly.

“You’re hard,” I stated, with a mocking smile curling up my lips. He was, and he grunted deeply in acknowledgment. “What are we gonna do about that?”

“I told you, I have a couple of ideas,” Harry replied, his voice low and slow, laced with lust. “And I need you for all of them.”

Harry brushed his lips over my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it. My whole body was covered with goosebumps, and my smile faltered, as I became aware of his presence next to me. Everything was heightened, his fingertips running down my bare tummy while he pressed just another kiss on the curve of my neck. “You know what I want to do when we fuck?” He said. His words made me shiver, and I looked at him, drinking every word of his. 

“What?” I asked in a whisper, leaning closer to him as a fiery need grew in my tummy. I wanted to kiss him, a hungry kiss that would leave us both breathless. I wanted to bite him and lick him, just to taste him. Just that thought clouded my mind. 

Harry didn’t answer and he didn’t need to, cause his hand had found its way between my legs. I allowed him to, gasping at the coldness of his fingers against my warm skin. It felt so good. So deliciously good. 

“I always think about you sucking me off,” he said, and his finger slid down my slit, teasingly. “I love the way you look at me when you do it.” I couldn’t look away from him, at his pouty lips and the way his green eyes turned darker and darker. It was like it reflected my lust, and I could see the fire that was starting to consume my thoughts grow in his eyes. 

“Maybe I would even make you sit on my face while you suck me off, baby, would you like that?” Harry asked, pressing a soft kiss on my neck that contrasted with the deepness of his voice. It was so rich, like honey and chocolate, and it made me melt inside, slowly stripping away any doubts that held me back. 

“I would.”

I let go of my lip before it would bleed, and let my tongue soothe the sore spot. With his eyes still on me, Harry let one of his fingers slide down my entrance, seeing how wet I was starting to get for him. He dipped the tip of his finger and teased my entrance with slow circles. If I moved, if I rocked my hips at the rhythm he was dictating, he would thrust the tip of his finger in, and I felt a slight burn in my walls. 

“And then I’d lick that pretty pussy of yours, baby. Get you all wet for me.” I was wet, he could feel it. He slowly let more of his finger in, and he thrust it slowly, looking at me as I parted my lips to inhale sharply. My walls clenched around his finger and Harry smiled widely, adding the tip of a second finger to the pressure between my walls. 

“Fuck.”

“I would eat you out until you came on my tongue,” he continued as if he wasn’t doing enough already. “Would you like to cum for me, baby?”

his cock, large and throbbing, gliding between my folds, getting wet, and slick with my juices, hitting my clit with its dripping tip. I wanted to feel that pressure, my walls clenched just at the thought. 

“I want you to sit on my cock, I want to bite your neck and your tits and play with them while you ride me. You can decide how fast you want to go, baby, how deep you want me.” His voice was just as slow, a secret between the two of us. 

He had stopped moving his fingers in me, and focused instead on my clit, spreading my folds as his thumb drew circles on the little bud. My fingers were trembling, just as my tummy was, as I stroked his cock between them. I could feel him in all of his fucking glory. It was selfish of me, cause I wanted his attention on me, even when I knew he needed me. His throbbing cock told me as much.  

“I wanna taste you,” I whispered. “Can I? Please.”

Harry kissed me before he said anything else, his hot mouth demanding everything I had, he wanted it all for himself. So I kissed him back, cause that was all I wanted to do. Because even if I repeated to myself that I would get over him, deep in my soul, I knew that I would always want more. Just like him, I wanted it all. 

I went faster, pumping him in my hand and letting my fingers brush over his swollen tip every time. Harry grunted, and kissed me harder, sucking on my bottom lip until I moaned, loud enough for it to echo down my body. 

I wanted to get on my knees right there, but he had a different idea and guided us blindly to the bed, where he sat and I stood between his legs, being observed by him with a devilish smile. 

“Go on, then,” he said. 

I got on my knees, pressing my fingers to his bare thigh before I grabbed his cock in my hand, holding him while I licked a bold stripe from his base to his tip and let my tongue swirl around his tip before I sucked lightly on it. Harry whimpered, at the same time that my eyes met his. Just for him to see, I kissed his length with soft, slow, and wet kisses, my tongue licking on the skin sloppily.

A sharp breath got caught in his throat when I took him in my mouth and pressed my tongue to the shaft of his cock, bobbing my head down as I tried to take as much as I could of him. Harry was thick, even I could tell that, and he felt deliciously heavy on my tongue, his sweet taste almost exhilarating. 

“Fuck, baby, get on the bed.”

I almost refused, cause it all felt so fucking good, but I obeyed, popping him out of my mouth long enough for me to climb on the bed and kneel beside him. Harry didn’t waste any time. His lips attached to my nipple, sucking on it while his hand gripped to the back of my thigh, sliding up until he could brush his fingertips over my soaked slit. Harry licked the other nipple, at the same time his fingers slid between my folds and he thrust two of them in, while his thumb pressed to my clit. 

He was distracting me, to say the least, and heat pooled in my lower tummy, pulsing quickly as Harry pumped his fingers inside me and massaged my throbbing clit. My hand went to the back of his head, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, while the other tried blindly to grab his cock. 

“Harry, please,” I begged. My breaths were shallow, and my stomach quivered quickly, feeling tight as the pressure between my legs grew to a pulsing fire. “I wanna suck you off, baby. I want you to cum in my mouth, yeah?”

I could feel him smile against my skin, and he let my nipple go, peering up to me to offer me a smirk. Go on, his eyes said, and I bent down and sucked lightly on the tip of his cock. It was swollen pink, and I could taste the salty drops that gathered there. I wrapped my fingers around his base, and I squeezed a little, before I started to pump his cock in my hand, as I sucked on his tip and let my tongue press flat to his shaft to bob down just slightly. 

If I looked up, I could see his bleary eyes and the way his mouth hung slightly open. Our eyes met and it was then that he started to work his fingers again on me, thrusting his fingers in my wet center slowly, while his thumb played lazily with my clit. 

I closed my eyes, cause my walls were clenching and my stomach quivered, deliciously, blissfully. You surrender control over your own body for just a couple of seconds, letting the other person tip you over the edge, as they please. 

“Fuck,” I whimpered. It was the only thing I managed to say, because Harry put his free hand on the back of my head, and pushed my face down lightly, so I would take more of him. 

“Fuck, baby…” Harry moaned in a strangled whisper. “Fuck, Sof…”

I didn’t know what I was doing, so I chose to be sloppy, to moan and show him just how much I was enjoying it. Harry’s hips bucked up and I gagged a little bit, digging my nails in the meaty part of his thighs as he rocked them and his fingers went faster and rougher on me. I could feel that edge coming, the bliss that started in the lower part of my stomach and pushed down to my legs, so everything felt tighter every time my walls clenched, and that took over my legs and ran down to my feet to make my toes curl. I was unable to talk, my body could barely keep focused enough for me to keep touching him, 

Harry’s stomach tensed, and the muscles of his legs flexed and he tipped his head back as his high hit him. I could feel his taste flooding my senses, and I kept sucking the tip of his cock and stroked him with a tight hold, helping him ride his pleasure for a little longer. His bliss came in waves, and he smiled as he pulled my hair back, the thrust of his fingers becoming just as lazy and slow as the rocking of his hips into my mouth. 

Harry dropped to the bed when he came down from his high. His hot skin was clammy and his breaths heaved on his chest, but he looked at peace and happy, and he barely opened his eyes when I straddled him and kissed his neck softly. I looked him in the eyes and felt the heat of his skin against mine. His fingertips were brushing my leg, making their way up to the round of my ass to settle there. I kissed him once more, on the lips this time, and shuffled away from him, ready to leave the room and pick up my clothes that were still bunched up in a pile next to the pool. 

“Love?” Harry said and I turned to look at him, still lying on the bed. “Come back to bed.”

****

Nashville was certainly a new city to add to my ever-growing list of cities I should come back to later and give myself a chance to know. But it was all a whirlwind, we went from the airport to the hotel, so Harry wouldn’t be seen. It was a surprise, after all. 

Harry had asked me to come with him to Nashville, or well, he had asked Diana, who had agreed for both of us. He had a few meetings there, and he was planning to join his friend Kacey Musgraves in closing her concert in the Bridgestone Arena. I had no idea what that was, and I was pretty sure I had never heard any of her songs before, but it felt like a big thing, but I found it very exciting. It was the first time I had an actual chance to see Harry do his own thing. 

But if I felt as if we had gone back to normal, I was sorely mistaken. 

I had gone back to my house after that night because it felt like the safest thing to do and because Sam had called me, to let me know that my mom had one of her migraines after she had seen someone had been lurking around the house. She was sure it was my dad. She was now in her room, he said, feeling indisposed. I didn’t tell Harry that, he didn’t need to know, I just rushed home after talking to Sam. 

Harry hadn’t asked me to stay or tried to contact me in any way. He hadn’t even taken my calls. I wondered if he was expecting me to make a grand gesture. Or maybe, he was bored the night of the party and had gotten his fun already. I wasn’t sure of which one was it, and so the fear was paralyzing. 

“You hungry?” Diana asked on our way to the hotel. We were all riding in the same car, Jeff, Harry, Diana and I, and Diana was sandwiched between the two of us. She was asking me, but I took my time to answer, wondering how long it had been since I had a full meal. The last one I could remember was having lunch with Harry on a Friday, the same day his Lights Up video came out. We ate burgers because I was about to start my diet, and I needed to say a proper goodbye to food.

I had barely eaten after that day. I had barely slept. It was hard to do any of those things when you’re empty inside. 

“No.”

Harry looked at me for what felt like the first time that day. Maybe he was now just remembering that I had told him I wasn’t hungry when he offered to make breakfast for the two of us, or that I hadn’t eaten anything while we were with his friends. 

I looked away from him and to the city that was in front of us. 

It was almost night already, and I knew I couldn’t go out to walk around because that would mean potentially ruining Harry’s surprise. Harry and I were supposed to share a room, but it didn’t seem like he was willing to share his bed with me, so I was mentally ready to sleep on the couch (he was the one that needed a good night rest after all), and watch The Crown all night long. If Harry came out, I could pretend to be asleep.

We couldn’t get fast enough to the hotel, I felt like I was suffocating in the car.

I was wearing a black hoodie, a bit large on me, with the letters TPWK embroidered in rainbow colors over the left side, a pair of leggings, and red converses. I had makeup on, a light beat consisting of tinted moisturizer, cream blush, cream highlighter, mascara, and sheer gloss over a pink nude lipstick, that Diana had insisted on putting on during the flight. My eyebrows were done, and I had even gone through the effort of putting an array of fake freckles on my face. This way, if someone saw me, I was officially wearing Harry’s merch, looking flawless and effortless, as if I was born looking like that. 

My hair, on the other hand, needed Jesus, so I had put it in a tight bun that was surely going to give me a headache. 

Harry and I got ahead, getting to the elevator as Diana and Jeff stayed behind, discussing our remaining outings before we ended things. By early January Harry would be a free man, free to get with whoever he wanted. 

That didn’t hurt, not at all. 

The ride in the elevator was silent. Harry leaned the weight of his body against the mirror wall, looking at his phone and biting his bottom lip as he did so. I twisted my fingers and waited impatiently for us to reach our floor. 

I was suffocating. 

On the tenth floor, the elevator opened its doors and two girls looked wide-eyed at us. They were frozen and their eyes jumped from Harry to me, and I was sure they wanted to pinch us, just to see if we were real. I stepped to Harry’s side and beckoned them to get in. My fingers brushed Harry’s hand and heat ran down my body. I peered up at him, but it didn’t seem like the same had happened to him. The girls snickered and kept throwing obvious glances at us, which felt a lot better than straight-up ogling. It had happened to me. It was never nice. 

We finally got to our floor and we flashed a smile to the girls before hopping out of it. The screams rang in the air as soon as the doors closed behind us, and I prayed that they wouldn’t jump in there, but honestly, they probably did. 

