#I spend so much of my day focusing on minute details & shading and I just want to scribble the fanarts fast fast fast lol

[myokk]

“yellow looks good on you”

I decided to draw a scene from a oneshot with poppy/imelda I wrote last week💛🫶 I love them soooooo much & honestly have barely seen anything with them on here 🤔 I need to change that!! I honestly love the Hogwarts legacy girls so much & I know I would be friends with all of them 😭

I get a bit too carried away with drawing as fast as possible so it was rushed. Maybe someday I’ll have the time to draw something that isn’t a sketch for you guys!! 🥰😘

Under the cut if you’re interested: the scribble sketch before I went in with the black pencil 💗

[shqvambacu]

The Edge Of A Beg | 2 | Jamie Cook

warning: some cursing and that’s it

──────────────────

I hate how selfish Connor is. I hate that he is always late, and how it always discredits our presentations. I hate that he's not here today and every other day, and how upset it makes me.

Today, the meeting is terrible. I suggest some ideas about the promotion of albums soon to be released, and I earn a few weak smiles. Not only can I lose my job, but the artists we work for could turn against us too. Where have all my bright ideas gone?

It's been a few days since the incident with Jamie, and I haven't seen him since. Usually, I notice him in the hallways, but nothing. Not even a sticky note on my computer screen saying how ugly my dress looks. I can't even slap him for the ugly bruise on my hip. It looked alright on Tuesday night, but there's a gross shade of blue forming on my flesh.

But I'm not focused on him—he's a side detail. I need to call Connor again and beg him to come with me one last time. He will get upset, obviously, but he was the one telling me this crazy idea could work. He won't leave me on my own, not after every effort we've made the past few months. I'll just tell him—

"Take this upstairs."

I stop my temporary mental breakdown to glance up at John, the man harassing me with administrative papers from nine to five. He is standing there with the stack of papers outstretched in my direction, a look that says don't mess with me in his eyes. He still hasn't understood that I'm not his intern anymore and that my job is more valuable than his. I could easily get him fired if I wanted to.

Plus, there are a few colleagues near enough who could do the job, so why is he targeting me again? He could ask anyone in the office.

"What a shame, I was about to leave," I instantly lie, flashing my best fake-disappointed pout.

His voice is throaty and cold. "C'mon, don't tell me you have someone waiting for you out there. They need to sign the papers right now. It's for the committee."

I sigh, ignoring the undertone of his words. Since the announcement of Connor's departure two days ago—some kind of professional trip to Berlin he has been vague about—everyone has seen how it affects me. I spend more time wandering through the cubicles with a vanilla coffee in hand than calling radio stations to promote Bad Girl, the band we've both been assigned to deal with. We haven't even met them anyway, and Connor doesn't seem to realise they could become a big deal. I can easily picture them singing in front of thousands of people. Planning a fictional future is easier than contemplating the present.

It's been ten months since I begged Dad to take me in. I'm not dumb; advertising has always been my thing and I knew I'd do just great, despite what some might say. Presenting projects before crowded rooms don't worry me that much. The only thing that truly worries me is people saying I'm not worth this job. That I don't need it.

Now, if I can't go to the New Year's dinner and all these sacrifices become useless, I'll lose it. I'll probably lose Connor too, but some part of my mind tells me it's fine. After all, working here have some advantages. I just have to find them.

It's fine. Everything is just fine.

That's what I keep repeating to myself as I eventually gather the files and start towards the door, my feet dragging heavily. Somehow, for the stupidest reasons, I'm always checking that a car isn't going to crash into me. I do it even inside the office; that's how much it startled me.

I walk over to the lift just as it is opening to let a handful of people out. I stand inside for less than a minute and the metallic doors slide open again, revealing a long hallway with see-through cubicles, clearly classier than the ones downstairs. Classier than mine for sure. I know nobody could compete with the dead plant and the one picture of my dog on the side of the old computer's screen.

I make my way towards the office at the end of the hallway, the one with a silver inscription on the door. Most of the time, my boss is on the phone. I learnt to do what I need to do and not care about him anymore.

So, I practically collapse into the door as I push it with my shoulder, only realising it was already half-opened when my body stumble awkwardly inside, nearly crashing into somebody's back.

"Shit, sorry," I mutter, getting a hold of myself as the victim swivels around, his blue eyes meeting mine. Falling over him would be a nightmare.

"Already pissed? It's not even ten."

Ignoring him and my boss' look, I set the papers on the desk and step aside.

I should have waited a few more minutes before going. Why didn't I fucking wait?

Jamie sends me a few glances but I focus my attention on the strips on my boss' suit. Another body is standing next to him, but I don't have the guts to look up.

I didn't know he was here today.

"...and promoting them would benefit us more. That's what I care about. Not how it is done. Alright?"

Mumbles of "yeah, yeah" echo in the room, and the grey-haired man repeats a small, "Alright." My eyes snap back up when he calls for my name, as if remembering why I'm here in the first place.

"What's this?"

"Oh," I finally speak up, "something for the committee. I don't know."

Narrowing his eyes at me for a second, my boss finally gives up. "Tour the office yourself. Get it signed by everyone and come back when you're done."

Okay. I'm still an intern to him too.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I'm busy with these—"

"Thank you," he emphasises without even sparing me a glance, shutting me up for good.

I swallow an insult and turn towards the two men waiting there. Alexander shoots me a friendly smile as Jamie wears his usual 'I'm going to ruin your life for fun' look. I want to punch him where it hurts until he stops.

The others in their small group are nice. Polite, even. They always say hello and sometimes one of them stays with me while they wait for the others upstairs. Alexander even paid for my lunch once. Matthew and Nicholas are usually lazing around on their desk chair, their suit jacket open or lacking, cracking a joke when they notice me in their surroundings. We're not close enough to be considered mates, but chatting with them is always nice.

All of that is fun until it's about him.

The teasing was fun at first. I met Jamie when I started working here and he was kind. Funny sometimes. It wasn't rare to find ourselves in the break room at the same time. It was almost as if he did it on purpose, just to get a coffee first and annoy me. He joked about himself and I caught myself laughing with him a few times. I think he got me under some kind of fucked up spell.

Everyone loves him here. I'm not so sure about me. They used to be a little warmer when they ignored my father is their boss.

Back when Connor and I presented our first social media idea in the conference room, I was properly introduced to everyone. It was simple: boosting the band's media until their new album, making them famous on every platform and organising live videos. We'd prepared a few slides to explain the process, all clean and professional. That day, the room was full and completely silent. I saw the welcoming smiles as soon as I stopped talking, cheeks flushing with my heart leaping in my chest. It wasn't stress, perhaps just pride.

I got embarrassed when I felt Connor's protective hand lowering on my back, and that was when I met Jamie's gaze for the first time. He was still a stranger at that time, but I'd seen in his eyes that he was different.

Not like in fairy tales.

More like 'pissing-off-everyone' kind of different, and I was his next target.

I still offered him a small and awkward smile, letting out a long sigh of relief when the door separated me from these people again.

Everything is different now. Some teams have moved upstairs, including the four guys, and they all quite physically changed. I guess I changed too.

Jamie's the one who told the two floors about my supposed kiss with my colleague Evan. Just 'for the joke'. It was so dumb that I called the band he was dealing with during lunch and cancelled all their interviews for the following weeks. One thing I'd learnt pretty early was revenge.

That day, I almost got fired. The next day, it was somehow settled, and I just had some kind of professional warning from my boss who couldn't care less.

Jamie had a look that could have killed me the next few days, and it was reciprocated. Two could play a game, and I wouldn't be the one to let a man get in my way.

Now trudging to the desks on the right, I glance at the dark sky through the window. It's raining again, and I can barely make out the soft golden light of the street lights as the darkness come earlier and earlier each day.

The endless sounds of the phones ringing are stressful.

"You've got summat in your hair."

My head snaps towards the intruder's voice with a stupid accent. I groan internally when I find Jamie coming over beside me, my hand going up in my hair only to find it smooth like usual.

"My bad, it's just a big knot," he adds in a whisper, following me to the first desk.

I roll my eyes, ignoring the sudden urge to throw something, anything at his face. He could at least apologise for what happened in the parking lot. Of course, he won't.

"You cut yours," I simply say, opening the first door of the private offices.

"You like it?"

"No."

I do. To be honest, I liked his old hair too. They were long, almost wavy. Now they are cut short and he shaved, and he looks like a model for some shampoo ad. He doesn't really need my compliments though, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Shame," I hear him mutter.

"Hi," I smile over at the brunette looking up from her computer screen, "can you sign this?"

It's so silent in here. I can't tell if it's relaxing or creepy.

"Hi," she beams, and her smile widens when she notices Jamie, absently twisting her pen between her fingers. "Hi, Jamie. You alright?"

"Yeah. I am," the idiot smiles back, taking in the lack of decoration.

"Me too. All good."

God. "Okay, everyone's good. Can you just sign?" I press, standing closer.

Almost snatching the sheet from her when she's done scribbling what looks like her name above a wave, I thank her quickly and ask the same to the man sitting next to her. I've never seen him before, and he looks old for the team. He doesn't look like he purposefully listens to the music they have to promote.

Luckily he executes without a question. When I turn around, I stumble into Jamie's chest again.

"Can you not stand there?" I hiss, my grip on the papers tightening. They could melt under my fingers, and I wouldn't even notice.

With a closed-lips smile, he shifts to the side and I get out of the space. I do this ridiculous tour of the offices for about an hour, taking my time. When I get to Matthew and the others—the most animated room—I feel a bit lighter.

If someone told me they were only here to play games on their computers or criticise the music, I would totally believe them.

And if I was that mean woman Jamie thinks I am, I would have told someone about it. It's proof that I'm a good human being.

They all look up at me, even Jamie who is back behind his desk. "I need autographs," I joke, wiggling the papers in my hand and handing them to Nicholas first.

The curly-haired man huffs a laugh and grabs a pen on Matthew's desk. "Need a selfie too?"

I shake my head, letting out a small laugh. "I'm fine, thanks."

Nicholas slides the paper over to Matthew and settles further in his rolling chair, looking up at me while his friend reads it.

"How's your band doing?"

"Bad Girls?" I ask, and he nods. "Well, they're trying hard in the punk side of things. But they have a great media presence, so I think we'll manage to get them a wider audience soon. I just wish they would call me themselves. It's a bit lonely from my side, y'know."

Connor's help would be much appreciated.

"No Pity is the best band we've promoted, right Al?" Nicholas' eyes shift to his other mate, typing on his keyboard.

When he hears his surname, Alexander looks up at us, pushing away a strand of hair covering his eyes. "They're amazing. Nice sound and all. It's a shame they've considered taking a break."

"How many followers?" I smile back at him, ready for the challenge. He knows I always ask that, since my bands always have more followers than his.

"What does it matter?" Jamie cuts in, and I want to throw him out of the window the second he speaks. "It's not reality, is it?"

Alexander leans forward to grab the sheet of paper and signs up. An opportunity to stay out of the drama, maybe.

"But you can't deny it helps the bands develop their audience," I reply instantly, annoyed that he interrupted my weekly banter with the people I enjoy the most in here.

"At what cost? We don't need the pointless scandals or whatever happens."

Sensing the debate coming, the three other men resume their work and chat between themselves. Without realising, I've edged closer to Jamie's workspace. His cup of tea is half empty, and there's still his Black Sabbath notebook on the left side of his keyboard. I'm sure it's covered in dust.

"It doesn't happen when you do your job correctly."

Someone whistles behind me. Our gazes lock across the desk, and his expression remains the same. When I think it hardens, I notice his eyes softening almost curiously.

And finally noticing he has taken the sheet and is not doing anything, my eyes narrow at him.

"Can you sign?" I ask, talking to him like a moron.

His luminous eyes widen just a smidge and he lets out a scoff, visibly amused. "Can I?"

"Oh fucking hell, just do it," I sigh in despair, taking another step closer.

Jamie reaches for his pen, looking up at me like he's only waiting for one thing.

"I wanna dropkick you in shark-infested waters and laugh at your face."

I didn't mean to say it out loud, but then I hear Nicholas cackling behind me, followed by Matthew. Alexander's laughter is the loudest.

I bite my tongue to prevent myself from insulting him further. After all, I have no right to disrespect him. I just need to ignore him like all the other flirty singers who try to get something out of me.

He will get bored of it eventually.

With a glance behind me—probably to his friends—Jamie laughs to himself and scribbles down his name and signature. He doesn't even bother to read the whole thing.

He has other things to do, like taking five breaks a day and plaguing the whole building with his presence. Idiot.

After he's done I take the papers again and check that nothing is missing.

Nicholas Edward O'Malley, Jamie Robe- Robert?

I hold back a laugh, and I end up snorting a not so lady-like laugh. I need to write that down somewhere.

Jamie cocks an eyebrow, confused by my sudden amusement. I don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him again. I've done the mistakes too many times already.

"All good for me, thanks," I smile up at the lads, making my way outside the room and its weird smell, a mix of ink and beer. I'm almost certain they're hiding alcohol in their drawers. It's even surprising they're always assigned the most famous bands.

My amusement doesn't last long though. As soon as I'm back behind my computer screen, my eyes are staring into the void, humming some song stuck in my mind and rocking my rolling chair from side to side.

I see Tommy at his desk, his eyes set on Keira. I know I have to set them up.

Peeling a pink post-it note from the stack—pink is the colour for my romantic projects—I scribble their names down and think about what could bring them together.

When I'm done brainstorming for the first time today, the big event comes back to my mind.

My Dad used to say I was destined for something bigger than an office job, but I still want to prove to him that I'm working here because I can, and I deserve it. I actually like this job and I can picture myself managing a team very well. Last but not least, I could fire Jamie myself. Look deep into his pretty blue eyes and say 'it's over'.

I truly need to find someone who's willing to go and will accept me as their date. I can only think of a few men who don't scare me that much, and who won't get on my nerves.

At 4:58 on Friday, I make my decision.

[nzlog]

August 2nd // Southern Hemisphere Longzo Day

CK asked me what my plans for the day were and I gave a very abridged answer because we only had a little bit of free zoom minutes left, and I forgot maybe every detail about our day’s plan anyway. So! Here were / are my plans for the day:

We intended on getting up at 6:45am to watch the sunrise for 7:15am over the bay our van is parked beside, at Island View reserve in Whangamata. But we woke to the noise of very heavy rain and wind gusts that shook the van we live in, so decided to snooze for another hour until our Palz Zoom.

Then I got to see our friendseses amazing faces on zoom which made my heart very happy. This is largely the only birthday plan I had that I followed through with approximately on time and I’m super pleased about it.


For the day I had planned on either: going kayaking to Whenuakura (the english colonialist calls it Donut Island, bc it’s a ring-shaped tip of a very extinct volcano crater) which is about 600m from the shore so a relatively handy trip for someone whose gammy* back is allergic to kayaks, or if not that then I’d do a handy lil trek through Wentworth Valley to gawp at two celebrated pretty waterfalls.

