#<=newly acquired & missing her ...... sad face

[cutual]

girlfriend

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

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Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

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*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

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*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame.  “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

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*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

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*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he’d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

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a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

[hinasakuino]

Do I wanna know?

Sommeil Masterlist Next Part

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! You will be blocked<3. Nanami kento x reader, MODERN AU, porn w/ plot, nipple play, vaginal sex, fem reader, pet names (Nanami refers to reader as Angel) 4.6k Words.

Written in 3rd person because I wanted to try something different. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I have had fun writing it!

The interaction is so short she barely has time to process it. She does feel her face heat in embarrassment. She liked the compliment and the sound of his voice as he said her name. She covers her face and shakes her head, feeling giddy like a girl with a school crush. She’s inside her apartment now, music playing in the back while she finishes the final touch ups on the painting. She’s distracted, though; she wonders what he does when he’s in his apartment. Judging from his suit and briefcase, she assumes he works in some hot-shot corporate position. Suddenly, the music sounds too loud. She scrambles for her phone and turns the volume down just a little. She pauses, holds her breath, and listens. Of course, he doesn’t knock. She’s just hoping he comes over and knocks on her door, knowing damn well he probably went about the rest of the evening without a thought of her. She sighs and turns the music back up before tossing her phone to the side and swiveling in the stool to finish the last details on the canvas. 

 She knows her neighbor, well, she’s known she’s had a neighbor, but it’s not like they interacted daily. He was barely home. That much she knew. Staying in the city, she thought things would be different, and she’d have this fabulous life. Back home, she lived a routine life of working just to contribute to society. Funnily enough, she was well off from parents she never got to meet and raised by distant relatives who only provided for her because she was blood related. It sounds sad, even to her, as she thinks about her life, but they were the facts, and it’s not like she could change them. She shakes the thoughts away, returning to mixing white into the green so the pastel could match. She sighs, her mixing coming slowly. She dips the paintbrush into the paint, and right when she’s close to the canvas, she pauses, dropping her hand. She couldn’t help thinking that something spontaneous should have happened to her by now. Sure, there were things like graduating college, but working was voided with the newly acquired trust fund. She took art classes and even got to present her work in an art showcase. Okay, she thinks, that sounds like bragging.  But, still, as satisfying as it was to have people admire her art, it just didn’t feel like her moment. Shouldn’t she have had some big love story unfold for her? She looks at the door, thinking of her neighbor. Surely, there was more to that one interaction on the elevator, right?  She rolls her eyes. Now, she’s just being dramatic. She slams the palette down, dumping the brush in the water container beside her. She stands and grabs her phone and keys. She thinks that a walk would take her mind off her depressing life story. 

Luck must also be on her side because she sees him on the phone in a heated discussion as she turns the corner to enter the elevator. He sees her as well. He could have easily let the doors close, but he doesn’t. He nods his head to her as she steps in. She returns the gesture, about to press the button for the parking garage, but she sees he’s already pushed it. She feels that bubbly feeling in her stomach. She’s going to the convenience store in the parking garage; he could easily get in his car, and she’d have another missed opportunity to speak to him. She chews on the corner of her lip, thinking of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. She realizes it’s now silent, and she looks up. He’s already staring at her. She wonders when he got off the phone and looks away quickly, but he smiles, making her pause.

 “Y/n? Right?” he asks, and she nods, clearing her throat. Something stirred in her. The urge to say something poked at her.

“Going for an evening drive?” She asks in a surprisingly calm voice. He shakes his head no.

“Popping down for a drink, it’s the weekend, My first free weekend in,” he trails off to count, “a month. Huh?” he sounds impressed.

 She looks at him with a frown, and he chuckles. 

“Yeah, that’s the reaction I normally get,” 

“It’s just crazy, sorry. You should probably get some rest,” She says. She can’t help the hint of concern edging into her tone. 

“What about you? A walk to clear your mind?” He assesses her outfit, leggings and a hoodie, her go-to cozy outfit. She can feel heat warming in her face. When he first saw her this evening, she was struggling to get her new haul of art supplies in the elevator. She dropped a box and sent pencils flying everywhere. Without hesitation, Nanami had helped her gather them before exchanging formalities, and then they went their separate ways. It was such a simple interaction, and suddenly, he consumed her mind. 

“I’m just going downstairs to get some snacks. I uh c-can’t seem to finish this last piece. I paint,” She says, flashing her hand, there’s specks of paint covering her hand from her attempt at finishing earlier. 

He nods in silence, and then the elevator dings. Nanami steps to the side to let her step out first. She smiles graciously. She wishes there was more to say, but he scoops up a basket and waves, once again, going in the opposite direction. 

*****

The rest of the night is uneventful. She goes back to her apartment. All thoughts regarding the painting were thrown out of the window. She grabbed her remote and decided to watch a show instead. It was Friday, so she had all weekend to finish.  

Later, she gets ready for bed, but sleep doesn’t find her. An ache sets into her skull. She sighed and tossed over for the fourth time. Sleep was always like this for her. She remembers the first time she experienced restlessness. 

It’s one of the reasons she pulls frequent all-nighters when she works on projects. But she was damn near finished, so why was sleep so hard to come by tonight? She sighed and turned to lie on her back. The bedding was cool, her ceiling fan blew cool air across her skin, and the control chains scraped lightly against the light, creating small white noises that usually lulled her into sleep. 

Tonight, it was irritating. She grits her teeth and rolls over, now facing the window. When she was younger, she remembers being able to reach others’ dreams. It sounds bizarre even to herself, but she remembers so vividly going from one dream to another; She hasn’t tried that trick in so long. It started when she was in grade school. She always hated sleepovers because of the strange power. When she was a teen, she tried to do more research on it but only came across a couple of stories that always ended in tragedy. She stopped traveling to dreams when she graduated college and moved to the city. She assumed it was because no one ever slept. There was always a club or an after party to the after party.  Nights like this make her wonder who her parents were and if they had this strange curse. Her heart suddenly aches, longing for comfort that will never come. 

 She goes to sit up but feels like she’s being restrained. She gasps, and her eyes snap open. She looks around the room, and it is dark, but she’s not alone. She feels the weight of muscles thrown across her abdomen and looks down for confirmation that someone is definitely holding her. The owner of the arm pulls her closer and nuzzles into the back of her neck. 

 “You’re up early,” He comments. She doesn’t say anything. Her hand tugs at the arm around her, alarm ringing through her.

“Angel?” He asks, pressing a wet kiss to her exposed neck. The feeling makes her shiver. She should be scared. Instead, she feels relaxed. He chuckles, humming a sweet tune, repeating the same action of kissing her neck. She hesitates before turning over and facing her lover. Though it’s dark, there’s no mistaking it. Nanami looks down at her with a lazy grin that warms her heart. 

She’s silent as he watches her, with curiosity brimming in his eyes. She can feel herself smiling back at him, but she has so many questions. For starters, why, of all times, did the dream travel work? And why did it have to be his dream? It’s an intimate setting that she would have backed out of had she sensed it, but even now, wrapped in him she felt like she couldn’t do anything but accept his affections.

“You caught me,” She speaks. Her voice sounds different, she thinks to herself. Sultry and velvety, unlike the croaky mess it usually is in the morning. He smiles again, and her stomach feels like it’s doing flips from the way he looks at her. She leans into him, testing the waters, wondering if he’d remember this dream at all.  He inhales sharply when their lips meet. She pulls back but is surprised when he grabs her chin, directing her lips back to him. He kisses her as if his life depends on it, like she will slip through his fingers at any moment. It makes her heart flip. She kisses back just as passionately, nipping at his lip. He gasps, and she wastes no time sliding her tongue against his; he moans in surprise, and his hand leaves her chin. He trails his fingers up her back, warmth blossoms in the caresses he makes, and she whines. 

A part of her feels guilty; this is her neighbor, his dream, and she was being invasive in participating in it. But how could she back out when he touched her like that? She gasps when his hands knead the fat of her ass, bringing her closer to him.

“Fuck” He huffs out. He pulls back to look at her. She shivers again, and her leg hikes up on his hip, pulling him closer.

“How’d I get so lucky, Angel?” He whispers as he traces the outline of his features with his fingertip, and she can only sit and inhale slowly as it happens. 

“I’m the lucky one,” She replies, kissing the tip of his pointer finger when he touches her lips. 

 He groans when she wraps her lips around the tip of his finger. Her mouth is hot and wet, making him close his eyes and steady his breathing. 

“You’re trouble,” He mumbles, pulling her closer to kiss her again. This time, it’s soft. He’s taking his time exploring her mouth while his hand roams her body. He grabs her throat lightly, holding her in place as he ruins her. His hands were so large and warm, groping her breast, he settled on pinching and rolling her nipples. He loves how she responds to his touch, her body jerking in every way as he continues teasing her. 

“Want you,” She whispers. She strokes her fingers through his hair, letting her nails rake his scalp. Now it’s his turn to pant and grunt, rutting into her. She chuckles at his reaction, repeating the motion of gripping and releasing his hair. He curses under his breath, hand going to her hip and grinds into her. She whines now. The teasing makes her pussy grow wet with slick. She can feel it making a mess on her cunt with every slide of his cock.

“You have me, angel. I’m yours,” he moans, and it’s such a magnificent sound. She bucks her lower half into him, unable to control herself now, gasping when she feels him hard and throbbing near her entrance. She tentatively reaches between them, her touch featherlight as she slowly jerks his dick in an upward motion. 

“Fuck, angel,” He whispers, throwing the blanket that covered them to the side. Without the safety of the blanket, she realizes she’s stark naked. She looks up at him shyly through her lashes. Nanami cups her face. He kisses her slowly, barely able to do that with how she’s still jerking his cock. 

“Do you like it?” She asks breathlessly when he breaks the kiss, and he nods, wrapping his arms around her middle. He rolls to lie on his back and has her on top. She stays close, her hair trickling in his face as she leans in to steal a kiss. His hands massage the globes of her ass, rolling them in circles while he grinds against her wet slit. She whines again when the head of his dick presses slowly into her. 

“Please,” she whispers against his lips. It’s all the confirmation he needs before he lifts his hips. She’s so wet he practically slips in, and they both gasp when he’s bottomed out. He trails a hand up her curves, and she sighs. Sitting up, she swivels her hips in a circular motion, gasping when she feels his hands on her ass. He flips them over suddenly so that she’s resting against the pillows again. She gasps, and he chuckles huskily at her reaction. He slips out of her in the process and unconsciously begins rutting into the space between her thighs with an urgency that excites her.

 “Wait,” he mumbles when she eagerly reaches for his cock. He pushes her hands out of the way and strokes his cock once before tapping the head of it against her clit. The motion sends a wave of pleasure rippling through her, and she has to bite her lip to hold back a moan. He does it again, this time rubbing the head of his cock up and down her slit. 

 “Wanted to see the pretty faces you make while I fuck you,” he says before pushing into her velvet walls. Her back arches off the bed, pressing her exposed tits to his chest as if begging to be touched again. Nanami leans his head down to roll a nipple into his mouth. He pushes the flat of his tongue across the pert bud and then sucks it in and bites down hard. The shock of pain makes her yelp, followed quickly by a moan as his other hand squeezes her other nipple, quelling the pain. He thrust forward, hard and slow, and she felt like she would explode. 

 “It feels so good,” She pants when he pulls out. He smirks at her when her eyes flutter close, her mouth opens in a soft gasp, and she throws her head to the side. Namani takes advantage and leaves open mouthed kisses against her neck. She grabs hold of his bicep, mewling when he thrusts in again. She relishes the way he lifts her hips now to meet his thrust; it feels impossibly good she’s not sure what to focus on.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me,” He mumbles, looking down at where they’re joined. He grabs her legs and lifts them on his shoulder. She moans aloud at the new angle, trying to meet his thrust the best she could. 

“ ‘m close,” She pants out, and her hand trails down her body to rub circles on her clit. Watching her bring herself to pleasure, he slows down, loves how her pussy sucks him back in so easily. He can feel how she flutters around him and knows she’s close.

“Fuck look at you; you’re soaking me,” He groans, her fingers moving clumsily on her clit, “Poor thing, you want it so bad. Here, let me help you,” He pushes her hand out of the way and brings it to his mouth, licking messily at the liquid on her fingers. She curses at the action. The way his tongue flicks over her fingers is sinful, and the image alone is enough to make her come undone. Her breath hitches as he fucks into her slowly, he uses her fingers to rub precise circles on her clit, and she feels herself getting wetter.

“ ‘m gonna cum,” She can barely get her words out now; she’s writhing, hips bucking upward as he picks up his pace. He fucks into her with reckless abandon, his abs flexing, and she feels the jump of his cock and knows he’s closer.  She pulls him down for a quick brush of her lips, and then he’s pounding into that sweet spot that makes her gush, and she knows she’s cumming

“Oh! Right there!” She shouts, holding him by the neck, holding him in place so that their foreheads touch. It’s so intimate, she thinks, the way that he whispers sweet nothings to her as the world shatters around her. She has to squeeze her eyes shut and focus on her breathing to calm herself down. He cums shortly afterward, pulling out of her; He jerks once and then twice, letting his cum splatter across her belly in hot spurts. He thrusts in again, letting her warmth engulf his sensitive cock. When he’s done, he removes her legs from his shoulders. He leans forward and kisses her slowly, and his cock twitches inside her. 

 “Let’s get some rest,” He huffs, slowly pulling out of her. He inhales sharply, and she whimpers at the loss, but she doesn’t protest; she just lets him continue running his nose against the crook of her neck and whispering how perfect she is. She wefts her fingers through his hair, holding him close until her eyes feel heavy and she feels like she’s drifting.

She rolls over in bed. Her vision is blurry as she tries to read the time from the bedside table. The sunlight is blinding, but it’s only a little past 9 in the morning. She half expects to be in bed with someone, but when she looks around her room, it’s the same cluttered space with clothes littering the floor. She sighs and rubs her eyes, trying to recall the dream. She turns over, away from the sunlight, and touches her lips. Had it all truly been a dream? Does that mean her method still works? She wasn’t tired, so it must have right?  She thought to herself. She wants to ponder more about the dream, but there’s a knock at her door, and she groans, throwing the cover off her body as she stands. She stretched, popping her bones as she crossed the apartment. Her mind feels like it’s rebooting as she stumbles into the wall leading into her living room. She curses when she stubs her toe and hops the rest of the way. The knocking starts again, this time more rapidly.

“I’m coming, jeez,” She yells out, unlocking the door and snatching it open. Her eyes grow wide in shock at the blonde standing before her. He looks disheveled and is dressed in sweats and a white shirt. The dream comes rushing back to her. The way his lips felt against her skin, the way he caressed her body, and the way he made her see stars all come crashing into her. She licks her lips, but it doesn’t help; they still feel dry, and her throat feels drier.

“Sorry, the delivery guy got it wrong,” He says when she doesn’t speak, he stretches his arms out to her, a medium sized box in his hands, and she accepts the package, nearly dropping it. 

“Thank you. Sorry, I just woke up,” She says apologetically. He doesn’t say anything. He simply nods and turns to enter his apartment. 

 She closes the door wordlessly and puts the box on the counter. She runs straight to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, uncaps it, and downs it. She stares at the door, mind running a mile a minute. Did he know? She stares at the door. Was it really his dream, or was she that touch-deprived that she dreamed her neighbor fucked her silly? She tiptoes to the door, peering through the peephole. She knows he won’t come out, but she can’t help looking through, making sure he didn’t come back.

 She sucks in a deep breath before turning around to slide down the door. Okay, so she wasn’t figured out. Relief washed through her. She makes a mental note to sleep early tonight to avoid an accidental visit. Her eyes land on the painting, and she groans. She was so caught up in her head that she had forgotten about finishing the painting. With that on her mind, she stalks over to the bathroom to rush through her morning routine. She returns to the kitchen phone in hand, selecting today’s playlist. With the music flowing, she makes a quick breakfast of toast and a banana and then throws herself into work.

 *****

Kento Nanami woke up this morning feeling well rested. That wasn’t a problem. He needed the sleep, lord knows when the last time he had actually gotten a decent night of sleep. He yawns and looks at his bed as he exits the bathroom. He was far from lazy, but he occasionally loved to sleep in past noon, especially if work was hell during the week. He scratches his shoulder absentmindedly, his mind going back to his dream last night. The way her nails dug into his biceps when he entered her. He rubbed his arm; it wasn’t real, but he swore he felt it. Kento sighs, dropping his arm. He looks down at his bottoms, his dick rising from the memory. He could just take care of his morning wood and forget about it all, but something in his mind bugged him. He seems to remember everything except for his dream lover’s face. He frowns. He knows it’s wrong to feel sad because it was just a dream, but he remembers staring into her eyes and kissing her so sweetly. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. He thinks. He inspects his room, nothing out of place. He wants to shrug the whole thing off and forget it ever happened because, quite frankly, admitting that he had a wet dream at his big age was sort of embarrassing. He chalks it up to just that and leaves the bedroom to make breakfast.

* a week later *

 She’s slept like shit all week. She yawns as she scrolls through her email. It’s the middle of the day. Of course, she’d get sleepy now, She thinks to herself, suppressing a yawn. With her project out of the way, y/n had a free week, which she would normally spend sleeping, but she couldn't sleep, so she posted her commissions link online, and already her email was filled with requests from all over. She favorites several emails from galleries asking for her to send some pieces for display. She wants to participate in another showcase soon but needs a new project to keep her mind off of Nanami. She yawns and shakes her head, trying to fight the sleep. She checks the time and groans. It's 4 in the afternoon. If she can stay up a couple of more hours, she’s sure she can finally go to bed and sleep through the night. 

She hadn’t stopped thinking of Nanami. She saw him on her way to drop off the painting to her client, and he saw, even complimenting the work. Outside of that, she didn’t interact with him, nor has she traveled to his dreams. It’s not like she tried. Well, okay, she tried immediately the next day and failed. She failed to visit Nanami’s dream but successfully wandered into her downstairs neighbor’s dream. It wasn’t anything fancy, quite sad, really. The poor guy dreamt of hitting the lottery, but when it was time to present the ticket, he couldn’t find it. She chuckles and cuts herself off, yawning.