Harry opened the door to a large suite, with window walls that allowed us to see the city. The room had a large grey-blue couch, filled with blue and white pillows, a guest bathroom, and a small studio area, with a white desk and a hanging lamp over it. On top of it, there was a small library, with a few books about the city’s music and food. There was a door to the room, and I peeked into it when Harry opened it, and I got to see the king-sized bed and a blue velvet armchair. The door to the inner bathroom was opened and I could see that there was a large tub in it, as well as a ridiculously big shower. 

I put my things on the couch and sat on it looking out at the city as Harry went into the room. What should I watch on Netflix? Maybe I should just browse Amazon Prime, I was going to be one of their stars pretty soon. I picked one of the pillows on the couch and pursed my lips in disappointment when I realized it was a bit too stiff. I already knew I wasn’t going to sleep that night, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be comfortable. I also needed at least one blanket. So I got up and went to the room, as Harry went into the bathroom. He had pulled some clothes out, a pair of jeans, black boxers, and a lace shirt, and placed them over the bed. I stared at them and my feet only agreed to move when I heard Harry’s footsteps coming into the room. I bolted to the head of the bed, picking one pillow and pressing it to my chest before I looked at him. 

“What are you doing?” He asked and I blushed in response. 

“I, uh, I need a pillow. Are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’m having dinner with Kace.”

“Oh…”

He wasn’t inviting me, why would he? Everything went so well just a few nights ago, what had happened? How had he got tired of me so fast?

“Why would you need a pillow?” Harry asked, being kind enough to ignore my bleary eyes. It wasn’t intentional, and I looked away, shuffling between the sheets as I pretended that I was looking for something else. 

“It’s cold in the living room,” I explained. 

“So?”

“I’m sleeping there. You have a big day tomorrow, and I have nightmares. Don’t wanna be a bother.”

Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He picked up the clothes from the bed and walked to the bathroom, leaving me alone in the room. I rushed to get the blanket and got out. 

Now I wasn’t just suffocating, it hurt to breathe and tears spilled out of my eyes without my permission. I cleaned them off my face, and sat on the couch, turning the TV on as loud as I could so Harry wouldn’t hear me struggle to breathe. 

I don’t know what I was expecting or why I had agreed to come. I had my answer: He was bored and ready to get rid of me. 

Silly heart, don’t worry, it’ll get better. Someday. It had to. I could stop planning my big confession, there was no need for it. 

Harry smelled fresh and clean when he got out of the room, and his perfume lingered in the air. I barely lifted my eyes to look at him, pretending to be too focused on the movie I had on. I didn’t know which one it was, but it was noisy, and that checked all of the boxes I needed right then. 

“Don’t wait up,” Harry said on his way out, and I nodded. I was thankful for the numbness. “And Sof? You should eat something. Please.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said, looking up at him. He looked gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. His hair was swept back, which didn’t mean much, cause as soon as it had the opportunity, it was going to fall over his forehead. There was a white shirt under the lace one, and I could see the wing of the sparrow. Harry nodded and pursed his lips, but said nothing, closing the door behind him as he left. 

I wasn’t hungry. 

I had confirmed I had lost him about a week ago, before the birthday party. I wasn’t stupid. Something had shifted between us. So, every day, after I got home, I told my mom I had already eaten, and got to my bedroom, staring at the wall while I hoped to sleep that night. Every time, I woke up in the middle of the night, after just a few hours, or even minutes of rest, with my mouth open and my heart racing, screaming internally, after I violently shifted in my bed. The nightmares were many, some of them about my past, and some about my future. In two weeks, I had only slept twice through the night, both when Harry was in my bed. 

Tonight wasn’t going to be any different, so there was no point in trying. 

****

@FionaB @harrystyles is the most charming man I’ve ever met! 

He just asked me to join him for a drink and if I was staying in a nearby hotel! 

@ThisisHanna For real? You’re so lucky!

@commonclown Wait, isn’t he dating @sofwelshdlr?

@FionaB @commonclown is he? He didn’t seem to remember, lol

@juliawhite @sofwelshdlr look at this!

@TracyB oh, please, girl, you’re lying 🤥 

@brokendoll pics or it didn’t happen.

@FionaB @brokendoll of course I didn’t take pics! I was too busy flirting with Harry Styles!! 🤣

****

Harry got back at 1:46 in the morning and I pretended to be asleep when he checked on me. He turned the tv off, and took my phone out of my hands to put it on the coffee table, and rearranged the blanket around me, to tuck me in better. I could feel the beer and the vodka in his breath. 

He went to his bedroom and closed the door. 

****

I slept from around 4:35 to 6:07 am, when I sat on the couch and stared at the city. I had taken my shirt off, and was in a sports bra and a pair of black shorts, with fuzzy socks that didn’t match anything. I had a cup of coffee in my hands, black with sugar, and I enjoyed the warmth of it against my fingers. It felt nice. 

“You do know coffee does not replace breakfast, right?” Harry asked, I turned to look at him, he was shirtless and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, that hung a little too low on his hips. His hair was messy and his lips were pouty, still swollen from sleep. 

“I’ve been told.”

“We should eat waffles and fried chicken,” he offered with a smile, serving himself a cup of coffee that I had left for him. 

“I’m not…”

“Hungry, I know.” He said, too tired to have that conversation. I almost felt like apologizing. Harry sat on the couch, holding his cup of coffee as he looked at me. It wasn’t a lustful look or even a charming one. He was inspecting me. I looked awful, he shouldn’t do that. “Why are you up so early?”

“I wanted to talk to my mom before she started her shift at the hospital. She didn’t answer.”

“How is your family? Your mom, Cat, Sam?”

There was an edge in his voice as he mentioned Sam’s name, but I chose to let it go, shrugging my shoulders as I replied with a laconic “They’re fine.” I was too focused on the way he was looking at me, and I sat on the couch to stop him from staring at me any further. 

“Can I go to rehearsals with you?” I asked, redirecting the conversation to a better place. I was hoping to spend the day with him, maybe even watch him eat the damn waffles and fried chicken. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. And Kace wants to meet you, she wants to know if Chris Evans is a good kisser,” he said and I smiled brightly, like a child that had had her wish come true. So easy to please. 

My phone buzzed right next to Harry, and he looked down at it as I went to pick it up. He probably noticed Sam’s name flashing on the screen. I jumped up on my feet and avoided Harry’s eyes as I answered the call, turning to the window to continue looking at the city. 

“Hey, Sam,” I said. 

“Hi, sorry to call you so early,” I heard him say. There was a nervous hint on his voice, too bright and smiley, even miles away. It made me nervous, heightened my senses as I waited for the blow. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.”

“The nightmares?”

“I didn’t let them come.”

“Oh, yes, that is a very sensible solution, not sleeping at all.” 

“Sam…”

“I’m sorry,” he smiled. I could see him, blushing and looking down at the floor as he realized he was rambling. He always did so when he didn’t want to deliver bad news. “It’s just that...well, remember that man I told you about? The one that was lurking around your house?”

Fuck. 

“Yes, I do.” My heart had already stopped, knowing what was to come. 

“Well, it was your dad. He came last night, your mom opened the door.”

“Oh.” Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Cat told me she paralyzed, Sof, I’m sorry. He told them that he was going to ask for Cat’s full custody. Your mom has been in her room ever since, and Cat asked me to come and spend the night, just in case.”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Ok,” I said in a calm voice, even though I was fully panicking inside. “So, what do you think?”

“That you need to move.”

“Ok, so we’ll look for a house when I get back. We can move as soon as we find one,” I told Sam. I was already running scenarios in my mind, picturing a fully armed guard posted by my door 24/7. Too harsh? Maybe. Unnecessary? I wasn’t sure. Electric wiring came to mind as well. 

“Yes, that sounds like a great plan. And I’m really sorry, Sof.”

“Thank you, Sam, for everything,” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up and sighed, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes for a second before I turned around. My family was safe, I was safe. Everything was ok.

I turned to look at Harry, who had gotten up from the couch and gone to stand by the little “kitchen” counter. One couldn’t cook in there, but there were a coffee machine and cups and little plates, and Harry’s cup was already on it. He was looking at me, with such visceral eyes that I shuddered. 

“I was thinking…” he said. “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to come to rehearsal.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I didn’t have enough energy to even ask why. The air was too heavy and I could suddenly feel it weighing down my shoulders. I didn’t feel like being alone all morning. I needed Harry more than I had ever needed him before. “It’s ok. Can I still go to the concert? I was looking forward to seeing you perform.”

“Whatever you want,” Harry shrugged in response.

****

The venue was packed. I don’t know why that surprised me. 

The room was vibrating with excitement, and joyful chatter and I bobbed my head to the sound of the music. Kacey was already on stage, and I could see her in a little monitor, looking gorgeous with her pink outfit. It was pretty much like a movie set, people running around and shouting while she performed as if everything was perfect. 

Harry was getting ready, but he had barely acknowledged my presence since I got there, so it wasn’t like he was going to talk to me anyway. 

Once Harry walked to the stage, I was supposed to sit in a VIP booth, secluded from the crowd, but visible enough so people would notice me. 

I had considered the possibility of not coming. I had spent most of the day by myself, walking around the vicinity of the hotel, so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy. So I wouldn’t have to think about Harry, or my dad, or my mom, or the way that everything in my life seemed to be imploding. 

I walked until my feet hurt and I knew that I was gonna be in pain the next day. The hours that I still had before the concert I burned playing with makeup I had bought and listening to heartbreak songs. 

But even if I decided not to go, Diana would have never allowed me to. She knocked on my door when it was time and waited impatiently by my side as I finished putting my makeup on. I was taking my time, my lips were red and my eyes smoked out pink, cause tonight I didn’t feel like being discreet. I had put on a pair of black jeans, and a leather jacket, and a soft pink top, and my hair was in a loose braid that would not survive to the end of the night.

So, there I was, staring at Kacey Musgraves on a tiny monitor, while Harry ignored me. 

“Harry, you’re up in 5!” Someone yelled and my heart raced at the idea of finally seeing him. I turned, smiling brightly despite myself, and walked to him to wish him luck.

He looked stunning. His black pants reached his waist and the open chest of his shirt accentuated his tan skin. I stopped, waiting for the crowd around him to dissipate, but that didn’t happen, because they dragged him out to the stage before I even got close. 

Harry looked back, right before stepping out of the doors, and I smiled when our eyes met. Then, he was gone. 

If the crowd was expecting Harry, they hid it well. The arena roared as soon as the lights went out and Harry came into the stage mid-song. The energy electrified the air and I got goosebumps, looking at him singing along with his Kacey. The crowd sang along with them, and I wished I knew the lyrics, smiling widely when he sang and waved at the crowd, and even laughed at his Yeeehaw scream. It lasted less than 5 minutes, but I was probably going to remember that night for the rest of my life. 

It was the night when I finally accepted that I lost him, and the night where I had seen him shine as bright as only he could. 

“Can I stay here?” I asked Diana, as I saw her getting ready to go backstage. “I want to see the rest of the concert.” 

She narrowed her eyes and looked at me, licking her pink lips as she leaned closer so no one would hear her. 

“Why? You don’t even like country music.”

She was right. I also didn’t like feeling small. 

“Please.”

Diana nodded and got back to her spot, begrudgingly staying to enjoy the show. There was whiskey in her breath, which they kept offering us backstage, calling it Tennessee Whiskey with a wink on their faces. I had no idea what it meant. I had a couple of drinks anyway. 

I didn’t leave until Kacey did, and I stayed behind while everyone in the room clapped for her. Harry was already wearing a white cotton shirt and he smiled sweetly at his friend and hugged her tightly, whispering words to her ear. 

“Oh! So she’s the famous Sof!!” She exclaimed when I approached and she opened up her arms to me, smiling as she waited for my hug. “Jesus, the camera doesn’t make you justice.” She rubbed my back and pulled me close, and I hugged her back. 

“It was a lovely concert,” I smiled when she let me go. “Thanks for having me.”

“It’s alright, Sugar, I couldn’t wait to meet you.” she looked at her friend and smiled mischievously. “Harry’s smitten.”

“Good,” I said, looking at Harry as I did. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips, gone so fast that I could have easily missed it if I blinked. “So am I.”