We did neither of these things because it was stormy as all heck out and multiple weather warnings were issued later in the day. One of these was for gales and the other for ‘squalls’ which me and Mark had a nice time trying to guess the definition of inside our van nest, we’re still not one hundy percent sure that we know. There was some mega heavy hale which sounded even more world-ending than the rain (squall? dat u?) and shortly after that when the rain came back with its reassuring endlessness, I drew a tarot card for the day and got The Sun. I am the sun.

Then I fell asleep in the middle of the day for three whole hours, which I’m still calling a nap. It was class.

It felt like the day itself called in sick, which was the perfect thing. I will put an expectation on myself to do something ~significant~ without being able to hear myself think about what I want so much of the time and I am grateful for an external source completely halting that automatic process. I got to talk to my great friends and have a huge snooze and it was the dream scenario.

It mildly concerns me that I’m so exhausted chronically, it feels like shades of fatigue but it’s so subtle that it’s almost sub-perceptual, it feels tricky to really notice it clearly, something you have to be not fatigued to do. I know it makes sense that being in a new place while living in a van in the wintertime and constantly moving around as well as planning, deciding, figuring and focusing are inherently tiring activities, but it feels like it’s an unusual amount of tiredness still. A tricky thing to figure out when either long-covid or depression could be triggers that I can’t determine because they’re not diagnosable as causes, and ocd brain tells me I’m over-blowing things while at the same time not letting me stop chronically worrying. Also, everyone’s very tired all the time, so it feels like it doesn’t matter. But it really does matter and I wish it could be different for all of us.

My main regret is that by falling asleep I didn’t get to spend so much time with Mark on my birthday. The first artwork I’ve put up inside this van is the card he gave me.


We drove our hermit shell house into Whangamata town centre (v small, mainly just a street of seaside town shops largely all closed up during the off-season. one of the bars we looked up was called ‘Whangamata Summer Bar’ and it is marked on the maps as ‘temporarily closed’) and we got ingredients needed for van dinner, I also cashed in the 6 blips I won on weird NZ scratchers (€3.33 under the NZD-EUR exchange rate at time of writing) at the shop I bought it in. I mentioned to the clerk that I was saving my winnings for some games of pool and she seemed authentically delighted that it was my birthday. She is the only person in this country I mentioned my birthday to, which felt exactly correct. The Leo sun shines on you, scratcher clerk.

We played one game of pool very badly in an incredibly empty sports bar then bounced back to our parking spot at Island View reserve freedom camping. Mark cooked an incredibly tasty van curry and I started typing the words you’re reading now (hi!). After that I spoke to both my parents on the phone individually for about an hour each, which was nice to try to do.

The full moon in Aquarius during the Leo sun was a primo gift from the universe. Thank you, the universe!

We slept early even though I had already slept for three fucking hours in the middle of the day, and I slept really well even though it was cold as fuck outside. The tips of our noses get really cold in this van at night, which is a cute but as yet solutionless problem.

Thursday morning: suprise! It’s still my birthday in other parts of the world! Timezones are the gift that keep on giving. What the fuck is time anyway! It keeps giving me a bad time when I try to think about it.

I woke up and felt truly relaxed for the first time in a while. I tried to spend time messaging people and then made us tea + van porridge when Mark woke. It is less stormy this morning.

When I had a moment to myself I felt the impulse to draw my birthday tarot spread, while it was still August 2nd in parts of the world that are of great significance to me. I did the five-card star spread and The Sun was the root. I am loving awareness. 


I will add more about infinitely more interesting days I’ve had here soon but not now because I want to go walk on the beach with Mark, and marvel at Whenuakura from afar. We will at some point bop out to it, a gift to our future selves.


*gammy twice auto-corrected to Tammy here; a strong NZ name

[gatheringbones]

["At the end of August in 1981, I found myself in a small town in Arkansas, where I knew no Lesbians other than my new lover, Lynn. I wanted it that way. We were living in hiding from my armed and vengeful ex-lover who had abused me for four years and had threatened both of us with deadly harm. This was five years before the publication of Kerry Lobel's ground-breaking book, Naming the Violence: Speaking Out About Lesbian Battering. I knew I had been battered, but I did not understand how deeply I had been injured.

I only knew that I seemed to have saved my life at the cost of my sanity. I jumped at loud and not-so-loud noises. A frown from a stranger could reduce me to tears. I was afraid to bathe if I was alone in the apartment. I relived every word of every fight in relentless flashbacks. I had blocked much of the unbearable pain of the previous four years out of my consciousness at the time, in order to cope with immediate danger. Now that I was "safe" it all came flooding back. To escape, I watched TV compulsively, avoiding anything violent—nature shows were my favorites—and I read science fiction. Having lost faith in women as well as men, I was a serious candidate for a species-change operation.

Luckily, at some point in that bleak winter, I read a magazine article on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in Vietnam Vets, and I recognized all my symptoms. I had a name for my suffering, and 1 knew I was not "crazy." I'd felt so much guilt and anger towards myself for not being okay, that is, my old self, since I was "free." Now I knew healing would take time and effort, and I gave myself permission to not be normal right away. Also, seeing how much my condition resembled that of war survivors helped break down some of my denial about the hell I'd been through.

Still, I had no guidance on how to recover from PTSD. I followed only the dimmest instincts. First, I began to read accounts by survivors of any serious trauma. These people became my invisible support group. I found myself drawn especially to stories of political prisoners and concentration camp survivors. Although my experience was not like theirs, these were the people I felt would understand how my will had been sapped and my strengths twisted, how the smallest acts of resistance and mere endurance had needed all my wits and courage. Bruno Bettleheim in his chapters called "Behavior in Extreme Situations" (The Informed Heart) finally answered the question I'd put to myself every 44 hour since my escape: "How could I have been so stupid?" He made me realize that under abuse, especially the combination of intermittent threats, unpredictable violence and constant psychological torture, everyone responds differently, but everyone changes fundamentally, and everyone has their breaking point.

One day as I sat reading at the kitchen table, I looked out the window at the small yard beside our duplex apartment, and I began to imagine growing a garden there in the spring. It seemed like a highly improbable idea: the area was very small, steep, bare of everything but gray shale and orange clay, and the house shaded it part of the day. But the notion of a garden took root strongly. For the first time in several years I had something pleasant to anticipate.

I wrangled my landlady's permission to put in a garden. Then I mailed off postcards for seed catalogs. I persuaded an acquaintance who owned a truck to bring me a load of cedar slabs discarded by a local sawmill, and I used these to construct two frames, about four feet by six feet, and two even smaller ones, just three feet by four feet. By this time Lynn and I had saved enough money to buy a very old VW bug, so we drove to a nearby creekbank and filled bushel baskets with rich bottom dirt, which we dumped into the frames to make raised beds about four inches deep.

To supplement the tiny growing space, Lynn scavenged large cans from the cafeteria of the hospital where she worked. I painted them a hopeful green, filled them with soil and placed them along the sidewalk below our porch. Old-timey "Corn-row Beans," originally bred to tolerate the shade of cornfields, grew up strings tied to the roof and bore prolifically.

I didn't have much money from my SSI income to spend on garden gadgets, so I made do. I wove a trellis for my peas from six-pack rings liberated from a liquor store trash bin. (I can testify that this plastic never biodegrades—the pea fence survives to this day.) I got some more bushel baskets from the local grocery, painted them with non-toxic preservative and lined them with garbage bags after snipping a few drainage holes in the bottom. Placed around a small stone patio above the garden, these became containers for large plants.

The garden rewarded me before the first mouthful of early spinach was harvested. It moved me out of the gloomy apartment and into the sunshine, watering can in hand. It motivated me to interact with people and to occasionally risk asking for help. I found out they would usually say yes. My attention was now focused on the future, not the bitter, unchangeable past. At night when the flashbacks threatened to roll, when I dreaded the dreams I might have, I put myself to sleep with 45 detailed plans of my next crop rotation. I found out I could learn a major new skill, a little at a time. I could do things right, even come up with ingenious solutions to seemingly impossible difficulties. And when I did things wrong, plants were most often forgiving. The plants themselves were a tremendous source of inspiration. Talk about survivors! They defied every book written about their needs, often thriving with too little sun, too little water, and too little soil. At the end of a year, I could easily stick my shovel in the dirt up to the hilt, where only four inches of top soil had previously existed; compost and the action of the roots had created friable loam out of shale and clay.

When I experienced failure with gardening, it was never the kind of disaster I'd grown to associate with mistakes. We didn't go hungry, because other crops outstripped our expectations. My lover didn't beat or berate me, but sympathized and helped. The garden was important to us economically, because we'd both lost almost everything we owned in our escape. Luckily, in southern Arkansas, it's possible to garden yearround. The garden gave me precious, desperately needed tastes of success. Disabled, unemployed, I still felt like an important contributor to the household. I even had food to give away sometimes, and that was a delicious feeling.

Gardening was not the only factor in my recovery, but it was an important one. I didn't grow up with abuse, but battering and similar traumas can expand minutes into hours, years into decades, until four years feel like most of a lifetime. At the end of a year and a half of gardening, I no longer felt as if I'd spent the majority of my life in a battering situation. Healing had acquired a new definition for me: I didn't insist on having the old me back; I'd mourned her long and well. I accepted the fact that some injuries are too severe to be made whole, that I might never be the same again. But I began to actually like and trust the me I am now, scars and all. As my garden taught me, I must make do with what I am. I have discovered that my flaws are not fatal and my successes are greater than I'd hoped for. So far I have not gone hungry, and I even have something to offer."]

Amy Edgington, Gaining Ground, from Garden Variety Dykes: Lesbian Traditions In Gardening, Herbooks, 1994

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

[legends-live-in-memories]

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation. 

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day. 

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No. 

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her. 

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public. 

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears? 

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off. 

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—” 

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking. 

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation. 

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him. 

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already. 

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity. 

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait. 

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl. 

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy. 

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

[tobiosmilktea]

red ink — semi eita

2.5k words | genre/s: tattoo shop!au, friends with benefits, smut | warning/s: uhh badly written nsfw | pairing: musician!semi x tattoo artist!reader

↪︎ in which famous musician, semi eita is a regular at your tattoo parlor and only gets work done from you and you only. the only catch is that fans only know that much and definitely not the fact that you and him are friends with benefits.

a/n: happy belated bday for my good friend @kitsunetea. here’s my shameless second (third?) attempt at writing smut as a late bday gift bc fuck it, amirite haha ✋🏻😔

please take it easy on this one,, this is singlehandedly one of the worst nsfw pieces i’ve ever written and i just want to apologize in advance...

semi had forgotten the tingling feeling of a tattoo gun striking away at his skin. he liked how each indent of minuscule pinpricks would leave a mark on him forever. the pain, though not enough to make him grit his teeth like the first time around when he impulsively got one on the side of his ribcage, was actually quite nice. the sensation was almost addictive, however, it wasn’t as nearly as addictive as you.

it was no shock nor surprise that each reveal of his newest tattoo was always done by you. most would understand the practicality of going to one tattoo artist consistently. if anything, most of his fans would come to believe that he simply just liked your style of tattooing and artistry, but no one would even claim to think that you two had even a pinch of something going on behind the scenes. it wasn’t like he would always stop by your shop all disguised and covered up in a black cap and a face mask just in case there were any hidden onlookers that would blatantly assume the worst.

the worst being that semi eita, the nation’s current rockstar heartthrob, was hooking up with some obscure, back alley tattoo artist.

but it was safe to say he was as addicted to you as he was addicted to the infamous pain of receiving a tattoo.

it had been ages since his last tattoo. this one especially was placed on his right forearm of a snake that spiraled up and around his wrist in red ink.

times like these—here, where your eyes are focused and locked onto his skin, making sure to capture each intricate detail, brows drawing together in concentration as you made swift and accurate runs over his skin—came to realize how much he missed the feeling of getting tattooed. but most importantly, he missed the feeling of you. the warmth of your skin, body blazing underneath him as your breath tickled at the nape of his neck.

at moments like these where he could just stare at your entirety for an hour and a half, admiring how the low lights cast shadows upon each and every curve of your body was enough to keep him occupied through the process.

you lifted your tattoo gun up as your other gloved hand wiped the area clean from any residual ink. you took one last look at your work, clean and well-done.

it was pretty good if you could say so yourself. the linework was easily one of your best, and the shading was even better. no wonder semi liked getting work done by you so much (other than the fact that you two are friends with benefits—he would joke, “i’ll give you the best night of your life and you can give me a free tattoo in return.”)

you’ve never seen that man back out of a joke that quickly in your life. regardless, you still found yourself taking him up on that offer, still paying for his tattoos as a good customer should. support local businesses as they always say.

“alright,” you say, breaking the last ten minutes of silence as you cleaned him up. “you already know the drill–gently wash it with warm soap and water at least twice a day, pat dry, and then apply ointment.”

semi looked up at you once you stood up to grab a box of saniderm from another station. he stands up, making his way to one of the large mirrors on the wall to inspect his tattoo as a smile crept onto his lips.

“how is it?”

“it’s perfect,” he says, “as always.”

“well, you shouldn’t expect anything less from me.”

“you know, you don’t have to be so professional all the time. the shop’s already closed and no one else is here but us.”

you give him a pointed look as you take out a strip of saniderm large enough to cover the circumference of his forearm. you press the thin plasticine carefully around his freshly bruised skin, peeling the protective backing off of the clear bandage. “technically, you’re still a customer. can’t really give you any more special treatment.”

“says the girl who literally gives me tattoos after the shop closes,” semi fires back.

“or you could actually come in during normal hours to get one instead of coming a minute before we close just so we can hook up,” you deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you as you turn around and made your way towards the front desk.

semi doesn’t miss a single beat in following right behind you, stopping in front of the counter as you were on the other side with the cash register.

“well if you didn’t want to fuck in the back room anymore, you could’ve just told me,” says semi as you tap away at the screen in front of you, “we can go to my apartment instead.”

“paying with card again?” you ask, completely ignoring the way your body heated up all of a sudden.

the musician in front of you nods, handing you his card quickly. you take the thin plastic out of his hand and swiped it in one quick motion, handing it to him once the machine properly reads his card. within seconds, the receipt comes out of the printer. you snatch it from the opening before shoving it into semi’s chest.

“so what do you say?” he presses, continuing to follow you around like a dog as you serpentine your way back to your station.

you let out a sigh, huffing as you start cleaning up, “about what?”

“about me taking you home. maybe spend the night?”

you swerve around to face him, a spray bottle of disinfectant in one hand and paper towels in the other. you give him a coy smile, “you’re funny,” you huff before pushing past him to spray the chair then wiping it down.