It proves futile to stay up; her head rocks forward, and then she jumps. It was now a quarter past four. She sighed in defeat.  She shuts the laptop with a yawn; she lies on her couch, falling asleep quickly. 

  She dreams she’s walking in darkness, and then she stumbles and falls. She doesn’t hit the ground like she thought. Instead, she finds herself sitting in a dimly lit room. The sun is low but still bright enough to light up the area. She recognizes the black and gold decorations almost immediately. Her heartbeat quickens; She knows he’s here. She can feel his eyes on her.

“You’re awake,” Nanami speaks softly. She whirls around; he’s got a book in his lap. He tosses it to the side and ushers her forward when she meets his eyes. She goes to him wordlessly, seating herself on his lap. He grabs the back of her neck and pulls her closer. She wants to kiss him badly, but his grip on her keeps her in place. She whines at this, and he swats her ass in warning. 

 “Patience, Angel,” he murmurs. He studies her face, and for a minute, she feels like she’s not dreaming and he’s staring at her. Then he leans in, capturing her lips in the sweetest way, making her sigh into the kiss. He doesn’t take it further; he just stares at her curiously. 

“What’s the matter?” she asks, worrying her lips between her teeth. He thumbs her bottom lip and rubs his thumb across it. 

“Nothing, I just feel like I’ve seen you somewhere. Like Deja vu,” he says. She stills in his lap, and he pulls her close, rubbing soothing circles into her back so she can relax. 

“I’m sure I’m just making you up anyway. I know I’m dreaming, but you, I know you’re real,” He says matter of factly. Her eyes widen in surprise.

“I”m n-not sure I know what you mean,” She says. She sits up far too quickly for someone who’s trying to be casual. Nanami doesn’t stop her as she slides away from him. He does watch as she walks to the window, her arms wrapping around herself. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. 

She sighs, “I feel like I should apologize,” 

He frowns, “What for?” 

“The other day, when we uh…yanno?” She doesn’t turn around, but she hears him move. He’s behind her instantly, his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her to his chest. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize to you. I don’t know if it’s offensive just to do what we did and not follow up?” He says it like a question, and she giggles. 

“What are you talking about? How could you call me up?” She questions. He shrugs. 

“I don’t know, but I did it today. I must’ve fallen asleep at my desk or something. You’ve been on my mind all week. I was thinking of you as I was finishing up paperwork and must have, I don't know, dream rang you?” He says it jokingly, but it scares her.

She freezes in his arms. Her brain felt foggy most of the day, and she blamed that on not sleeping the night before, but now she wonders if he had anything to do with him.

“Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” He says apologetically. 

“No, it’s okay, I just, I don’t know what to say,” She mumbles. He nods in agreement, 

“Well, what do I call you? You got a name?” He asks. It could be so easy for her just to let her name slip and let him know who she really is, but she doesn’t do it. She opens her mouth before closing it, averting her eyes when he raises a brow at her. 

“Angel? Should I just call you Angel?” He asks. And she’s quick to nod her head. Relief washed over her. 

“What’s your name?” She blurts out. He chuckles and holds her close. 

“You can call me Ken,” He whispers in her ear. Her legs buckle, and he catches her, laughing at her reaction. He begins swaying with her, humming under his breath. His hands slide to her lower back, resting just above her ass.

“So Angel, what will I do with you tonight?”

Likes, comments and reblog are appreciated <33

[takingthehobbitswhere]

Last Dance

Summary: Steve is getting married, but alas, not to you. Word count: ~650 A/N: Sparks came up on my Spotify shuffle and this idea instantaneously popped into my brain. & it's been awhile, hello! Warnings: angstttt, reader is drowning in self-pity (sorry)

steve rogers x f!reader

Inhale. Shaky pause. Exhale. Repeat.

You never thought a wedding would be one of the hardest things you'd ever have to sit through, but here you were. Steve and Natasha. Con-grat-ulations or something like that.

You were happy for the couple, really you were, deep down, but it currently stung too much and the bitterness was boiling over, filling your mouth with the sour taste it often carried.

During the reception, as the newly christened Rogers got toasted, you found yourself in a corner, sipping your wine as you watched the dancers spin around the floor. It was beautiful, heart-wrenchingly so. And you know you should get over yourself. You know what happened between you and Steve was a thing of the past, and it's not like it was a messy ending. So why did this feel like reopening an old wound?

After the third dance, you lost track of how many songs had gone by. Guests were tearing up the floor and the married couple were more than five feet apart for the first time that night, greeting old friends, telling inside jokes, getting caught in old converstations. Steve was there, right there, a couple tables away from you, and suddenly, you couldn't remember how to operate - your feet glued to the floor, no sound coming from your open mouth. Well, then. Oh shi-

Bright blue eyes scanned the room, meeting yours. His face lit up as he made his way over. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." You could barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"How are you?" He asked softly. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot that you're here." This was probably one of the few conversations you've had with each other since the breakup. You've talked to Nat a number times, but that was it.

"I'm okay," liar.

He nodded, shifting back and forth. "Nat says you're getting your doctorate?"

"Yeah, actually. Same old stuff; going back to school and acquiring thousands of dollars in debt just felt right. Familiarity, I guess."

Steve lets out a light chuckle that warms your chest. The music quiets as the song switches and he bumps your shoulder. "One last dance?"

You found yourself agreeing, and you can't remember what the song was - just that it was slow, and sad, especially for a wedding. There was a guitar, a soft voice, it all blended together after Steve took your hand in his and wrapped his other arm around you until his hand rested between your shoulder blades.

As you two swayed back and forth, you found your head leaning on his chest, and with that, you closed your eyes, committing everything you could to memory. His touch, his smell. You both knew this was it. This was the end of the line. Was that a tear running down your cheek?

All too soon, the song ended, and reality established its presence once again. As you and Steve shared a bittersweet smile, you wiping your face just in case you did cry, a bubbly Natasha came waltzing over, threading her arm around her husband's back. "Hey! Thanks for coming - I knew you had some last minute complications."

You shrug modestly, a false grin appearing. "Thankfully I got it worked out. Couldn't really miss the wedding of the century could I?"

"It would've been a shame."

After a few minutes of pleasant chatter, you made some excuse with how you had to get home, and Nat saying she understood and to keep in touch. You nod, almost out the door of the venue, raising your hand in a goodbye. Rounding the corner, you could feel Steve's eyes tracking you till you disappeared.

Closure settled into your heart as you stared into the car mirror. The hole was no longer gaping. Why it took that long, you weren't sure, but you knew you could finally say it was okay.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Repeat.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

What about a sick fic with Peter 3 where Gwen takes care of him? Like he shows up at her window for a visit and she notices how sick he is or something?

Gwen should have realized something was off within the first few minutes of Peter’s arrival—possibly within the first few moments. The faint tapping of his fingers against her window didn’t hold its usual chipper beat and his posture was more than a little off. He was slumped against the sill, rather than perched in preparation to climb on in. Regardless, he made an effort to perk himself up a little when she smiled at him; she couldn’t make out his expression behind the mask, of course, but his head tilted like he was smiling too.

“Why, if it isn’t Peter Pan,” she teased as she unlocked the window, “skulking around outside my window not at all creepily, ready to whisk me away on some fantastical adventure or another that nobody else would believe. Am I right?”

She hoped so. The takeout he had gotten for their last dinner date wasn’t anything to write home about but the view, tucked into his side under a blanket on a rooftop, looking down on the lights below—that was magical. She could almost pretend it had been England, her dream destination.

Peter’s palm was on the pane suddenly, preventing her from opening it any further. “Sorry. Not this time, Gwendy Darling,” he chuckled faintly, halfheartedly. “I thought tonight we could…y’know, still see each other but j-just like this, on opposite sides of the window. Like a…personal bubble thing.”

Gwen snorted, confused and a little incredulous. “I didn’t think personal bubbles were a thing in your book after we—” Peter cut her off then, though unintentionally, a breakout of barking coughs abruptly knocking his head against the window frame. He didn’t bother to lift it, letting out an exhausted, rattling sigh.

“Nngh…s-so, uh…” He sniffled thickly, stifled another cough. “…Y’know how spiders are expert bug catchers?”

Gwen’s lips thinned in realization. “Mhmm. Sounds like you caught a big one.” She had two options now: chide him for swinging through the city in this condition and probably get some ridiculously heroic, self-sacrificial (heart-of-gold, dorky, adorable) comment in return or skip straight to what needed to be done. She went for the latter, pushing the window all the way open. Peter reeled back from the sudden movement, slightly disoriented.

“What’re you…? Hang on, I don’t wanna get you sick too, I-I only came to say hi real quick and then…”

“Look, Mom’s out to dinner with some friends, I’ve got the place to myself and you already came this far. What kind of concerned citizen would I be if I left a sad, sick Spider-Man out in the cold?”

Though her quip was lighthearted, the intensity of his shivering and the buckling of his legs as she helped him inside honestly were concerning. Unwilling to contaminate her bed, he swerved precariously to collapse into her newly acquired beanbag chair.

Curling into a loose fetal position, he shuddered, tensed and hurriedly ducked his head down with a violent “Hhh-kchu!” Gwen flinched a little at the volume of his sneeze, even muffled through the mask, and then offered a rueful smile when she heard him groan out a wet curse.

“Let me guess. Snot all over your lenses?”

“I hate everything.” Clumsy fingers pried at his mask; it took a few tries for him to finally wrangle it off. The face underneath was disconcertingly pasty, excepting his pink, watery nose and swollen eyes. As soon as Gwen crouched, cupping his cheek for an approximation of a temperature, they fluttered closed; he couldn’t help but nuzzle wearily into her touch, pressing a chapped kiss to her palm.

“Missed you…” he rasped, barely audible.

Even now he managed to make her heart melt. “Missed you too, sweetheart,” she murmured. “You’re pretty chilly, aren’t you? Let me get you a blanket.”

“Huh? No—No, wait, d-don’t—don’t leave…”

“I’ll only be, like, six feet away, Pete. It’ll take two seconds.”

The glassy haze made his pleading eyes even more puppy-like as he pried them back open with a whine. “That’s two whole long, long, long seconds without you, though. Want you a lot more than the blanket…We can…We can huddle for warmth. T-That’s always romantic in the movies, huh? Right?”

“I could’ve made it across the room and back by now,” she pointed out wryly even as she acquiesced, situating herself on the beanbag beside him so he could rest his aching head in her lap. As soon as she started running her hand through his tousled fringe, he melted entirely. Perhaps he was more a cat than an arachnid at heart.

Then again, she mused fondly as she heard and felt his low, contented rumbling, spiders could purr too.

[starligtgalaxy]

Chapter 16: Reunion

The group was tied up with webs against the buildings.

Spider queen looms over Mei who was trying to free herself.

"Hmm. After all I've won and lost and won again, you think I was really gonna let some girl take it from me" Spider queen raises one of her mechanical legs up, ready to crush the girl.

"Bye bye, problem child"

She stops when she feels herself power down, she looks to her mech to see it power down."No. My powers!"

Out of the mech bursts DBK "I am no one's slave!" He yells.

He lands between Mei and Spider queen, the latter dodging at the last second. But it made her tumble away, into the leg of her mech.

The others were freed by the small earthquake. They stand up ready to fight.

Spider queen laughs maniacally as her now broken head piece falls off "All of you together can't beat me! I am the Queen!"

"Oh yeah?" A voice calls out. That voice belong to Monkey king who jumps down from the wall. "Well, I'm the King"

Another figure jumps down. The moment everyone's eyes land on him, their faces went white.

"...Noodle boy?" Red son mutters in shock.

"I don't know what you did to (Y/n), but I'll make you pay for it" Qi glares at the queen.

He spin around his staff before slamming it next him.

(I'm gonna skip the fight because I'm too lazy and it will take up too much space)

Spider queen launches off as the mech gets destroyed.

Qi lands onto the ground, using his staff to help him stand up.

He slighty turns his head to see his old friends looking at him. He was about to storm off, when he was dragged into a embrace.

The one who embraced him was Mei, who was silently sobbing in his shoulder. Her tight grip holding him in place.

Soon Pigsy, Sandy and Tang rush over to the two.

"W-Where have you all these months!?" Tang exclaims."We were so worried" Sandy says, patting the brunette's head.

Qi stays silent, trying to hold it in. But then, it Burst all out. Tears leak out of eyes, giving into the emotions.

He hugs back his old friend, happy to release it.

Wukong watches the reunion from a few feet away. Still frozen that his student that went missing was finally back.

"Guy, I-!" A voice yells.

Eyes turn to a girl who turn around the corner. Her eyes land on the reunion, her face turns to confusion.

"Wait Qi, how do you know...?" The gears turning in her head, till' a small light bulb lit up.

"You are Mk!?"

Qi looks down as Mei lets go. (Y/n) approaches them, passing by Red son and his father.

Her newly acquired rat ears were ignored due to the shock of the situation.

"So that was your old name you didn't like, why did you hide this from me?" (Y/n) asks as she reaches her friends, a concerned and sad expression on her face.

"Well..." Qi sighs, placing his hand on back his neck. "It's because..."

*＊✿❀❀✿＊**＊✿❀❀✿＊**＊✿❀❀✿＊*

After months Mk/Qi has returned home.

I'm still deciding on what to call him in later chapters.

This "fanfic" will go to the end of season 3, I'm not interely sure what to do with season 2

Anyway, stay beautiful

-byyyeee (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[crescentblossom66]

A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 11 Don't say it

The blue sapphire sparkled with newly acquired shine, after being meticulously cleaned by the tall gray feline. No one, not a soul would be able to tell that it was in fact just a synthetic gem. She had a few real ones, sure, but those were just there to fool the more...knowledgeable patrons. Speaking of customers, she had expected there to be more, considering the huge sale in the biggest department store of the metro, it lured in all kind of interesting clientele, but so far, not a soul.

The Empress reached for a long golden necklace with a large ruby pendant, one of the few real gems she had. She started to clean the accessory when something red and black entered her peripheral vision. When she turned her head to see who it was, she froze for a moment. It was someone she hadn't seen in a while, an old friend of hers.

“Emmy, darling, it really IS you!” That huge afro, that stylish red jacket, and even those star shades. The penguin in front of her was undoubtedly her old friend, DJ Grooves. He entered the premises with a spring to his step, one that was very familiar to her. The cat hardly reacted to the way he practically danced over to the counter. She was quite conflicted, she had missed her old friend, sure, but the 'business' she ran now was one that the penguin was better off not knowing about. For his sake and her own.

“DJ Grooves, it had been a while, hasn't it? What brings you here.” The penguin started to lean against the jewelry case right next to her counter, his expression was nearly unreadable, due to his shades, but his tone made it clear.

“Whatever happened to Groovsie, darling? I really adored that fabulous nickname.-” He let his gaze wander around the store, marveling at the lavish décor and tasteful interior design of his friend. “-I never would have guessed that one of your dreams was to open a fancy jewelry store, darling, but I have to say this place is truly AMAZING!”

“Thank you. How have you been?” The question left her mouth before she could even process it, the sooner he left the better, but at the same time, she really did wonder how he was faring. The penguin rose a flipper in a dismissive manner.

“Same as ever, darling. My beloved penguins do their best, but are unfortunately terrible at acting, critics like to tear my beautiful pieces of art to shreds, and-” His already low pitched voice lowered even further as his flipper turned into a fist. “-my 'darling' of a rival just loves to be a thorn in my side every step of the way.” His anger dissolved into sadness, a look that the normally upbeat penguin did not wear well.

She knew she would regret saying what she was about to say, but she couldn't see him like that, it was bad for...business if anyone would walk by and see a person almost crying in her store.

“Remember our old handshake, Groovsie?” The penguin lit up immediately.

“Of course, darling. I'd never forget that handshake!” He climbed onto the case and sat down on top of it, which caused her to glare at him.

“Would you not sit down on the case, it's quite valuable!” He only chuckled.

“We both know that you and me are of the most value in the whole metro.” He gave her wink, before stretching out his flipper toward her.

She sighed, she really brought that upon himself, didn't she. She lightly hit the outside of his flipper with her palm and when swung it back to hit his flipper again. After that they basically fist bumped, before raising their arms a bit into the air and letting them come back down slowly, while she moved her claws up and down quickly like she pretended to rain glitter.

“That was amazing, darling, or how you used to say it-” Please don't say it- Please don't say it!

She cringed as the word left his beak, and put her paws up to hide her face in anguish. “-Anyazing!”

“AAAAAAHHH!!”

@r3d1ke @majormeilani

I hope that this turned out alright, and you could get some enjoyment out of reading it. I had a lot of fun writing these two. Thanks again for the idea!

[bakuvantea]

HEY BESTIE I HOPE YOUR HAVING AN AMAZING DAY

CAN I GET SOME GENERAL HEADCANONS WITH SUNG JIN-WOO WITH A FEMALE S/O

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BUT REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

>:)

general relationship headcanons of sung jin-woo with his beloved s/o

- warnings: none! just a tad bit of nsfw implications

- audience: I made this gender neutral, i do hope that’s okay!!

- a/n: hello >:) anonnn (may i call u that? lmao-) here’s your request love!! thank you for your kind words <33 stay heathy, stay hydrated, and always rest up okay? hope you have an amazing day ahead too!!

also idk who jacob is-

-•-

: pre-awakened jin-woo (before entering the carthenon temple)

> he was always cautious, he didn't want [you] to hear the whispers going around about how you could've chosen someone better, about how you could've loved someone that was not him. thus, he was very shy and timid, always on edge when he feels the piercing stares from his batchmates -most especially when you try to initiate physical contact with him in your school or in public, you'd see him uncomfortable and so you'd immediately stop (because you respect him, ily). behind closed doors though he would always go above and beyond in pleasing you and making you feel loved, although he always doubts himself so you always make sure to give him praises and assure him that he is the one you love (not that jerk jacob from the class next door).