“Disgustingly cute. Are you coming to the party, babe?” She asked, already looking somewhere else, she was being called. 

“I…”

“Sof’s tired, Kace, she can’t come,” Harry interrupted me and I looked at him with eyes wide with surprise. I was not, I was full of energy and I was hoping I would get to spend some time with Harry, even if it was just looking at him from afar. It took me a second to recover, to understand what was going on, and I smiled at Harry and Kacey, just as another piece of my heart broke. 

“Oh, are you sure?” Kacey pouted. 

“Yes, I uh, I spent the night reading new projects.”

“Oh, well, that’s the life of an artist for ya. You don’t mind if Harry comes for a little while, do ya?”

“Oh, no, please, have fun! I’ll just, I’m heading back to the hotel.”

“Next time you’re in Nashville, you and I will party until the sun rises the next day, promise?”

“Absolutely, as a matter of fact, we should schedule it right now!”

Kacey laughed and waved us away before she walked and made her way to a different group of friends. 

“Can I say something before I leave?” I asked Harry, who was actively avoiding my eyes. I wondered how we must look, standing awkwardly by each other’s side while no one looked the other in the eyes. “I think you were fantastic. I liked the duet.”

“You did?”

“Yes! I hope I get to see you at a concert someday when this is all over. I’ll probably skip next tour, tho.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause, it will take me a while to get over you. But don’t worry, I’ll be ok.” A smile broke on my face, cause I knew I wasn’t lying. It might take me some time to lick my wounds, but I was gonna make it. I always did. And someday, I was gonna try again. 

****

I texted Diana to let her know that I had gotten my own room and that I was going home on the first flight in the morning. I had already bought the tickets. I didn’t know if she was going to read it, because she was already dizzy and drunk when I left for the hotel, but I felt better letting her know. I also significantly decreased my chances of being murdered that night. 

There was one perk of being famous: you could get things you usually wouldn’t. Like a fried chicken sandwich, with cheese and bacon, fries, and a chocolate milkshake with a cherry on top, when the kitchen was already closed. Even if you’re not going to eat it. 

My new room was on a lower floor, so I didn’t have the same view Harry did, but I was still sitting by the window, with the TV as background, as I read a thriller book on my iPad. It was called The Last Mrs. Parrish, and maybe it was not the ideal book for my already sour mood, but I was in a rush to finish it, cause I had a hunch it would be a perfect drama series for me to become a producer. It was an idea that had started to run my mind in one of my sleepless nights, feverish, and fuzzy. This night was just as good as any to start shaping my idea up. I was supposed to spend 2 more days in Nashville, as Harry had a few meetings, and he wanted to see if he could visit some friends, so I was wondering if I should just stay, and finish the book there. But I had already booked my flight, 7 am the next day, and my poor heart was not up for anymore hurting. 

There was a knock on the door and I was tempted to ignore it. I continued reading for a few more seconds, hoping that they went away. I was pretty damn comfortable and cozy under my blanket, and if I moved just an inch, I would never get back to being as comfy. There was a second knock, and I grunted, scrambling to get up and walk to the door to open it up. 

It shouldn’t have surprised me when I saw Harry, leaning into the door frame with one hand, while the other was resting over his hips. He had just showered, his hair was still wet, and he was wearing a simple white shirt with grey sweatpants as if he had gotten ready to sleep when he remembered I was supposed to be sharing the room with him. I was about to close the door on him when I noticed two girls staring at us, trying to hide behind a large plant in a far corner. So I stepped to the side and allowed him in without saying a word. 

“Diana told me you had asked for your room,” he said. 

“I did,” I nodded. Harry followed as I made my way back to the window, and sat down on the floor, right next to me. I pulled the blanket over my legs and picked the iPad to prop it on my lap, as Harry picked one of the cold fries and bit into it. He made a sour face, before he put half of it back, and leaned over the plate to inspect the food. My heart raced as he picked up the orange bottle with the white cap, filled with white little pills. He looked at the label and then, turned to me with a deep frown etched between his eyebrows. 

“Did you order this and didn’t eat it?” He asked, which was the safest question I could get. 

“I ordered and then realized I didn’t want it.”

“Have you eaten something today?” Harry pressed. 

“I ate something,” I shrugged. “And don’t worry, you don’t have to pretend you care anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Sof??”

“I’ve realized that I’ve been selfish,” I started, licking my lips as I tried to organize my thoughts and remember the words that I had practiced and repeated a billion times since I left the concert venue. “And that I should’ve let you end things that night at my place. So, I’m doing that, you’re released. And now, you don’t have to pretend you worry if I don’t eat.”

“Or if you take sleeping pills.”

“I bought that on my way to the hotel and then decided against it,” I explained despite myself. “But, no, you don’t have to worry about that either.” 

Harry looked at me for what it felt like an eternity. There was a pang of sadness in his green eyes, and I had to restrain myself to not kiss his cheek and tell him that it’d be alright. He looked like a lost kid.  

“I have a request,” I said, following the script I had set for myself. If Harry just followed it, it would be amazing.  

“What?” He said, and I smiled at his unintentional good behavior. 

“Can you wait for a little bit before you officially get back with your ex? I mean, publicly. I know it’s not fair, but I…I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Would you do the same?” Harry asked and I almost laughed.  

“I’m not worth all the trouble I am, and I’m not getting in a PR relationship again, so…” I shrugged. Harry was too serious, looking at me with concern and sadness and I couldn’t bear it. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t say you’re not worth the trouble.”

“Jesus, I’m not,” I rolled my eyes, as Harry got closer and his fingers brushed over mine before he pulled them away. Maybe he remembered that we weren’t supposed to be doing anything like that. “Can I tell you a story?” I asked, and I put the iPad down to turn to him. This was not a part of my plan, but I wanted to tell him this, let him know what he meant to me before he went away. 

“Please, so I don’t have to go to my room so soon.”

“Ok, so when I was little, my aunt Laura, she was my mom’s little sister and my favorite person in the entire world, she usually told me “don’t just settle for any man, love should be special” and stuff like that,” I was smiling at the memory, and I could see the little dimples on Harry’s cheeks as he looked at me. “She never got married and she couldn’t stand my dad, so she wasn’t allowed at my house. But she went anyway, it was our little secret. One day, my dad got home earlier and he found her there, so she took me to my room and went back down to talk to my mom and dad. Before she left, she told me to go to my special place.” There was so much I didn’t notice back then. So much I could’ve done. I could’ve screamed. I could’ve told. 

“You had a special place?”

“It was my closet. My mom put pillows and a lantern in there, so I could read. I was supposed to be safe there,” I explained, rolling my lips into my teeth and inhaling deeply before I let out a big sigh. “So, that night, I hid in my special place, and I brought with me a pen and a pink notebook, ‘cause if love was supposed to be so special, well, I needed to fall in love with someone special, right?”

“Sure,” Harry smiled, nodding solemnly. 

“So I started to draft my list of things a boy should be before I allowed myself to fall in love with him. I was obsessed with the movie Practical Magic, so of course, my special boy had to have a green and a blue eye, and stupid stuff like that. You think I’m crazy yet?”

“Not because of this, no,” Harry grinned and I rolled my eyes, laughing when I pushed him lightly. But he took my hand and pressed it to his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat under my fingertips. “Keep going,” Harry said. 

“So, uhm…” Lost, I was lost. “So, I met Sam, and I knew as soon as I did that he was always going to see me as his little sister. So I added him to my ‘special boy’ list. So he had to be kind and always be there for me, and like soccer, but be really bad at it. And Cat had to like him, cause she followed Sam around as if he was made out of light and she was his little moth. And he had to...he had to protect me, he had to be willing to leave town on a rainy night, with my crying little sister on his backseat,” I shook my head as if that would chase the memories away, but no, nothing could ever do that. “So we moved to LA, and I met all of these guys and I was never even interested, ‘cause Sam was the one for me.” Harry squeezed my fingers softly and I looked at him, suddenly aware of how close he was, and how familiar his body felt next to mine. I had never told anyone any of this, and I wasn’t sure why I was telling him, but I kept going because I didn’t want him to go to his room. 

“And then I met you, and that day in D’s office, my heart went ‘oh, fuck’,” I laughed. “And I was sure you were never going to say yes, but you did. And then you kissed, and I knew I was fucked, even when we were surrounded by cameras. When I heard about your ex, I knew you were never going to love me back, you were never going to be mine, but I still kept adding things to my list: the boy has to make me go to bed with a smile, and hold me tight when I have nightmares. And the butterflies, man I really love those fucking butterflies... And he has to be a little bit smug and cocky, just because he knows who he is and what he has to offer, and he has to make me just a little bit dizzy when he looks at me.” I found myself smiling at nothing, and I slowly came back to reality, looking at Harry and clearing my throat as I did so. “So, yes, I’ll just have to wait a little longer and I’m sure I’ll just keep adding things to that list...but, someday…”

Harry kissed me before I could even realize what was going on. I gasped sharply into the kiss and scrunched my eyes closed as I shifted to him, getting to my knees to straddle him, and push him back against the couch. Harry smiled at my sudden enthusiasm, and he let his hands fall to my hips and his fingertips dig on the meaty curves of my ass when I sat on his lap. I took the opportunity to push my fingers into the wet ends of his hair, and tilt my head so we could deepen the kiss, and his tongue swept across my bottom lip before he did as I wished. 

“You were fantastic in the show,” I whispered as we broke the kiss apart, and I pressed my forehead to his. Harry chuckled and the warm puffs of his breath made my skin fill with little goosebumps. 

“I couldn’t stop looking at you, Sof.”

“Then why didn’t you let me come to the party?”

“‘Cuz I was scared, and really fucking angry at you, at myself.”

I kissed him, softly and slowly, little kisses pressed to his lips as he smiled so much that he forgot to kiss me back for a moment. But when he did, he kissed me hard, parting my lips to play with my tongue. His hands spread over my ass, pushing me closer to his bulge. I hummed at the feeling and kissed him with just as much urgency. My body came alive with his touch, a fire that traveled from the tip of my head to my toes. Everything felt heightened, the way he brushed his fingertips under my shirt, and the little kisses he trailed over my jawline and down to my neck. I could feel the bit of stubble on his face and the curling pressure of his fingers as he tried to close the little space between us. 

“Get up,” Harry whispered against my lips. 

“Are you leaving?”

“No, baby,” Harry replied, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I just want us to go to the room, is that ok with you?”

I nodded, ‘cause there was nothing better I could imagine, even if I tried, even if my mind weren’t all fogged up and fiery. 

Although, the couch would’ve worked too. 

Harry didn’t let me think. He helped me up on my feet and took my hand in his to guide me to the room. The butterflies fluttered tightly in my tummy and my heart seemed ready to send out the fireworks. 

“We can just kiss,” Harry smiled and I had to wonder if he could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

The corner of his lips got trapped between his lips and he looked at me. Sadness was long gone and now something like happiness danced in his green eyes, which made the butterflies stop for a second and go Eeeep. I felt like I had forgotten what it was like to look at him and wait for his touch and it was all coming back in crashing waves. 

When we kissed, I let him know how much I missed him and needed him, how afraid I was to lose him. I let him guide us, soft and slow at the start, as we both tried to memorize the taste of our kiss. Harry licked my lips and let himself get lost in me, with his arm looped around my waist while the other was pressed to the back of my neck. His kiss was maddening, making me feel like I was the only thing he could think of at that very moment. My whole body itched to have him. 

Harry seemed to get it, cause he allowed his fingers to travel under my shirt, pushing the fabric up until we had to break the kiss so he could take it off. I was braless already, and I held my breath as Harry stared at me as if it was the very first time he saw me like this. My fingers trembled as I hooked them around the waistband of my jammies, but I stopped as Harry shook his head and smiled. 

“Lemme see you, baby. Turn around and push them down.”

“You’ve been watching a lot of porn, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he admitted shamelessly. “So, let me sit, so I can see you, yeah?”

I watched him sit on the bed and his hand go to his crotch, as he palmed himself over the gray fabric of his sweatpants. The sight made a rush of adrenaline run down from my lower to my legs and a pulsing pressure settled between my thighs. I did as he asked me to, and turned around to allow him to see as I slowly bent down and pushed my jammies down my hips and my legs until I reached my ankles. 