“come on, (y/n), it’s been a while since we’ve last done anything together.” semi gives you a mischievous pout, “don’t you miss me?”

his words immediately flush out your cheeks as you recalled the memory so vividly, it was like you could almost feel semi’s large hands exploring every inch of your body, memorizing every dip and curve like it was second nature. to think that all happened in the storage closet while there were people still in the shop. the simple thought of your last rendezvous with him went straight to your heat.

no wonder you haven’t done anything with semi in a while after that little stunt he pulled almost a month ago.

in order for a tattoo shop to run properly, it needed to be completely sanitary to prevent any health complications considering your job was to literally puncture tattoo ink deep into people’s skin, the risk of infection runs high in situations like these. so by law, fucking in a tattoo shop, regardless if it was in the backroom, was completely out of regulations. not to mention the scandals to potentially spread like wildfire that one of the world’s favorite musicians being at the root of all this.

those poor fangirls, you thought. drama was the last thing you wanted.

“so?” you say, trying to pull yourself together as you finish sanitizing the chair. you turn to face him, hoping that he couldn’t see the way your cheeks were burning up knowing he would only keep up the teasing. “why don’t you just fuck one of you groupies or something?”

semi scoffs, “i’d never stoop that low. besides, you’re the only one i’ve been with ever since this started happening between us.”

“good for you for not being a whore, i guess?”

you brush past him again, this time cleaning up the mess on your table. placing the spray bottle of water, rolls of paper towels, bottles of red ink, and your gloves away–you discard anything else in the bin.

“don’t be like that,” he sighs as he comes and wraps a strong arm around your waist. he rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose tickling at your skin as his mouth latches onto your neck. “i for sure missed you.”

“eita,” you say, attempting to hold back a moan as he nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. despite your efforts, quiet mewls escape your lips as his thumbs rubbed circles over your hips. “i-i still have to clean up. let me finish and then maybe we could—”

without another word, semi lets go of you and immediately starts getting to work, gathering up all the one-time-use disposable items and dumping them all in the trash. he moves quickly, rubbing down every nook and cranny of your station until it’s squeaky clean. your eyes widen at his state. it was clear he wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he can finally have you all to himself.

did he really yearn for you this much?

in just a few minutes, the job is already done. clean and spotless and ready for tomorrow’s workday as semi gives you a hopeful look. “is that all?”

you hold back a smile as you motion towards the boxes stacked up near the entrance of the backroom, “i still have to put those away and then we’re all done for the day.”

the man doesn’t even let you finish as he’s already making his way down the hallway. There was no sign of hesitancy in his actions as he grabbed two of the boxes, one stacked on top of the other as he barged into the backroom. you follow him in with only one box in your hand as you placed them in their respective places on the large industrial shelving.

you let out a grunt as you picked up the last box and inserting it into its spot. you sigh, dusting your hands as you turn around to face semi, “alright, we’re all d—”

semi doesn’t hesitate for a second to push you up against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with such desperation and fervor. he had been anticipating this for the past two hours. from the moment he walked in, to the moment you finished tattooing him; all he wanted was you.

you moan into his lips, his hand cupping your jaw while the fingers of the other were already working their magic. his touch greatly juxtaposed the zeal in the way he kissed you deeply, dipping his tongue between your soft lips as his finger, slightly calloused from years of guitar playing, gently trailed their way up your shirt.

there was a brief moment where you had to pull away from him in order to catch your breath. chest rising and falling rapidly along with the quickening beat of your heart, semi dived down to your neck, marking you with dark red bruising to anywhere he had access to. his large palms rubbed your sides before squeezing at your breasts to elicit a pleasurable groan from you. the pent-up heat within you only built the more he played with your body, fingers flicking at your nipples.

“what happened to taking me back to your place?” you asked breathlessly.

“i couldn’t wait any longer,” he mutters on your warm skin, feeling his soft lips twitch into a lopsided grin as before you knew it, he was already tugging your shirt over your head. “jump,” he says and you don’t miss a beat.

he catches you quickly, hands palming your ass as he steers you towards one of the supply tables. pushing away loose items and paperwork off to the sides.

semi’s lips meet yours again as he fiddles with the button and zipper of your jeans, diving his hand inside. he palms your sex, the pads of his fingers teasing up and down your slit as his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit. your moan muffles into his shoulder, breathe heavy and uneven.

you couldn’t seem to catch your breath as he dipped two fingers into you, pumping them in and out slowly. it was a nice change of pace from earlier, and yet you couldn’t help but let out mewls of impatience as you ground your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

semi knew what the hell he was doing.

he was a musician after all. his entire career was literally built off of his innate ability to play the guitar that each expertly placed finger and movement that accompanied it was guaranteed to send waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. he was good at what he did and he knew it. he didn’t need to see the way you were shaking under him, coating his hand with your juices, or have to hear your addicting moans to know you felt so, so good.

“eugh, eita–” your breath hitches when he curls his fingers inside you, rubbing the spongy spot deep within you in the best way possible. you curse under your breath, savoring the pleasure as you felt your release coiling in your abdomen.

“you’re close aren’t you?” semi didn’t even have to ask to know as your walls tightened around him. you nod hastily, eyes coating in lust and the desire to feel the release as you look at him.

the look that you gave him as enough to send him over the edge, his thoughts blurring once he quickens his pace, his middle and ring finger pistoning in and out of you.

you let out a cry, practically trembling under him. “oh my god, oh my god.”

with his other hand, he finds your clit again, rubbing you over the edge. it was all too much. from the mixing cacophony of the most obscene and vulgar sounds of sex emanating from the backroom to the absolute thrill of how good semi was making you feel—you were ready to feel that euphoric glow.

“fuck,” you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. “shit, baby, i’m gonna—”

semi doesn’t mind the sting of your scratches at his body as he was too busy paying mind to you cumming all over his hand. gushing fluid escapes from you in waves as semi continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, his pace matching with the way your walls pulsated around him.

as you came down from your high, your arms that rested on the table to hold you up felt weak. almost immediately, your body slumps onto semi as he licks your pleasure off his fingers. you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you both stayed there for a few beats to catch your breaths, savoring the unique afterglow whenever you were with semi.

perhaps it wasn’t so bad doing this type of thing with him a bit more often. you didn’t mind what you had with him right now even if you two were just friends with benefits. you liked what you had now and asking for more would certainly cause a strain you don’t want to happen so soon.

your hand reaches up to run through his soft hair.

“hey,” you softly say. he only responds with a hum, “what about you?” you ask as your eyes cast down to the straining tent in his jeans.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he places a few kisses on your cheek and down to your neck before placing one of your lips. “let’s continue this at home, i have a surprise for you.”

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @anejuuuuoy

[prfctethereal]

bad idea. | remus lupin

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play bad idea by ariana grande 

pairing: remus lupin x reader (rivals to lovers)

summary: you and remus are rivals. after james and sirius find out about your fear of werewolves, they use it to exploit you, and help remus

word count: 4,393 (i'm sorry)

warnings: violence, language, mentions of trauma

a/n: haven't worked on this series in a while but whatever lol. this piece took my like two months from when I first started it because I kept changing it but oh well, enjoy - kennedy

***

Nothing felt better than being top in the class academically. Seeing the perfectly round ‘O’ at the top of a paper after getting it back was one of the few things that made me truly happy and proud of myself. I always thought that getting all these excellent marks would place me first place in my class, but I guess I was wrong. Unfortunately, I wasn’t first place. I was first equal.

Remus Lupin: the only person who could give me a run for my money. Every day in class was a battle to see who would win the unspoken competition. Subtle glances, snide comments, rolling eyes, you name it. It was even harder with the fact that Remus was a lot of the time my work partner as most teachers had the same idea of pairing up their brightest students.

I didn’t necessarily hate the guy. There was just something in my guts that made me nervous around him, something disguised as a disliking. He was just too friendly, it didn’t make sense why out of everyone, he didn’t like me.

***

Another day, another frustration. Potions class had started and it was brewing day. The classroom was stuffy, making it hard to breathe through my tightly collared shirt. My hair was pulled off my face as I tried desperately to cut up fluxweed into manageable. The swimming fumes of the half done potion was flooding my senses and making it hard to see or perceive anything that was going on. It was roulette for the cutting knife and my finger.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Remus muttered under his breath, bringing his attention to how I was preparing the ingredients. Huffing, he pulled the cutting board towards his side of the work bench and held out his hand, asking for the knife silently.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I scowled, reluctantly handing over the knife to the rough looking boy. My eyes lingered a little too long over his delicate skin, mentally tracing each and every one of his mysterious scars, until my thoughts were cut still by Remus shoving the cut weeds in front of me.

“I hope you know how to put them in the cauldron.” There was a hint of cheek in his comment which I glossed over, poking my tongue out of my mouth and turning away from him, doing what he said. One by one, I carefully dropped the fluxweed into the bubbling concoction.

Grabbing my wand, I mixed the potion, watching Remus out of the corner of my eye. He seemed fixed and concentrated on cutting the leeches up, ignoring my presence completely. It wasn’t unusual to get the cold shoulder from my potions partner, but somehow, it still hurt like the very first time.

“Add these in now.” Remus commanded nonchalantly, pushing the cut up leeches onto the bench for me. Rolling my eyes, I brought my forefinger and thumb to the nearest leech and picked it up, feeling the grimy texture on my skin. All of a sudden, I felt a burst on pain ripple through my finger, my vocal chords letting out a loud yelp, as the leech’s teeth bit deep into my forefinger. Looking down, a thick line of blood was dripping down my finger, the leech still connected to my skin.

“Are you okay?” Remus must’ve heard my cry and immediately turned to me. He brought his hands to mine, gently cradling my bleeding wound. There must’ve been some poison in the leech’s venom as my finger started to discolour and turn a worrying shade of black. Even my head was feeling lightheaded. Trying to keep my balance, I placed my nondominant hand on the workbench to help keep me up, but it failed, falling into Remus’ arms.

“No.” I croaked out, the pain almost unbearable now. The veins on my hand were red and livid, with a dark, black bruise circling the bite mark. The leech was removed from my finger, probably by Remus, and my wound was on clear display. To top it all off, blood must’ve dropped into the ongoing potion as it was hissing angrily, turning a deep purple, not the soft yellow colour that it should’ve been. “You said you cut all the leeches. Why was that bloody thing alive?”

“I’m sorry.” Remus helped to sit me down on a chair but I was failing to keep my weight on my feet, toppling over at the slightest change in balance. My head was swarming with pain and white splotches danced in the corners of my vision. “I thought I cut them all. I didn’t realise I had missed any.”

By now, Professor Slughorn had come to see what the commotion was all about and had seen me barely conscious on a stool. He was trying to communicate but all I was focused on was the infection spreading up my hand. All the veins on my hand were now brick red, throbbing desperately. Shooting tendrils of pain were spiraling up my arm; a one way track to my heart and lungs. The only thing keeping my tethered to reality was Remus’ tight hold on my body, keeping me up right and conscious.

“Take her to the infirmary.” I could just make out what Professor Slughorn was saying by the way his lips moved and the vague sounds coming from his mouth. My lips involuntarily squinted as I felt myself being hoisted up and forced to walk out of the classroom, Remus’ tight grip around my waist never faltering.

He seemed desperate to keep a conversation with me going, talking to me the entire way to the hospital wing, trying to keep me from passing out. We were just about halfway there when my feet got caught up in the ground and my eyes succumbed to the white light ebbing my vision. My eyes rolled back into my head as I passed out in Remus’ arms.

***

“She just passed out?” Sirius asked, almost incredulous as Remus retold his encounter with Y/N from earlier in the day.

The four marauders were sitting in the grand hall, slowly munching away at their lunch. Guiltily, Remus took small bites, feeling remorseful as he knew Y/N wouldn’t be able to spend her lunchtime in the grand hall too. She was still in the hospital wing being treated for something Remus did.

“Flabbergasted leech! I forgot that they were deadly venomous. I should’ve been more careful when cutting them up.” Remus stabbed angrily at his salad, twirling his fork in exhaustion, his eyes never looking up to meet his friends.

“It’s not your fault, mate,” James tried stepping in to calm him down, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder in a calculated manner. “Anyway, I thought you hated her.”

Remus scoffed, taking a bite out of a stray lettuce leaf. “I don’t hate her. She just gets on my nerves. Always trying to get top in the class. I don’t even care about being top, it just pisses me off that she tries so much.”

“But why?” Peter shrugged, a confused look on his face as Remus pondered the question.

In all honesty, Remus had no idea why he had such a negative attitude towards Y/N. Something about her always riled him up in a way he never expected. He just had to get on her nerves and annoy her. It was like he craved to come out better than her.

“I don’t know. I just really want to knock her down a peg. I’m not sure if it’s the full moon talking but I just want to annoy her in some shape or form, y’know?”

“Let’s prank her. Rile her up a bit.” Sirius suggested playfully, poking Remus with the fork in his hand, prodding at the thinking boy.

“Maybe. She’s already pretty pissed at me because of the leech situation. I don’t want to get her even more annoyed.” Remus looked quickly between the three other boys, who already seemed encapsulated in another conversation. “Whatever, I don’t care. Prank her if you want. After the full moon tonight though.”

Sirius’ face lit up with delight when he heard those words fall from Remus’ lips. “Alright! That’s more like it.”

Clapping Remus on the back, James nodded eagerly, mischievous looks bouncing between the three of them. Remus couldn’t care less. All he could think about was if Y/N was okay.

***

Stumbling through the halls, I managed to find my way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. I had just been discharged from the hospital wing, with Madame Pomfrey advising me to stay longer. I left though; I hated missing class. Also, Professor Merrythought said that it was going to be a practical lesson today and I didn’t want to miss it.

Apparently, there was still a little bit of poison left in my bloodstream, but according to Madame Pomfrey, it would be all out of my system by tomorrow morning. I just had to be careful that I didn’t injure myself anymore.

Standing outside the door, I swiftly knocked and entered the classroom. I wasn’t entirely late; class had only started ten minutes ago. Everyone seemed to be crowded on one end of the classroom, so I easily blended in with the group of students. Without acknowledgement, Professor Merrythought continued on with her lesson, only a slight look in my direction to tell that she was aware that I had shown up.

“Can anyone tell me what is in this wardrobe?” Professor Merrythought asked the class. Annoyed, I realised that I couldn’t answer the question as I hadn’t been there for the start of the class and had missed all the introduction. Scowling, I noticed Remus’ hand shoot up in the air. “Yes, Mr Lupin?”

“It’s a boggart.” Remus started, blissfully unaware that I had arrived in class. “A boggart doesn’t have a permanent form and takes the shape of what fears you most. No one knows what it looks like when it isn’t in the form of a fear.” He finished smuggly, a cocky grin smothered all over his face. Unknowingly to him, he had forgotten a crucial detail.