> he always wears spare hair ties or hair pins around his wrists in case you forget or lose yours. in fact when its weekends -and when he's not out infiltrating dungeons and positively offering his life on a silver platter- he always tries to study new hairdos and hairstyles so he can have more variations and choices when he ties or pins your hair for you. he'd always kiss the top of your head after and you'd feel his smile as he nuzzles your hair, smelling your shampoo. since his hair is also long, you'd also return the favor and tie his hair for him. his favorite would have to be the classic apple look with a pointy lock of hair erect in the middle -he really looks like a shih tzu, adorable-

> he.blushes.so.easily !!! he is very weak to praises and your lil kisses that pepper his face. you can see him glow and you even see his smile evidently becoming wider despite him shying away from you, looking downwards to avoid your loving gaze.

> he may be sht but he is also very playful towards you, teasing you and throwing pillows at you when you’re in his room, what a baby.

> often during dates he'd always need to leave early because he really needs to earn money and g to the dungeons. although you try to offer him some of your savings or your help during the dungeon raids, he'd always reject your offer, thinking of how it may burden you or the dungeon raids may possibly hurt you. you don't listen to him though, you give some of your savings to his sister when you cross paths in your school, and you'd always register after him in raids or call up someone you know to have you join in.

"(name) why are you here?!"

"angel face, i can handle myself just fine. it's my choice to help you and whether you like it or not, i've also been called for this raid. come love, we're going in."

> you'd always take his blue hoodie and wear it. he gets so shy when you smell it.

he gets frantic when you take his hoodie and start sniffing it, exclaiming; "stop! i smell weird."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "woo, you smell fine. i like it."

he tries to stutter a remark but was silenced by your smile.

> you always try to visit his mother with him and his sister, jinah. you always talk to their mother out loud and you'd see jinah smile gently at you and jin-woo trying to stop sniffles from escaping his lips by biting them and covering his face with his hoodie.

jinah: u simp

jin-woo: shut it

> he loved cuddles! but he really likes kissing your cheeks. he loves how soft they are and he loves feeling your cheeks move when you smile or laugh at his cute antics.

> he loves you so so dear

: post-awakened jin-woo (after the events of the carthenon temple)

> oh, dear it's the monarch-

> you weren't with him when he raided the "d-rank" dungeon that then turned out to be,, well pretty much a bloodbath, so you were very worried when you heard word of the news. you and jinah basically ran to the hospital and when you caught sight of him you almost fell down from relief and pure shock in seeing the state he's in. well, not long after though suddenly he's all buff and you were really trying to make sense of what's happening.

you: hello there good sir, what in the name of fck are you doing in my boyfriend’s room all sweaty and half-naked😀

jin-woo: (name) it’s me

you: haha yes, sir ‘it’s me’ that’s a pretty weird name but i don't judge, anyways my baby boy is not here uhm haha please get out of my boyfriend’s room

jin-woo: (name) it’s really me!

you: no sir, my woo radiates baby energy, you on the other hand radiates big dilf energy, haha i do not like what i am sensing so please for the life of me leave-

(jinah had to convince you that it is indeed jin-woo, you had her stop you from trying to hold his tiddies)

> you were very happy in seeing how confident he’s become, and you were even more proud with how he still says so humble despite his new accomplishments and title.

> it was obvious that he has become distant with others and have set a boundary between him and other hunters, you accept that part of him though since you know just how much he has gone through. he may act aloof towards others but he’s still very playful and comfortable with you.

> you have also noticed another thing though, he has become a bit possessive or much protective over you and jinah. he’d always have you bring a shadow with you to guard you when he can’t be with you. also, when someone stares at you for far too long, he’d step in and go, “hey there pal” and oh gosh was that enough to get the guy running (pretty damn hot)

> you still visit his mom with him, he doesn’t cry now though.

> when he trains, you’d insist on lying down below him when he does push-ups. you’d kiss him every time he swoops down and you’d hear him laugh which then makes you giggle as you hold his cheeks between your hands

> jinah is sick of the two you, always screaming about how on earth did her brother get an s/o before her, the audacity!

> his shadows adore you, of they’d always try to impress you or get head pats when you tell jin-woo to summon them for you. you live them to bits and always thanks them for a job well done in helping jin-woo with his raids. on the first time you accompanied him for a raid -you had to bribe him with more cuddles- and you were shocked with how his sweet adorable shadows turned a full 180, becoming ruthless towards the enemies. quite a show you’d say. after though, they’re back to flocking over you, even dismissing jin-woo lmao

jin-woo, watching you give each shadows head pats: i hate it here

you: get in line then

> it may be due to his newly acquired talents and his current mental and physical prowess but he has become more perceptive towards you. he can always read you and know just what your mood is and he always tries to make you feel better by giving his whole attention to you.

> of but of course, since dear jin-woo has become quite the looker, you also notice how girls flock over to him. and especially miss hae-in (she’s very sweet yes, but hey that’s your man so like—). the moment you discovered that she left her guild to join jin-woo’s, and then confessed (well basically she did) to your man, well you were upset but really who could blame her? instead of taking your frustrations out on her and your boyfriend, you decided to just talk it out with jin-woo and ask him about how it went. the two of you cleared it out and you got kisses and maybe even more after that ;))

> you and jin-ho are menaces to society when you are together, he hates how endearing and annoying you two can be. i mean, does he really hate it? nope, he absolutely loves seeing you two interact, although his head always throbs when you two start screaming to britney, gaga, and doja.

> a tease, he has become the master of being a tease, you hate it and love it at the same time. he’d trail kisses down your neck to your thighs and leave some marks then he’d suddenly walk away while asking you what take-out you want. rude, that’s what he is. ofc he always finished what he starts tho oop-

> he always randomly bites you now, you don’t know why but it’s really cute when he starts nibbling so you let him be.

> so extra when he tells you that he loves you. he professes it in such weird but adorable ways. one time he had printed out ‘i love you so much’ on a big-ass tarpaulin and had his shadows hold it for him while he’s kneeling down smoldering at you. you hate him so much (you don’t-). or that one time he bought a bouquet basket and had a ring tied to one of the flowers, you had to take the bouquet apart since the damn ring fell to the very bottom.

> sometimes when he gets back to the agency after his dungeon raids you and jin-ho would see him all grumpy and you immediately know that either he wasn’t able to make the enemy his soldier or his coat got ruined.

jin-woo: *sad noises*

jin-ho: that’s okay, you can kill and slaughter the others and take their souls next time

you: jin-ho couldn’t you have worded that better-

over-all, he’s the bestest boyfriend, such a sweet and handsome pretty boy much strong and reliable we love him<333

-•-

- a/n: i can add more to this if you’d like!! just hit me up again lmao it’s too long now so-

[shokobuns]

green light.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

GENRE: angst, smut, gatsby au

WORD COUNT: 2.9k+

WARNINGS: smut (17+), angst, major character death, size kink, unprotected sex, implied overstim, praise

NOTES: this is for @erensbunny's collab! thanks for betaing @mitsuluv <3

Miles away from your own household, there’s nothing and no one.

Only a flower field that stretches beyond the horizon, the hues of orange and purple in the sky, round sunglasses and a picnic blanket. It’s miles of pink and green, far from family fortune, far from status, far from your own obligations. Places like these were too few and far between, but it doesn’t matter because life hasn’t started and there was nothing to tie you down just yet.

He interlocks his fingers with yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips while you giggle, staring into his cerulean eyes. Your sundress stops at your ankles, ruffles following down in a pattern, and his button up fits loosely around his torso, the first few undone revealing his pale chest. His other hand comes up to caress your cheek, causing you to pull the brim of your hat down to hide your face, but he swats it away, wanting to admire your flushed cheeks.

The sunset perfectly illuminates your skin and while there was nothing to separate the two of you just yet, there will be something that does. And so, he treats every moment as if it was the last, memorizing the creases of your face when you smile, the pearls complimenting your skin, the sound of your laughter. You, on the other hand, don’t think much about what’s to come. Because for right now, you feel too much love, too much to the point where it clouds your thoughts of the future.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Satoru.”

A small phrase that can only be uttered when you’re miles away, a place where it is just you and Satoru and you and Satoru only. And while you can fall into the rabbit hole of what they would think and what they would do and what might happen, you can also enjoy the way Satoru kisses down your neck, how he gently lays you down on the floral picnic blanket and hikes up your long dress.

A bright past and a dark present.

Both of you are miles away, yes, but not together.

Satoru faces the dark present in which you’ve slipped through his fingers and into the arms of Naoya Zenin. The dark present in which you have it all, a husband, a daughter, and a house to call your own while he is simply just a lonely man in a large, empty mansion. Even when he can see the green light flashing just across the bay, you still feel far away.

Despite the distance, he’s thankful that he gets the chance to see you at all, watching his neighbor and quickly introducing himself as the owner of the house. It was one party after another after another after another and at this point he’s lost count of how many dollars were spent on this single hope—the hope that you’d show up someday and he found it in his new neighbor.

You still remember that night that you ripped off your necklace, gorgeous and costing hundreds at the least, the pearls clattering on your hardwood floors, a tear stained letter—it was all so vivid. Drowning in your own sorrow and missed opportunity, the stench of alcohol on you and your bedsheets, it was not a night you would like to remember. Mostly because it reminds you of what you could have had and stirs up feelings of regret that makes you sick to your stomach every time you see your husband.

His face, chiseled perfectly and flat hair, sharp eyes and soft lips. When you wake up in the mornings and see his face, it only brings you disappointment. But the sound of your daughter’s feet pitter pattering through the hallways somewhat makes up for it. She doesn’t look like him and you thank whatever higher power is up there that she doesn’t. With wide set eyes and chubby cheeks, you only wish her an easy life where she can do the same—be a fool—but this time, with a man she loved.

Cradling her in your arms made the dark present not so dark. And your younger cousin being nearby only brightened it up just a little bit more.

What a lovely boy, inviting you over for tea. You had missed him in the years he was gone and it would be nice to escape the house once in a while. With a simple purple dress and pearl earrings, you’re out the door and into the car. After a silent fifteen minute drive, the driver stops in front of a quaint cottage, lively green grass and flowers growing along the little columns. The area surrounding his house is perfectly neat, trimmed, and organized. Already, you can tell the interior would be pleasing to the eye.

Megumi comes out of the house, politely walking you to his door and keeping you dry as the rain poured down onto the two of you. Just as you expected, the interior is just as beautiful, varieties of flowers on almost every surface, the colors complimenting each other. You stare, admiring the whites, the yellows, and the pinks of each petal, thankful that your little cousin went to such lengths for a small visit.

“Did you ransack a greenhouse, Gumi?”

He’s silent, still at the door, but you hear a small chuckle. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

Just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a knock on his door and goes up to answer it. You go back to admiring the flowers for a few more seconds, but you feel a presence behind you and turn around only to be met with a man in a white suit, matching his newly styled hair, blue eyes piercing through you with an intense gaze, his sunglasses in hand. You’re frozen in place and your feet are unable to lift from the ground, but he takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to be seeing you again.”

With that, he smiles, “I’m certainly glad to be seeing you, as well.”

“It’s… beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. But how do you live here all alone?”

“I don’t. It’s always full of interesting people.”

Every single shrub is neatly trimmed, water flows gently in the fountain, flowers blooming in the garden. The mansion is huge, too big for only one person, and pristine on both the inside and the outside. The first place Satoru takes you is out on the water where you sit by him, a drink in your hand, Megumi taking pictures of the scenery and the people around him. He holds out his hand for you to hold as you try to steady yourself on the float, a drink in one hand and the other holding onto his shoulder.

“Smile.” You hear Megumi say, but you’re far too busy with Satoru tickling your sides, squirming as he coos small teases. The camera clicks, capturing the both of you in the moment.

When he brings all of you back inside his home, you’re in awe of the sparkling chandelier hanging from his ceiling, the gold lining the walls of the second floor, the sturdy architecture, shiny black and yellow floors. It’s a contrast from what you would have expected from Satoru who was once a humble soldier, plucking from your bedroom in the night and bringing you to a faraway place just to escape. You were once ready to accept the reality that status set the two of you apart, but now you wonder if it even is an issue.

But you’re old money and he’s new money.

How did he acquire all of this? His house? His clothes? The entirety of his wealth? You’re not exactly sure, but you don’t let your mind wander, opting to run up the grand white staircase, getting to the second floor only to be met with a black floor so spotless that you can see your own reflection. Along with Megumi, he follows behind you, watching every single movement and every single expression on your face. Eventually, he catches up next to you, motioning for you to follow him into a room with a single bed and another small set of stairs, rambling about where he gets his clothes.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” You reply, excitedly looking around the room where there’s countless shelves, all full of fabrics. “They’re so beautiful.”

He smiles at you from above, beginning to pull the clothing from the shelves and throwing them down for you to see. You giggle, a wide smile plastered on your face as different pinks, whites, and purples take over your vision. “Satoru, you’re gonna ruin them!”

He’s careless, letting half of his wardrobe fly out in the air and you struggle to catch them all, falling over into the bed. You’re elated, the variety of clothing making you squeal in delight as you jump onto the mattress, sitting in the middle, surrounded by fabric of different patterns and colors. You’re buried in them and he doesn’t stop until the sound of your laughter starts to die down. His chest fills with concern as he races down the stairs to comfort your disoriented figure on the bed.

Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and soon you feel his fingers come down to your chin to turn your head towards him. Although, you avoid eye contact, not wanting to confront the reality that it’s been five years. “Hey, shhh,” he coos, his voice softening, “What’s wrong, bunny?”

It’s a loaded question and you already have the answer in your head, on the tip of your tongue, but the more you think, the more you realize that there isn’t a right way to express it to Satoru. A daughter, a husband that you supposedly love, a life supported by old money. Five years away from the love of your life only for him to randomly appear back into your life during a time of stability. And even with your vague knowledge of Naoya’s mistress, you’re the perfect wife for him, foolish and obedient.

But still, your heart is drawn to Satoru—it always has been and it always will be.

“It— It makes me sad…” you reply with a meek voice, “The shirts… they’re just so beautiful.”

He chuckles, kissing the side of your head.

“Fuck! Satoru—” you squeal, his leaking tip prodding at your slit. It’s all familiar, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take him. After five years apart, you forget how big he is, veins running down the side of his pretty cock, long and heavy against your inner thigh. You’ve already lost how many times he’s made you cum on his mouth, your overstimulated cunt aching for more.

“I got you,” he mutters, rubbing your pearl in lazy circles as he pushes in, slowly filling you up inch by inch, “S-So big—”

‘“Yeah?” he coos, maintaining a bruising grip on your hips, “I’m barely halfway in. Just hold on, bunny.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he tries to distract with more kisses on your cheeks, gently brushing them away with his thumb. Your hole stretches to take him, splitting in half until you feel his tip kissing your cervix. His mouth latches onto your breast, his hips moving in slow strokes, his hands rubbing reassuring circles on the side of your thigh. “Such a good bunny,” he praises, “Pretty girl.”

“Mhm,” you squeak, feeling him as he starts to fasten the pace, wet squelches echoing throughout the entirety of the bedroom, “I- I missed you.”

“I missed— fuck!— you,” he replies, groaning at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. A string of drool connects his mouth to your nipple, drunk on your pussy, becoming more and more mindless as your cunt sucks him in. The pain of him stretching you out subsides, replaced by the heat building up in your lower tummy. His cock drags against your gummy walls, his fingers interlacing with yours as he fucks into you, juices flowing from your folds down to the white sheets.

“Say you love me,” he whispers against your lips, your eyes half lidded and mind empty, “Please…”

Your eyes open only slightly, making out cerulean eyes with blown out pupils, your own fingers threading through messy white hair, “I— I love you,” you reply, your mind hazy with lust, “Fuck, give it to me. Satoru, please—”

He kisses your bottom lip, knowing exactly what to do, his thrusts becoming harder and erratic, warm skin slapping against yours, balls tightening as he gets closer and closer to his high. His cock is covered in milky white and your grip on his hand tightens at the same time he can feel you squeezing around him like a vice, the coil snapping in your tummy. He brings his lips to yours, swallowing your moans.

“Hold on for a little while longer, bunny. For me, alright?”

You nod as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before fastening his pace, pounding against your cervix at a rapid speed. Drool spills from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as the knot starts the build once again, your mind going numb as he blows his load into your swollen pussy, squeezing the plush of your hips.

“Love you,” he murmurs in your ear at the same time you’re ready to doze off, your post orgasm haze taking over you, “So much.” He continues, kissing your head.

“I love you, too,” you respond as he turns you to the side before interlocking your fingers together. It’s calming, it feels right and every moment eases your mind off the lost five years between the two of you. “Would you run away with me if you had the chance?”

You’re not sure if your mind is clouded with lust or if it was the feeling of finally being cherished by a man you wished you married or if every sense of rationality had already left you, but in a heartbeat, you respond easily.

“Yes.”

He presses his lips against your bare back before the both of you doze off together in a dreamless sleep.

It all feels surreal.

The last time you see Megumi, he tells you about the emptiness of the mansion, the vines growing against the walls, how the once trimmed bushes are now overgrown and you ask him to stop talking. As much as you love your little cousin, a mention of the house was just another reminder of what you could have had. It only fills you with regret and guilt.

Naoya kisses your head, but it’s not the same.

While you have your daughter to take care of, your husband to serve, it’s only natural for your mind to wander. It’s only natural for your heart to ache, your stomach to turn, your fists to clench. There’s too many questions of what if or what could have been. Would Satoru still be alive if you had followed through? Would you be happier? Did you make the right decision?

But once someone, anyone, walks into your room, reality hits you like a truck and you’re back to where you’re supposed to be. And your life isn’t horrible at all because when you snap back to reality, you snap back to green grass, the finest silks, and the pearls around your neck. You snap back to the perfect family, a strong husband that can protect you, a beautiful daughter that can live a simple life. It’s all old money, acquired not by bootlegging or running a speakeasy, but passed down through generations. While things aren’t perfect, they nearly are.