“Fuck,” I gasped at the cold feeling of Harry’s tongue on my center. He was sloppy as he trapped my clit between his lips and his fingers dug on my asscheeks to spread me apart. “Fuck.”

A blissful wave rolled down my tummy, and I shifted on my feet just slightly, to allow Harry to let his tongue run down my slit and lap around my center. The tip of his tongue slid between my folds, barely pushing in before he went back to play with my clit, sucking and lapping on it as if I was a fucking delicious ice cream and he was decided to devour me. I could feel his warm breath, fanning over my slick pussy and making me shiver and laugh breathlessly, the unexpected touch already pushing me to a delicious edge. 

I didn’t know what to do, where to put my hands or if I could rock my hips as I wanted to, so I dug my nails on the palm of my hand, and my breath heaved as Harry continued to work to drive me crazy.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry commanded as he stopped, and I almost wanted to tell him to get back on his knees and finish me off, but I turned to look at him, just like he had said, and saw his glistening lips as he smiled at me. If I let my eyes travel down I could see his hard cock in all of its glory, and his fingers pressing up to it to tease himself.

“Can I suck you off?” I asked, but Harry shook his head no, and sat down on the bed, on the same spot I had left him just a couple of minutes ago. I went to him, taking short and slow steps so he could see my every move, and stood between his legs as I helped him take his shirt off. My hands pressed to his shoulders and I pushed him down to the bed, straddling him so he couldn’t even think about going anywhere. 

I wanted to trace every tattoo on his body with my lips. I started on his collarbones, trailing tiny little kisses and licking his soft skin, I made my way down his body. I kissed the sparrows and the butterfly and I hummed as I reached the ferns, my fingers curling up the waistband of his sweatpants to push it off. 

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me as I took the remaining of his clothes off. I was clumsy and laughed shyly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his eyes followed my every move, even when my hand wrapped around his cock, and I climbed on the bed to start sucking him off. I just wanted his taste in my mouth, to hear the little gasp of pleasure he let out when I dropped a ball of spit on his cock, and spread it over with quick, tight movements. I just wanted to see his tummy quiver when my tongue ran over his swollen tip and licked the salty beads of precum that spilled on it and as I sucked it sloppily, just like he liked him. 

Harry laughed, but it was delirious, blissful. His head tipped back and he grunted out a moan that echoed down my body and rose little goosebumps on my skin. It was all I wanted, to make him feel good. 

“Sof,” he breathed. “Come sit on my face.”

I popped his cock out of my mouth and looked at him, smiling mischievously as I lapped my tongue over his tip one last time. There was lust in his eyes, full and pure, the usual bright green had disappeared, and they were as dark as they could be. 

“You like ordering me around, don’t you?” I asked him, but I was already making my way to him because just the thought of his tongue on me made my stomach tighten. 

“And you’re usually such a good girl, baby. Come and spit on your hand so you can play with my cock.”

I straddled Harry’s face, and sat back down carefully, shivering when I felt Harry’s tongue flick over my clit. I was still pretty sensitive from before, so it was pretty damn easy for him to get a moan out of me. His hands were on each of my thighs, pulling me closer to his face as he licked and sucked and played with my swollen clit. I was drenched, so fucking wet it was ridiculous, and Harry smiled when I tangled my fingers in his hair, so I had something to hold on to as I rolled my hips. 

It took me a moment to remember that I was supposed to play with his cock. I leaned my body back and grabbed him with trembling fingers as Harry held me by my thighs. Harry grunted as I did, and bucked his hips up as I started to pump him. This new position made him go deeper and faster, and his tongue slid down my slit until it reached my center and thrust it in once and again. 

Each of Harry’s moans added to the fire that had settled in my tummy, and it was becoming harder to keep up, to sit straight and not give up to the pleasure that was pushing down to take over my body. He didn’t seem to notice, though. His tongue swirled around my needy clit and I felt like my whole body was burning. 

“You’re fucking dripping,” Harry whispered, placing a kiss on my thigh to let me take a break.

“Please, don’t stop, please…

My walls were clenching around his tongue as soon as he started again, and I pulled his hair between my fingers, my only anchor to reality at that very moment. It wasn’t enough, cause soon I was grinding my hips on his face, losing control over myself as the world around me became blurry. He trapped my clit between his lips and sucked on it lightly, sending me over the edge of bliss as his name escaped my lips like a prayer. 

I was exhausted and shaky when I fell on the bed, and my peripheral vision had become fuzzy. When Harry’s weight pressed down to my body, I laughed, shifting down to feel him better against myself. 

“You’re ok?” He asked me but I didn’t answer. I kissed him instead, hungrily and needy, with my tongue lapping around his mouth and tasting myself on it. I licked his lips and sucked on the tip of his tongue and moaned when he sank his teeth on my bottom lip and pulled on it. 

My walls were still clenched and my stomach quivered as my high kept rolling in. 

“I’ve never been better,” I smiled as I laid back down, which Harry took as an opportunity to kiss down my jaw and trail his kisses down my neck and my collarbones. He reached my chest and his tongue felt cold against my clammy skin and I shivered when he licked my nipple and sucked and nibbled it lightly. 

But as I calmed down, I realized it wasn’t enough. I wanted it all, I was craving it. My legs hooked around his hips and I pulled him closer to me. I could feel his cock dragging up and down my slit, gliding between my folds as we both started to grind our hips. I was so wet that it was easy to coat him with my juices, and when he twitched, his little grunt echoed in the air. 

“Fuck me,” I begged, just as I had done before, but this time, I was gonna get my wish. 

“Ask nicely,” He grinned, and suddenly, his hips came to a stop, and I moaned, more in despair and need than anything else.

“Please, fuck me,”

It was delirious. Fucking delicious. His swollen tip burned lightly as he aligned himself to my entrance and he let it slide in, just barely, enough to open me up and make me bunch the fabric of the sheets between my fingers. His cock felt bigger and thicker than his fingers or his fingers or his tongue, and I clenched my walls around it, reacting to the foreign feeling, and trapping him there. 

“Fuck, Sof,” He moaned. My senses were heightened and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even if I wanted to. I watched him as he let a ball of spit fall down to my pussy and gasped at the feeling of his fingers rubbing it on my clit. 

“God…” I gasped. As I adjusted to him, Harry thrust a little harder, until he was all in and my walls stretched around his cock to mold to it. 

We kissed again, this time a little more feverishly, and my hands pressed to his back, feeling his muscles work as he rocked his hips. I was aware of every inch of his cock as he thrust it slowly, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, hiding my face onto the crook of his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to his skin as he fucked me. 

“You feel so fucking good, Sof,” Harry whispered to my ear and the butterflies fluttered freely and wildly in my stomach. I forgot about everything that wasn’t him. My moans were strangled and shy, and my walls clenched around his cock with every new thrust. Harry went faster and deeper and I could feel him in my stomach if that was even possible. His eyes were closed, and the cold metal of his cross dragged up my skin with every new roll of his hips. 

“Kiss me, would ya?” I said, and that was enough to make him kiss me, sloppily and deeply, with every moan of his dying on my lips. My fingers tangled in his hair and I pulled on it, just to get a reaction out of him. His breath heaved and his hands went to my hips, to push me down and closer as went just a little rougher. 

It was too much, the weight of his body on top of mine, his kisses, the way his cock pushed between my walls, the fire that spread down all over my body. I felt blissful, aware of every inch of my body for the first time ever. I could get addicted to it. 

He was closer than he would like to admit, I could feel it in the way he scrunched his eyes closed and how he struggled to breathe. It was a shame that I wasn’t too sure of what to do to push him over the edge, but I tightened the grip of my legs around his hips and clenched my walls with every new thrust. He seemed to like it, cause he pinned me down to the bed, and groaned between his rough thrust, just as the muscles of his tummy and legs stiffened and he let out a warm laugh, that mixed with the quivers that rolled on his stomach.

“Fuck,” I heard him say, but I was too focused on the warmth that was filling me up, the juices that were dripping down his twitching cock as I tightened my walls around him. I laughed too, kissing him fully and deeply, as I brushed my fingertips down his spine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered against my lips, making me feel giddy all over. 

“You should’ve told me what I was missing,” I laughed. 

“Wanna go again? Maybe a couple more times?”

“How many?”

“Like 5?”

“I don’t think I can handle that, baby. We need to build up to it.”

“It’s alright, we have time.”

[billiejs]

Julie and Luke been best friends since childhood and now older and puberty hit there afraid to admit feelings for each other unroll they get paired for a project together.

I hope you’re not lactose intolerant because this is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever written (based on an experiment I did in high school).

Julie/Luke, alive!AU, best friends to more than best friends, extreme fluff, 1,1k

More than (bio)chemistry

Julie met Luke when she was six and he was seven, at the after school ROCK BAND! program her mom had enlisted her in. She remembers that meeting well because he almost drove her away from the program before it could even begin: she was shy and the idea of sharing a room with a dozen other kids didn’t do much to put her at ease. The moment she’d walked into the room she had to run for cover behind the bass drum of the drum set, because a boy no taller than 3’5″  in a Jedi t-shirt was swinging an electric guitar around laughing like a maniac, shouting about wanting to be called Jimi Helix or something like that. 

Ten years later, Julie knows that although Luke might have outgrown the Star Wars outfit, he’s still as excitable and unruly as that first day in ROCK BAND! when he’d ended up tripping over the amp cable and knocking out his two front teeth in the process. 

And despite having been his best friend for ten years, Luke still terrifies her sometimes. Especially when he smiles at her after she helps him figure out a chord progression for a song they’re writing. Especially when they’re entranced by each other while harmonizing a duet and Julie knows, from the bottom of her heart, that nothing in the world matters to her more than Luke at that moment. He makes her feel vulnerable, he makes her feel powerful, he makes her want him. And that’s the scariest part of it all, because Luke isn’t just her best friend, he’s also her bandmate and songwriting partner. Luke is the embodiment of all the things she likes the most about her life, and Julie has no qualms keeping her feelings hidden if it means protecting what they already have. Julie doesn’t blame herself, though. There’s only so many love songs you can write and perform with a cute guy before you inevitably start falling for him. 

On a much less romantic note, Luke is also going to make her fail Biochemistry. 

“Stop it Luke, are you out of your mind?” Julie hisses, taking the boy’s hand in hers to stop him from messing with the Bunsen burner on their lab table. 

“Relax, Jules,” a lazy grin spreads over his face and Luke runs his thumb along the veins in Julie’s right wrist. “I’ve done this already.” 

Julie jerks her hand away when she realizes she’s been holding her breath for several seconds. 

“You mean you’ve failed this already,” she points out. Luke shrugs noncommittally and rests his cheek on the cold lab table, watching her upside down. 

“Who cares about school anyway?” He makes a show of yawning right when the teacher is looking at them and God, Julie is going to murder him. 

“Come on, this experiment is kind of cool,” she murmurs, because they’ve had this argument a million times already and she hates the sad face Luke makes when they disagree. 

Luke glances at the two test tubes in front of them, where white filaments of their DNA are clogging up in what looks like white little blobs.

“Exciting,” he replies, his tone heavy with sarcasm. “There’s only one reason I’m in this class anyway.” 

Julie glances around the room, a weight in her stomach. She’s always wondered if the obvious crush that Martha, second row and pretty blue eyes, has on Luke is requited. She’s not sure she wants to find out.

“What is it?” She mutters anyway. Luke blinks at her and his cheeks get inexplicably pink for a second.

“It’s because you’re in it.” He says. Julie’s breath hitches in her throat. It’s not like they’re lacking quality time outside of school, because they spend almost every afternoon with Alex and Reggie in her garage. She feels the same goosebumps that have traveled over her skin a minute earlier, when Luke had traced the lines on her wrist with his thumb. She lets herself picture it for a moment - her and Luke, together. Luke knowing that when she sings “I never knew a love so real, we're heaven on earth” she’s not just stepping into the shoes of her songwriting alter-ego. She means every single word.

Julie racks her mind in search of an answer, but before she can find the right words, Mr. Adams slaps a little box in front of them, shattering the moment. 