When Remus finished his monologue, I raised my hand up from behind him, a sly smile also on my face. Professor Merrythought caught my hand with her eye and nodded sweetly at me. “Yes, Miss L/N?”

Remus spun around. His brows were knitted together and he looked annoyed, that cheeky grin wiped off his face. Winking at him discreetly, I continued with what I was going to say. “The incantation to eradicate the boggart is Riddikulus, though it won’t banish the boggart indefinitely; only disarm it temporarily. While saying the charm, you must think of an element of fun as the only thing to get rid of a boggart is to get rid of the fear itself.”

“Exactly.” Professor Merrythought began addressing the class. “Now, I would like you all to go off and practise saying the charm for ten minutes. Then we can reconvene and practise on the actual boggart.”

Leaving the group of students, I went off to a quiet corner, muttering “riddikulus” over and over under my breath. Pointing my wand and waving it with the right hand motion, I practised the charm, until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, waking me from my daze.

“Remarkable work, L/N. I see hospital life wasn’t treating you too well? You’re back sooner than I expected.” Remus quipped, obviously trying to start a quarrel with me.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to miss a lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts, would I? Then I wouldn’t get to see your darling face.” I replied sarcastically, a fake sickly sweet undertone in my voice.

“You’ve seemed to mistake my friendliness as infatuation. I must change my attitude towards you immediately.” His voice was trying to come out dauntingly, but it was quite cute.

“You’ve must’ve interpreted my words incorrectly. You see, it wasn’t my longing for you that made me turn up to class. It was actually because I didn’t want your ego to get too big, thinking you were the top student. I came to class to put you in your place.”

The sternness in his face seemed to let go as he noticed how serious my tone was. I admit, it was quite harsh but I didn’t care now. My message went across loud and clear. Unfortunately, our conversation was interrupted by Professor Merrythought calling us students back to the wardrobe.

“So,” Remus said, starting a conversation, “what’s your biggest fear?”

I chuckled slightly, turning to look at Remus’ genuine face. “Honestly, I have no idea. I wouldn’t know where to start when thinking about my fears. Maybe failure? I’m not sure.” I let the vulnerability fall from my lips, forgetting that it was my biggest rival that I was talking to. “What about you?”

“Same. Haven’t a clue.” Remus said as we arrived at the group. Remus walked slightly away from me, back towards his group of friends, so I walked up to some nice Ravenclaw girls that I had always gotten along with and listened to Professor Merrythought speak.

“Alright kids, I’d like for you to make a single file line. Miss L/N, Mr Lupin, since you two have the most knowledge already about boggarts, can you please start off today?”

Nodding, I walked to the front of the line, Remus getting in behind me. Behind us, the rest of our class formed a line, ready to get their hands on a boggart.

“Now, Miss L/N, what’s your biggest fear?”

Reiterating what I had said before, I informed Professor Merrythought that I had no idea what my boggart would turn into.

“Not to worry dear. You are very smart. Just, think of something funny, first thing that comes to mind. Now, I’ll open the wardrobe now,” Professor Merrythought walked closer to the wardrobe and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, my firm grip on my wand never wavering. As the wardrobe door swung open, the boggart emerged from the wardrobe in the form of a werewolf.

A werewolf?!

All of a sudden, memories start swarming in from my childhood. I started remembering all about the night where my younger brother was attacked by a werewolf, barely making it out alive. Tears started spilling from my eyes as my arms shook. As the werewolf darted forward, all I could remember was the night where our family was cornered. I had had nightmares for years afterwards. Subconsciously, I fell to the ground, unable to cope with the intense emotions anymore.

My head was feeling heavy and for the second time today, I felt like I was going to faint. It didn’t help that I still had poison in my veins, fogging my head from being able to think properly.

There was movement around me as I could vaguely hear Professor Merrythought say the incantation herself, putting the boggart back into the wardrobe. I was minutes away from collapsing onto the ground, the only thing keeping me up were two strong hands gripping onto my arms.

It became too much and for the second time that day, I fainted into Remus Lupin’s arms.

***

Sirius and James had watched what had happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts today, and they had taken notes. They had noted down how Y/N reacted to werewolves and a plan had formed collectively in their mind.

Tonight was the full moon and they both knew that meant Remus was going to transform into a werewolf himself. What better way to shake up poor Y/N then to let her meet her greatest fear.

***

Coming to, I woke up in the hospital room again, a pounding in my forehead. It seemed that waking up in the infirmary was becoming quite a familiar thing for me. Annoyed, I pulled the covers off my body and started for the exit, before being stopped by Madame Pomfrey.

“Miss L/N, please, just stay here overnight. You’ve dealt with a lot of trauma today and it would be best for you to rest here until morning.”

I knew where she was coming from but there was nothing worse than sleeping in one of those uncomfortable hospital beds, so I shook my head, giving Madame Pomfrey a grateful smile.

“I think it would be best for me to continue resting in my own dorm.” I pulled myself out of Pomfrey's grasp and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor. “Thank you for your concern though.”

The corridor was less stuffy than the hospital wing and the fresh air did wonders for my forehead. I felt like I had just been born again as I walked out of halls and into the outside world. The sun had just set over the horizon and the full moon was peeking up over the hills. It looked beautiful tonight, the bright light shining in the sky, reflecting on the black lake. The stars stood out against the moon, the constellations telling stories I couldn’t even decipher. I felt at peace in the night air.

Deciding to take the long way back to my common room, I disregarded the curfew rules, opting for a peaceful stroll instead. Walking out of the clock tower, I made my way through the courtyard, the light breeze sending ripples of goosebumps onto my skin. It was slightly chilly but nothing that bad, so I continued my journey.

The grounds were quiet tonight. Hagrid must’ve gone to sleep early tonight as there was no light shining from his cabin. It was an unusual sight but it made me realise how dark it was actually getting. Knowing that since I had already had two sleeps today and I probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep right away, I decided to stay out longer, muttering “lumos” under my breath. Immediately, my wand lit up, letting light shine into the night.

That’s when I heard rustling from the bushes. Cautiously, I spun around, my wand pointing directly at the direction of the noise. Squinting, I tried to make out what was coming from where the noise came from.

Was that a person?

All of a sudden, I could make out the face of Sirius Black, absolute terror replacing his normal dug grin. His eyes looked frightened and he was a stuttering mess.

“Oh merlin, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here.” He was panting, stopping to catch his breath. “It’s Remus. He’s hurt.”

It was as if all my negativity towards Remus dropped in an instant. All I felt was concern for my self delegated rival. Immediately, I went off running from the same direction that Sirius came from, with Sirius eventually coming up at my rear, running beside me.

“Quick, towards the shrieking shack.” He stated and I nodded along. There was noise in the air tonight. I couldn’t tell if it was a dog howling or an owl hooting, all that I knew was that it made me sick to the stomach.

We stopped running when we reached the Whomping Willow. My heart stopped as I looked up the tree branches, somehow immobile. My gut was telling me to run away, but I looked back at Sirius, a pleading look in his eyes, and remembered that Remus was supposedly in there, supposedly injured.

“Lead the way.”

I gestured to Sirius and he beckoned me to follow him, kneeling down as he crawled through a hole at the base of the tree. Nervously, I followed, taking out my still illuminated wand and holding it close to my body. Only the light from my wand was lighting up the tunnel as Sirius and I walked further and further into the darkness. As we walked, the more and more concerning sounds I heard, including whimpering and some howling. My skin was itching but I fought the urge to run and we were suddenly at the entrance to another area.

Carefully, Sirius opened the door, leading us into a run down house. The walls were scratched up with claw marks and there were shreds of fabric littered all over the ground. A dingy smell of body odour and flesh was filling the room and I noticed how bloody hot it was in this shack, common sense telling me to pull off the sweater I was wearing.

Suddenly, Peter burst in through one of the rooms, always wearing a panicked look on his face. “Quick. James is injured here.”

I paused for a moment, my head spinning. I thought Remus was the one that got injured? But I didn’t have much time to think as a deer randomly sprinted out from one of the rooms, racing past me, it’s prongs slicing past my arms. I hissed as blood sept slowly from the wound, a stinging sensation flooding my arm.

Creeping in the direction the deer came from, I emerged into a room, stopping as I noticed the creature in the corner of the room. A huge werewolf was standing there, panting loudly, whimpering from its mouth. It’s paws were paling anxiously at the wall.

Then, it spun around, it’s nose twitching with excitement. It pounced forward at me, obviously being able to smell me from the other end of the room. I was too scared to move, the mouth agape as I watched the werewolf corner me against the wall.

It’s claws came swiping at me, cutting deep into my chest. One of the sharp talons cut on my neck, the wound bleeding much more than the others. The pain washed over me as I felt a tug at my arm, pulling me into another room. The door locked behind us, leaving the werewolf alone in the room.

Sirius was looking down at me as I fell to the ground. I couldn’t do anything anymore. Exhaustion caught up to me and I passed out for the third time today. The only thing different was that it wasn’t in Remus’ arms.

Oh shit.

Remus.

***

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up in the hospital wing now. It seemed to be late morning, as sunlight was streaming in through the window. I felt groggy but I mustered up another courage to prop myself upright on the pillow and scanned around the room. Directly in front of me, I could see James lying down on one of the hospital beds, a deep wound on his arm, bandaged up.

Next to him was Peter. All he had was a bandage over his head and a black eye, but he seemed to be completely asleep, as he didn’t wake up to when Sirius started talking to James next to him.

Sirius didn’t look nearly as injured, although he had a few bruises littered on his legs. He seemed to be in a furious conversation with James and someone else. With all I could, I listened in to the conversation, trying to grapple on to what happened.

“We shouldn’t have brought Y/N to the shack.” My heart dropped, remembering what happened. There was a werewolf that attacked me last night. It must’ve attacked all four of the marauders. That’s why Sirius was looking for me, because Remus was attacked. That’s why Peter said James was injured. He must’ve also been attacked by the werewolf.

Keeping my consciousness a secret, I slipped out of bed, avoiding the prying eyes of Sirius and James, and darted to what I assumed to be Remus’ bed.

His bed was surrounded by a curtain for the most privacy of the five of us. I didn’t know why until I looked inside and saw how battered and bruised he was. He must’ve been attacked the worse by the werewolf.

There was a gash, cutting across his face, slicing up his eyebrow. His chest was bare as a bandage was covering what seemed to be a deep cut, as it was already bleeding through the crème coloured linen, turning it a scarlet red. Remus did seem to be awake though so I approached his bed.

Sitting beside him, I reached out for his hand. I startled him, as he turned briskly around but melted at my touch as he saw my face. A look of guilt was spreading through his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Y/N-”

I cut him off. “There’s no need for you to apologise, Remus. You were also attacked by that werewolf last night.”

A confused face appeared on Remus before it contorted into something else. Contentment. “Right. I was attacked by the werewolf.”

“And you seem to have gotten the worst of it. You look terrible.” I tried making a joke and ease the tension, but making Remus laugh only seemed to cause him more pain as he clutched his rib.

“Y/N…”

“Remus?”

“Why are you afraid of werewolves so much?” He asked. I sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this question now.

“My family was attacked by a werewolf when we were younger. Well, I say my family. My younger brother was the target and he suffered a lot. I just feel so upset and guilty because of it. It should’ve been me. He was too young.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus said, reaching out so his other hand was touching mine. “That’s a horrible thing to go through.”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible to you.” I finally admitted, looking Remus dead in the eye. “I’ve always been so cruel to you for no reason and there’s no excuse for it. Like today, you helped me when I fainted twice. You had no need to do that, yet you did. Thank you.” Remus started talking but I cut him off. “Seriously Lupin, you mean a lot to me. I’m sorry our little rivalry got to me.”

Remus stayed quiet as his finger rubbed gently against the back of my hand. It seemed like he didn’t know what to say next so I decided to break the ice and end the awkwardness. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips gently to Remus’ cheek, watching as a pink tint flushed to the surface. I pulled away from his grasp, walking to the curtain.

“Again, thank you.”

And I walked away, hurt that he never said anything back.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

[outofsstyles]

WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count:  17.2k                     Rated: M, mature           

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter. 

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no. 

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down.   “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes,  how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

**

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns. 

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube. 

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions. 

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room. 

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her. 

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,”  You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,”  jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her. 

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out. 

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate. 

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other. 

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself. 

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

**

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it. 

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part. 

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you. 

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week. 

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate. 

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him. 

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,”  you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him. 

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this. 

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone. 

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the  pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again.  You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words. 

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or  even your own room - when you allowed her, of course. 

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit. 

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?”  You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?” 

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table.  He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said,  “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end,  just talking to each other. 

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon. 

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

**

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road. 

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs. 

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them. 

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet  Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming. 

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her. 

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged. 

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor. 

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep. 

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?” 

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it. 

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline. 

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly. 

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more. 

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other. 

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.” 

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you. 

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

**

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act. 

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more. 

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!”  he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday. 

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to  reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of. 

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets  before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,”  he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest. 

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place. 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent. 

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room. 

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.” 

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole. 

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most. 

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear 

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit. 

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him. 

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this. 

**

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that? 

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed. 

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity. 

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door.  You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The  following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

**

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind. 

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work. 

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened. 

He looked so good. 

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t  drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day. 

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

**

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely.  He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs. 

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more. 

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts.  His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move. 

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move. 

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

 The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way. 

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

**

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number. 

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about. 

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it. 

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

**

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,”  He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers. 

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side. 

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own.  Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?” 

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs. 

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name. 

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen. 

It was harder than you thought it would be.  Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth. 

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes. 

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car. 