Still, what if you had taken your daughter with you, living in that huge mansion where the floors are spotless and gold lines the walls and ceilings?

Day by day, it eats at you and when moving day comes, it doesn’t get any easier. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this life—one where you had to worry about your status, one where you tied down to your family. Maybe you were perfect for it, overthinking each and every single problem that five lost years had caused you. You would forget about him one day, at least you think you would.

But you still remember cerulean eyes so clearly, round sunglasses, a pink tint on pale cheeks, soft lips, tousled ivory hair. And it hurts you every time because even after life, the image has a tug on your heart. He didn’t ever get to hear your last words to him, you weren’t there to comfort him, you didn’t even bother to attend his funeral. Megumi knows not to mention him around you, too. He keeps his filter on, processing his grief on his own.

Satoru reaches out to the green light across the bay, too afraid to go there on his own, but the hope of seeing you once again fuels the fire in his heart. He goes through the trouble of sacrificing his money and his time, replaying old scenes of you in his head and is thankful that he even made it this far, that he was even this close to calling you his. He reaches out one moment and he’s gone the next.

And the green light simply guides boats to the dock. It’s all it does anymore.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.

[pink-purplesunset]

A light cannot exist without shadow.

Before the history that people like you and I know, Gods walked the Earth like common man. Virgin lands laid untouched and unbroken, waters ran clear and free of debris. Gods had a much simpler view on life. Many things as well as what happened to mere mortals, left them unbothered. Because of this, they then chose to leave the land, returning to the sky. In their wake they left their children to rule Earth, to keep it from ending in chaos.

There were two sides both ruled by family blood, one of light, the other of dark. The first born, named Jin, came to be known as a being of darkness, an evil no one had seen before. Soon many others who shared that same deep iniquity began to follow him, morphing into what the people called Dreadlings. They took a form stuck between light and dark, eventually forming the largest army of men and women on the planet. With this power Jin ruled the planet and for many years all people knew was darkness.

Years later, his sister gracefully named Nabi, was born. She radiated light, love and all that is good and had come into the world as a bright beacon for many. Her union onto Earth had been celebrated, a prophecy had been filled giving many the courage to stand up to the darkness that had overtaken the land. Nabi was quickly labeled their savior, and thrust into the role of Earth's Guardian.

Contradictory to might you may think, both sides united as one.

With a small army Nabi confronted her brother, her charms and purity quickly talking him down from his horrid reign. From that day both siblings remained close and confided in each other to rule to planet as two instead of one. Peace was to remain on both sides for the remainder of their immortal lives, both making agreements to never harm one another.

Many years later is where this story begins.

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

On an ordinary day, one with warm winds and feathery skies, a hummed song hangs in the air, coming from a figure that bathes in a waterfall nearby. The area is secluded on each side by natural rocks and tall pine trees, a field of colorful wild flowers blanketing the surrounding area.

Nabi runs her fingers through silvery locks, sighing in ecstasy when the cold-water leaves goosebumps on her skin in contrast to the warm sun. She was used to days like this, with birds chirping in her ear and the smell of wild mint in the air.

Every day was almost completely the same for her and had been since her descend onto Earth.

She would be awoken by one of her chambermaids, they would help her into a morning steam, feed her, brush her hair and adorn her in clothes and jewelry that were made by the God Plutus, a regular gift she would receive from her family to praise her for getting along with her brother. Then she would be whisked off to play the role of mediator and politician, listening to the complaints and opinions of the people, an event the Primary Gods had suggested to keep the people happy, only to then be ushered into the Chapel to be broadcasted across the world giving the morning prayers. Something enforced by the clergy so that the Primary Gods would not be forgotten. By noon, she was off to some lectures which gave her more insight on how the common man lived, giving her a looks at which areas of the world needed her healing the most.

She lived this life everyday without stray. Until recently.

She, her brother and their armies, where the only being on Earth that could manipulate reality. Nabi could control elements, weather, the human body and much more. Her brother could do the same but in opposite effects. She found herself free time under the mask of ability training.

A few hours before dusk she would visit the stable under disguise and gallop off on her favorite friesian outside the kingdom walls to a place she only knew. Here she could be herself, do what she wanted and imagine a life where she was normal. A life where she would be able to find a love, have kids and a simple job before coming home for the night to a family.

This became her new normal.

Gradually her brother began to find out, only giving her a mild scolding before focusing on the many tasks that encompassed a a kingdom. Eventually as she would sneak out more and was caught, the scolding became punishment.

There was many rules amongst her life and one of them was never letting someone outside the inner walls of the palace to see her appearance. She was a goddess of purity, anyone who started to lust after her could taint her aura, eventually turning her into a being like her brother. The Primary Gods demanded balance, she was to never be tainted or it would bring the end to her and her brother.

But Nabi had a rebellious soul. She would continue to sneak out, no matter what her brother threatened.

Nabi sighed in delight once again as the water left small pools on her body, smiling when she noticed a curious bystander near the entrance to her secluded area. She knew him well, a soldier sided with the light and a fierce warrior she had watched from the sidelines for some time now. He had been drawn in by the sweet sound of her voice before, something he could not resist. He had visited her often within the past months, giving her something, someone, to look forward to.

She knew he could not see much of her as the waterfall did well to give her a natural veil, all to be seen was her hair, as it twinkled like stars whenever the light caught it. She watched as he stared in wonder, still oblivious to her own. She abruptly stopped the humming and stepped out of the running water allowing her eyes to peer into his own, which now were splayed wide with fear.

It was absolute law never to approach or see the Guardian unless given clearance, offenders would face the wrath of Jin aka death.

Before he could run, Nabi let out a small chuckle making him stop in his tracks. She held eye contact with him, not bothering to dress in her robes before she walked forward.

He had seen her like this before.

"You came to see me again." She smiled.

Not believing his senses the man remained frozen. Nabi made her way directly in front of him, in all her glory. She continued to smile, trying to fill the man with ease.

"You are Jimin correct?" Her features remained soft and her eyes twinkled. "You should really try and hide yourself more, I catch you being here everytime." He continued to gape at her, not sure of how to react. "It's nice to meet you again." She added with a grin, her hand glided from her side to grab his.

Jimin gulped and continued to stare at her flawless skin.

"I- I did not mean to oppose on you Guardian."

He then diverted his eyes down, not mustering the courage to bring his hand away from hers.

With a small laugh Nabi pulled him closer to her. Her unoccupied hand came up and began stroking the man's hair. Causing Jimin to hold his breath.

"It's alright." She laughs. "you being here tends to make my day." She hugged him a little closer, always eager for a warm embrace. "Besides... I happen to know that you like being here too."

Within her embrace she allows the memories she had taken from him to flow back. With a small gasp Jimin brings his eyes back to hers.

Nabi laughs at the familiar reaction.

"Please stay." She whispers once she recognizes the familiar lust that settles in his eyes.

Jimin lets out the breath he was holding and pushes away from her in shock.

"Am I not to be punished?!" He spoke loudly. Causing Nabi's smile to slip. "Isn't this breaking the law?!

Putting back on her smiley mask, she puts both hands over the man's mouth. She could never get used to his reaction, even after experiencing it many times.

"My brother is not here and you side with me. Fear nothing."

She takes her hands away and wraps one around his wrist dragging him backwards with her into the water.

"Come now."

Nabi frowns when he is not looking as she is running behind schedule now and her guards will soon come looking for her.

Jimin does nothing but comply, hushed by her words and newly acquired memories serving him well. When both are fully under the roaring waterfall, he smiles at the small invisible bubble protecting them from the heavy water above. He eyes Nabi from head to toe before capturing her lips in his. She smiles at him in childish wonderment before diving back into him for more. His hands begin to move over her body, ghosting over her nipples to pull a moan from her. He bites her lip as he smiles although it begins to fall.

"Please don't take these memories away from me again." He asks in a pleading whisper.

He looks into her eyes and can tell she's hiding from him.

From yards away both of them can hear the footfalls of horses.

"I'm afraid we must part now." She breathes out, distancing herself but catching his hands in hers once again. "Please visit again, I really miss you when you're gone."

A sadness overtakes Jimin's face but is quickly replaced with panic as Nabi places her hand on his forehead and wipes the memories of their meeting from his mind. She places him gently on the dry moss below them, her magic still protecting the area from the water above.

With one final look she once again leaves the waterfall and dresses in time for her guards to appear through the trees. One dressed in gold ornate armor, displaying her own insignia, the other made up in an armor of volcanic rock that somehow still glows red hot.

"You know the entire palace begins to panic in your absence." States the one in gold. He looks to his side where Jin's soldier stands. "Please do not force me out here with one of the Dreadlings again."

Nabi smiles and begins to walk towards the two.

"Where would the kingdom be without you playing my babysitter Hobi?" She allows them to place her veil over her head and help her onto her horse. "Although I do agree that my brother did not have to send one of his own." She squints at the heat radiating off the man as she looks at him. "The fresh air must feel like poison to you V."

The dark soldier remains stoic and leaves to mount his own horse with no reply.

"Always a man of many words." Remarks Hobi as they all set off towards the palace.

The ride takes them down the steep mountainside, through a forest of large cedars and along the edge of the wall that surrounds the kingdom. They tactfully stop at a spot on the northside of the wall, where Nabi is able to manipulate some loose rock and allow a gap big enough for them to walk through with their horses.

"How will your brother feel knowing you have left the walls again?" V finally speaks up once they are inside.

Nabi just smiles and closes the wall behind them.

"Why must you threaten me with this same line every time you're forced to fetch me? We both know you don't plan on telling him. "

V sighs and continues to peer forwards, knowing too that she speaks the truth. After a few more minutes sulking he again speaks up.

"You rely too much on the false relationship you've created for us in your head. You know who I remain loyal to."

Nabi giggles and shakes off the remark.

"Ok, Ok Mr. IHateFriendshipandLove. I will believe your words from now on until proven otherwise." She rides up closer to him and whispers "I'll tell the chefs to serve japchae in the commissary tonight." He shivers from their closeness while with a wink she makes her way away from him and towards Hobi.

After follows a few minutes of silence with the exception of chuckles she and Hobi share in their own conversation. V then clears his throat, edging his horse on to get closer to the two. He makes sure to make eye contact with Nabi.

"Although I do not appreciate the endearment of friendship, I will gladly accept the food."

He then hurries his horse forward.

Behind him, Nabi and Hobi share another knowing look and a small laugh as they continue to the gate of the palace. It is a massive structure, half white, half black marble, with gold welded gates connecting it's center. On all sides it is guarded by a mix of gold and black clade soldiers.

"May the dark bring forth the light!" All the soldiers shout when they identify her and draw the gate upwards.

Entering, Nabi breaks off from her two escorts, turning in her saddle to address the two men.

"You guys can head back to the barracks, I can take it from here."

Hobi gives her a deliberate glare.

"Promise to appear before your brother as soon as possible so he does not kill us both and NO more adventures today." He makes sure to point at her to add emphasis.

Nabi rolls her eyes. "I would never allow him to do such a thing." Hobi opens his mouth ready to retort. "-But I promise to see him to save you both from his nagging."

"Thank you, milady." Hobi jeers with a silly bow, still on his horse. "Now stay out of trouble and I shall see you later after dinner." He gives a big wave and follows V towards the side of the palace where workers and military are housed.

"Let's go Lucent." She pats her horse's shoulder and gives him a small squeeze to continue to the stable she and Jin shared.

Like usual, the overly decorated palace yards were occupied by the gardeners that kept it looking clean and the pious followers that would used the gardens as a place to pray. Regardless of who they were, when they noticed Nabi, they would drop what they were doing to pay respect to her. Something she did not always enjoy. Finally making her way towards the royal wing and the stables that connected to it, she was met by her stable hand Yoongi with is arms crossed.

"Overstayed your time outside again I see." He uncrossed his arms and grabbed her horse by the bridle. "I should have known something was up when Lucent was gone from his stall again this morning." He gave a small smile while petting the horse on his nose. He looked up to Nabi "Do you want me to put him away for you?"

Nabi dismounted and gave Lucent a big hug around his neck.

"Yes, thank you. You're once again a lifesaver Yoongi." She let go of the horse and handed the reins over to him. "I'm unfortunately late to a meeting to humor my brother right now, as it seems everyone in the palace knows I was outside again."

"You're not exactly secretive about it anymore." Yoongi states.

Nabi gives him a cheeky smile. Yoongi clears his throat and begins to take care of the horse. "Sorry Guardian, I'll just be on my way."

He walks away and glances behind him to see Nabi gathering her long robes and hurriedly walking up the many steps that led to the entrance of the colossal palace.

Nabi could hear Yoongi's small laugh from behind her as she went, making her smile.

Many of the palace workers that recognized her would too stop what they were doing to bow, she would do her best to do the same with her hurried pace. Not even bothering to change out of her normal robes, a somewhat dull look compared to her usual attire to help her blend in, as she ran to find the door to her brother's room.

Stepping inside, she was met with a brotherless room. She wrapped her arms around herself, needing a source of comfort to prepare her for the talk she was about to get. There was nothing dark and scary about the place, but it still caused a cold chill to run down her back and the hairs on her arms raise. The room was very well kept considering Jin did not let any workers into the room or around his belongings. As she walked further in, the corner of the room drew Nabi's attention where a large canvas sat, the first few details of a panting started. There was a deep emotion attached to it, something dark and consuming, as well as many other feelings she was unable to be explain, it was all lost to her. On the painting, all she could make out was a figure in gold armor, the face all too familiar.

"Do you like it?" Jin whispered out of nowhere making her jump.

"Brother." She breathes out, spinning to face him, holding her heart. "I was just admiring what you've started."

Jin faces the painting but looks towards Nabi out of the corner of his eye.

"I needed something to do when I cannot sleep. My dreams have not been kind recently."

One of Jin's individual traits was seeing the future in his dreams.

"I told you to come find me when you are troubled." Nabi worries over him and places a hand on his forearm.

Jin places his hand over her own.

"It is but a small issue for the time being, the dreams change daily. You know I'd come to you if it were anything important."

Nabi looks to her brother as he further studies the mostly empty canvas. The bad feelings inside her grow worse.

"I sense something growing, it radiates around the room. It makes me sick to my stomach." She barely speaks out loud.

Jin shows no further emotion but she can tell he fakes a smile as he turns to her again.

"I doubt it has anything to do with the otherworldly. I shall send one of your maidens to get you a medicine. Go rest and try not to venture too far from the walls again."

Nabi froze, hoping to skip the scolding today.

"I'm sorry-"

Jin raises a hand to stop her.

"I sent another to watch you. A little birdy had told me V has been less than useful lately."

Nabi tries to show no fear in her features but couldn't withhold her good nature.

"You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Jin looks to the ground with a small laugh but his eyes snap to her full of rigidness.

"My soldiers should be none of your concern sister."

A very uncommon emotion for Nabi started to rear its head. She clenched her fists to her side, nails digging into her palms.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She breathes out trying to calm herself. "Do I not rule this kingdom by your side? Are we not equals?" She steps further into his space. "Tell me if he's hurt so I can help him."

Jin closes the gap between them, capturing her chin between his fingers.

"You know better than to speak to me that way. Know your place girl and do not test me."

She pushes away from his grasp but does not retreat.

"Know my place?! You are nothing without me." She growls.

Jin looked to her with a raised brow, a smirk growing, he breaks the tension with loud claps.

"Now this is a side of you I've rarely seen, let's hope your holy followers in the palace have not heard." He crosses his arms, his right hand playing with his chin in thought. "Although I quite like this side of you." His sickening smile grows.

Nabi comes back to reality quickly, a little shocked herself.

"I-I'm sorry brother." She holds her hands close to her chest. Panic setting her pulse ablaze. "It's this room it makes me...on edge. I do not understand these emotions I'm feeling."

Jin gives her a dismissive gesture, Nabi could not help but feel as though he had meant this meeting to go this way. Like he had expected her to act in such a way.

"Apology accepted." He grabs her by the shoulders and aims her towards the door. "Leave me and get some rest. I'll help the cooks make your favorite soup for dinner."

Nabi turns to hug her brother, not used to small spats with him.

"I love you brother."

Jin lets out a small sigh but answers back.

"As do I sister."

She did not feel any emotion behind the words.

He gently pulls her off himself and walks her to his door. Nabi shows herself out as he closes the door behind her. She catches her lip in her teeth trying to understand the interaction that happened minutes ago, her mind drawing a blank. She can count on one hand the amount of times she has felt anger before, and each has left her with a sense of amnesia. Her soul was not made to house such an emotion. She was created to do and spread good, not to wish harm among others.

Unlike her brother, Nabi is closer in comparison to those who are considered a normal person. Some say she has not reached her full potential yet; she believes she was made that way for a reason. To further her knowing of empathy among the humans, something she cannot rule without.

A hand reaches out to grab her arm. Startling her once again into reality. She did not know how long she had been standing outside her brother's door.

"Guardian." One of her maids, Sara, greets her. "I was told you are not feeling well. Allow me to lead you to your suite."

Nabi just nods. Slipping back into her mind. She contemplates the occurrences in her life, those that had led her into small fits of anger. The first occurrence being when she was a child and a follower had offered her a small poodle as a gift. Later in the day another child had tried to play with it, resulting in the kid crying in the dirt with a bloody nose. The other big occurrence being over a tear in her favorite dress, where she was then being rushed away from a fire, she had started over the bush that had torn it. Today's incident was nowhere near the worse, but it had been a good five years since she had been lost away in such blackness.

Numbly she finally realizes that the sun has set, and she has been tucked into her oversized bed. Sara places a tray full of fruits and the soup her brother had made on her lap.

"You brother said there's leftovers in the kitchen must you want more. I'll be right outside if you need anything more of me."