“Patterson, try not to ruin Molina’s GPA this year, will you?” The short, balding teacher adjusts his glasses on his nose to send a nasty look Luke’s way. Unbothered, Luke waits until he has his back to them, then makes a face at him. Julie stifles a snicker. 

“Let’s see what shape it is, this time.” Luke opens the box and his expression softens. He empties the contents in his hand and shows it to Julie: it’s two little plastic hearts, transparent in color and empty on the inside. They’re supposed to put their DNA fragments inside once they’ve finished with the experiment - they even had to pay five dollars for those plastic charms. 

“Cute,” Julie laughs, her breath short for some reason. Following the teacher’s instructions, she takes the permanent marker Luke hands her and signs her initials on one of the two tiny hearts. 

Luke is toying with his, a strange pondering expression on his face. 

Julie waits for him to snap out of it until she can’t take it anymore. 

“What?” She says. The experiment is almost finished. Both of their DNAs are tiny white blobs swirling slowly inside the test tubes, almost perfectly aligned. 

“I was thinking…” Luke clears his voice, and doesn’t look her in the eyes, “I was thinking, it would be cute to exchange them, wouldn’t it?” 

Julie blinks, not sure she’s following. 

“What?” 

“I mean, the charms. The DNAs. We exchange them.” 

“So… you put my DNA inside yours and I put yours inside mine?”

“Yeah,” Luke finally looks at her and his face is bright red, but his trademark cheeky smile is back. “So you always have a piece of me inside your heart.” 

Julie stares, mouth hanging open, until Luke’s face begins to fall. 

“Sorry, it’s a stupid idea, I don’t even know why I said that…” 

He begins to shuffle away from Julie and she acts on instinct: she grabs Luke’s hand and exchanges the little plastic hearts, then proceeds to use the pipette to gently suck her DNA from the test tube and into the charm marked with the letters LP. She seals it and gives it back to Luke, who looks at her as if he’s never really seen her before. 

“Just for the record,” Julie says, speaking before she starts doubting herself, “I don’t need a piece of your DNA inside a plastic charm to hold you in my heart, Luke. You’ve pretty much lived there rent-free for the last ten years.” 

____________________________________________ Thank you for reading! Click here (x) for more cheesy silliness. ❤️👻❤️

[eerythingisshaka]

sleepless nights

[Chris Evans x Pregnant Reader]

Words Counts: 2.3k

A/N:  Just something cute and awkward.  It’s explicit too 

Tossing around in bed, you jab the body pillow holding your stomach a couple times to submit to your needed softness.  Your neck felt tight so you pick yourself up and turn over to the other side of you, facing your snoring husband Chris.  You glare at him as his eyelids are curtained by his long lashes, completely under the sweet escape of rest that you couldn’t catch up to.

“Look at you,”  you whisper in his face.  “Just like a man: have your fun, and leave the woman with the clean up.  This big head child is tap dancing on my phalanges and you just get to sleep all you want?  Last time you’re getting me drunk on New Years ever, you...you…”

“Phalanges are your fingers, you know that right?”  Chris says, eyes still closed.

You jerk with surprise at his response.  “Are you sleep-talking?”

Chris opens one eye before closing it again.  “You don’t whisper very well.  And do you need help insulting me?  Cuz I can come up with some zingers.”

You sigh heavily.  “No.  I wasn’t going to call you any names...that bad.  But it is your fault.  Your son is taking advantage of my good nature just like his father.”

With Chris’ turn to sigh, he opens his eyes up, pulling the blanket down and resting a hand on your ballooned belly.  “We Evans men don’t take what’s not consensually given to us.  And are you really blaming me for providing life to our future son on New Years?  When I know for a fact, when you sat on my lap during Christmas with your family, and you kept telling me you got me a special box for ‘Chris-mas’?  I couldn’t get you home quick enough before I was ready to make you a mother.”

You pinch his nose.  “I don’t think I’ll need to remind you again that I am literally the reason our child has life.  Please sell your self cheaper.”

Chris chuckles warmly.  “You do, babe.  Because unfortunately for you, his shoulders are mine.”  He leans over to kiss you softly.  “As for this kid, lemme have a minute with him…” When he dips his head to your belly, putting an ear to it, you feel a sense of comfort that you’ve been looking for all night.

“I should have known better/Than to let you go alone/It's times like these/I can't make it on my own…”

Chris sings one of his 80s favorites softly to your growing son.  You can’t help but laugh at his put on rocker, husky, bravado voice as he continues.

“Wasted days, and sleepless nights!”  He sits up pointing to you, giving him a nod of agreement.  “An' I can't wait to see you again!”

“Is this love!”  You sing out on cue.

“That I’m feeling!”  Chris belts out with some fist pumps to keep the beat.

“Is this the love…”  You sing sweetly, running your hand along his cheek with the serenade.

“That I’ve been searching for!”  Chris crawls, hovering over you and peppering your face with a barrage of kisses, sending you into a giggle fit.

“Oh...ow!”  You wince, holding your side.  Chris immediately gives you space, but keeps an eye on where your hand lays.

“What is it?  Did I pinch you?”  he asks.

You shake you head.  “I think we just woke up little man.  We can’t have a party without him I guess.  How about you come out already!”  you cover your face with your pillow in despair.

Chris tries to pull it away, but you don’t budge.  “The doctor said any day now.  But if not, we already have an appointment for inducing.”

You fly the pillow at him that he unfortunately catches with ease.  “But I want my body back now!  Have you held a human for 41 straight weeks, Chris?  I can’t breathe right, I can’t eat what I want but I want to eat all the time.  My breasts fit nothing!”

“I know, I hate to see you going through it babe but you’re so beautiful while you’re doing it.  You’re awesome and I promise when the baby comes and the doctor goes to smack his butt, I will be the one to say ‘me first!’”  

You laugh pitifully.  “You would beat our child’s behind for me?”

He lays a hand over his heart.  “In the name of his mother, it’s my right.”

You push your foot in his stomach.  “Shut up.  No one is laying a hand on my baby.”  You yelp in pain again, massaging your stomach.  “Even if my baby stay laying hands on me!  I think he’s sideways or something.”

Chris springs into action.  “Hey let’s try that massage from the pregnancy class.”  He sits back against the headboard, spreading his legs and tapping the space between them.  “Come sit here.”

You roll your eyes.  “Chris, I barely feel like moving at all.”

“You won’t have to once you come here.  It’s good for the baby and you.  Let me help.”

You audibly moan and whine as you crawl on your hands and knees across the bed and over his legs.  His hands guide your hips back toward him as you lay back heavily.

You exhale, leaning your head back on his shoulder, letting him pull your (his) sleep shirt up to expose your belly.  

“Just remember to take deep breaths, ok?”  Chris instructs, taking his hand together at the fingertips over your belly button, bringing them apart, up, then down.  You laid against him like a sack of potatoes just huffing and puffing, trying to enjoy the massage.

“How’s that?  Better?”  Chris says, firmly rubbing his wide hands across your firm belly.

You sigh, pulling your headscarf down from slipping.  “I honestly think this would be better as a titty massage.  Chris, you’re supposed to have oil, your hands are kind of rough.”

“Oh, dammit.  Sorry.”  Chris apologizes.  He looks around the room but you dismiss his search.

“It doesn’t matter.  It is kind of nice just to have you holding me.  Go ahead.”

Chris kisses you behind the ear, continuing his massage.  “Just empty your mind...”  

Your mind almost drifts into a sleep-like state, the soft whir of the ceiling fan creates a soothing lullaby as your husbands fingers skate along your dark swollen belly.  Sleep was almost imminent when something kind of pokes you in the back.

“Wait, Chris?”

“Yeah.  Something wrong?”

You sit up slightly and guess the issue.  “Are you hard right now?”

“Uhhh…”  Chris can barely form a sentence.  “It was just...I like holding you and...you look so great...and your tits are like…”

“Well I’m glad you enjoy it, nice.  So you might as well fuck me.”  You crawl over the side of the bed and take off your shirt.

Chris tries to comfort you, feeling he has fucked up.  “Aw baby, come on.  I didn’t mean to ruin it.  I just couldn’t help it.”  

You pull down your underwear and kick them to the side.  “No, I’m serious.  I don’t want that to go to waste, so you’re gonna fuck me cuz I want it and so we can have this baby already.”

Chris stammers.  “Wait.  So even though we’ve had sex during the pregnancy up til now, this time its supposed to magically induce you?”

You stand in front of him with your hands on your hips looking like a human beach ball with titties.  “You’re cute when you’re confused.  Look at it this way:  you get to bust up in me like you clearly want to and I either cum or this baby comes.  Either way, give me your penis now.”

One symptom of pregnancy that never quite fell of was your ability to be ready for sex at the drop of a hat.  You would argue over dishes or just being so tired, but no less than a couple minutes away from swinging his dick like a lasso whenever you felt compelled.  

Chris looks taken aback but can’t deny his attraction, looking at you in front of him.  His eyes travel the length of your body and his hands then follow.  He pulls you to him, grabbing your ass to bring you on his lap,  You grab a hold of his head as his mouth kisses down your breasts, to our nipples, taking one in between his lips.

“Ow!  Wait, I’m kind of sensitive there.” 

Chris looks up at you apologetically.  “Oh, ok.  Do you want me to eat you out or…?”

You take your hand and reach underneath you, pulling up your soaked fingers.  “All I need is for you to stick,”  you poke your fingers into his mouth, letting him suck them clean, which he does hungrily, “....it in.”

Chris helps you off his lap.  “Let’s try having bent over.”

You feel excited getting into position but gradually the weight of your baby takes you out.  You go to reach for some pillows, but Chris pulls you back.

“Don’t go running now,”  he says seductively.

“No, Chris, timeout.  I need something under me, like my back is not loving this.”  

“Oh, Christ, ok.   Sorry.”  Chris awkwardly dives for some pillows, ass all in your face but he helps build a fort under you for support.  

“Thank you baby.  Ok, I’m ready.”  You prop yourself on your elbows as he takes himself in you slowly.  You gasp loudly, covering your mouth  as you do.

“Oh God, are you ok?  Does that hurt?”  Chris asks, freezing at your sound.

You shake your head, eating the pillow.  “No, I just think I may have came...I know I did.”

“That soon?”  Chris says unbelievably.

You nod.  “Mhm.  My arousal is like...x100 right now so I couldn’t stop it.”

“Do you...want me to keep going?”  He asks hesitantly.

“Mhm!  Yup, keep going.  I got a few more in me, go!”  You say, holding on to your pillow tight.  Chris places a hand on your lower back as he pulls back, and in again, making you shout sensationally all over again.

“Oh, Chris...Oh! Oh!”  You put your head in the pillow as you feel a static heat rush over your body.  Your breath is ragged, trying to multitask with maintaining enough oxygen between your whimpers in heat.

As Chris penetrates you deeper, your pillow support collapses, sending you forward uncomfortably.

“Babe, are you alright?  I wasn’t trying to be rough,”  Chris says, pulling you back to stability.

Your legs are already jelly as you slowly sit on the bed.  “I want you to be.  I just need the right position.”

“Missionary works for you, right?”  Chris offers.

“Not tonight I think.  We should just do it sideways.”

“You sure?  I thought you almost sprained your leg muscle last time.”

You crawl over to your side of the bed, grabbing your body pillow.  “Yeah, well, don’t raise my leg up so high!”

You lay on your side, feeling Chis’ kisses along your thighs, a nibble to your ass cheek until he settles behind you.  

“This is how you got me started in the first place,”  Chris says, stroking your breasts and planting kisses along your shoulder blade.  His beard tickles you, so you reach back behind to retaliate, stroking his member coated with your slickness, gripping his head to rub against your ass.

He grovels against your back.  “Ohh, please don’t tease me like that when I have to be gentle with you.”

“Don’t worry, I can take it.”  

Chris takes himself from your hand, guiding it in causing your body to jolt.  “Are you sure about that?”  he asks with a smile.  He picks up where he left off, taking his leg between yours to steady widen you a little further for him.  You dig into your boy pillow with all your might, cursing him out for being so good.  Chris takes his hand to your belly, simulating the massage from earlier.