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

[uswntxfootball]

all smiles here (jackie groenen x photographer!reader)

focusing on your new job turns out to be a hundred times harder after seeing the smiley dutch midfielder..

word count: 2343 ish

——

today was the day.

here you were, 22, fresh out of college and about to step foot onto the dutch training pitch for the first time and start your new job.

last night you had spent hours fretting over tiny details, making sure your cameras were charged and ready, your lenses were wiped clean, and that everything was nice and tidy.

you had planned to wake up extra early, making sure you had time to get everything situated and set before practice began.

that was the plan.

that’s.. unfortunately not what happened.

in your excitement, you had forgotten to set an alarm, which led to your current predicament, biking as fast as you can, racing through the dutch streets.

you glance down at your watch, narrowly missing a parked car as you do so.

you arrive at 7:58, just in the nick of time.

seeing that the team was already out stretching, you throw your bike down with a crash and run onto the field.

the crash of your bike hitting the pavement caused a few heads to turn your way, with a certain number 14 taking particular interest in your entrance.

blind to the commotion you caused, you laid your camera bag gently down along the side of the field (amongst the other photographers), then bend over unceremoniously, trying hard to catch your breath.

considering you had biked 5 miles in 10 minutes, you were spent, forgetting all your excitement in the process.

when your heart rate had somewhat slowed, you began setting up your equipment, and quickly the nerves and excitement arose once again.

you picked up your camera and took a photo of the closest player to test lighting (that player being sari van veenendaal), all the while internally screaming that that was the fifa 2019 best goalkeeper while doing so.

disregarding how much of a mess your morning was, the next hour went splendidly.

you managed to get a few shots of miedema with gorgeous lighting, photos that your manager undoubtedly would want to publish later on.

few photos were “unusable” (you were pretty damn good at your craft), and your camera roll was soon flooded with a wide variety of individual and group pictures.

at this point you had almost gotten all the players individually, your task being to get each of them by the end of practice, which was coming up shortly.

you snapped a few pictures of wilms, grinning widely when you see how well they turned out.

scanning quickly through the list of players, you sigh with relief when you realize you only have one more player to take photos of, #14.

you scan the field with your camera quickly and your breath promptly catches in your throat.

jackie was laughing at something daan was saying, her smile gorgeously on display.

you couldn’t help but stare, your hand lowering the camera as you forget the task at hand.

but how could anyone blame you?

she was, without a doubt one of the most gorgeous people you had ever seen.

her gaze meets yours suddenly, you let out a squeak of surprise in response and fumble your camera, breaking eye contact as you lunge forward to catch it.

you let out a sigh of relief when you grasp it, cheeks blood red at your actions, the older photographer next to you letting out a chuckle as he shook his head.

“kid you gotta be more careful.”

you nodded and smiled at him kindly, before shaking your head quickly and resuming to the task at hand.

with the ten minutes before the end of practice, you took, in total, one photo of jackie.

this was a disaster.

you just kept getting lost staring at her, this time through the lens of your camera, so starstruck that you forgot to actually take pictures.

you let out a sigh as you began thinking of an excuse for your boss later.

~~

walking into the locker room, jackie rolled her eyes at jill’s words.

“but did you see her jacks? that new camera girl is..” jill letting out a low whistle to finish her statement.

“i mean i’m taken but i have to agree she is pretty cute” daan said, popping into the conversation.

soon whole the locker room began chatting about this “new camera girl”, and jackie couldn’t help but blush.

she had to agree with everyone, you were absolutely adorable, and watching you almost drop your camera upon seeing her only solidified that.

jackie was brought out of her thoughts by jill who, very loudly, pointed at her and said:

“oh. my. god. you like her.”

jackie swatted jill’s hand away.

“shut up no i don’t.”

“oh my god she’s blushing she totally does,” daan squealed.

the locker room was soon buzzing with excitement over jackie’s new crush, filling the air with:

a lot of “omg jackie!”

and

even more “ask her out!!”

with jackie of course very adamantly denying such a proposition.

even through all of the teasing, jackie couldn’t help but hope that she would see you again tomorrow.

~~

you arrived earlier the following day, much much earlier, so much so that no other photographers had arrived yet.

you set your bike nicely against the rack this time, taking your time to admire the nice day as you lay your bag along the edge of the field.

you take a quick look at your watch, 7:17, and upon seeing that no one was around, picked up a soccer ball you found in the corner of the field.

having played a little bit of high school and college soccer, you juggled the ball around a little bit and then attempted to score from midfield.

you hit the ball right into the corner of the net on your second try, jumping up in excitement, when you hear someone speak behind you.

“for a sports photographer, that wasn’t all that bad.”

you turn around abruptly and let out a small squeak of surprise when you’re greeted by the very girl who had enchanted you the day before.

she lets out a dazzling grin before putting out her hand and saying:

“hi i’m jackie.”

“i- uhm y/n” you mumble, eliciting a giggle from the dutch girl before you.

you wipe your palms against your jeans quickly and take her hand, trying to desperately ignore the sparks that shot up your arm from the contact.

an awkward silence followed for the next few seconds, until jackie spoke.

“so, y/n, do you want to kick a ball around with me before people get here?”

“i’m, uh i’m not that good i mean i played a little in high school and college but like just for rec teams and i mean you’re on the national level so like i’m i don’t know i should probably just stick to photography i hope i didn’t offend you i’m just not that great and i yeah.”

you stop your rambling and blush, hoping she can decipher your message through your jumble of words.

jackie just lets out a laugh and your heart melts a little at the sound.

“i can take a few pictures of you though if you’d like?” you offer, hoping to spend a little bit more time with the midfielder.

“i would love that.” jackie says, letting out an even larger smile if possible.

for the next fifteen minutes you took dozens of photos of jackie, all the while learning about her life in manchester and belgium, how she broke a bike on the way to practice once, her dogs, and other snippets of her life.

you honestly couldn’t believe that this girl, this incredibly attractive and funny and just stupidly gorgeous girl was talking to you.

it was 7:50 when the other players arrived, jill letting out a whistle and yell when she saw who was already on the pitch.

“get it jackie!”

the other players cheered as well, letting out wolf whistles when they saw the two of you.

jackie got up but before she left she turned and gave you a hug then saying:

“sorry about them. they’re quite an obnoxious bunch.”

you let out a laugh and the two of you parted ways as practice was about to begin, your heart beating so fast you were afraid it would burst.

~~

“y/n.”

your boss let out a sigh as he took his glasses off.

“why are there 864 photos of jackie groenen in your camera roll?”

“i- i dont know” you stammer.

“this isn’t what i meant when i said you took too little of her yesterday.”

you flushed a deeper shade of red in utter embarrassment.

if your conversation with your boss was any indicator, practice was a disaster.

it wasn’t the players or practice itself.

it was you. your gay mess of a self.

but you just couldn’t help but trail the midfielder for the entire practice, your lens (and eyes) never leaving her.

it was only at the end of practice when you looked through your camera roll when you’d truly realized just how many photos you had taken of her.

each and every page filled with pictures of the number 14, her smile as bright as the day.

in your defense, you had taken quite a few fantastic photos of her, though there was one that was your favorite in particular, with the sun shining at the midfielder at just the right angle, illuminating her eyes and leaving her smile with its signature glow.

and of course that was the photo that caught your boss’s eye, despite his disappointment of today’s “turnout”.

and of course he wanted to publish it immediately.

and of course jackie saw it. and posted it. and tagged you in it.

where did she even get your handle from?

~~

it was sort of an unspoken agreement between the two of you, with both arriving early each practice to spend time with one another.

each time there’s jackie, always smiling and always gorgeous, and each time there’s you, always bumbling and always blushing and always tripping over your words.

and occasionally your feet.

but jackie only saw it as endearing, and continued to talk to you even when you were making a fool out of yourself.

eventually came the time for the netherland’s first matchup against a team, that team being estonia for the euro qualifiers.

you were brimming with the excitement at attending your first match as a photographer, and you arrived extra early match day to set up and get a good spot on the field.

“well if it isn’t my favorite photographer.”

you spun around quickly to spot jackie in her full kit, a blush promptly forming on your cheeks and your heart skipping a beat upon seeing her.

somehow you managed to reply:

“well if it isn’t my favorite player.”

this was your first time saying something that remotely resembled flirting with her, clearly catching the midfielder in surprise, as her face flushed a bright red a second later.

“i’m offended. i thought i was your favorite player.” daan said, appearing behind jackie, who stood frozen.  

you rolled your eyes.

“hate to break up the love fest though, but we’ve got a game to play.” daan said, tugging on the arm of an even redder jackie groenen.

after they left, you continued setting up your equipment, checking lighting and just making sure everything was all set and ready for the game to start.

and boy was it a game. 

in short,

the netherlands absolutely destroyed estonia.

in a huge 7-0 victory for the netherlands, there were an abundance of great photo opportunities, and you got them all.

goal scoring shots and celebration shots, everything.

you however, did let out two very loud cheers when jackie scored, once in the 26th minute and again when she completed her brace.

you had forgotten how empty the stadium was in your excitement.

each time you shouted the dutch girl, blushed, met your eyes and grinned before being pulled away by a teammate, who said something that sounded a lot like:

“your girlfriend’s here cheering for you.”

but in general,

you had expected the dutch to win.

you had expected daan, jackie, sherida, aniek, and katja to score as much and as well as they did.

you had even expected that you would embarrass yourself in some way during the match.

what you didn’t expect however, was for jackie groenen to come running at you after the match.

you were packing up your equipment when you saw the dutch girl approaching, and you opened your mouth to congratulate her on the brace and win.

but before you could get a word out,

she pulled you in by the camera straps around your neck and kissed you.

you stood, frozen, as if you couldn’t believe what was happening (because you really couldn’t).

jackie had started to realize you weren’t reciprocating and began to pull back when you came to your senses.

you kissed her back, hands moving to her waist to steady the two of you.

it was everything you wanted a first kiss to be, passion fueled and full of sparks, her hands moving from your chest to cup your cheek.

jackie was the one who pulled away first, a smile plastered on her face much like the one that had drawn you to her that very first day at practice.

you pulled her in to kiss her again, forgetting that your camera was still looped in front of your chest, only noticing it when it was in the way of getting her closer to you.

you pull back with an annoyed huff and gently take the camera off, turning to drop it on the bench behind you.

“go out with me sometime” you say when you turn around again.

jackie’s face just splits into a sparkling smile.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[imagineyourworld-old]

The Duchess and the Captain (Part Two)

Rex x Fem!Duchess!Reader

Summary: You get to know your husband, Duke Palpatine, and quickly realize what you will be missing in your marriage. Can Captain Rex make you feel better?

Warnings: Mentions of smut (maybe slight smut, I don’t really know, sex is not forced on the reader but expected of her and therefore might be triggering to some, but no detailed descriptions) 

Previous Part, Masterlist

-------

The next few days passed you by in a heartbeat. You spend most of your time getting acquainted with your new home, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. In addition to the main house there was the orangerie, a small tea parlor in the park and two different gardens just for afternoon strolls. And of course the stables, houses for servants, barracks for the guards and so many other building you didn’t even try to remember.

“You really are lucky”, your mother sighed with a content smile.

The two of you were strolling through the rose garden behind the house, the smaller of the two gardens. It was beautiful, everything was well kept and every flower had its place, but every time you were here you felt out of place. Confined to your life, trapped like the birds that Padmé had told you your husband insisted to keep locked in cages in the garden.

“I will be sad to leave you, but I really do need to get back to your father and brother. Now that you’re happily married it’s Edward’s turn and finding him a wife will be a lot more challenging than finding you a husband, you know how stubborn he can be.”

Though you tried you couldn’t really listen to your mother. All she talked about was how lucky you were to be married to the Duke, how happy she was for you and how excited you must be to see your husband again tomorrow.

You let your gaze sweep through the garden until it halted at General Skywalker. The General had been following whenever you set foot outside the house, and even inside he was never far. The first time you met he had told you that those were your husband’s wishes, that he was only there to keep you safe, but part of you feared he might be reporting your every move back to the Duke. Even the smile the General send you could not easy your suspicions.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Finally your mother’s word rang through to you.

“I’m sorry. I’m just... lost in my thoughts...”

Your mother put a reassuring hand on your arm. You leaned into the familiar touch, a small piece of home in this strange new place.

“Are you thinking of your husband? Do you miss him very much?”

Sometimes you were sure your mother had to be joking. She must realize that you didn’t love, didn’t even like, Palpatine. And it wasn’t just the age difference, which in itself made every interaction with him awkward, he was just so cold. It was obvious he cared as little for you as you did for him and that might have been what bothered you most. You had been more or less forced to marry him, for his money, his title and because no one else had asked to marry you, but he could have had anyone. Half the girls in the country would have married him in an instant, so why did he choose someone he didn’t have any feelings for? Why did he waste his one chance at happiness and propose to you?

“I... I was just thinking that our marriage might not be as it should. We’re nothing like you and father”, you finally said, hoping this would both voice your concerns and not be too obvious about them. But your mother just laughed.

“Darling, that is normal. Relationships take time and work, your father and I didn’t instantly fall in love, but when you’re raising a family together and spending your lives together love will come. And you are so easy to love, it will be alright.”

You should have known your mother would not understand your concerns, she had never shared your dreams of marrying for love, of being swept off your feet in a fairytale like romance. Before you could pretend to agree with her, however, you were interrupted.

Obi-Wan came to a halt before you. He inclined his head in a small bow before addressing you and your mother.

“Your Grace, my lady, the Duke has returned and wishes to see you.”

At first you thought, though you knew it was wishful thinking, that he was talking about another Duke. Maybe one of your husband’s friends had come to visit and wanted to meet you for the first time. But you knew you would have had to face Palpatine, even if he was a day early.

“Thank you, Kenobi. Thought I would like to change before greeting my husband. If you would be so kind as to send Padmé up to my room.

The butler nodded.

“Certainly, my lady.”

-------

-------

Half an hour later you were sitting in the drawing room with your husband.

“I take it the house is to your liking”, he said.

Those were the first words either of you had spoken since your “Good afternoon” ten minutes earlier.

You sat your cup down on the saucer and smiled at him. A smile you hoped seemed happy and sincere.

“Very much, thank you.”

Silence took hold of you again. You refrained from playing with your spoon or the hem of your dress, two of your nervous habits your mother had told you a thousand times to drop.

You looked around the beautiful room. The curtains were moving ever so slightly in the wind that came through the open windows, one of your husband’s ancestors was staring at you from the huge portray above the fire place, his eyes seemed to follow your every move.

“I will only be here one night. Urgent business calls me away my estate in Naboo tomorrow, technically I should not even be spending the night and go there right away, but I suppose we should get to work.”

You turned away from the picture to look at the Duke. He was staring at you with an unreadable expression in his cold eyes, so cold and calculating, they almost made you shiver.

“I’m not sure I understand”, you said, hating how weak and uncertain you sounded. “What ‘work’ are you referring to?”

For a moment your husband’s masked moved as he looked at you in shock. You hated how he could make you feel dumb and inferior without saying a single word, but you knew it was not your place to say anything about that.

“I am of course talking about producing an heir.”

Now you couldn’t stop the shiver. You knew you had to give your husband an heir, multiple if possible, but part of you had hoped he would forget all about that part of your marriage after your wedding night. But you knew your duty and you had heard more than enough stories about women who refused their husbands, or even had lovers, and the terrible things that happened to them and no matter how much you didn’t want to, you would rather get it over with than suffer the same fate.

“Yes, I... of course. I am looking forward to it.”

Another cold glance from Palpatine and the very forced smile fell from your lips.

“It is not for you to look forward to or to enjoy, it’s is your duty.”

All you managed to do was nod. What else were you supposed to do? Where you supposed to answer anything?

Palpatine seemed content with your reaction though. He placed his tea on the small table between you and got up.

“One more thing”, he said as he reached the door. “I will be taking General Skywalker with me from now on, there were some... disputes the last couple of days and I will be needing more protection. Captain Rex will be your personal guard from now on.”

Without so much as a goodbye he left the drawing room and closed the door behind him.