Nabi gives her a small smile and begins to pick at the fruit on her tray. Usually being her favorite thing to eat, the soup her brother had made seeps off the smell of rotting flesh, quickly making her throw up everything she had eaten that day.

"My dear." Sara runs to her side, starting to clean up the mess. "Are you feeling that ill Guardian?"

She begins to feel her head for signs of fever, while drawing Nabi up from her soiled bed.

"Please sit." She sets Nabi down on an overstuffed couch. "I'll make another bath for you."

Her consciousness fades in and out, finally laying way to a dreamland.

She is once again in her favorite place. The water roars above her but she is not alone. A familiar figure stands in her embrace and warms her soul. With such a perfect scene, she is surprised to find tears covering her cheeks. A deep ache resonates through her chest, she looks down so see a black liquid staining her skin and a hole where her heart should be. Without a warning the man brushes the tears from her face, then brushes back small strands of hair. He captures her cheeks in both hands before kissing her. He smells of earth and tastes of mint. Her heart begins to thrum happily, quicker and quicker as the kiss develops into one of shared tongues and quiet sighs. The ache in her chest also grows. She breaks the kiss to looks down upon herself again, seeing cracks splintering over her skin like cracked stone. It is realized then what this dream is trying to tell her, the thing that would continue to bring on these dark occurrences in her life. If she continued on her path, Love would surely be the best and worst thing to ever happen to her.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

wishing you were somehow here again

oops - angst with a happy ending (of course) 

---

Everywhere he looked, it seemed, Jaskier was there. In the blue of the flowers that sprung up on the sides of the road and in grassy, patchy meadows. In the way Ciri laughed every time she heard a particularly naughty ballad in a tavern. In the flashes of bright color at the corner of Geralt’s vision whenever they passed through a more densely populated village; it was almost always a clothing stall or another troubadour that certainly wasn’t as talented as his - as the bard he’d been traveling with before. 

Geralt mourned his loss in silence, unwilling to voice any pain or suffering when his newly acquired daughter’s happiness was so fragile. Ciri was stronger than she looked but she was still only a child. A child who had seen so much tragedy in such a short amount of time. She needed him to be strong. She needed him to be caring in that gruff, awkward way of his. She needed a father and Geralt...

There was no time for Geralt, a Witcher of impeccable stolidity, to cry or scream or grieve the loss of the only person who’d ever stuck with him by choice. The only person who had looked him dead in his mutated, terrifying eyes and said: “You are worth loving no matter what.”

And Geralt had thrown that love away as if it meant nothing.

---

“Have you heard,” one bar patron asked another, “About the tragic death of that young Viscount to the east?”

“Yeah,” the other man slurred back. “Fell off a cliff, didn’t he?”

“I heard he was mauled by a wyvern,” a third drunkard piped helpfully.

Geralt pulled his cloak low over his brow and closed his eyes. Could be anyone, he thought. It really could be anyone. Doesn’t have to be-

“Used to travel with that Witcher, didn’t he? What was his name, the White Wolf? Gerard or something?”

Oh gods, no. Please. Please don’t say-

“Yeah. He played at being a bard. Went by the stage name Jaskier.”

“Aye, that’s the one.”

Geralt couldn’t stand to listen to another word. He rose from the table and stormed into the darkened street, eyes flicking back and forth to determine which path back to his room would be best. Behind him, an unfamiliar set of hands strummed an overly familiar tune on the lute. He paused to listen, the voice in his memory carrying over the squeaky, unbroken voice from the bar, telling the story of unrequited love in two directions. 

He’d always hated Her Sweet Kiss. More than Toss a Coin and far more than anything else the bard had managed to write about him. Even A Witcher’s Eyes, which waxed overly poetic about all the different shades of yellow, orange, and amber that Geralt’s eyes took on when he hunted or slept or…

Oh gods, Jaskier. How could I have looked at you with anything other than affection after all the time you spent proving that your heart belonged to me alone. Fuck. I’m a fool to have hurt you like that and now...now you’re gone and I can never say I’m sorry.

And the Witcher, a man who was said to have no feelings at all, felt his heart break all over again. 

---

“Ah, Geralt!” Jaskier grinned, flinging his arms around the Witcher’s waist with a confidence he’d never before possessed. His irises, bluer than any cornflower despite what the poets said, flickered with relief and love and mild concern. “I’ve missed you terribly. How did the hunt go? Are you hurt?”

“No,” the Witcher answered truthfully. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even remember going on a hunt. “I’m fine.”

“Melitele be thanked, then. Now let’s get you a bath and something to eat.”

“A kiss, first?”

“Anything for my Witcher,” the bard crooned. His arms moved from Geralt’s waist to wind around his neck, holding him close. He pressed his soft, petal-pink lips against the Witcher’s and tightened the circle of his arms. 

Jaskier was squeezing him closer. Too close. Too strong.

Clinging. Choking. 

Like a rope.

Like a vine!

Geralt burst back into consciousness and flung the poisonous, hallucinogenic plant away from his body with a grimace. He cast Igni and watched the rest of the greenery go up in squealing, shrieking flames. The patch of enchanted shrubbery he’d been hired to dispatch had given him such a nearly-wonderful dream. Such a close glimpse at what he might have had if he hadn’t been such a godsdamned idiot all that time ago.

But he had been. 

And now Jaskier was dead.

And it would be best to stop dreaming about him.

---

“Would you care for a flower, Master Witcher?” an oddly soothing voice asked, proffering the blooming rosebud before Geralt could reject it. “Red for passion, pink for adoration, or yellow for friendship?”

“I have no one left to give a rose,” he chuckled darkly, without looking up. “But thank you for the offer.”

“No one left? How tragic,” the flower seller sighed. “But such is the life of a Witcher, is it not?”

“Aye,” Geralt nodded from beneath his hood. “And the good things that sometimes happen to us always fade too fast.”

“If you had someone to give a rose,” the merchant continued, “What color would you choose?”

“Pink. For adoration, as you said.”

“For that mysterious sorceress the people often associate you with, Master Wolf?”

Geralt let a sad smile slide across his face in the darkness of his cloak’s deep hood and shook his head. A memory flashed before his eyes: “Not the Butcher of Blaviken then. Hmm. The White Wolf, perhaps?”

He shook his head again to clear it and spoke without thinking, spurred on by the feelings stirring back to life in his chest, “For a bard. A bard that sang so beautifully even the birds would stop to listen.”

“Oh Geralt!” a pair of arms encircled the Witcher’s waist and a determined hand yanked the hood back and away. Light flooded Geralt’s vision and by the time he adjusted his pupils, the stranger was so much more familiar than before. “You big oaf! I knew you’d miss me eventually! And what a lovely compliment; far better than your earlier quip about my fillingless pie.”

“J-Jaskier!?” 

The Witcher’s golden eyes were brimming with unsheddable tears. Jaskier was here. Standing before him. 

Jaskier was alive!

The bard was crying as well, those big blue eyes overflowing with joy. The Witcher’s arms moved of their own accord, twining around his companion’s shoulders and pulling him close until they were chest-to-chest. 

“You smell like Roach,” Jaskier giggled, face already buried against the familiar black material of the Witcher’s shirt. “And I don’t go by that name anymore, darling. Didn’t you know that?”

“Wh-why not? I had heard you were dead.”

“I was very clever in faking my own death, don’t you think? Nobody’s tracking me down for any pertinent Princess-hunting information. As far as Nilfgaard cares to know, Jaskier the bard and Julian the Viscount de Lettenhove are both long dead. Dandelion the troubadour? Well, he is alive and kicking, as you can see.”

“Dandelion?”

“You seem dazed. Confused. Lost, perhaps?”

Geralt couldn't do much more than repeat himself, “I thought you were dead.”

“Oh...oh,” Jaskier’s gaze softened and he released his grip on Geralt’s waist. Geralt did not release his hold on the bard’s shoulders, however. He just clung more tightly, held on more fiercely, afraid to let go even for a moment in case this was another dream or apparition. A set of lute-calloused fingers slowly, gently caressed the side of his face and he leaned into the touch with a broken little sound. Jaskier was glowing, it seemed: “You really did miss me.”

“I love you,” Geralt finally admitted. After years of friendship and another year of loneliness and heartache and loss, the Witcher let his defenses fall away. “Of course I missed you. I missed you and mourned you and wished for you to come back from the dead every waking moment for the last four months.”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind my disappearing,” Jaskier bit his lip thoughtfully. “After what you said...back then. But you really loved me back all this time?”

“How could I not love the only person in this world who chose a Witcher over everything else? How could I not love the only person who ever saw me as a man before a monster?”

“Oh, dear heart,” Jaskier breathed, closing the distance between them until only a hair’s breadth separated their lips. “You’ve never been a monster.”

Their first kiss was soft and sweet and everything the bard knew his darling Geralt hid so firmly from the outside world. He had managed to crack the Witcher’s stone heart open and build a place for himself inside, a place that Geralt welcomed him back to as soon as their lips met. 

You see, that’s the thing about flowers: they’ll grow through even the toughest, most impenetrable surface in an effort to reach the light. And the light that shone out of Geralt was worth more to a Buttercup or a Dandelion than a thousand suns.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 7 Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

Author’s Note- anybody still with me? If not, totally understand. This one is self edited- sorry I’m advance. Reblogs are still and always love!

“Are you sure I can't convince you to come home this Christmas?" Her mother's voice had just a tinge of loneliness, but Emma was set and certain.

"I think I would really like to have a Scandi Christmas this year mum! And I think the best present you could give me is to come and do it with me!"

They'd had this conversation eleventy million times. Emma knew her mum was doing so much better, and that her being in Holmes Chapel, even alone, would be ok, she'd be ok. Emma just knew they'd have so much fun in her newly reclaimed life abroad fusing old traditions with the ones they would make. Her mum was just resistant, she loved her home, was a certified home body, and now that it didn't hurt quite so bad, she loved the reminders of all the Christmases before. She was bathing in nostalgia with a smile on her face and a sweet ache inside.

Emma didn't feel the same. She'd had a fair few wonderful holidays in Holmes Chapel, but to many revolved around Harry Styles, and well, Emma's life did not revolve around Harry. Had never and didn't even have the axis centered around December 26 for a once a year moment any more.

She'd just really gotten back into her own life. Well, Emma patted herself on the back, she'd been living her way for 8 months now, that was almost as long as the 9 months she'd stayed in Holmes Chapel.

When her mother had assured her she was well enough that Emma could go to Iceland, the thought of ice capped fjords in summer thrilled her as though she was climbing them, not just studying them.

So she did.

She felt so much better, and her mother was better and she'd climbed to the top of her trail back to her own life, the one she'd made out of choice and ambition and only been sorry for in brief, lonely morning afters.

Emma wanted to share her life with her mother more than anything, certainly more than she wanted to spend a holiday in a place she now almost entirely associated with hurt. Heartache takes many forms, deep and abiding grief, the kind like she imagines phantom limbs give amputees years on. It also can hurt like a quick sharp mishap, a slip of the knife, full of crimson pain and stitches.

She'd had both together and then his deep cut on top of the other last Christmas. The wound was too fresh to go back at the moment. The good memories were still colored crimson. She needed to wait until her lover's memory flashed with true colors instead of red or blue. Her father's memory was cozier and longer, it was wrapped around the warm pink of her mother, but even it was still too tender.

She needed time.

Emma also had no idea where Harry was these days. She'd cut off all methods of inquiry.  She wasn't staying up late googling even, ever, not anything. Not his naked or Camille's. They'd be going on well into their second trip round the sun by now. Probably more deeply in love than he openly confessed to her. Emma didn't need evidence of it. It just opened the stitches she'd sewn herself.

So, no Holmes Chapel, no Google alerts or text messages. She'd blocked his number.

"Well, I suppose if you insist, we can try Amsterdam for Christmas." Her mother covered the sigh at the end of that sentence and Emma appreciated it. She suppressed a wry smile. Her mother could also still hear it in her reply she was sure.

"Oh mum! You won't regret it. It will be so lovely! I can't wait. I'll meet you at the airport, then we will go to my favorite cafe and take a snow walk. It will be picturesque. You'll fall in love, you'll see."

"Alright, darling. I'll give it a chance. I just hate to miss Anne's party two years in a row." Emma cringed and was happy this was not a video chat. She almost gasped and blew her cover when her mum said. "Won't you miss Anne's party? You're close with Gemma, and" she breathed while her mother hesitated, "and Harry?"

God, did everyone know?

"It'll be fine mum. I'll call Gemma. She'll understand."

She would, after they'd had that conversation the last time they'd spoken.

Gem had not really cornered her so much as insisted they get out of the house as often as possible from the day after Boxing Day until she'd left to head back to London.

She, the lovely friend that she was, didn't actually bring it up until she was back for Mother's Day. And she waited until Emma told her she was headed back to her program in the fall with a twinkle in her eyes even Emma knew had been long gone for too long.

Ever the blunt one, Gemma didn't even cozy up to the subject, "so did you break his heart or did he break yours?" She took a big sip of her cider and leveled her state over the rim at Emma.

Emma could feel her face blanching or heating or giving some indication who's heart was broken. Her elegant side step to that mine field was, "huh?" Then a moment later. "Who are you talking about?" To Gemma's patient silence.

"Alright, if that's how you want to be." Gemma playfully rolled her eyes. "You and my brother are not stealth, at all. You would make eyes at each other all night at my mum's and then disappear for the same amount of time. Remember I live with him."

"Do not." Emma didn't bother to deny it.

"I suppose not really, but as much as any one "lives"with him, I do over Christmas, and did for most of my life. I know when he's smitten with someone, and when he's got them around his little finger too." Gemma snorted and ate a chip. "His stupid walk even changes, all of a sudden he swaggers and walks hip first. It's gross!" Her face screwed up.

Emma tried to remember if she had ever seen this hip walk. She supposed she had when he'd walk towards her at the Boar's Head. Or occasionally when he'd corner her by the mistletoe.

"It's not gross." Slipped out.

"That right there," Gemma pointed. "Is gross. Your face all soft and flushed for my little brother. Bleach!" She sighed mixed with a bit of good humor. "But I suppose that means he broke your heart. I can't believe he just turned up with another lady. Did you at least know? I feel like I always know way to much about my brother's sex life."

"Huh?" Emma laughed.

"I just feel like I know way too much about his sex life, due to blind items and pap shots. Thought you might feel the same."

"It's not so simple as that, really. I knew because of that, about his girlfriend." Still couldn't say her name. "But I think he felt like I'd broken his heart, if I'm honest. And That's why he turned up with her. To hurt me back, in case I hadn't seen."

"Did you."

"Certainly not on purpose. My heart and head and life were in shambles, still are, and he made an assumption, and never let me explain."

"Why don't you explain to me."

So she did, haltingly, Emma talked about it all, tears on her cheeks about her dad and then her mum, and even Harry. The sad footnote of loss in a story of grief.

"Why didn't you just tell him?" Gemma asked the question Emma asked herself a lot.

"I guess, I couldn't say it and I couldn't text it. And it confirmed to me that he really only knew me so little, that he could think I'd take advantage of him."

"Did you ever think that was more to do with how other people have treated him than you? he's had to learn to expect the worst of people he wants to trust?"

"Don't make me feel bad for him. Remember? He broke my heart and found someone new. Had the audacity to move on before me!" Emma tried to joke.

"I think, I think you guys got into a mess and never bothered to clean it up until it was so unkempt you couldn't find the good parts." Gemma said after a quiet, mirthless moment.

"Oh no!" Emma tapped her head. "I kept all the good parts."

"Firstly, blech, I wish I could bleach that smile from my head, but 2nd-Is that enough?" Gemma asked.

"It'll have to be, I suppose." She swallowed the moisture in her eyes, "he told me he loves her. Straight to my broken face. Then piled on how he never got the time to love me."

Gem looked curious, then cautious, "I think he does. But it's cuz he wants to. Wants that desperately, to be in love. It may be some leftovers from you."

"Yeah?" Her eyes really pooled then and she bat her cheek to stop more from swarming. "Well I'll have to take that as cold comfort then, that she gets the seed of love he wanted to grow with me."

"I'm sorry. Sure he is too." Gemma sighed. "I'm so sorry for all of it."

"Yeah, yeah." Emma leaned on her friend, her only real one right then. "Me too."

And they left it at that. Emma's eyes were swimming and Gemma blinked a few times too rapidly. They hoisted their glasses. "To almosts!" Emma said.

"To dad's!" Gemma said. Then they both did cry.  Talked about Robin's diagnoses. Then it was Emma's turn to be the shoulder, to bolster.

Life went on, the way it always seems to do. Emma and her mom laughed more and then her mum even laughed on her own. By that summer, they both stood on their own two feet, without leaning on each other, except when they wanted to.

By June, there was no reason to stay.

"So, are your roommates excited to have you back?"

Her mum was making tea and packing her sandwiches.

"Mum, I actually had to find mew roommates. The others had to fill the room I was in." She could see the down turn of her mum's lips from the side. Guilt was heavy. "It's not a big deal. The people I'm rooming with are other grad students, I know them. And it's works for the budget. Mum, you know I'm not riding the bus to camp right? I don't need a sandwich. There will be food at the airport and on the plane?"

"Won't be home cooked." Was all she said.

This wasn't for her then. It was some sort of amends, or a thank you. Like the tea she had taken to bringing to her to her room when she woke up, and before bed.

"That's true." Emma kissed her cheek, "I'm gonna go finish packing." She ate the sandwich on the plane later.

Counting bags, she frowned. She'd acquired a lot. She sincerely hoped the bag wasn't as heavy as her heart.

Emma was going to miss Holmes Chapel.

She did, surprisingly as much as she missed school the first 6 months she was home. Maybe, those feelings were tangled up in other events, the other missing pieces of her former puzzle.

I'm any case, she found herself better at keeping in touch

"So, any cute boys in Amsterdam?" Gemma chuckled over the phone one mid December afternoon.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Was Emma's laughing response.