“You’re so good, take it so good,”  he snarls in your ear as he pounds into you. You grab his hand mid-massage, feeling the hurried pace of orgasm washing over you once again.  

“Fuck...me...hard…”  You gasp, looking back at his tense expression.  Through the hardness of his face, you could still tell his admiration of you, your body, the life you all are creating.  It all became too much as you kissed him deeply, feeling his energy make your toes curl.  He holds your jaw between his fingers while tonguing each other primitively.  Chris moans in your mouth as he pushes himself deep inside you once…

“Ah!”

Twice…

“Fuck!”

Three times…

“Ohhhh shit.”

You feel a pressure taken off you that was unlike what you felt before.  Your mind became clearer, and your body hasn’t felt so light in months.

“Wow!  You really cum hard when you’re pregnant, but I never got you to squirt before.”

You could barely hear him over you catching your breath.  “What?”

Chris gets up to get a couple towels.  “It’s fine, We’ll change the sheets in the morning.”  

You sit up as he folds a towel to put under you.  When you scoot over to one side, the amount of liquid the sheets are soaked with make you scream.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!”  You shriek, hyperventilating, as you get up.  Chris looks scared, running to your side as you get up to the bathroom.

“Talk to me, but calmly.  What’s happening baby?”

Tears are running down your face as you gulp for words.  “I don’t know, but I don’t squirt and that’s not squirt, I think my water broke!”

Chris does a combo cough and gasp before smiling.  “That’s good!  We’re finally having a baby, it worked!”

“Oh God I can’t believe it worked!”  You say woefully, rubbing your belly and pacing past Chris around the room. 

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.  I’m going to get your bag and call the hospital.  This is when contractions happen right?”

“Ohhhh noooo!”  You scream, feeling your insides twist that feel like they will end you.  

“Sit sit, I’m calling!”  Chris sets you on the bed and grabs his phone.  Watching him look serious asking for a doctor while stark naked made you want to laugh but contractions took the joy out of you.

When he is off the phone, he kneels in front of you.  “Ok, we gotta time them and 5 minutes apart is the magic number.  We’re going to be parents babe!”

“I don’t want to yet!  This is happening too fast!  What if I push him out in the car?”

“I’ll catch him, but honey, this is good.  Take some deep breaths.”  He inhales, raising his hand, and lowering with an exhale.  You follow his rhythm, taking in air and seething with each exhale.

“So you know, this is way worse than New Years.  Sex with you has put me in more binds than I can count.”

Chris smirks, patting your leg before heading for the closet.  “I certainly can’t wait to tell this story to your parents.”

Tag 

@chaneajoyyy​

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : How Does It Feel?

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I am small and the world is big All around me is fast moving

I'm not afraid of anything I just need to know that I can breathe

I'm young, and I am free But I get tired, and I get weak

How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel?

                    The art department was not as impressing as the one at my old uni, but amazing nonetheless. I walked slowly through the barely-started or almost-finished paintings in the empty room, my eyes moving on all the pieces of art. The room felt warm and I knew I'd be happy here. I started wondering if we could spend time here before and after classes but somehow, I felt like asking Louis would be useless. He probably didn't know much about the art department anyway. I glanced back at him and felt my lips curl slightly on the left when I realized he was staring at me from the door. He leaned against the frame, just waiting for me, and I pressed my lips together, feeling extremely thankful that I was not alone. I didn't know why we had bonded so easily but I didn't want to question it. It was the first time I trusted someone as much as I did since... that someone I used to love. But this time, it felt very different.

I ran two of my fingertips on an easel, moving my fingers on dried painting stuck on the wood, and lick my lips. I hadn't worked on my last painting in weeks. In fact, I had not created anything in way too long and I missed it. I wrote down the instructions to find my classes easily the next day and ended up at a small dinner with Louis.

"You really seemed mesmerized earlier." he said softly.

I looked up at him as he sent me a small smile and I bit my bottom lip, raising my eyebrows. Yea, maybe I was a bit fascinated by art, and perhaps it could be a bit weird if you didn't know what it felt like, but the way Louis was smiling at me told he didn't think anything bad of it : he just thought it was funny.

"I'm a bit stressed to get back into it, to be quite honest." I admitted, raising my nose up in a grimace. "I feel like I haven't painted in years."

"You have a painting class tomorrow?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mmhm, and photography, too." I remembered, feeling my heart skip a beat at how stressed I was to start new, especially in the middle of a school year. "I think my day will end with Art History but that's no problem, I'm quite good at that."

"By the end of the year, I'll have let you bring me to a museum." he just said with a chuckle.

"And you can bring me to a football game."

Louis laughed just as we got our plates. We started eating in silence and even if it could be awkward, it really was not. I loved Louis. I didn't have many friends at my old university, and most of those I had didn't even care about me anymore. They had suddenly disappeared after the drama happened and even if I tried to tell myself I couldn't blame them, I still did anyway.

I was about to tell Louis that his friendship meant a lot to me but his phone beeped and I looked at him as he grabbed it, still chewing on the enormous bite he had taken from his pizza.

"Mm, I'm sorry Dev, did you plan on visiting more places this afternoon?" he asked before raising his eyes up and looking at me. "I sort of have an emergency."

I felt suddenly disappointed but I kept it to myself and sent Louis a smile. I knew I was not his only friend, and I know he didn't owe me all his time. Everything just felt easier and safer when he was around. Still, I was not a fragile and pathetic little girl anymore, I could definitely survive a few hours by myself.

"Hey, no worries." I just shrugged, taking a sip of soda. "I'll check a few more classes and go back to my room to prepare my stuff."

Louis stared at me for a few seconds and he seemed skeptical, which surprised me because I knew I was a good liar, and that I could hide my emotions very well. I raised my eyebrows at him and chuckled, shaking my head slightly.

"What?"

"You sure? I feel like shit for ditching you."

This time, I chuckled sincerely. "I'm fine, Louis. You're good. I mean, I know you have a life, can't expect you to spend 24/7 with me!"

"Trust me, I'd prefer to keep visiting with you." he pointed out, making me smile more as he swallowed the last bite of his pizza. "I'll text you yea?"

---

I had spent a few more hours wandering around but I hadn't talked to anyone. I sucked at making friends and I didn't trust easily, and maybe it didn't help. It was probably something about my aura, or simply something that emanated from me, who knew?

I had found the photography class and a few others that seemed to be more about theory but something caught my ears and I frowned slightly. I was not a music student and I knew I was probably super bad at it, but the piano notes made my heart jump in my chest. I've always wanted to learn, but I never had the guts to try. I followed the music who suddenly stopped only to start again from the beginning.

I walked to the door and peeked subtly inside. The first thing I noticed was the piano, placed against a wall. I knew the room was full of different instruments but I didn't have time to check : I was too surprised by who was sitting in front of the piano, his finger sliding skillfully on the keys. He was not too far but he was too focused on what he was doing to notice me. I honestly didn't expect Niall to be studying in music but with the way he played, it was not surprising. He grabbed a notebook and scribbled something quickly before scratching it and writing something else. He put the notebook away and cleared his throat before playing again and this time, I really heard his voice.

"We should twist the knife, put it all to bed, I.... need to understand what it takes to love again."

It's only when he stopped playing again to write some more that I realized I was holding my breath. He left one of his hands near the piano with his fingertips brushing in the keys as he wrote more in his notebook and finally put his pencil in his mouth to try a few more notes. I felt something stir in my stomach and realized tnat the notes he was playing did something to me inside, something I couldn't explain. I normally feel that in front of a special painting or photography that actually makes me feel something but this time, it was a song. A song that apparently, was not even finished. I felt extremely guilty to be there, like I was hearing something I didn't have the moral right to, and I thought about how i'd feel if someone watched me paint without me knowing. I held my breath as he started singing again, taking me out of my thoughts to focus on him singing.

"So come on, love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets 'Cause you got a hold of me, baby Enough to pull me back in deep You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we're tearing at the seams We've both had enough of this, baby So promise me that when you leave You won’t say you'll come back to me."

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, feeling every word in my bones and deep in my stomach. I felt like he was singing about my own story and even if I didn't want to admit it, it hurt me more than I thought it would. Perhaps I was not completely healed from what had happened to me and even if deep down I knew it, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. That's why I was here anyway, right? To get back on my feet and get rid of the feelings for someone who literally broke me?  I came back to reality only when I heard him groan and my eyes fluttered open. He scribbled something again in his notebook and I started nibbling my bottom lip. It was incredible to feel connected to someone who always got on my last nerves. I had known him for only 24 hours and he had made me feel more emotions than most people in my life and that thought alone really bothered me. Of course, they were not all good ones but it still didn't change the fact that this guy easily got to me. At that exact moment though, the feelings inside me were good. Scary, but good.

I thought about everything I went through in the past 2 years of my life. The rumors, the comments, the judging... and also the way I had my heart broken into a million pieces by someone I thought was the love of my life.

Once again, I got out of my daydream and left. In fact, I started running. I sprinted through campus and stopped only when I closed the door of my room and leaned against it. I tried to catch my breath and let myself slide against the door until my ass hit the floor and closed my eyes. I knew heartbreaks take time to heal, but I wanted it to be over now. I wanted to stop thinking about him and what he did to me. I wanted to stop being so sad for someone I knew didn't deserve me. Hearing Niall's words brought everything back to the surface and it pissed me off that I still let these thoughts and feelings invade me like that.

I leaned my head against the door and thought about what had just happened, pushing the bad thoughts away, or at least trying. Niall was an artist and that was probably one of the reasons why he could so easily get to me... and also probably why I felt connected to him in a special way. The truth was, I didn't want to feel connected to an arrogant prick like him. Yes, his song had made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time but that didn't mean him, as a person, made me feel things, right? I groaned low, hating the fact that even his voice seemed to still resonate inside me and got up to take a shower.

I should have gone out to eat something but I was not hungry. This whole thing had left me confused and I tried to get rid of those thoughts but when I got out of the bathroom, Niall was sitting on his bed, typing something on his computer. I glanced at him, feeling my heart skip a beat, remembering that I had literally spied on him and to me, it felt worse than if I had looked at him naked without his consent. Somehow, having your soul exposed seemed way worse than having your body exposed. I was not a big fan of my body, but there were some things engraved in my soul that I didn't want to share, and after hearing Niall's song, I felt like it was the same thing for him.

"Hello Devon, a bit early for a shower?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the screen of his computer. "Did you do the dirty?"

I wanted to be a smartass and tell him I was too busy spying on his writing his new song, but I ended up thinking it could easily turn against me. I rubbed the towel on my dark and and he looked up to stare at me, probably waiting for an answer. The way his eyes softened made me think he could feel bad about teasing me all the time but I pushed that thought away. Niall didn't have weak moments, or at least, not around people. With the lyrics and feelings in his songs, he probably could be weak, sometimes, when he was by himself.

"If I say 'yes', will that bring images to your brain?"

"A shower won't cleanse your soul, I hope you know that." he just replied, ignoring my question.

"Who says my soul needs to be cleansed?"

He raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his lips. I had no idea what he heard in my words, but once again, it felt like he knew something about me that he wasn't allowed to know.

"You got here in the middle of the year, you barely talk to anyone, didn't decorate your side of the room with anything. Everything is so generic with you." he explained, shaking his head slightly. "At first sight, I didn't pin you as a generic kind of girl but that's exactly what you are. It wouldn't surprise me if you told me you're studying to be an accountant or a lawyer."

"Yea, because people with these kinds of job are boring and drab." I let out with sarcasm and a frown.

"See? Once again, you're not telling me anything about you. You're just defending hypothetical people that don't give a shit."

My traits softened and I cleared my throat. Of course he was right, but at the same time, I found out painfully that letting out information about myself could just give weapons to people around me, and that these weapons could end up hurting me. I didn't trust many people, and I didn't trust Niall. Just because I heard him sing one song that made me drown in my own feelings didn't mean that I would now open up to him.

"What are you scared of?" he added in a lower tone after about a minute of silence.