With a loud sigh you leaned back on the couch, ignoring where your corset dug into your ribs uncomfortably. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“It’s just one night, he’ll be gone again tomorrow”, you whispered, knowing that it might just be one night this time, but that your husband would always come back for more and there was nothing you could to to stop him.

“My lady, are you alright?”

You hadn’t heard anyone entering the room, but even without looking you recognized the familiar voice. Though the words were professional, the tone made it clear that Rex wasn’t just asking because it was expected of him, he really cared, at least to some degree. 

You opened your eyes to find his own focused on your face, an uncertain look in them, as if he wanted to step closer but didn’t dare to. 

“No”, you whispered. 

Abruptly you sat up straight again. Panic flooded through your veins. You were supposed to say “I’m fine”, not tell anyone, especially a guard, a servant, that you were not alright.  

“Is there something I can do?” 

Now the Captain really did take a step towards you. He wasn’t close exactly, definitely not as close has he had been that night in the kitchen, but you could have sworn you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes and smell a mixture of leather, horses and something you could only describe as sunshine. 

You shook your head. There was nothing he, or anyone, could do. You had gotten yourself into this situation, and not just the having to sleep with the Duke part, but the whole entire marriage. Though it had been expected of you, you could have declined his offer. Your mother would have been disappointed, your father mad, but they would have come to accept your choice. 

After taking another deep breath you decided it was time to get up. But for some reason even something as simple as standing seemed like an impossible deed right now. The Captain instantly noticed your struggle. He stepped even closer, close enough for you to take his hand when he offered it to help you up. 

His skin was rough, making it obvious you were holding the hand of a guard, someone who saddled horses and shot guns all day, but that roughness felt realer than any of the soft fabrics you had touched all your life. 

You knew you should let go the moment you were on your feet, you knew what this would look like should anyone walk in on you, but your thumb seemed to have a mind of its own when it started softly stroking the Captain’s hand. 

He let out a sound that was something between a sigh and a growl while tensing and relaxing within a single second. At first you feared you had overstepped a boundary, a personal that is, because this was without question overstepping any professional boundaries. Your eyes had been focused on your hands, but you slowly lifted them to meet his gaze. The Captain’s eyes were darker than they had been just moments before, but there was an warmth in them you had not seen before. 

“You know”, you whispered in a soft voice as not to interrupt the moment. “I feel better already.” 

And you really did. The guard’s touch and the warmth in his eyes made you feel more comfortable, more relaxed, than you had been for days. 

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then cleared his throat. His voice was deeper than it had been moments before and it made your body tense in unfamiliar places. 

“I’m glad.” 

It seemed as if he wanted to add something when the door burst open. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Skywalker needs your help, he lost something and keeps mumbling about how you’re his only hope”, the intruder, another guard you recognized as Rex’s brother Fives, exclaimed. 

You hadn’t noticed the Captain had let go of your hand until he took a step back. His cheeks were slightly darker than they had been before, but his expression hasn’t changed. 

It was only then, when the blonde moved away from you, that his brother realized you were even in the room. He shot the Captain a look you could not read, no matter how much you wanted to, before bowing slightly. 

“Your Grace, I did not see you there.” 

A soft laugh found its way out of you. You couldn’t help but instantly like Fives. He was more relaxed than his brother, though they shared a light in their eyes that told you how much alike they could be. 

“It’s alright, Fives.” 

The guard’s eyes widened in shock. 

“You know my name?” 

“Your brother told you a bit about you, about your other brothers as well. I myself am very close to my older brother Edward, so... Sorry, I... I should probably stop talking.” 

The times your mother had told you not to discuss family with anyone, especially servants, came to your mind and after already breaking protocol with the Captain earlier you though it best to be quiet. 

Fives didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness as his eyes moved between you and his brother, which you, on the other hand, didn’t notice. 

“We should get to General Skywalker then”, the Captain finally said, interrupting the silence. 

With a nod, a “Good day, my lady” and a bow Fives left the room. His brother followed, but turned around to face you once more. 

“I hope you’ll feel better soon”, he said with a smile. A smile that told you that he didn’t regret what had happened between the two of you earlier. 

You knew you shouldn’t, but you felt the same and tried to show it in your next words. 

“Thank you, Rex.” 

This time he heard you calling him by his name, the most beautiful sound he had heard in his life. But instead of closing the distance between you again, to touch your hand one last time before returning to his duty, he just bowed and hurried to leave the room. 

-------

That evening dinner was a quiet affair. Your husband barely talked, even though your mother tried her best to strike up a conversation. But the hardest part came after the meal when you had to say goodbye to your mother, who would be leaving early the next morning. 

“I will miss you so much, my darling. But you will be just fine, I know it. You’re going to be a great duchess and a good wife.” 

Your mother had tears streaming down her cheeks as she said this. She had the same proud look in her eyes as she did when you had accepted the Duke’s proposal and when you had exchanged your vows, after all, having your daughter marry a rich duke was every mother’s dream and her’s had come true. 

You told her that you would miss her as well, to give your love to your father and brother and that you would write as much as possible and then, after tearful hugs and kisses, your mother was gone and you were all alone. 

With tears still drying on your cheeks you sat at your vanity table and stared at your reflection. In the few days since the wedding you seemed to have aged a lot, not in the positive maturing sense either, you simply looked exhausted. Dark bags were under your red eyes, the colour has left your skin and even your hair seemed lifeless. 

“Pinching your cheeks should help”, Padmé offered as she stepped into the room. 

You turned around to face your maid. She was holding a candle in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other. Before stepping closer to you she laid the cloth down on the foot of the bed. 

“I have brought you a nightdress your husband wants you to wear.” 

The look in her eyes spoke of sympathy and pity and even though you knew she was being kind you resented her for it. If Padmé ever got married she could choose her husband, choose someone she loved and who loved her and not marry a cold old man because it was expected of her. 

“Is there”, Padmé started but hesitated to continue. Only when you looked at her and nodded did she speak again. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable tonight?” 

You took a moment to think about it but ended up deciding that there really wasn’t. You had already downed more wine than usually at dinner and it had done nothing to calm your nerves and in the end you decided that you would rather be fully present for what was about to happen than give your husband the opportunity to do whatever he wanted without resistance. 

“Thank you, but I think I’ll manage.” 

Call it women’s intuition, but both you could tell that Padmé didn’t really believe you. 

“Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but if you ever want to talk about what happens in the bedroom between husband and wife, or anything else for that matter, I am here for you.” 

In that moment you realized that just because your mother had left didn’t mean that you were alone. Yes, Padmé was your servant, but you knew other girls who were good friends with their lady’s maids, so why shouldn’t she be your friend as well as your servant? 

“Thank you very much for the offer, but I doubt there is anything you know that I don’t. After all, you’re not married.” 

She raised an eyebrow and seemed to consider something before ultimately shaking her head. 

“I’m not”, she said in a tone that made you question whether there was someone who held a special place in her heart. “But I have heard that some women think of other men when in bed with their husbands.” 

For some reason you didn’t want to investigate any further Captain Rex popped into your head. The feel of his rough hands against your soft ones, the warmth in his gaze, the sound of his voice and laugh. You quickly shook your head, both to get rid off the thoughts and to hide the colour rising to your cheeks from Padmé. Fortunately your maid knew not to press the issue any further. 

“Should I help you change into your nightdress?”

-------

You supposed you should consider yourself lucky that your husband seemed to be in a hurry to get his visit to your bedroom over with. He was in and out of your room within minutes. The time he was with you, and inside you, still felt like hours rather than minutes. The entire time your husband didn’t speak a word, not even a “good night” when he left again and if it hadn’t been for the noises he made you would have thought it was just as much of a duty for him as it was for you, but your mother had told you enough for you to know that the noises meant he was enjoying himself. 

As soon as you heard the door from your sitting room to the corridor close you hurried off the bed and to your bathroom. Padmé, as if she’d know you would need it, had left a second bowl of water and piece of cloth next to the one you used to wash yourself in the morning. You tried to clean your nether regions as best as you could before returning to the bedroom, where you covered as much of the bed as possible with the two clean towels you had brought from the bathroom. 

Though you didn’t feel as clean as you would have liked it would have to do for now and it didn’t take as much tossing and turning for you to fall asleep as you had anticipated. 

-------

The next morning Rex didn’t see you until a few hours after Palpatine had left. He had asked Echo to stay with you while he arranged for the General’s absence, but around midday he finally managed to relief his brother and take on his duty of watching over you. 

You were seated on a small chaise in the rose garden and Rex tried not to stare at how the sun shone on your hair and made your skin glow. Your eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell whether you were sleeping or simply relaxing, all he knew was that you looked more peaceful than you had the day before. 

“What were you doing all day? I thought you were supposed to always be with me”, you asked. 

Rex didn’t know how you could tell it was him standing in the shade of the cherry tree and no longer Echo since your eyes were still closed. For a moment he entertained the thought that you could sense him as much as he could sense you, but he banned that idea from his head almost as soon as it appeared. You had probably just opened your eyes for a split second and seen him, that had to be it.

“I had to sort through the General’s notes for training and timetables to keep everything running smooth while he is gone, that took a while.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement. Finally you looked at him. He felt as if your eyes could look straight through cloth, flesh and muscle to into his soul, and find something growing there you were never supposed to see. 

“I’m glad you’re here now, Captain.” 

The almost teasing way in which you pronounced his rank reminded him of how you had said his name the day before. He had heard beautiful instruments, stunning voices and the exoctic birds the Duke kept around the gardens, but nothing compared to how you said his name. To him it no longer sounded like a name, but a beautiful song, something to cherish, to think of before falling asleep at night and to haunt one’s dreams. 

Though Rex wasn’t what you would call shy, he was very reserved, especially when dealing with his employer, so he did nothing but nod at your comment and then stare straight ahead. He had already allowed himself too many liberties with you and now, as your personal guard, he had to remain professional, or else risk losing everything. 

You, however, did not seem to get his subtle hint, because you just kept talking. 

“I must admit, I much prefer the other garden, what was it called again? The rose garden is beautiful and everything, but it’s just a little too close to the house, I much prefer something more private. But it is too hot to take a single step more than necessary. I really don’t know how you manage in your uniform, you must be melting. Though, if you want, you could take off your jacket. Only if you want, maybe you’re cold, maybe it’s just me who cannot take this heat, but if you want to -”, you stopped your rambling mid sentence. 

Rex risked a short glance at you. Your face was red, as was your neck, and a single drop of sweat was running down your temple to your neck and even further down towards an area he would not risk looking at. 

“I’m sorry”, you said after a bit of silence. “I often find I cannot stop talking when I’m nervous.” 

He tried, he really tried, not to show his surprise, but his eyebrows seemed to have a will of their own when they lifted in confusion. Though Rex managed not to look at you when he spoke, a small victory. 

“What do you have to be nervous about, my lady?”

Part of Rex knew that this conversation could go in a direction it shouldn’t, meaning anything other than the most basic small talk, but another, larger, illogical part, wanted you to keep talking and to listen to every single word you said. 

Your shadow and your footsteps on the gravel told Rex that you were coming closer. Still he did not turn around to face you, not even when you stopped and stood next to him, close enough that he could touch you if only he moved a few centimeters. 

“Everything, to be honest. And nothing at the same time. I am married, living in a big house and should be the happiest girl alive, but it’s just not what I imagined. I feel so out of place, event though this is my home now, and my husband -” 

Rex felt you taking a deep breath rather than hearing it, your whole body relaxed after your exhale. 

“I guess I should stop talking now. After all, my husband is your employer and the only person who should talk about him even less than me, is you.” 

It was your resigned tone that finally made Rex turn to face you. Your blush was gone, instead you had gone quite pale. Only your bright eyes and your lips, the bottom of which you were currently biting, gave your face pops of colour. 

“Did he hurt you?”, Rex asked against his better knowledge. Yes, he was supposed to protect you, but that protection did not extend to the Duke, who, as your husband, was legally allowed to do with you whatever he wanted. 

You hesitated for a fraction of a moment before shaking your head. 

“No, he didn’t. It’s just... My marriage simply isn’t what I had been expecting.” 

Both relief and sadness flooded through Rex. Of course he was glad the Duke hadn’t laid his hands on you, but his heart was also breaking for you. 

“I suppose I was simply holding out hope for a knight in shining armor for so long that even now I can’t get rid of the idea. But that’s on me for reading too many books and wishing for a fairytale.” 

A twinkle was back in your eyes. Maybe, Rex thought, you were thinking of your childhood dreams or even a childhood love. And though he didn’t like the thought of that, a feeling he shoved down as deep as possible, he was glad to see some of your sadness gone. 

“I’ve heard of other women who gain their happiness through their children instead of their husbands”, he said in a low voice. It was something he had seen with his mother, who gave all her love and care to him and his brothers and didn’t seem to have much for her husband.

“Children...”, you stepped closer to Rex after whispering the word. Your (y/e/c) eyes settled on his honey coloured ones. “That’s the whole reason the Duke even married me, to give him an heir. I guess that really is all I’m good for.” 

Rex’s eyes widened in shock. Did you really think that? Did you not see that there could be so much more to your life? 

“I am sorry, my lady, but I disagree. There is so much more to you than the ability give the Duke an heir. You have your whole life ahead of you and-” 

Suddenly Rex noticed the way your eyes hung on his lips, the astounded expression on your face. 

“I... I’m sorry, it’s not my place to say such things.” 

One second you just stared at Rex, the next you reached out and held his hand in yours. A soft smile was on your face and just like that all his worries of getting scolded disappeared and were replaced by a feeling of content and warmth spreading from his hand all the way to his heart. 

“Thank you, Rex”, you said, your voice soft and sincere. “No one has ever said anything like that to me. You’re a kind man.” 

Rex had gotten compliments before, from his mother, his brothers and his General, but never had they meant as much as the four simple words coming out your mouth. He could have sworn his heart stopped at the combination of your smile, your touch and your words. You were giving him so much by simply being with him and he knew, deep down, that nothing he could say would ever repay you for the way he felt in that moment. 

I finally managed to continue this story. Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to take my time to do this right and with uni starting again time is something I don’t have a lot of recently. 

But a huge thank you to everyone who read and commented on the first part! It really means a lot, even though I haven’t figured out how to reply to you using this blog I have read the comments and they warmed my heart. I hope you’ll enjoy this part as much as the first one and are looking forward to part three. 