"I do, I really do." And Gemma, the blunt tongued, fierce hearted girl sounded suspiciously like a woman in love. Then she pretended to complain, because she was Gemma, about how They were both a little spoon, pretending to be annoyed about it.

"I'm really happy for you." Emma interrupted, meant it, even though she still didn't know if there were any cute boys in Amsterdam because she was still hung up on the cute boy who spent Christmas in Holmes Chapel.

Gemma must have picked up the stain of blue in her voice, "Hey, Emma, I think maybe I should tell you something-"

The buzz from her hallway door went then, and Gemma didn't get to finish.

"Hey Gem, my flat mate lost her key. I'll have to ring you back. Tell me then?"

And then it was Christmas, well Christmas Eve and she was at Schipol with a giant sign that said, "Katherine the great( est mum)!"

"Oh, bless you! Could you have made a bigger sign?"

"I'm sure I could have tried. Maybe found some glitter. Think a flat mate has the body sort somewhere." Her mum narrowed her eyes and pinched her cheek.

"Well, if you've finished embarrassing me, show me this dreadful country that's not England and all it has in terms of festive cheer."

"Let's go get some nuts then!" Emma laughed.

"I beg your pardon?" Her mum put on the prude and Emma laughed at her over the top expression as they made their way to the train to the city center.

Her famous Danish bakery was the first stop. "I thought we would have a taste test. We can rate them."

"Do you already have a favorite?" Her mum asked.

"Yeah." Emma thought about the trifle Harry's mum made and that he'd sneak to the boar's head to feed her in bed. It had only taken him watching her eat it once for him to recognize her glee. It was his favorite too. "But, I want to know what yours is!" Emma brought her memory and watering mouth to the present moment.

They ate their way through Christmas Eve And decorated her Kerstbomen. "Sorry the tree is already up. They were starting to disappear for purchase, but reappear in everyone else's windows! I had to grab one."

"Oh, no dear, it's alright. And actually, I brought a gift from Anne. I saw her the other day and had been complaining about you making me come all the way over here-"

"It's an hour flight!"

"Well, I suppose it will do, but it's not home."

Thank god.

"Anywho, she came by the day after and brought a present for your tree." Her smile was so expectant, Emma was expecting the worst. "It's so important to have good friends." Her smile was cryptic. What friends- Anne to her mum or Gemma to her? Who was the present actually from.

The box was festive. And wrapped beautifully just like Anne's house was always decorated so well. Emma set it aside, "I'll open it tomorrow mum, On christmas, at the proper time."

"Oh no! You must open it now. Gemma told her mom it was for your tree." Ah, mystery solved. Gemma was great at wrapping. When Emma opened it, her heart stopped a full beat.

At first she thought it was the frog, the one she'd gotten for him. That he was giving it back to her like a seal on their relationship that never was. But when she picked it up, she realized it was a proper ornament, not just ornamental. It was a frog, holding a heart.

What Did that mean, whose heart was it?

His for her? Or hers back where he decided it belonged.

"Where will you put it?" Her mother interrupted her train of thought.

"Um, dunno," she moved around the tree to an inconspicuous place. "I guess here." She shrugged.

"Oh no, dear. It's by far the cutest one we have." Her hand scanned over the other ornaments, a hodge podge of beloved ones and ones from Christmas markets. "It goes here." Her Mum stood and took the ornament from its hidden place, placed it front and center. "Let's get the rest up and take a picture."

She'd gotten her mother an aura frame for Mother's Day and she was now obsessed with adding to the Revolving cue of photos.

"Course, ok." Emma ripped her eyes from the frog, but they kept drifting back to it.

It was an hour of a little too much wine and her mother's cheer. It lightened her spirit and got her mind off it's wandery at Harry's intentions, until after silly smiley photos and teary eyed huggy ones, her mum said, "now let's take one for Anne and Gemma. Show them how nice it looks.

Emma thought she'd done a good job at the photo, at arranging her face the way it was supposed to look.

She must have been wrong.

Later, a number she knew by heart but had no current contact for came through. "Your smiles fake. Do you not like it at all?"

She didn't answer it on Boxing Day, or the day after, it wasn't until New Year's Day that she realized she'd blown her resolutions to Smithereens before they could even uphold their name.

All she'd texted back to his cold question was, "how come you're the only person who can always tell."

She may have never noticed she'd done it, with the way her group chats were going off, except he replied before her hangover even subsided.

[ditttiii]

Brothers Conflict || 03.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU)  (I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER THREE

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: Language (sfw)

Masterlist

"How about this?"

"Nah, it's too sideways," you reply from where you are standing near the doorway of your bedroom.

"Right or left?" Sunmi asks, as she grips the frame and distances her torso from the wall, trying to see for herself where she should shift the frame. From the looks of it, she's failing spectacularly at it.

Suppressing a snort, you answer ‘left’ and hum when she tilts the frame and you are finally satisfied with its position on the wall. Walking back in, you marvel at the sheer grandness of your room for the umpteenth time as you take in all the space around you. Roughly four times the size of your old bedroom, it was huge. 

Floor to ceiling windows on the side opposite the bedroom door, before which was your queen-sized bed. A decent size, intricately designed bedside table beside it, with the floor underneath covered with a soft, plush rosy white carpet. A walk-in closet the size of your old bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, curtains heavy enough to suffocate and kill you if they were to ever fall upon your body; your new bedroom screams rich.  

It would be a lie to say that you don't feel intimidated. Raised in a middle-class, humble neighbourhood, you hadn't in your wildest dreams ever imagined living in a room like this. But here you are, soaking in the reality of the moment; and realising that it feels like something between a dream and a nightmare. 

Nearly four hours since you first started unpacking, and five since you had first met your new family, most of your room was organised. All boxes untaped and emptied as you and Sunmi worked hard to make the unnecessarily large, empty room less of a hotel room and more like the bedroom of a 19-year-old girl. 

Sighing, you push the last book of your novel collection into the bookshelf. Made from some sort of whitewood, much like everything else, it was designed intricately and looming large over your small shadow. 

"This is it."

Slouching, you fall onto your back, eyes straying to the ceiling above and the textures carved onto it, refusing to reply to Sunmi’s statement. Agreeing would mean that you'd have to let her go and you don't think you can, the isolation and abnormality of the situation already sinking in and scaring you. 

 "Mmn," you reply noncommittally instead. 

A long sigh, and then your best friend is curling on the floor beside you, her hand snaking around yours, fingers intertwining, as she silently lets you know that she is here for you. Repressing the tears you can already feel trying to escape your eyes, you squeeze her hand back. 

The clammy, ice-cold touch of your skin against hers goes unmentioned as you both lay there in silence. 

"I'll call you every day," you whisper, your voice choked as your death grip around Sunmi's waist tightens, and she lets out a strangled moan before pushing you away. 

"Woman, stop being so dramatic! You'll see me back in college every freaking day once summer ends and you know I'll come to see you whenever you want me to, the hour-long ride be damned," Sunmi chides. There’s no bite in her words, and her voice wobbles despite her trying to act tough, but you don't call her out on it and only nod. 

"You better, you airhead, lord knows you'll probably sob your body dry without seeing me every day." 

A giggle comes out of your best friend's tall, lean body, one you are entirely too envious of, and her eyes soften, your smile softening with it. 

"Take care, will ya?" 

"Always," you whisper back, and with one last kiss thrown over her shoulder, she leaves. Her figure grows smaller and farther with every step she takes, and you bite your lip to prevent a call from tumbling out. Not moving an inch until you hear the distant roar of her car driving away, you finally shut the door when you no longer hear or see her car. 

Suddenly you feel scarily small. Like a tiny, irrelevant existence born in a world too large and glamorous; a world where you evidently do not belong. 

Meandering through the floor, you gaze at the picture frames on the wall as though you are the actress of some old seventies cinema, bemoaning the absence of a long lost lover. 

Dramatic, yes, but you have always been more on the theatrical spectrum of humankind, and it isn't like there is much you can do right now anyway. Not unless you want to hole up in your room and stew in your sadness alone. And even though that might sound appealing to most (considering what your room now looks like), it wasn't something you felt like doing at the moment. 

So you mindlessly gaze at the pictures, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow in the darkening hallway as you try to find some semblance of familiarity, a speck of comfort or intimacy. 

"Y/n?" a soft voice calls out to you, and you twist on your heels, your eyes meeting with those of Yoongi. 

"Yoongi-oppa." Voice coming out soft, your words fade at the end as your eyes track the way Yoongi's face glows when the rays of the setting sun hit his skin. Long messy dark blonde hair makes space for his glittering curvy eyes to shine through, and your breath gets caught somewhere in your chest when you look at the vision that was Min Yoongi. 

"Exploring?" he asks casually, but even without knowing him for all that long, you can detect the underlying layer of concern in his voice. You don't know if he is being open with you right now, or if you can just read him well, but the concern makes your heart feel a little warmer. 

"Something like that." Your answer is ambiguous, but Yoongi doesn't ask you to elaborate, so you don't add anything more, turning back and looking at the pictures again instead.

"This something you enjoy?" Yoongi asks as he moves beside you, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pants, and leans; making himself comfortable against the wall.  

Your eyes stray to him. "Sounds like you don't."

"Not really my forte, I can appreciate it from a distance, sure, but not an enthusiast," he replies, the back of his head hitting the wall behind as he looks up at you. 

Humming, you shrug. "Same, I guess, it's just fascinating to me. I wish I was smart enough to understand what half of these actually mean, but I am not, so I just appreciate the beauty and move on."

"Fair enough." 

You nod and let the silence reign again, but it's a comfortable silence, the kind of quiet where you are both lost in your own thoughts but at the same time appreciate the company of the other.  

Slowly the sun sets behind you, and the glassed walls shimmer one last time before the ceiling lights are switched on, bathing the entire floor in warm but bright light. 

Yoongi had been silent the entire time as you explored the floor like a child in a zoo, poking and prodding the potted plants, oo-ing and aah-ing over the art around you, fascinated and occupied with the attractions around.   

But when the lights switch on, he clears his throat and gets up from the couch he had taken a seat on some time ago, head tilting as he wordlessly asks you a question. You nod back and smile, making your way to him as you finally get ready to spend some time with the rest of your newly acquired family. 

As you both make your way to the main hall, you don't miss how your heart is feeling much lighter now. The silent company that Yoongi had provided you with seems to have put you at ease and calmed your racing thoughts. 

Walking into the kitchen alone, you try your best to make as little noise as possible. Yoongi, much to your displeasure, had promised that he'd meet you out in a few minutes only to disappear inside of his bedroom and leave you to your own devices.  

The sudden bout of bravado from earlier had left your body too, in its place leaving raring, gut-twisting anxiety. 

Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, you take out a bottle and pour yourself a glass. The chilled water slides down your throat, quenching your thirst, and you let out a satisfied sigh, smacking your lips in contentment after. 

"That thirsty, huh?" 

You jump, startled, heart racing and in your throat, as your gaze snaps to the doorway and finds Seokjin standing there. Suit coat hung over his left arm, and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, he was clearly returning back home after a workday. 

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit outta me!" 

Your brain to mouth filter is seemingly not working after being startled. Feeling anxious was a problem enough, but being scared after was evidently enough to send your last two brain cells out the window. Your common sense and the knowledge that Kim Seokjin was now your stepbrother, eldest stepbrother, flying out the window along with them. 

You hear crickets chirping in the distance as an awkward silence blankets the room, and in that moment you want to die. Spontaneously combust and float away into thin air, disappear, dissolve, vanish—die. 

"I am so sorry, can we pretend I didn't say that, “you voice out meekly, your eyes avoiding Seokjin’s and instead finding purchase on the wall behind him, seemingly fascinated by the utter whiteness of it. 

Hearing a chuckle ring and break the awkwardness in the air, you shift your gaze to the source of said chuckle and catch your eldest brother's gaze. "It's alright Y/n, I get that this is a big adjustment. Please don't feel like you need to rush on anybody's accord, take your time."

And then Kim Seokjin smiles—his pouty, full lips stretched into a small but ridiculously warm smile, and something in your chest clenches at the sight of it. Warning bells ring in the back of your mind, and you squash the thoughts threatening to come forward, their not-so-appropriate nature resulting in an immediate rejection from your end. 

Mumbling a thank you, you let him know you'll be down soon and then dash to your bedroom, slamming the door closed once you're inside and sinking down onto the floor. 

What the hell was that!?

Raking a hand through your hair, you groan in annoyance, wincing when said hand gets stuck in a tangle and pulls a few strands loose.

Looking back at your impression so far in front of Seokjin, one of your seven step brothers, it had been nothing but absolutely marvellous. So you can't imagine what could possibly go wrong when you sit down at the dinner table and are surrounded by all seven of them. 

Nothing, nothing at all, nope-nada-zilch!

Frustrated, you slide a hand down your face, hoping to calm down, but the move only ends up irritating your skin under. The day has been long, and all that you pray for now is that it ends soon. Your bed, which from the looks of it was fit for royalty, was beckoning you over too. 

With one last huff, you are pushing yourself up onto your feet and to the bathroom to splash some water, before you go and join the rest of your new family. 

Pulling the chair in, you wring your hands nervously under the table, away from any prying eyes. One by one, the rest of your family filters in and takes a seat; Seokjin and Yoongi both pick their seats at the two heads of the table. Hoseok and Namjoon sit on either side of you, with Jimin plopping himself down opposite you, and getting flanked by Jungkook and Taehyugn on either side. 

Not much conversation had taken place as they picked their seats, everyone sufficiently tired enough after a long day, but they had smiled or nodded at you when they first entered the dining room. 

'Well most of them at least,'  you think, eyeing the two youngest, who had both refused to give you even a cursory glance, resulting in your smile going unseen and unreciprocated. Their attitude, however, doesn't bother you too much at this point; as it was, they were virtually nothing more than strangers to you. 

Conversations pick up around you, and you feel slightly out of place, as though you are a guest over for dinner rather than their new stepsister, but the feeling doesn't last long, because both Namjoon and Hoseok soon pull  you into a conversation. Inquiries come forth about your day, and how your unpacking had gone.

The conversation is mostly superficial, nothing too emotionally challenging; neither of them ask how it feels being a part of their family or something like that, and you are relieved. Grateful, because you don't know if you'd be able to answer those questions anyway. The whole situation is still very odd no matter how many minutes of the day pass. 

Someone clears their throat, and your eyes snap to Seokjin, who was pushing his chair back and picking up his glass, the red wine inside sloshing with the movement. 

"I've done this before, and yet it never gets any less nerve-wracking," Seokjin starts, and your eyes furrow in confusion, but he continues before you can think about it any more. "Y/n," he says and tips his head in your direction, "I know this must feel a little scary—actually, scratch that, you're probably terrified right now, and that's okay.” he pauses, and takes a breath before continuing, “I'm sure it feels crazy suddenly being thrust into an already established family and being told that now you're one of them, and I just want you to know that I get it. We get it, and we are here for you. If you don’t want to accept us as family, that’s okay too; all of us would understand and support whatever decision you make. I just...” Sighing, he locks eyes with you.

 “...I just hope you can let us in eventually, family or not." 

Seokjin's eyes bore into yours as he says this, stressing the 'us', and you gulp, feeling the back of your throat tighten at his words. Sensing the fine thread of control that you had over your emotions loosening, you swivel your gaze to the table instead, nodding, your vision growing blurry as you try to blink back the burn in your eyes. 

The room goes quiet, as the boys give you time to collect yourself—or sob, you don't know, but you appreciate the consideration nonetheless.

It was going good, it really was. You were holding on, no matter how precarious the hold was, you were holding on. Grasping onto that last string of control and restraint you had with all of your might. 

But then Hoseok is wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, letting you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, and the string snaps, his neck growing wet as tears streamed down your face and slid down his skin. 

For a few minutes, you forget that you were now surrounded by strangers who you had to accept and call your family. For a few false, delusional minutes you forget that they don't know you, that the care they were showing was genuine and not something they were obligated to. That the one whose hands were drawing circles across your back, the one whose voice was whispering reassurances in your ear—stupid sweet-nothings that you would tell a small child to make them feel better, actually gave a shit about you.  

You forget the reality and slip into a safe headspace, letting the warmth of another human encircle you, hold you, wrap you in its cocoon as you weep. 

A/N: dedicating this chapter to @mel-gonzalez07​, one of my oldest, most loyal readers, and more than anything else an amazing friend. ily angel 💖  

Y/n is going through some shitt here. Imagine being thrust into a dynamic that has been established for years, and then having to act like you are meant to be a part of it. 

The taglist for the story can be found:- here. A kind reminder that tumblr sometimes doesn’t give an alert for a tag notification, but you’ll find the notification in your notification dash. So, check it once a week as I usually update weekly.

Feedback means the world to me, so tell me what you thought. What would you do if you were in oc’s shoes?        

Until next time! Take care you sweet soul and Oo! Go stream folklore 💖 

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[smallmediumproblems]

My Soul to Keep

“You know you shouldn’t stay,” said Jon. Callum Brody slouched resolutely before him in the middle of Night Street. His arms were wrapped around his middle, and his face was dominated by a truly world-class pout. Jon knelt down in spite of his protesting knees. “The Dark will have to chase something. As soon as we leave, you’re all it has left.”

“Don’t think so,” said Callum. His eyes fixed on a nearby stub of grass that had grown all the way up through the concrete only to wither in the darkness. “You’ve been out there, yeah? Past the end of the street? There’s still people, right? I can use them.”

“There are,” said Jon. “Some might even consider it a welcome distraction.”

“Long as it’s not me, that’s fine,” Callum shrugged. “Maybe fun, even. This place was getting boring.”

Jon studied him for a long moment. He’d expected him to be angry when they started their work. He had been fully prepared to fend off a supernatural tantrum. Instead, Callum had gone immediately to sulking. Jon could Know why, of course, if he really wanted to.

But it never hurt to ask, first.

“Do you think you’ll be alright?”

Callum finally met his gaze. He finally looked upset, and frightened and hurt, and all of the other things that he’d managed not to be in front of the other children. “Are you stupid? No. Nothing’s alright. Not anymore.”