I felt my heartbeats accelerate and swallowed hard. I wanted to let it all out. It was so hard to keep everything inside. I wanted to tell him everything, to express my biggest fears and tell him how much in pain I actually was. But it was Niall Horan, my new roommate and antagonist, and there was no way I would confide in him.

"Nothing."

----

My first class went well and even if it was early in the morning, I was pretty sure I took enough notes to keep up with everything. I hadn't talked to anyone, a bit scared that I would get asked why I actually switched school in the middle of a year, and therefore, haven't made any new friends. I thought about Louis but I knew he couldn't entertain me all the time and that I'd have to make friends with a few people on my classes. I thought about just blatantly lying about the reason I was now in this school and started thinking of a plausible answer during my second class. I was surprised when I was asked to actually paint but since it was not really the beginning of the school year, it was quite normal. I hadn't brought any of my paintings with me. I had decided to leave them all at my old university. I had no idea who had them now, and when I thought about it, I told myself they were probably just in the garbage, where they belonged. I normally keep everything or almost, but these creations didn't reflect who I was anymore, and looking at them only made me feel like shit.

I started my new painting with a lot of dark blue and grey and I was not sure why. Perhaps it just represented the colors of my soul or something cliché like that. It's only on my first class in the afternoon that everything changed.

Art History has always been fascinating to me and I knew that we would get to see a lot of art by many different artists and learn about them and how they changed the artistic world. I wanted to be able to interpret art, from an analytic point of you but also in an emotional way. It was always something that interested me and one of my favorite classes.

The bad thing when you get in a new school is that you know no one. The good thing is... no one knows you. In my case, I enjoyed both for the time being, and I'd try to make friends later... maybe. That's why I was so shocked when I entered the art history class and saw him. I had to put up with him almost every evening, night and morning. Why did I have to, again, in one of my classes?

His eyes met mine and I thought I would see a smirk draw itself on his mouth but instead, his lips opened slightly as if he was surprised to see me there. I took a seat and his eyes followed me, making me suddenly very nervous. He kept staring at me for a while before turning around again and I let my shoulders fall. Would he talk to me? Would he mention anything? Would he tease me?

I blinked a few times when the class started and decided to focus on learning instead of thinking non-stop about my roommate. I got suddenly excited when it was mentioned that we were going to visit a museum and make a paper about it but a bit less happy when I was told it would be in a team of four.

"Devon Eaton with... Daxia Lee, and Asher Johnson and finally, Niall Horan."

I realized I had stopped breathing only when Niall's eyes moved on me again. I thought It could be a great opportunity to meet people and potential new friends, but I hadn't expected this at all. Once again, I was stuck with him.

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 4)

A/N: here we go with yet another part of this series! Tomorrow I will be posting another fic with a certain loveable character, but V will still be given the love and appreciation he so deserves. 

TW: Sexual assault Attempt:

“You want me to do what?” It was barely 8:30 am; the sun had grazed you with its warm embrace. “Ah, you’re up early,” V had remarked once he heard you shuffle into the kitchen. His trademark apron was tied snugly around his waist. You grumbled in reply and begrudgingly sat down in a kitchen chair. A mug of coffee had slid your way. It was delicious. V shifted foot to foot as he stood there in the kitchen. You didn’t think V could ever be sheepish, let alone nervous. “It’ll be fine, my dear. All you have to do is follow my lead.” You drummed your fingers on the table as you stared up at the smiling mask looking down at you. Even though you couldn’t see V’s face you knew he was hopeful. “Alright V, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” V’s hands clasped together, enthused. “Aha! Thank you mademoiselle, I appreciate it!You can trust me;danger will not whisk you away from my grasp.” You hated how chirpy he sounded as he prattled on about his plans. V’s voice sounded muddled as he chatted excitedly. You rubbed your temples with the tips of your fingers. “It’s not even ten,” you muttered.

The face that stared back at you was unrecognizable. The mirror mocked you as you sat there, gazing at the new face in front of you. V had twirled the chair around in front of the mirror, the counter filled with makeup and brushes. You were surprised that he had makeup, considering he wore the guy fawkes mask 24/7. “Do you not like it, my dear?” You snapped from your thoughts as you turned to your masked friend. “It’s not that I hate it, just not my style.” You gestured to the  pink blush and bright pink lipstick V had painted onto your face. “I’m used to a more natural look, or with the winged eyeliner I usually wear.” V chuckled, “You dislike looking like a little girl.” “Can you blame me,” you huffed. “You are very good with makeup though, I’ll give you that V.” He thanked you while he pinned the pink bows in your pig tails. You suppressed a shiver as his gloved fingers brushed over your neck lightly. Stop it! Focus on the task at hand! You definitely did not blush when his chest rested against your back as he pinned the last bow to your head. “Funny how this guy is a priest and a pedophile. Two birds with one stone,” you joked, trying to calm yourself down. “The world won’t surely miss him when he’s gone,” V replied as he stepped back. His fingers hovered over your shoulder, almost as if he wanted to gently brush them across your skin. Through the mirror you could tell V was staring at you. It was silent for a few moments as the two of you held each other’s gaze. “D-do you know what I’m gonna wear,” you stammered, breaking the silence. You hoped to god V didn’t notice that you were blushing, if he did he didn’t he say anything. “Ah yes,” he said, “You’re going to love the costume, too.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m dying to find out.”

You fiddled with the hem of the dress as you waited for the priest to enter. V wasn’t kidding about the dress. The skirt was wide and very pink. The only thing you liked about it was the white blouse and the short lace socks you wore with the pink maryjanes. Nerves jumped inside of your stomach. What if this all went wrong? You felt sick as you waited for the damn guy to get in here. You shuddered at what the assistant or chapel dude had said (like you would know what he did.) “You’re much older than expected. It should be fine, you look young enough.” You almost gagged when those words came out of his mouth. But you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster and a gritted “thanks.” His eyes swept over you one more time before leading you to a room with a four poster bed. Regret washed over you;you regretted agreeing to help V with this...particular task. “All will be fine mademoiselle. I promise.” His words rang in your head along with the instructions he had gone over with you. Yes, you felt guilty for having to live off of him for so long and disrupting his peace, but death didn’t seem terrible as you stood there in the priest’s room. “It’s the least we can do,” you reassured yourself. “For V.” The white walls of the room were bare; not a single decoration of some kind hanging on the walls. It was incredibly boring. Your eyes followed the dried paint on the walls. The strokes of the brush made little swirls and intricate, abstract designs. Has it been 5? 10? 20 minutes? Do I sit on the bed? Do I just stand here like an idiot? No matter how much you hated standing there,  you knew if V asked you anything you would do it in a heartbeat. ‘Darling, would you mind handing me the rag?’ ‘Would you mind holding this fabric up for me?’ ‘Mademoiselle, could you risk your life for me and die by my hand?’ You snorted at the last one. Even if V were to ask that, you would. It’s because we have a crush. “No, no we don’t, shut up shut up shut-” The door swung open and you immediately tensed up. Relax, get in tune, V will protect us. An older balding man stood in front of you. His robes reached to the floor and he had beady eyes that looked black. God was he ugly. You felt disgusted as his eyes raked over your body. The gleam in his eyes made you feel sick.

Good thing father taught me to be an A class liar. “Hello, sir.” You gave him a smile;your eyes looked all innocent and doelike. Your lips parted as you spoke. Don’t over do it, be innocent and childlike. It makes me feel gross for thinking that. You averted your gaze, trying to pass it off as looking shy. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “I can’t believe I doubted your beauty for a second.” Forcing a smile you whispered, “Thank you, sir.” The priest’s eyes seemed to gleam at that. “So polite.” He slowly strolled over to you like he would to a scared child (the thought of that made you feel sick). His slimy hand grabbed your arm; his grip was tight as he looked into your eyes. “Go on, get on the bed.” You gulped as he let go of your arm. “Yes sir.” You felt terrified at the sound of the door closing and the click of a lock. You sat at the end of the bed, your legs pressed together. An ugly smile graced his lips as he saw you. You noticed the tent in his pants and wanted to puke. 

Everything happened so fast. One minute he was at the door and the next he pounced on you. You let out a shriek as your back hit the bed. The priest’s body was pressed up against yours. His hands traveled down your waist, to your legs. They ghosted up your smooth thighs and up to your panties. “N-no,” you yelped, squirming under his body. Where the hell was V? Everything felt hazy and unreal. It was almost dreamlike as  you laid there at this creep’s mercy. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Where the fuck is V? Squirming, you tried to throw the priest off of you but to no avail you were stuck. “You’re going to take what I give you and you will like it,” the priest snarled, “stop moving bitch.” His grip was like iron; his hands had wrapped around your throat, squeezing in tightly. Your lungs burned as they begged for air. Hands creeping up to his, you tried tugging at them to let them go. It was no use. Circles and staticky designs danced around the air. The vision in your eyes was starting to darken and the priest’s fingers had started to ghost over the waistband of your underwear. You were pinned underneath him,helpless. There was a wolfish grin on his lips. You were the wolf’s prey; a rabbit trying to wiggle underneath the wolf’s weight. He said he’d be here what the fuck happened? I’m gonna get taken advantage of, I’m going to die. He said he’d protect me, he said-

Bang! Bang! CRASH! The door smashed, pieces of its wood crashing onto the door. “What the-,” the priest shouted. There, V stood in the broken door way. His posture was tense and he searched for you as he stood there. V’s fist clenched and his blood boiled as he saw you under the priest. The look on your face had sheer terror written all over it. “It’s the terrorist!” The priest jumped off of you and ran towards a bible sitting on his dresser. Air filled your lungs and you hacked loudly. The burning in your chest and throat made you cough.Tears made your eyes blurry as they fell from your cheeks. Getting composed, you remembered where you were. Stop sitting there and move! Run!  Your body was shaking with adrenaline and everything felt numb. You could hear grunts of pain from the direction where V and the priest was but you didn’t care. Tumbling off the bed you covered your face so you wouldn’t smack it against the floor. You sucked in a breath as your legs smacked onto the hard tile. Everything was burning. The ghost of the priest’s fingers burned your skin and you felt disgusted. You scurried onto your legs and watched as V flung a knife in the priest’s stomach, causing him to tumble over. A groan escaped the priest’s lips as he hunched over, holding his side. You admired V’s dance of knives as you watched him twirl another dagger with his fingers and slit the priest’s throat. His hands immediately flew up to his throat and his face paled. Blood gurgled out of his mouth until there was nothing but silence. The priest’s corpse fell with a thud and that is when V turned to you. “I apologize darling, I had some trouble along the way. He didn’t touch you did he?” Tears fell from your eyes;you looked like a mess. Your hair was tousled and your mascara left streaks on your cheeks. You just shook your head no, not trusting yourself to speak. “I-I wasn’t…” you trailed off after swallowing the tears and the huge lump in your throat. More tears fell from your eyes as you thought of the prospect of what if. What if V hadn’t shown up in time. What if he hadn’t even shown up at all. What if we were actually- A whimper escaped your lips as you tried your damned hardest not to sob. 

V let out a sigh and enveloped you in his arms. He felt incredibly guilty he was a tad bit too late. Any later and well… V’s black tunic was damp from your tears. His hands hung low above your waist and your head nuzzling into his chest. His wig tickled you a bit but you didn’t mind. He was warm and comforting. V’s arms felt safe as he held you tightly. Giving you one last squeeze, he pulled away. Your red eyes stared back into the guy fawkes mask. How badly you wanted to kiss his lips. Or well, the mask’s at the very least. “Are you ready, mademoiselle,” V’s usually chipper voice sounding dark. Nodding, you wiped your eyes. “Let’s go home,” you whispered. V smiled underneath his mask. His gloved hand gently placed itself on your back as he led the way. How badly you wanted to melt into his touch. “To home, then.” Our home.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 18

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: (fun fact i wrote this listening to beautiful ghosts which i have now formally induced into the fanfic’s playlist bc im a nerd who rly likes soft music) this is probably my longest chapter, yay me for writing a long one. hope you guys enjoy it xx

Next Chapter >>

Y/N looked at her reflection on the golden mirror standing in front of her. She studied the features she always saw in her own mirrors, the same face, the same eyes, same nose and same lips, however the reflection staring back at her was somehow different, similar to those renaissance paintings of mythical female sirens, goddesses, princesses and other deities. She had her once free flowing hair in a hellenic up-do filled with various flowers and a gold like chain intertwined with one of her brains. A few perfectly curled ringlets fell to frame her face which was still makeup free from last night, with a blossoming red tint on her upper cheeks. 