Taglist: @and-claudia @pinkiemme @callme-eds

[poetrusicperry]

A Meddling Friend

charlie dalton one shot

word count: 2,380

warnings: none

notes: soooo i wrote a matchmaker!charlie one shot because i felt like it heh (also there is no way charlie isn’t the best matchmaker around tbh)... here it is (: 

A Meddling Friend

When Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton set out to do something, hardly anything could stand in his way. A meddler by plain terms, Charlie butted his way into any situation, whether he saw a benefit in it for himself or for others. Oftentimes, Charlie’s triumphs would stem from wanting to succeed. In what? The possibilities were endless. He had once convinced his entire chemistry class to fudge their hardest experiment of the year (“Look, the teacher can’t possibly fail all of us; a failure on all of us means gigantic failure on him,” he’d said pointedly), he’d tricked his younger sister into begging their parents for a dog, despite her allergies (when asked about why he didn’t just ask his parents for a dog, he claimed they were much more inclined to appease his sister), and he’d smooth-talked his way into a date to the Ridgeway Junior Prom at a diner in town on a dare (“Now I have a hot date and five bucks from all of you”). His successes were plentiful, and there was no end in sight.

So when Charlie had endured months of secret glances between his best friend, Neil, and Neil’s roommate, Todd (not to mention the awkward, weighted silences and painfully obvious unsaid words), Charlie decided to do what he did best: meddle.

The leaves were in their adolescence on the trees; varying shades of orange and red made campus seem ablaze. Charlie would find himself, on multiple occasions, staring out the window when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. Today was no different– the leaves were beckoning, and Charlie’s eyes sat fixed upon them until he heard his name being called from the front of the room,

“Mr. Dalton?” being at the back of the room, everyone turned in their desks to look at Charlie.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, unfazed. Dr. Hager had begun to go into detail about the question he had just asked Charlie, but Charlie’s gaze was, again, caught. This time, by Todd, who was the only person not looking at Charlie; Todd was looking at Neil. Charlie hadn’t heard a word his teacher had said, more focused on the fact that Todd was gawking at Neil and Neil didn’t even seem to notice. Rolling his eyes at Charlie, Richard Cameron (Charlie’s roommate), raised his hand to answer the question Dr. Hager asked.

“That’s a demerit, Mr. Dalton,” Dr. Hager deadpanned before calling on Cameron. After everyone had turned back around to face the front of the room, Charlie sat forward in his seat, watching Todd, who was still looking at Neil. Upon dropping his pencil, Neil bent to pick it up, locking eyes with Todd on his way back to sitting normally. A smirk played on Charlie’s face when Todd’s face flushed as he turned back toward the front. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Neil’s cheeks had also turned slightly cherry-colored as his eyes darted back to his notes. Charlie sat smugly back into his chair and began to hatch a scheme in his head. If he could just get them to admit their feelings for each other, the world would be a better place.

A few weeks prior to the day, Charlie had caught Neil drawing a heart around Todd’s name in the margins of a trig textbook. A few days before that, Todd had read an original poem out loud in their English class that was so clearly about Neil it was painful (“Richest coffee eyes / That paint the stage wonderful”).

Charlie didn’t dare bring up the subject with any of his other friends, but once alone with Neil after Chemistry, he began to work his magic.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked Neil, nudging him slightly as they walked down the hallway.

“What?” Neil returned, confused.

“You dropped your pencil during chem. I’ve never seen you do that. So that either means you were distracted by something, or you were falling asleep, which means you haven’t been sleeping well because you’re stressed out. Which is it?” Charlie prodded, looking at his friend as they continued down the hall, “Come onnnnn, Perry,” he goaded, elbowing Neil, who sighed in exasperation.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” Neil groaned, adjusting his books in his arms and casting a nervous look at Charlie.

“Lie to anyone else, Neil. Anyone else but me. It’s just embarrassing at this point,” Charlie smirked, “And offensive.”

“It’s just… the play. It’s hard to memorize without help,” Neil sighed before turning to Charlie, “You could help? Do you want to help me, Charlie?” Neil said excitedly. Bingo, Charlie thought.

“I’d really love to, Neil, but I’ve got some Latin stuff with Meeks for the next few days,” Neil sighed, “I do, however, know someone who can help you,” Charlie finished, pleased with himself.

“Who is it?” Neil cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if you know him, but I’ll just tell him to meet you somewhere tomorrow? What time?”

“How do I know this guy isn’t crazy?”

“Again, I’m hurt. You don’t trust me to put you into good hands?” Or Todd’s hands, Charlie thought, laughing to himself.

“Of course I trust you, Charlie, it’s just… I don’t know, I’m stressed out, and my father is all over me, I just need some help. If you know someone who can help, I’m more than willing to accept. I don’t mean anything bad by my reactions, I promise.”

“I know you, don’t, Neil,” Charlie clapped Neil on the back, “At the dock, tomorrow at 4. He’ll be there,” he looked at Neil, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Charlie smiled as they made their way onto the landing of the boys’ floor.

After parting ways with his friend, Charlie bursted the door to his own room open, startling Cameron, who was sitting at his desk studying.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared me half to death,” Cameron clutched his chest.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Charlie smirked, jumping into bed (with his shoes still on). He turned onto his back and put his hands behind his head, crossing his outstretched legs.

“Can you look at this trig, see if it makes sense?” Cameron asked, holding his textbook up to Charlie.

“At any other time, any other day, and in any other circumstance, I totally would, but I have some things to plan. Sorry, Cameron,” Charlie shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Come on, Charlie. I rarely ask you for help, and the one time I do, you won’t do it?” Cameron groaned. He opened one eye at the redhead across the room.

“Trust me when I tell you, the thing I’m planning is a lot more important than trig,” Charlie shot Cameron a knowing look, then closed his eye again, beginning to visualize and scheme as his roommate huffed a sigh and turned back around to his desk.

The following day brought giddiness for Charlie; he’d gotten Neil committed to going down to the docks, now he just needed to get Todd alone. The only thing Charlie was still figuring out was how. Todd was the biggest introvert Charlie knew.

Charlie’s proclivity for picking up on the ins and outs of his best friend had led to having more insight into Todd as well. Todd Anderson was new to Welton this past fall. And he was Neil’s roommate, so by association Todd had slowly, but surely (and slightly excruciatingly) joined Neil and Charlie’s friend group. He mostly listened and watched, but always sat near (although not too near) Neil when they were hanging out.

Since they were kids, Neil had always been personable; every new thing he learned about a person, would be spun in a positive way, even if the trait was inherently “bad.” He and Charlie would spend hours talking about people, but not in the “let’s gossip” kind of way– they both found a lot of intrigue in the general population. Even as children they were constantly surveying their peers in a way normal children wouldn’t. When Neil had met Todd, it was no different; he would go on about his sandy-haired roommate for ten minutes straight without taking a breath. Why Todd had transferred schools, where his family is from, what kinds of activities he liked. Charlie found the answers to these questions interesting, but perhaps nothing was more intriguing to him than the fact that Todd had willingly shared all this information with Neil. From what Charlie had experienced, Todd was not a talker, and would rather sit in a painful silence for hours on end than open up to the friend group or start a conversation… but he was doing so with Neil. Granted, Neil asked a lot of questions, but Todd seemed comfortable enough around him to share. That was the first thing Charlie noticed between the two of them, and the catalyst that had sparked Charlie’s master plan of getting them together.

After breakfast, which entailed a small conversation about Playboy models, gross scrambled eggs, and of course, a silent Todd, Charlie hung back to catch the boy before he slipped away to the dorms before class.

“Hey, Anderson!” Charlie called, jogging after him. Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“H-hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Um, s-sure?”

“I’m meant to help out one of my friends with his poem later, but I have Latin tutoring with Meeks, and I figured since you’re so good at it, you could meet with my friend to help him out?”

“I… I don’t know, Charlie,” Todd knitted his eyebrows at the idea of meeting and talking to who he thought was a perfect stranger.

“It’d really mean a lot, Todd,” Charlie pulled his most innocent face and looked at the boy in front of him. Todd was quiet still, “Listen, if you really don’t want to, it’s no sweat. I just figured I’d ask you since you’re so good at writing,” Charlie smiled small, not wanting to push Todd that far.

“I… um, no I-I”ll do it. Where?”

“Ah, Todd you’re a lifesaver! It’s 4p.m. at the dock. You’re sure you want to?”

“Yeah, just… tell your friend I’ll be there,”

“I will, thank you!” Charlie called, backing away from Todd and turning away to head to class. I won’t be telling anyone a thing, Charlie grinned to himself, feeling pleased.

When the clock read 3:56, Neil began to get nervous. No one had shown up. Was Charlie pulling his leg? I’ll give them five more minutes, Neil thought, sitting criss cross on the dock and twiddling his shoelace between his fingers. His “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” script sat on his lap, frayed edges and all.

4:04, Neil sighed, looking at his watch. Just as he was calling it curtains for Charlie’s friend, Todd, flush-faced and sweaty, was making his way over to him. He was looking down at his shoes, careful not to stumble,

“H-hi, sorry I’m late, I got stuck in the dining hall behind–” he looked up to see a confused Neil. Neil’s disorientation spread to Todd’s features, “Neil?” he whipped his head around both ways to make sure someone else wasn’t coming.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Neil stood up from the dock, dusting off his pants and clutching his script apprehensively.

“I… um, I’m supposed to meet… Charlie’s friend… he needs help with–” Todd trailed off, looking at Neil quizzically– “Wait, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m… supposed to meet Charlie’s friend… he’s supposed to help me rehearse lines…?” Neil’s voice upticked at the end of the sentence, confusion prevalent between the two of them.

“Wait, you’re supposed to meet Charlie’s friend, a-and I’m supposed to m-meet Charlie’s friend, too?” Todd shook his head, unbelieving. Neil’s face changed on a dime, a green light going off over his head.

He smiled slightly and huffed a laugh, “I think we’ve been made, Todd,”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I think we’re meeting… exactly who we’re supposed to be meeting,” Neil blushed, looking at Todd, whose cheeks were rosy from rushing over to the dock (and probably at the situation, too).

“We’re… you’re the friend that needs help with poetry?”

“Todd, I think Charlie meant to get us here alone…” Neil looked to Todd, fidgeting even more with his script.

“W-well why would h-he do that…?” Todd chewed his bottom lip. Neil shut his eyes, almost as if the next thing out of his mouth would cause endless pain. He breathed an unsure sigh,

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Todd, “Charlie knows I have the biggest crush on you, and this was his way of making me make a move,” Neil’s cheeks were a deep crimson.

“You have a-a crush o-on me?” Todd gestured to himself, bewildered. Neil grimaced and nodded, squeezing the script tighter than before, averting his eyes, “Oh…” Todd’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around them once again, “I… are you sure?” Neil sighed again and sat back down on the dock.

“Yep,” he looked at his hands, the script clutched tightly between them, “I’m sure,” he sounded tired all of sudden. Todd stayed frozen for a few seconds before he trudged over to Neil’s slumped body and sat down carefully beside him.

“I guess Charlie’s g-good at this thing, then,” he laughed incredibly lightly.

“What do you mean, why?” Neil cast a glance up at Todd before looking away again.

“I don’t know… b-because I like you, too,” Todd mumbled.

“What?” Neil looked at him again, not daring to turn away this time.

“I like you… t-too,” Todd’s volume stayed the same. Neil raised his eyebrows, his eyes searching Todd’s.

“Really? This isn’t some prank that Charlie is pulling? You’re being serious?” Neil interrogated, his hands still wrapped around his script. Todd just nodded, earning a huge grin from Neil. Silence fell over the pair and their newly learned information, but when Todd spoke, his conviction surprised even himself.

“So can I help you read lines?” Neil’s smile was vibrant.

“I think I’d love nothing more.”

Charlie watched from his dorm window, smiling as the two boys sat down to read lines. He climbed down off of the windowsill and dusted his hands off, another victory in the books.

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Higurashi Gou Ep22

All of this ‘the culprit’s motives are super shallow and they’re just unhealthily obsessive’ discourse is giving me war flashbacks to . . . . basically every other part of the entire When They Cry franchise, lol.

Thoughts under the cut. [Plus spoilers for Umineko]

I feel like at the end of the day we’re all just gonna have to agree to disagree about how we feel about how Ryukishi is handling Satoko as the culprit here, since I don’t really think any amount of social media posts detailing our interpretations of her character are gonna change anyone’s minds, lol. But I’m still gonna give my thoughts on her anyway because it’s fun, even if I’m basically just preaching to the choir.

To be honest, this feels pretty much in line with how Ryukishi already wrote characters like Takano and Beatrice, in terms of them having unhealthy obsessions that lead them to mass-murder. The amount of violence Satoko has caused is arguably worse than either of them, but they’re all pretty awful if you think about the reality of what they all did as villains.

Sorta like with how a lot of the old-school Umineko discourse went, I think people are too focused on the whole idea of Satoko hating studying, and ignoring everything else about her character and her circumstances. Although even then I feel like people are being kinda unfair toward Satoko about how strongly she feels about academics, but maybe I’m just biased because of my own history with schooling and the intense levels of anxiety and self-hatred that can go along with it.

Plus the fact that Satoko already has a long history of sever abandonment issues, and has basically always had HS that amplified her feelings of paranoia and persecution. It’s pretty obvious at this point that she never really got ‘cured’ in the first place, though it’s less important to think about HS as an in-universe fictional disease with it’s own rules, and more important to just think about it as a representation of real-life mental illnesses which aren’t bound by the rules of made-up brain-worm parasites and aliens or whatever.

Also, the Satoko that started all this looping in the first place was one who never dealt with Teppei returning to the village, and thus never went through her whole character arc related to that. The series is kinda ambiguous about how it handles the idea of people’s character development carrying over between loops, but it explains a lot about Satoko’s attitude here if you go with the idea that she never really had to overcome any of her trauma or coping mechanisms in the “good ending timeline”, and this is the consequence of that taken to it’s logical extreme. The idea of her view of the world being skewed by the fact that she only remembers the “good ending timeline” is also kinda lamp-shaded by the part where she hears about Rika’s looping and is like “oh yeah, that’s the month where we had that cool action movie stand-off with the Mountain Dogs :)”. By the time she really got to understand exactly what was going on beyond the specific timeline she had experienced, she was already way over the edge.

I get why people don’t like the idea of Gou ‘tainting’ the VN’s happy ending, but I honestly like the idea that it’s examining the consequences of how Matsuribayashi was such an overly-specific timeline where basically nothing bad happened and everyone just banded together to beat Takano. It kinda glossed over a lot of the personal problems that the main cast had in the rest of the series, and this really goes to show the effects of some of that stuff not getting properly addressed. It also reminds me that Minagoroshi is a timeline that even in the VN, Rika completely lost her memories of, so I can see how even post-Matsuribayashi she might have never let Satoko know about the details of that one timeline where she overcome her abuse.

I also feel like it only really got to this point because of Featherine’s meddling. In the original Matsuribayashi timeline, Satoko just started drifting away from Rika and ended up wandering into the Saiguden and meeting Featherine before anything actually serious happened in that timeline. I think that if she had just been left to her own devices and that timeline had just kept going, Satoko probably would have either found a way to reconnect with Rika, or they would have just slowly drifted apart for good. But then Satoko got given the power to time travel, and only started going off the deep end after going through another five years of identical suffering.