“I know that,” Jon said softly. “I just… You shouldn’t have to do this alone. If there’s any way we can help, I-”

“Get out.”

Jon made no move to get up.

“I said get out, we’re done here,” Callum repeated, louder, as if perhaps Jon hadn’t heard. “I’m not coming with you. You want to help, let me have this. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Alright.” Jon stood slowly. “Alright. I wish I could promise that we were coming back,” he said.

Callum’s expression softened. It occurred to Jon that he probably hadn’t considered his unlikely guests being in danger; either because he didn’t care, or because he tried not to think of the world outside of his domain.

“Thanks,” said Callum. To Jon’s surprise, it sounded like he meant it. “Um. Don’t die, I guess. Or, whatever happens to people now.”

Jon laughed slightly. “You too. I guess.”

They both turned on their heels and paced back to their respective parties. Callum went into the darkness, unflinching at the hungry shadows that followed him. Jon retreated into the light.

“Did he change his mind?” asked Martin. He took a second to shift the weight of the bodies in his arms. Marnie had gone sleepily boneless in the soft expanse of his jumper, but Gavin still clung to his shoulder like an especially squirmy bandolier.

“No,” said Jon. He glanced down in surprise as little Jeremy took his hand, but didn’t pull away. “No, this… It’s best for all of them, him included. He understood that.”

“D’you think he wanted to come?” Martin asked.

“I don’t know,” said Jon, “I don’t think he would have admitted it. I certainly wasn’t about to make him tell me.”

Martin nodded, running a hand over Gavin’s back idly. “Kay. So, what now?”

“Now, we go back,” said Jon, loud enough so that some of the crowd around them could hear. “Back to the Lonely. I can get us there faster, now that we’ve already been. If that makes sense?”

“Nope!” Martin said brightly. “Never does. I’m dead certain you’re just making this stuff up half the time. But if it works, does it reeeeally matter?”

“I suppose not,” said Jon.

“What’s the Lonely?” asked a small voice from his side. He looked down to see Katya keeping pace with Jeremy, still eyeing Jon suspiciously. She wasn’t in the business of trusting strange adults.

“It’s like a big, awful haunted house,” Martin explained. “But instead of fun and cool, it’s sad and the worst. There’s still fog, though, so it’s got that in common.”

“Is my mum there?” asked Kayla.

“Yes,” Jon assured her, “In fact, I think… both of them, yes. That’s why we’re going. There are a lot of mums there, and I expect they’re missing you very badly right now.”

The first thing they’d learned about Night Street was that none of the parents were real. Their fear was far too valuable to let them waste away here until their children were of age.  Instead, the houses were populated with crude fabrications, stitched together from flickering television light and the muffled vibrations of shouting behind closed doors. They just needed to be hostile and sharp enough to drive “their” children away, into the arms of the Dark. Nothing more complicated or less horrible than that.

Accordingly, that was the first thing they’d explained to Michelle when they finally caught her. She was not easy to catch. She was faster than should have been possible, and ran from what she thought were two new spectors sent to torment her. Her downfall was that she preferred to hide. Not even the Dark could keep her from the Archivist’s sight. Unlike the shadows that prowled her house, Jon and Martin had every intention of actually catching her, not just letting her run and find a new place to simmer in her fear. When she darted to avoid Martin, she was caught up in the tangle of Jon’s arms, and the constant, quiet stream of words that spilled from him the moment he held her.

It’s alright. This is safe. They won’t get you. They can’t hurt you with me here.

Michelle screamed and cried and begged to be let go, but with each word, she knew more closely that he wasn’t lying.

It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. We won’t hurt you, and neither will anything else, I won’t let them.

Michelle cried more softly, and pleaded for him not to leave.

I’m right here. You’re alright.

We’re not leaving without you.

Michelle knew that they wouldn’t.

She asked if they could help wake her father. Every now and then, she was able to dart across the house into his bedroom while the monsters weren’t looking, but he never gave her more than a mumble of annoyance for her efforts. Jon told her that no, that wasn’t her father at all- he could even show her the empty bed, the supposed bulge under the covers just a trick of the light, the muttering a creak of the floorboards. Her father was somewhere else entirely. (Jon had to look first, because he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to tell her what he found). He was in the Lonely. He was there because he was looking for her.

This discovery brought a new layer into their plan. In some ways, it actually made things simpler. The proof of concept was the important bit - if they could rescue one child, it was theoretically possible for them to rescue the rest, that was just maths and a matter of time, so very much time - but they had always gotten stuck on what to do with them. They couldn't take them all the way to the tower. The other Fear domains were arguably much more dangerous. Jon could keep a watchful eye on them all, but protecting them was another matter. Using the children to rescue their parents didn’t just free more people. It would provide shepherds who were uniquely willing and able to care for their newly acquired flock. Some children had parents in other domains. Some didn’t have parents left to find at all. But the overwhelming majority were in the Lonely, and it was such a number that all of them combined could hang on to the lost children until a more permanent solution was found.

So they told Michelle that they would get her to her parents.

Then, they told Sam.

And Chris.

And Briana.

And they did not stop until there was no one left to tell.

“I miss my mum,” said Ron, who was trailing close behind Martin. He yawned over an envious look up at Marnie. “When can I have a turn?”

“Ten minutes,” Martin said sternly, “That’s what we negotiated. Except that time doesn’t work, so, um, whenever Mr. Sims says so.”

“Excu- don’t bring me into this,” said Jon. “I will not be made into a hug trafficker.”

“I thought you were Mr. Sims,” Ron said faintly to Martin. Martin went very red, and Jon arched an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” asked Jon.

“Hmm,” Martin made an interested noise, like Ron had just shared a new and exciting fact about an obscure topic. What he did not do was offer any correction to Ron’s statement. Jon raised the other eyebrow to match.

“I wonder where you got that idea?” Jon pressed.

“Julia said that Mark said that you two kissed,” said Ron.

“Gross,” Jeremy commented. “Kisses are gross.”

“It wasn’t a gross kiss, it was nice,” Ron argued. “Like on the cheek, and then the other person smiles a lot.”

“All kisses are gross,” Jeremy repeated adamantly.

“Here, I’ll show you-”

“Ah-ah-ah, absolutely no kissing without permission,” Martin yelped. “Here. Jon?”

“I mean, as long as it’s not gross,” said Jon, struggling very hard to keep a straight face. Martin rolled his eyes.

He kissed Jon on the cheek.

Jon smiled quite a lot.

[gabxbyr]

See You Again (English version) Newt x Reader

(English is not my native language so excuse me if there is any mistake)

Finally they had made it. The Right Arm, the end of the Scorch, the end of hell, the end of WICKED. They didn't believe in it anymore and yet here they were, all sitting on the rocks high above the ground, contemplating the people who were gradually packing up the camp in order to leave tomorrow at dawn.

Y/N had delicately placed her head on Newt's shoulder in order to make the most of their newly acquired freedom. She could finally allow herself this simple gesture without having the impression that it was not the moment. Indeed the blond had confessed his love for her just before they fought the grievers to get out of the Maze but with the battle, Chuck's death -at this thought the girl's heart tightened- and the crossing of the Scorch they had never had the opportunity to live their relationship fully. And here, with her cheek on his warm skin and her nostrils impregnated with his masculine scent, she felt like she belonged. On top of that she was with her friends and that's all that mattered. Rather with a part of her friends sadistically reminded her brain as if to tarnish her sudden joy... It is true that many of her companions had died so that they could get there and she could not forget it. First there was Ben, a close friend of Minho and her, as they were all runners; then it was Alby's turn, their leader and their guide, to disappear. Then Chuck's sacrifice, which she still had a hard time getting over -maybe not as hard as Thomas, but still- and at the same time Gally's death, which saddened her, and then the last death, Winston's. Y/N still remembered his death and the way he had been treated. Y/N still remembered his screams when those damn cranks had lacerated his belly and that tragic gunshot that meant the death of their friend. At the thought she couldn't suppress a shiver.

-Y/N, Newt's voice suddenly rang out, waking her from her lethargy. Are you all right ?

He was surely aware of her silence and her shivers.

-Yes do not worry, she answered by playing gently with the fingers of the blond whom she fixed with a nostalgic face. I just thought of all the sacrifices which we had to endure to arrive here and of all the close ones that we lost.

Newt looked at the girl pressed up against him with a mixture of love, compassion and sadness in his brown orbs. He understood exactly what she was getting at, after all Alby was one of his best friends and he would never know they were out of the Maze. Yet he also knew that if he could do it again he wouldn't change a thing if it meant he could be here with her. It was with this thought that he gently lifted her face with his fingers under her chin to plunge his eyes into her Y/E/C ones.

-I know how you feel, we all feel it here. But you know as well as I do that we wouldn't be here without them, and maybe what I'm about to say will sound completely selfish, but I'm glad we're both here.

As an answer she gave him one of her sincere and radiant smiles that illuminated her beautiful face damaged by the dust and the sun. The blond wanted to bend down to kiss her sweet lips but Minho didn't count on it and took the girl by the armpits and made her turn in the air.

-Did I hear Princess depressed ?

-Minho ! Y/N shouted, ripped from the sweet embrace of the former second in command. Put me down right now or I swear I'll throw up on you !

-Better you throw up on me than on your loser boyfriend's mouth, said the asian boy proud of him. Don't you think ?

-Her loser boyfriend fucks you.

Newt had wanted to take a stern voice but he failed miserably far too happy to see his girlfriend and his best friend playing like children and laughing so lightly. It reminded him of the happy times he had spent on the Glade away from the horror of the outside world. Frypan must have been thinking the same thing because while the two of them were still running around behind each other the former Galder's cook approached the blond.

-I miss the Glade.

-Me too, Newt admitted. But now that it's all over I'm happy.

-Yes, it's all over, Fry murmured with a smile.

As the two troublemakers returned to sit with them breathless from their childishness Thomas arrived to join them, Chuck's statuette clutched in his fingers. There was a sudden silence as nostalgic thoughts undoubtedly resurfaced.

-If only Chuck could have seen this.

It was the brown man's voice, full of immeasurable sadness. Slowly Y/N put his hand on his shoulder in compassion as Newt cleared his throat.

-He would be so proud of you, Tommy.

The nickname made Thomas smile softly as he murmured a "yeah" in response. He missed little Chuck terribly, but was grateful to have Newt, Minho, Y/N, Frypan and Teresa by his side. He wondered where Teresa could be. He felt the need to see her and to hold her in his arms as the blond did with his friend. He was going to ask where she was but he was cut by Frypan who greeted Aris by shouting.

-l kinda like that kid.

Minho gave a septic look to Fry showing his disagreement with him.

-Yeah. I still don't trust him, though.

His remark made the blockards laugh, recognizing the typical suspicious behavior of the Asian.

-Minho in all his splendor, ladies and gentlemen.

The former keeper of the runners looked at the only girl of the group by raising his eyebrows then he smirked which never announces anything good.

-You, he began, pointing at her. Believe me I smell you ! You smell like klunk !

Suddenly a mini scream was heard coming out of his mouth as Y/N had just hit him in the shoulder.

-I call mistreatment of Asians racism, Frypan said.

-Thank you bro, Minho thanked him, pretending to cry. We understand each other !

After a new laugh from the blockards, Thomas remembered the question he wanted to ask before they debated Aris. He then turned his jet-black eyes towards his comrades.

-Hey, where's Teresa ?

Y/N frowned a little at the name. From the moment this girl arrived, she had found her strange and her doubts had been reinforced during their crossing of the Scorched Earth, but except for Minho and Newt, whenever she talked about it with someone, they told her that her suspicions were simply based on a feeling of jealousy because she was no longer the only girl in the group. Nonsense! The proof was that she got along very well with Brenda. But the girl with Y/H/C hair preferred to keep quiet and ignore the question unlike her boyfriend.

-Yeah, the blonde answered, pointing to a sharp rock in the distance behind them. She went up there.

The brunet thanked him with a nod before leaving hurriedly to meet her. They were all aware of Thomas' feelings towards his blue-eyed goddess and although the others didn't care -except maybe Minho who didn't hold Teresa in his heart- Y/N had a bad feeling.

This was confirmed when shortly afterwards bergs belonging to the WICKED began to arrive in the distance. The girl's heart began to pound ferociously as adrenaline and fear mingled within her. They had only just regained their fucking freedom!

The gladers only reacted when the first bombs hit the camp floor.

-Let's get moving, Minho yelled at them as he got up and headed downhill right into the action.

Y/N followed him after a last loving and fearful glance at Newt. Screams, blood and fire surrounded them now as they made their way to Harriet and Vince in search of weapons to fight with. Vince handed the gladers guns.

-Can you use these ?

They nodded and prepared to fire.

-Cover me, shouted the leader of the Right Arm.

So it was with fear but adrenaline that they stood around the van containing the machine gun and began firing at the WICKED soldiers. The rage of life they felt left little room for guilt, even though they would have deaths on their conscience.

-There are too many of them, Minho despaired.

They were running out of munitions and the asian's realization gave them an extra wave of fear... This was the end, WICKED was winning. As Y/N searched her pockets for ammunition she heard Vince's deep voice ringing in her ears just before she felt a wave of electricity run through every inch of her body and then she fell into unconsciousness.

When they woke up, the gladers were in a line, among the other WICKED subjects, kneeling and weakened. Y/N stood between Minho and Newt and looked at Rat Man with all the rage she felt. She had to look away, however, when a soldier came up behind her, scanned her neck and announced.

-A3.

This is what she was reduced to. A fucking number, like an animal. They were dehumanizing them as if they were nothing more than livestock. WICKED was intentionally forgetting that they were just teenagers. This realization made her clench her fists and teeth. Her impulsiveness was getting the better of her.

-Where's Thomas, she heard Rat Man ask.

And before she could stop herself, her rebellious and impulsive side surfaced.

-Up your ass, you rat-faced bastard !

A silence was created on the battlefield. Newt looked at her reproachfully as Janson turned red with anger. He approached the girl and before the gladers could react Rat Man took her by the arm and threw her into the middle of them all. And as she tried to get up from the ground, she was kicked in the abdomen, making her regret her stupid behavior.

-You want to play it smart ? Well you're going to regret it kid, he then turned to one of his colleagues. Did you say that we had almost all of them ?

Y/N saw the guard nod as she began to get really scared.

-Good, Janson seemed to be pleased as he loaded his gun and pointed it at her. I guess no one will mind if I kill one of them then ?

The salt-and-pepper haired man was preparing to shoot under the incessant shouting of the gladers and the threats of Newt when Thomas appeared.

-I'm here.

Janson then diverted his attention from the young girl who went to snuggle in the arms of her boyfriend. The latter held her against him as if his life depended on it.

-Everything's fine, he whispered in her ear, trying to reassure himself. I am there.

During this time the brown one also took a blow of the part of the Rat Man then was placed at the sides of Minho who looked at him dazed.

-Why didn't you run ?

-I'm tired of running.

His statement seemed to cast a sort of veil of hope over the blockards and Y/N lifted herself a little from the blond to give Thomas a discreet smile. He was right, they should stop running. However, her smile quickly faded when another berg appeared and landed a few meters away from their position, bringing a sense of fear back to the group.

Ava Paige. The woman with platinum blonde hair who was supposedly dead and was the head of the WICKED. Their worst enemy was standing in front of them, staring at them like the test subjects they were in her eyes. She ordered Janson to start the boarding and that's how the different teenagers were dragged towards the berg. So far, none of the gladers had been taken. However, Ava stopped in front of them and made Thomas stand up.

-Good evening, Thomas.

Was she making fun of him? She put him in a damn Maze, sent him to a city full of cranks and hunted him down to say a simple good evening ? The only thing the brunette could think at that moment was "go to hell" but he preferred to keep quiet and look at her, a defiant glare stuck to his face. However all trace of insolence flew away when Teresa appeared at the side of this woman.

-I don't believe it, said Minho, standing up.

-Teresa, Frypan murmured in astonishment.

-But what's going on here ? asked Newt lost.

-She's with the enemy, Thomas suddenly said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Y/N couldn't stop a nervous laugh from coming out of her lips as a huge hatred took place in her heart.

-I knew it, she whispered, realizing she was right all along. You are a fucking traitor !

The blond realizing that his girlfriend was once again going to put herself in a sensitive situation placed his arm in front of her as if to protect her and prevent anyone from hurting her. He would not allow it.

That was the moment Janson chose to intervene.

-Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Once we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time.

-I'm sorry, she began as the gladers looked at her accusingly. I had no choice. This is the only way. We have to find a cure.

Thomas lowered his head feeling his heart tear as the girl he was in love with drove the stake of betrayal deeper into his heart. He wanted so badly for this to be just a nightmare yet he knew it was real.

-And a cure for your bullshit ? Minho interjected with his usual sarcasm. Didn't you find it ?

-Drop it, Minho, added Y/N. All it would take is a little loyalty and humanity.

The dark-haired girl looked down but ignored them royally as Ava confirmed her words. The latter was trying to convince them that she was not a monster and that she just needed more time. But Marie, the camp doctor, spoke up.

-And more blood !

-Hello, Marie, said the blonde woman as the female doctor approached. I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.

-I'm sorry about a lot of things too, Marie cut her off. But not this. At least my conscience is clear.

Unlike Teresa, Y/N thought furtively before concentrating on Ava's answer.

-So is mine.

A shot rang out, cutting short the exchange between the two women. And the said Mary collapsed on the ground under the desperate cries of Vince and the murderous glance of Janson. While looking at this scene with teary eyes, Thomas understood what he had to do. At this thought his breathing became more panting and the tension in his muscles more oppressive. He waited for the WICKED to begin boarding them before pulling out a bomb and threatening to detonate it.

-Everyone stand back, Janson ordered his soldiers, his stress mounting. Hold your fire !

-Let them all go, Thomas shouted as Rat Man tried to talk him down.