She was dressed in a garment made of two parts, a linen white tunic and a clock held together by an ornamental claps with Hecate’s torch insignia at the shoulders and a light pink sash at the waist. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would think of her clothing. When she was younger, she would religiously dress as a Greek Goddess for Halloween yet nothing she’d worn compared to what she looked right now. 

Minthe had been silent throughout most of it, sometimes even giving her judgmental looks whenever she questioned about the fabrics and flowers being used to adorn her. She didn’t completely blame her for doing such things, deities were only found of mortals for two things: war and procreation. It didn’t take long for her to return to the gardens, being placed in front of Hecate who was commanding her maidens like a captain on a ship. 

      - Do you know anything about gardening? - she looked down on the mortal dressed in deity clothing, which she had to admit, seemed to fit her better than the cheap satin piece she was wearing. 

       - I can manage. - Y/N rubbed her hands out of anxiety when talking to one of the goddesses of the Underworld. 

       - Well, pick something and get to work. - Hecate pointed aimlessly towards the groves and their dying flora. Y/N heart tightened at seeing the muddy green colour that the plants had beginning to take, a stark contrast to the lively, colourful flora of its surroundings. Her eyes locked on a particular rose bush whose roses were brownish white, some of its petals constantly falling to the ground whenever the slight summer breeze hit it. She took it upon herself to tend to it, walking over the to wilting bush and sitting gracefully on the grace, hands softly touching the dead flowers which she once imagined to have been the most beautiful flowers.

Y/N decided to take care of the flowers the way she took care of her little plants back in her flat. She started by getting rid of the dead leaves, carefully pulling them from the branches and onto the floor, trimming it to the best she could possible manage. Y/N kept on trimming, eventually reading the thorny white roses, some which were just in desperate need of water and others which were past the point of no return. She directed her attention to those, pulling a few out and onto her robes until a specific one found itself a challenge. The young girl extended her hand deeper into the rose bush, pulling the flower at its base, finding it rather hard to pull it from the branch. She kept on pulling and the flower eventually gave up, detaching from its base and sticking one of its thrones deep into her thumb. She let go of a tiny wince, not wanting to bother the other maidens. 

Carefully, Y/N removed the thorn from the flower, throwing it forcefully on the ground before turning her thumb so she could face it. It had a tiny wound, so tiny that if she hadn’t known it was there, she would’ve never realised it was there. However, it was bleeding heavily, the scarlet liquid dripping and running from her skin to the green grass nearby the bush, staining it the same colour as the liquid. 

She sucked on her thumb, mindlessly dabbing it against her clothing and returning to get rid of everything that did not belong to a healthy plant. Y/N was so into her craft she didn’t notice James returning to the Elysium. He watched her from afar, her lips and nose crunched as she inspected the rose bush with a might which in his mind was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. 

      - Did you discover anything? - Hecate walked up to the God of the Underworld, curious for any developments. 

      - We are not entirely sure of who stole the pomegranate but we did discover her friend is an oracle. - Hecate rolled her eyes, if there was any type of witchcraft she hated the most it was prophecy telling. The prophecies were always unnecessarily over-detailed and more like riddles than actual pieces of helpful information. She already couldn’t stand the Fates and their seeing eye, but mortal oracles? They were the worse. 

      - Tell me you turned her into a fish ... or a plant. - Hecate was particularly found of permanent punishments. She thought curses and death were much too simple, however James was one to dabble in cursing rather than metamorphism. 

       - Y/N wouldn’t be very happy with that.

       - Y/N is not the Goddess of the Underworld is she? 

       - You have absolutely no reason to despise her that much, Hecate. It is out of character for you to judge before meeting. 

       - I know how this ends, Hades. You are not the first god to take liking to a mortal and trust me it never ends well. - she sighed, arms crossed in front of her white gown. James had to agree with her, he knew way too many myths of when a mortal relationship went wrong but he couldn’t help it, she was just so magnetic and entrancing. Besides, part of him wanted to be next to her all the time and make sure no harm came to her which harshly differed from other deity/mortal relationships which were normally based on lust or petty jealousy between other deities. - You’re a King before you are a man. Remember that. 

Y/N got up from her crutching state, standing on her legs as she patted the dirt and petals off her garments and onto the floor, a proud look on her face as she looked at the relatively healthy looking plant. She let out a little happy sound, hands clasped in front of her collarbones as she turned on her heel to go and find something else to do. Instead, her eye caught James’ figure who was standing next to Hecate in what looked like a innocent conversation. 

She wanted to wave at him, maybe even give him an innocent kiss but Hecates’ words were still very much present in her mind “You are not to be intimate with the god of the Underworld” so were Minthe’s remarks about how he was expected to be seen with someone of higher blood. She wouldn’t want to get him in trouble and perhaps they could speak some other time when they weren’t surrounded by other people. 

      - What are you doing standing up there? - Minthe came up from behind her, a condescending tone present. - Ogling the god of the Underworld?

      - What? No. - her cheeks turned into a colour that matched her pink sash, as she tried to hide her face in her hands. Somehow, the fact that he was, well, he was who he was, made her feel like she needed to keep everything shrouded in secrecy. - Is there something else needed?

     - You know what? - her face contorted into a calm expression she couldn’t really figure out. - We could use some help from some new maidens.

     - New maidens? - Y/N felt like a child, questioning everything and everyone around her. 

     - Yes, you see if you go straight ahead until you reach the river and ask the Charon to take you South you’ll be able to find them. Tell him it’s for Hecate.

     - Oh, alright. - she nodded her head and wandered off into the groves, looking around at the decay. It looked like that particular piece of land of the Elysium was doomed to disappear. She kept on walking as instructed by Minthe until she reached the river where a boat was awaiting her with the same faceless figure. She had to admit that it freaked her out that someone without a face could speak but she tried her best to stay climb as she climbed on the boat, putting on her best courageous face. - Hecate asked for you to take me to the South. 

     - The South? - his voice was rather warm for such a menacing figure. - Are you sure?

     - Yes. 

She couldn’t see him do anything, however, she understood he had accepted her request once the boat started to move. Y/N remained silent, repeating Minthe’s words in her mind. How hard could it possibly be to lead a few maidens back to the Elysium? It was easy, she kept telling that to herself even as the boat reached shore. The sky had turned into a dark scarlet and the chirping of birdies could be heard no more. She looked around but all she could see was darkness.

    - Are you sure about this, miss? - the Charon questioned, noticing the uneasiness of her step as she disembarked. - I’m sure Hecate can arrange for someone else.

    - No. - she shook a forced smile out of her worried expression. - It’s fine. Thank you.

    - Of course, m’am. 

You can do this, she told herself as she stepped onto the darkness. There was no sound, the once dark scarlet sky had faded into pure darkness and it was cold, so cold. Her hands went to her own arms, rubbing them in order to keep warm as she dwelled deeper into the unknown, the only sound heard being that of her shoes clicking against the pavement. 

    - Hmm ... Hello? - she spoke up, gathering every bit of courage. She was in the Underworld after all and this was no longer the Elysium.

She kept on walking until she hit something, a blue and reddish tint coloured the dark room but once she saw what she had hit, her heart stopped beating for a second. She was standing in front of a skeleton. As she place her hand over her chest to regain her breathe the bony arm grabbed her cloth, forcefully pushing her and ripping her tunic. 

    - STOP! - she pushed her hand against the skull, trying to get away from the grasp, eventually gathering enough force to walk back. Screw this task. However, once she tried to find her way back she found herself surrounded by more skeletons and translucent figures all coming towards her. - HELP!

James and Hecate were still in their friendly debate with the goddess being of the opinion that all of this was madness and mainly caused by both of them being ignorants, something he had already heard before. As he was about to shut her to go and tell Y/N of the developments, a bunch of water nymphs came running their way with worry written all over their faces. 

    - My Lady, there’s been a security breach in the Tartarus. - they all said at different speeds and different pitches, which made James’ head hurt at all of that. Hecate took a defensive stand, turning to look at James who just moved his head is disbelief. 

    - How is that even possible? It’s probably just a false ala ... - he was about to dismiss their claims until he noticed a very missing Y/N from her once beloved spot. His eyes scanned the crowd of maidens looking anywhere for her but she was nowhere to be found. - Y/N!

Once he heard no one calling back, his mind immediately rushed to the Tartarus. She couldn’t be there, she had barely been in the Underworld besides no one would take her there, she was a mortal. However, in a snap of his figure he’d been transported to the Tartarus, staff in hand as he strutted down the halls of the Tartarus. He hit one of the walls with his staff, which turned dark blue, giving light to the constantly dark Tartarus. With the new founded light, he could see a bunch of condemned souls surrounding a particular spot. 

    - THAT’S ENOUGH!  - he screamed in a tone that could scare even the biggest of deities, even Gaia herself. The souls, noticing their leader was amongst them, broke their surrounding, returning all to him. - NOW DON’T MOVE IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU. 

James strutted further into the Tartarus, finding bits and pieces of white linen which could belong to her along with several fresh white roses. Maybe she had been picking them prior, he did not know. His heart clenched as he called out for her name but heard no answer, maybe it wasn’t her, maybe she wasn’t ...

    - B...Bucky? - James heard her faint voice and as fast as he could followed it until he found one of the souls pressing her against one of the walls, boney hands around her neck. He hit the staff against the ground, the once pressure around her neck vanishing as she slide to the ground, hand coming to touch what he guessed was a very sore spot now. She lifted her head to stare at him, a look of regret and fear in her beautiful eyes. - Bucky, I’m so sorry.

    - Y/N. - he rushed over to her side, leaning so he was standing at the same height as her, hands coming to hold her jaw. - Are you hurt? 

    - I’m okay, I’m okay. - she leaned her head onto his shoulder. It didn’t take long for him to feel his clothes had begun to dampen. - I messed up ... I messed up. 

    - Hey, look at me. - he tried to move his shoulder so that she would look at him, but she refused, maintaining her face buried them. - Y/N, c’mon, sweetness.

    - I don’t want you to see me cry. - she sobbed through her speech, arms coming to wrap around his body. Bucky pulled the pin that was barely keeping the now very messy hairstyle up, throwing it onto the floor as her hair descended from the once tight hellenic hairstyle before proceeded to card his fingers through it, every once in a while kissing the top of her head. Y/N eventually stopped her crying, removing her head from his shoulder to stare at him, the look of uttermost regret slowly breaking his heart even more as he saw it on her expression. - I’m so sorry.

   - This is not your fault. - he helped her get up, holding her hands in his as if something returned to dare and harm her. Not that they would, they’d have to be crazy to mess with the King of the Underworld. - I should’ve never taken my eyes off you. 

   - Bucky. - she wrapped her arms around him and for a second it felt like things were back to normal. It felt like things were normal again that she didn’t know he was the God of the Underworld and that she wasn’t doomed to remain in the Underworld. He melted and relished into her hug but couldn’t help but feel how cold she was. She was still a mortal and remaining in the Tartarus would do her no good.

   - Let’s go before you freeze to death. - he joked, not expecting to get a laugh out of her after the current events, however she showed him a small smile. 

He held her hand as he guided her through the Tartarus, her eyes scanning the souls that once were harming her now stood without moving, not even daring to make a sound in front of their King. Something in that made her courage swell up, seeing them helpless standing around her without being able to touch her again. Her head held up high however once she noticed the fresh white roses on the ground, she couldn’t help but stop her step. 

   - They’re beautiful. - she mumbled under her breathe.

   - Are they not yours? - he questioned at her astonishment with the flowers. 

   - No, I wish I could have such beautiful roses. I thought flowers only grew within the Elysium. 

    - Don’t bother your head with it. - he reassured her, although the question was still very much puzzling to him. - C’mon, let’s go. 

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