Janson, Ava, and even Teresa all began to talk to him to make him listen to reason, not realizing that they were only reassuring him of his decision. Moreover, the gladers, at first overwhelmed by the events, began to understand why their friend was doing this and it was resigned that Minho came to Thomas' side and nodded to show his support. He was followed closely by Frypan, Newt and Y/N who hold hands with the blond man.

-We're with you, Thomas, said the latter, taking his girlfriend in his arms for a last embrace.

-Do it Thomas, added the asian to cover the protests of Teresa and Ava.

-We are ready, made Fry by holding the shoulder of the brown.

-It's the end, finished Y/N by pressing a little more strongly the blond in her arms.

After a last glance towards his friends Thomas turned to Teresa.

-We're not going back there, he declared while shaking before preparing to release the bomb. It's the only way.

Suddenly, as Ava Paige's scream resonated as if to prevent the explosion, a horn went off, stopping Thomas in his tracks. It was Jorge who drove like a madman into one of the WICKED helicopters, leaving the members of the Right Arm the opportunity to disperse and defend themselves.

-Are you all right ? asked Newt, concerned about the well-being of his beloved.

For all answer Y/N nodded her head before joining the others and suddenly getting down on the ground while Thomas had just thrown the bomb on the members of the inter-governmental organization. As they got up, they went in search of weapons to fight with. Brenda was defending them from the top of the cliffs like a sniper. She had managed to hit Janson in the shoulder, which made Y/N smile and find a gun. Hope made her heart beat again and gave her enough adrenaline to fight.

As for Vince, he went back to his machine gun, shooting at the WICKED soldiers and at the same time quenching his thirst for revenge for Marie's death. It was total chaos. The gladers were running for cover, covered by Minho and Y/N who were the only two of the group to have acquired weapons. They found some debris to hide behind about hundred meters away.

-Keep going, the asian shouted. We got you !

-Be careful ! Newt asked worriedly as they ran to their hiding place.

-Don't worry about us, the girl tried to reassure him.

Thomas suddenly arrived running, he passed behind his two friends to join the others. It was the last one they could retreat. Y/N then began to run towards her friends when she realized that the asian did not follow her.

-Minho, what are you doing ? she shouted to him already six meters away from him.

-Go ahead, go ahead, he replied, shooting at a soldier. I'll catch up with you !

She continued her race trusting her best friend when she saw him taking an electrifying ball of the WICKED and falling on the ground shaking of spasms. She shouted his name and asked him to get up and join her. She heard her friends in the distance doing the same but the former keeper of the runners was close to sink in the unconsciousness. She then turned her gaze to her friends in the distance and then to Mihno who was beginning to be carried away. One last time she looked into Newt's chocolate eyes and mouthed a final "I love you" as he understood her intention and shouted at her to stop. It was too late, she had made her decision, we don't abandon our friends. She then faced the asian and started to run towards him as fast as she could. She could feel her heart racing as she shot at the two guards holding her friend. Once she reached him she let out a sigh of relief and with great effort and a few more drops of sweat she managed to lift Minho off the ground. She then looked up at her friends' hiding place and began to sprint. However, as she saw the hopeful looks on her friends' and Newt's faces, she felt an excruciating sting in her back and electricity paralyzing her. She then fell on the sand and dust while letting out a cry of agony which was replaced very quickly by the cry of despair of her favorite blond boy.

The latter seeing the girl he loved being taken away by the WICKED wanted to intervene but his friends understanding that it was over held him back with tears in their eyes and their hearts in pieces. And it was under their desperate looks that the berg enclosing their friends started to fly away while Janson threw them a last triumphant smile while holding firmly the unconscious body of Y/N in his arms.

-Bastards, Newt shouted, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You bastards ! Bring them back ! Come back ! Give her back to me !

Thomas went over to him to put his hand on his shoulder, but as surprising as it may seem, the blond threw himself into his arms and cried against his shoulder. Usually the second in command kept everything to himself and did not share his sorrows. He never expressed his sadness, but this was too much for him to bear. When Y/N had arrived in the block just after his suicide attempt, she had been a breath of fresh air for him. She had been his little dose of hope and he needed her. He couldn't lose her.

-Tommy, he said in a firm voice, looking into Thomas' wet eyes. Promise me we'll get them back.

-I promise, Newt.

Masterlist

[hsbeloved]

night drive

hihi! just a short little (y/n) friends to lovers thing (minus the lovers part. sorry, no smut this time) kinda hate how this one ended, felt a little rushed to me but in my defense i wrote this at like 3am in about 40 minutes. messages with input are always appreciated! <3

warnings: none

word count: 3.1k 

I had been mindlessly bingeing some new netflix show when I'd felt my phone vibrate on the bed next to me. I was almost tempted to ignore it. Scared it was my best friend with yet another invite to some trashy party her new boyfriend was throwing at his frat house. I had never once accepted and yet that never stopped her from trying to get me to join her. I knew deep down she was just trying to be a good friend. I almost felt bad. Almost.

When it turned from incessant thumping to a high pitched tone indicating an incoming call, I decided it had to be important. No one ever called me unless it was. When I picked it up from beside me, I squinted at the screen that was slightly blurry from my eyes not yet adjusting to the brightness. Instead of trying to read the name, I blindly swiped to answer.

"Hello?" I croaked out, my voice cracking a little from not using it for a while.

"'Hey y/n! Whas'up? Too busy sleeping to text me back, huh?"

Gasping a little, I sat up a bit straighter. Goosebumps immediately etched themselves upon every inch of my skin. It was Harry.

"Uh hey Har. No, not sleeping. Just busy doing uh-" I searched my eyes around my room looking for an excuse that wasn't me being a loser and watching tv by myself on a friday night. "Cleaning. I was cleaning. Everything okay?" I rushed out.

He was silent for a moment before I heard a slight chuckle. "You? Cleaning? Thas' funny, love. Can't remember ever seein' yah tidy up anything before"

I couldn't help but giggle a little at this. He was right, of course. I hated cleaning and he knew that. "Hey! I clean. I'm a very cleanly person, okay?"

"Alrigh' alrigh', calm down. Was jus' teasin'. Was actually callin' to see if yah wanted to come for a drive with me. Need to clear my head a bit and could use some company" I couldn't be sure, but he sounded dejected.

"Har. Is everything okay?" I was barely talking above a whisper. Nervous that if I spoke too loud he wouldn't express how he was feeling to me.

I heard a sigh and then some rustling in the background, like he was moving around on his bed. "Jus' had a pretty rough argument with Rachel. Kinda need a friend to hang with to get my mind off of it. Plus I jus' miss yah. Haven't seen yah in forever, bubs."

I couldn't help but perk up at the nickname despite the sourness I felt at him mentioning his girlfriend. It wasn't like I wasn't happy for him. Rachel seemed like she was a nice enough girl. She just so happened to be dating the person i've been secretly and ridiculously in love with since I met him a year ago at university.

"Sorry to hear that, Harry. Do you wanna talk about it?" I wanted to be a good friend and offer my advice if I could, but mostly I just wanted to hear him talk more. His voice was a sickly sweet song that my heart almost always craved to hear.

"Nah, really jus' wanna pick yah up and head somewhere for a while. That okay?" I could hear him already getting up from wherever he was sitting and gathering his things. The tell tale clink of his car keys a reminder that I needed to get dressed and at least a little presentable.

Picking at a loose string on the hem of my worn out t-shirt, I sighed and replied a little slowly. "Yeah, 'course it's okay. Just text me when you're here. Drive safe, alright?"

He let out a soft chuckle before breathing out a short reply of "Always do." and hanging up.

When all I heard was silence on the other end, I threw my phone to the side and got up to head to the mirror hanging across from my bed. Examining myself, I figured I didn't want to try too hard or he'd know something was up. I threw a black knit sweater over my shoulders and replaced my sweatpants with a pair of leggings, tugging my hair back into a loose ponytail on top of my head.

After another fifteen minutes filled with me brushing my teeth and washing my face, I felt my phone go off in the pocket of my sweater. I pulled it out and saw that Harry had messaged to let me know he was in my driveway. Grabbing my purse, I headed toward the door to give myself one last look in the mirror before opening it and locking it behind me.

When I turned to see him sitting in his idling car, my breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a literal beat. Like, an actual hitch in my heartbeat. The light from his phone flashing across his dazzling eyes in the darkness of his car made him look angelic. There was a small crease in his brow and his lips were slightly downturned, and yet he was still magnetic. It never got easier to look at him.

As soon as I reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, I heard a click and the sounds of laughter from inside. My hand reacted before my mind could catch on and when I attempted to pull the door open, I was met with resistance. Of course he had locked it.

"C'mon Har, not funny. Open up." My plea went unanswered, though. His smirk the only acknowledgment I received.

I put on my best pleading face, pouting with my bottom lip jutted out above my top and my eyebrows scrunching together in playful sadness.

"Pleeeeeease open the door, Harry?" I clasped my hands together in front of me and gave him the biggest doe eyes I could muster before I heard another click.

Taking the opportunity before he could change his mind, I yanked the door open a little too harshly and threw myself into the seat with a grin.

"Knew you couldn't say no to me. You never can." I muttered before placing my bag by my feet and strapping myself into the car.

When I looked up at him across from me, he was staring at me with a strange look I'd never seen on his face before. It looked like he was deep in thought but also like he was in pain. I wasn't sure what to say so I just slapped my hands down against my thighs and let out a deep sigh before speaking.

"So! Where to, Mr. Styles?"

Still looking at me, he shook his head in confusion as if he forgot where he was. Once he collected himself, he plugged his phone into the aux, handing it to me with a nod to pick some music.

"Figured we could jus' see where the night takes us, love. Hang out for a while. That still alrigh' with yah?"

He seemed almost nervous when he spoke, which was an unrecognizable emotion on him. He was always so sure of himself. He carried himself with confidence and a bit of cockiness to be honest, but not in an overwhelming way. He was just aware of himself and his affect on others. All I could do was stare at the side of his face that now was looking out at the road ahead of him. His jaw was clenched and his grip on the wheel looked like it could break it if he really tried hard enough.

"Of course that's okay, Har. Why wouldn't it be?" I questioned.

He exhaled a breath before letting one of his arms bend and fold onto the center console to rest between us, his hand dangling slightly off of the edge.

He turned to look at me and then quickly whipped his eyes back toward the road before muttering out "Jus' didn't wanna waste your friday night s'all. Know you could be doing somethin' a little bit more fun, ya know?"

I was quick to shake my head and grab at his free hand, bringing it onto my lap to hold in-between my own.

"Where is this coming from, Harry? You know I don't care what we do. I just like spending time with you."

He looked down at where our hands were joined, my fingers absentmindedly twisting one of his rings while I stared at the perplexed expression gracing his beautiful features. He's never acted like this with me. Every time we hang out, it's filled with his newly acquired joke of the day and an eventual headache from how hard he makes me laugh. Tonight though, he was so closed off. It was starting to worry me.

Just as he's about to speak, he suddenly freezes and breathes out a laugh so small I think I imagine it.

He brings his hand that's still connected with mine up toward the screen on his dash and points to the song that had just started playing, before letting it fall back into my lap.

"This song was playin' the first time we met, ya know." He looks over at me expectantly. I look at the screen and then back at his face, a smile gracing my lips.

"There's no way you remember the song that was playing, Harry." I reply dryly with a laugh of my own before continuing my assault on his ring. I loved playing with them, and he knew it. He would act like it bothered him. Tried to feign offense at how cold my hands always were against his intensely feverish skin, but we both knew he enjoyed it as much as I did.

He scoffed. A look of annoyance dancing around his emerald eyes as he took his hand from mine to point a finger at me.

"I absolutely do! Got a mind like a whip, I'll 'ave you know." He swiveled his head back toward the windshield, putting his hand back on the wheel. "I remember everything when it comes to you, love" He uttered in a hushed tone. Like he was afraid of even saying the words.

My mouth hung open the smallest bit before I could stop it. Sure, Harry was affectionate with me. A little more than was friendly sometimes, but never so outwardly sweet with his words. He was more of a cuddle and hug type of friend. Even an occasional kiss on the forehead if I was lucky and he was tired enough.

I reached out to him and grabbed his hand once again, rubbing my thumb in circles against his heated skin.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. Wanted nothing more than to grab his face and kiss him, let him know just how much I adored him. But I was scared and he was in a relationship. So all I could muster the confidence to say was "That's really sweet, Har."

He sighed and gave me a lopsided grin while muttering out "Yup, tha's me. Sweet ol' Harry."

I could tell he wanted to say something else by the tone of his voice, but didn't want to push it. Instead deciding to point out all of the constellations I knew by heart out of the window.

Harry did his best to follow along and listen intently, but with his eyes needing to focus on driving, he was more so just nodding along to make me happy.

In the middle of my explanation about how older stars start to turn red as they run out of hydrogen to burn, I notice the car slowing down to a stop against a patch of grass on the side of the road.

"Wait why are we stopping? Everything okay?" I question with concern laced in my voice.

Harry puts the car in park, unbuckles himself, and immediately turns his whole body to face mine. His hand is still enclosed in my own, so he takes it back and places it against his thigh before running his other through his already messy hair.

Sighing deeply, he lifts his eyes to mine and opens his mouth to speak but doesn't actually say anything.

"Harry, you're kind of scaring me. Please tell me what's wrong. You can talk to me" I start to reach my hand out to stroke his arm but he holds up his own to stop me and I physically feel my heart stop for a second.

"Did I- did I do something?" My voice comes out so small I don't even recognize it.

He scoffs for the second time since I got into the car. The hand on his thigh joining his other in the mess of curls on top of his head, pulling at the roots before dropping them into his lap and staring at me once more.

"'Course not, bubs. I did."

"I don't. I don't understand. I-" Is all I'm able to get past my lips before he's rushing out words so fast it's hard to keep up.

"I broke up with Rachel. Well, she technically broke up with me. Said somethin' 'bout how she can't be with someone who isn't able to commit." He was getting flushed from how upset he was. I could see it even in the dark. A splotchy patch of red was making it's way up his neck and I wanted to reach out and hug him. Comfort him. But he wasn't finished, so I sat on my hands to control myself and let him talk.

"Thought it was a load'a bullshit at first but she said somethin' that really stuck with me, and I can't seem to stop thinkin' 'bout it." He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Need yah to help me figure somethin' out. Promise I won't be mad if yah don't wanna. Just need'a try. Jus' once." He was whispering. His usual boisterous and lively energy was nowhere to be found. He was looking at me with such a serious expression on his face that it made me shrink back a little and avert my gaze to the side of the dashboard to compose myself.

When I chanced a glance back toward him, his face was so close it made me gasp and jump back.

"What are-"

I couldn't even finish my sentence. He was inching closer and closer, my breathing getting more shallow with every second that ticked by.

"Tell me to stop. Push me away if yah don' wanna do this. I won't be mad, bubs. I promise." His angelic voice was so quiet I had to will my heart to stop beating so violently against my ears so that I could hear him properly.

I exhaled the breath I was holding, but couldn't find it in myself to move. I'd thought of this moment every single day for a year, and it was finally happening. I wanted this more than anything, the anticipation was making my chest ache in such an intense way that all I could think to say back was "No."

Harry stilled immediately. His face scrunched up in hurt as he started to move himself back into his seat. Before he could get too far, I yanked a hand out from under myself and used it to pull him back toward me by his chin.

When I saw the confused expression on his face, I realized what I had said and tried to explain the best that I could with my brain suddenly a pile of goo from inhaling his musky scent just seconds before.

"I meant. No. I don't want you to stop. I just-" I sighed heavily and shook my head while closing my eyes briefly to control my fluttering eyelashes.

Opening them, I was met with his own that were now wet with substantial emotion, making the green of them so vibrant it made me lose my breath for a second.

"I want-" another sigh. "I want you to kiss me."

He audibly gulped, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he stared at my lips. "Yah sure?" he probed with a glance up at my eyes.

"I'm sure, Harry." My head was now the one leaning toward his own. The hand that was placed on his chin moving to the back of his head to pull him in closer. My eyes closing once again as I felt his top lip brush against my bottom one so softly it almost felt like I imagined it.

Just the smallest touch from him and I was already buzzing. My stomach tied up in knots and the butterflies in my ribcage fluttering like crazy. My blood was boiling. I felt cold and way too hot all at once.

I heard his light gasp before I felt his plush lips press against mine with a little more pressure and confidence. He slowly slid his hand onto my cheek, taking his time to explore this new sensation. I kiss him back lazily, reveling in the softness of him. We exchange a few more pert kisses before it suddenly becomes more heated, the atmosphere shifting from tentative and cautious to more concrete in its intensity.

He grips onto my shoulder for purchase, bringing me even closer to his chest. He kisses me harshly, each kiss he breaks is released with a soft, smacking sound that grows sharper each time. I move my hands to fist the soft material of his shirt behind his back, my brow creasing in pleasure while I sigh into his mouth. He swallows every noise I make, groaning out a few of his own before a breathy whimper escapes my mouth as his tongue slides along my bottom lip.

When he hears the noise this time, he breaks apart from me and moves his forehead onto my shoulder, our collective breathing heavy and loud in the quiet of the car. My lips tingle, already missing the fullness of his against them.

"Wasn't expectin' tha'." He pants into the skin of my neck, gently holding onto my arms. "Guess Rachel was right after all."

"About what?" I ask, trying and failing to catch my breath.

He lifts his head slightly away from my body to look into my eyes as he softly says "I really am in love with my best friend."

At his confession, my breath gets caught in my throat and my lungs shrivel up. My eyes suddenly get weepy and I'm unable to stop the stray tear that falls onto my cheek. Harry takes his thumb and swipes it away before asking me what's wrong with gentle eyes.

"Just never thought you'd feel the same way." I whisper.

He gasps, smiling so bright and large that his dimples become a deep pool inside of his cheeks. "C'mere" he wheezes out before crashing his lips back against mine. His teeth clash against mine a bit from how much he's grinning, but it doesn't matter. It's still without a doubt the best kiss I've ever had.