And on that whole note, it reminds me of how in Umineko, Lambda had a whole conversation about the idea of an abused person becoming an abuser themself if they’re given the power to lash out. Which is basically what’s happening here. Satoko is being given the tools to completely detach herself from reality and try as many times as she likes to get what she wants.

Which also reminds me that this episode in particular REALLY lays the Umineko parallels on thick, lol. Particularly the whole ‘Satoko is turning into Lambda’ thing, which feels just about 100% confirmed now. They straight up have Featherine bring up the exact same ‘monkeys using a typewriter’ analogy to explain Rika’s situation that Lambda uses in Umineko to explain Bern’s situation.

I know a lot of people don’t like the increasingly blatant Umineko tie-ins, and that a lot of people still think it might just be misdirection, but considering how much stuff in Gou has been surprisingly straightforward and predictable, I think it’s pretty much exactly what it seems to be.

Though to be more specific, this is probably more about the start of Lambda and Bern’s relationship, and their appearances in Umineko, rather than the very first origins of them as individuals, if that makes sense. Obviously the concept of Bernkastel as an identity has been around since Higurashi itself, and we’ve known for a long time that Lambda was the one who originally gave Takano her blessing of certainty, but we’ve never known the full details of how those two started their relationship, and Featherine’s whole series of name-drops in the last episode makes it seem like Lambda as a meta individual more or less already exists, with Satoko being an iteration of her. So I think they both technically already exist, but this is how the two of them come into contact and start their whole unhealthily obsessive relationship.

I guess it’s still possible that, even if she’s already existed for a long time as a meta individual, she hasn’t actually come up with the name ‘Lambdadelta’ for herself yet, and this might be where she does so. Even with the list of names Featherine referenced, she didn’t technically bring up Lambda’s name directly. So in that sense this might be ‘Lambda’s’ origin story, even if she already exists.

Considering how basically the entire story at this point seems to be acting in service of setting up the whole LambdaBern relationship dynamic no matter what, I’m becoming increasingly convinced that this will end with Satoko and Rika fully embracing their codependency and mutually ascending to the meta plane so they can stay together once and for all. There might still be human versions of them that stay behind in the real world and continue living normal lives, though.

At the very least, it feels like that’s the logical outcome of the whole Chekov’s Sword Fragment plot device that’s been hanging in the background for ages now. I think it’ll just be the in-universe explanation they use to show the mechanics of how exactly that process works. It’ll probably be used to ‘sever’ Satoko and Rika’s meta consciousnesses from their physical bodies and allow them to basically become witches.

Mainly I just can’t really see this having a ‘happy ending’ at this point, aside from the whole idea that maybe the severing process leaves behind ‘normal’ versions of the two of them who stay in Hinamizawa and go back to their normal lives. I dunno if that’d make people happy, but it’d at least be a way for Ryukishi to have his cake and eat it too, lol.

I just don’t think that there’s any real chance of this ending with them just talking to each other and agreeing to put an end to all this, though. For one thing that’d just feel kinda anticlimactic and honestly make Gou’s story feel even MORE pointless, if it just ends with literally the exact same ending as the VN with nothing really being changed. But I also feel like Featherine wouldn’t be willing to just let Satoko ‘give up’ without having one of them definitively win their current game. In general I just feel like Ryukishi should just commit to the story he’s setting up at this point, instead of just backing out at the last minute and circling everything back to the same ending we already had like nothing in Gou ever happened. If we’re gonna have this whole new story to begin with, it should at least have some lasting consequences.

Anyway, I think in the next episode we’re finally going to loop back to the Damashi arcs and see how they played out. At this point I don’t care too much about getting answers to the ground-level mysteries of those arcs, and I doubt the story will spend much time on that, but I’m curious to see how it progresses Satoko’s whole development through these loops, since I think she goes through some changes with her motives and methods over the course of them.

Specifically I think that the actual experience of being physically present in her own set of loops and causing so much pain and suffering started to get to her, and she might have almost given up in her own way during Tataridamashi and wanted to just stay in that arc, but things went south anyway. Maybe, if that’s what happened, Featherine basically let her know that she won’t let her give up, and will force her to keep looping until one of them ‘wins’ no matter what. Either way, I think that arc was a turning point for her. Like how she asked Featherine to arrange things so that Satoko can make sure that she and Rika’s loops are synced up, she probably asked Featherine after that arc to change the rules again so that Rika will start remembering the details of her deaths. At this point it’s pretty obvious that the Hanyuu fragment Rika was talking to earlier in Gou was more or less just Featherine putting on an act and manipulating her, so the scene of Hanyuu giving her the power to remember her deaths was probably just Featherine telling her about the rule change.

And going by how the Nekodamashi arc went immediately afterward, I think that rule change was related to Satoko becoming increasingly desperate to put an end to the loops as soon as possible. And considering how she was willing to spend so much time reviewing Rika’s hundred years of looping just to prepare for this, it’d make sense to me if she becomes desperate because she basically gives up, but realizes that she isn’t actually allowed to give up, so she has to try and make Rika give in as fast as possible. Either way it’s pretty obvious that Satoko’s methods start becoming more violent in that arc, and she basically tries to brute-force Rika into submission, leading up to the loop where she just spawn-camps her and straight up starts screaming at her to just stay in the village while tearing out her guts. It’s still possible that her attitude in that loop was just one big act, but I think that was the result of her being genuinely desperate to just have Rika give up once and for all, and her starting to crack under the pressure of doing all of these things with her own hands across so many loops. 

So now we’ll just have to see how the confrontation between them at the end of Nekodamashi plays out once we get back to it. In the long run I just think it’ll lead to the ending I talked about before, with them using the sword on each other. The exact nuances of how that sorta ending might play out are up in the air, though.

Either way, I think there’s probably enough time to wrap up all that in two more episodes, but there’s still reason to believe that there might be some kind of sequel in the works. I don’t really want to bet on it, though, so I’m just gonna assume that there’s two episodes left and base my theories on that. In which case I think the next episode will go over the Damashi arcs and end with Rika and Satoko’s confrontation at the end of Nekodamashi, and then the final episode will wrap everything up. Considering that they both more or less know exactly what’s going on with each other by that point, there isn’t really that much that needs to be wrapped up. I think that will be the final loop we get, so it’ll all just come down to how their confrontation plays out, and what decision they come to about how to handle each other.

I honestly don’t really know how I think a full sequel would go, if it’s at least one cour long. Assuming that it’s not just a new Umineko anime that more or less continues Rika and Satoko’s arc via Lambda and Bern, but is a straight up ‘Higurashi Gou Season 2′. It just feels like there isn’t really that much that needs to be done to wrap things up, now that everything’s being laid out in the open, and Rika and Satoko are both aware of each other’s looping. They might switch it up so that they both end up teaming up to take down Featherine, but I kinda doubt that’ll happen.

I’m still hoping this is leading into some kind of new Umineko anime though, lol. That feels like it’d be the main reason for putting so much effort into this whole elaborate LambdaBern origin story we’re getting here.

I’ve heard rumors that there’s been listings for a 25th episode of Gou, so it’s possible that rather than another full season, there’s just one extra episode at the end. I’m not exactly sure what the point of doing one extra unannounced episode at the end would be, though. It might end up being a bridge between Gou and a new Umineko anime.

At the very least, if it’s just ‘Satokowashi Part 8′, it makes me wonder why they haven’t announced it yet, and why they didn’t just split that arc into two BD volumes with four episodes each, instead of having it be one big volume with seven episodes, and one random episode at the end for some reason. But if it’s more of an epilogue or a bridge of sorts between Gou and something else, with Gou’s story concluding with episode 24, then I guess it’d make some sense to do it that way.

We also know there’s gonna be a panel for Gou at a convention around when ep24 comes out, so if anything gets announced it’ll probably happen there.

Anyway, this whole episode can be summed up as “Satoko does a gay little psychological torture that pisses Rika off”, in the most morbidly entertaining way possible, lmao.

[polpoka]

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman, Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi  Jung Soo

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Kimrokberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 4

The symbol did indeed look like a small sun encompassed in a gigantic moon which made the sun pale in comparison, yet the pale yellow shade stood out more than that of the moon which made Kim Rok Soo’s eyes first fall on the sun. The moon on the other hand was as white as milk, with grey spots that resembled craters, or perhaps that’s what the splotches of orange juice gave an illusion of. The starry midnight sky that adorned the outer gap of the sun-filled moon occupied less space and created a small background that faded out, causing the entire mark to look like a cartoonish sketch of an eclipse. It had its own charm of homeliness and peace, yet it felt unnecessarily regal. It was as if his soulmate was once a king... Wait... didn't his neighbour—now soulmate, say that he had his name plastered on several...broadcasts. 

Kim Rok Soo took a moment to let the realization sink in, the same way the orange juice had seeped through the shirt. 

“Haaaaa…”

Kim Rok Soo sighed deeply. A famous person. That was something he’d never wanted to be, nor be with even in his wildest dreams, nor as an impossible to get Christmas present. Well, to be fair, he didn’t expect to have a soulmate in the first place, but look where that got him.

Even though many would assume otherwise, all he ever wanted was a slacker life, an early retirement, that’s all and nothing more. A tiny, and easily attainable dream. Being the soulmate of a rich person wouldn’t hamper his dream but it would put people’s unwelcome attention on him and that was an unnecessary trade off, especially when he could pave his own way to the desired slacker life.

He would rather go unnoticed than be put under the everlasting spotlight of fame. Money did interest him, however being well-known or being the latest hot topic did not. 

That was one of the reasons why he left Deruth and the entire Henituse estate without a fight. It wasn’t like there was any place for him there any way. He got his inheritance which he had in his savings just in case.

Thus he decided that he would just join his hyungs, though that had immediately backfired and he became one of the most famous musicians where everyone wanted him to play the instrument. 

Willingly choosing fame was inherently never part of his nature, he was more of a money oriented person. Yet his soulmate had to be really damn famous, huh.

How did he even get himself into this soulmate mess in the first place?

He always told himself to be as smart as a badger yet he overlooked such a crucial detail. Was it because the man had made him so relaxed that he had completely lost track of his words and was too focused on the sound of his low, gentle and overall lovely voice? 

It made sense, the man in question was his soulmate after all. It would only be natural for Kim Rok Soo to immediately drop his usually high guard down. 

He splashed more water on his face, deciding that he would think about this awkward and unpleasant situation as he was going home. He had a long drive to look forward to anyway. 

He trudged out of the bathroom, his eyes were bloodshot as the result of the orange juice getting in his eyelids and his jacket was neatly folded and tucked under his arm. He was greeted by an extremely dejected and worried man at the door. The man could also be called the one responsible for the sweet and sour liquid going in his eyes.

“Hyung?”

Lee Soo Hyuk turned to him. Kim Rok Soo could tell that the elder man was concerned. He walked in large strides and patted Kim Rok Soo’s body down, looking straight into Kim Rok Soo’s eyes, examining the damage he had done. He frowned, “Should I get you eyedrops?”

“Hmm? Is it really needed? It doesn’t hurt that much.” Kim Rok Soo asked, since his mind was preoccupied with the soul mark he wasn’t really paying attention to the throbbing pain in his eye.

“They might be infected,” said Lee Soo Hyuk while he was examining Kim Rok Soo’s eyes.

Kim Rok Soo realized there were streams of tears as a reaction to the citrus juice only after Lee Soo Hyuk pointed it out.

“It really got everywhere, huh?” Lee Soo Hyuk said, looking at the utterly soaked shirt and the removed jacket in Kim Rok Soo's hands.

He removed a handkerchief and wiped the streaming tears along with the dried ones from the younger man’s face. 

“It’s not that much, they’ll dry up soon enough.” Kim Rok Soo grumbled, only for the disagreement to be pushed aside, like all the other oppositions that had taken place that day.

Lee Soo Hyuk sighed, looking at the tear-stained face. Though it wouldn’t be proper to call them ‘tears’, it was more of a mere reflex, “My bad. I should’ve been less...startled when you told me that your neighbour was The Alberu Crossman of the Crossman family.” he looked at the blank faced man and tilted his head, “Do you know exactly how famous that family is?”

“No,” Kim Rok Soo said, definitely not revealing the fact that Alberu had told him that he was indeed a famous man, and the fact that his words had completely slipped Kim Rok Soo’s mind only because Kim Rok Soo was only paying attention at Alberu’s voice. Little did he know his vacant look was giving him away to the person he’d known for a long time.

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at the other, inspecting his dongsaeng’s reaction,

“Do you even watch the news anymore?”

Kim Rok Soo fell silent for a while,

“I stopped when they started showcasing me as one of the most popular men.” He felt a rough hand on his cheek which then gently tapped Kim Rok Soo there.

“You should really get over that,” Lee Soo Hyuk said as he wiped the other man’s face one last time. It was gentle despite the coarse hand. Kim Rok Soo knew that his hyung was genuinely trying to help him and nuzzled the hand in an unnoticeable fashion.  

“He’s the CEO of the Roan company.” Kim Rok Soo immediately remembered the Roan company. He had heard of it, “The Crossmans are the founders of one of the big corporations with several branches which are humongous even when counted on their own. Recently it was also branded as the longest lasting one.” Lee Soo Hyuk patted Kim Rok Soo’s cheek again and exaggeratedly sighed, “What are we going with you, Rok Soo-ya? You even forgot who runs the company your nephew currently has a branch in.”

Kim Rok Soo’s face turned stoic from the previously blank face at his hyung’s over-the-top reaction, “Henituses were known for their marble and wine branches. But I didn’t know that it was the Crossmans who were in charge. I just remember the Roan Conglomerate. It didn’t concern me after all.”

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at Kim Rok Soo’s now clean yet somewhat red face,

“Do you want to go home? I’ll be driving.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded, since he didn’t want to decline the offer, especially being drenched head to waist in orange juice.

Lee Soo Hyuk led him to their table, as they finally reached there lay a passed out Choi Jung Soo with the three empty glasses and Lee Soo Hyuk’s card accompanied by a paid check on the table. 

Lee Soo Hyuk looked at the younger man, and chuckled, “Look at this rascal.”

He draped Choi Jung Soo over his shoulder, turning to Kim Rok Soo before informing him, “Wait for me in the car. I'll just drag this guy over.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded and exited the restaurant and walked over to the parking lot, and gently slid into his car’s passenger seat since his hyung was driving. He reclined in his seat and shut his eyes, turning the faucet to his thoughts and letting them slowly drip which quickly escalated to a waterfall. He started to think about the entire soulmate thing. He knew very well that even though he had a soul mark, there weren't any requirements for him to date the person in question. He knew several people who had met their soulmate yet never crossed the line of friends. It was wholly possible that even if he didn't get together with Alberu right now, Alberu could find his own love somewhere else, and not with him, yet that thought pricked him. Kim Rok Soo also knew that if he did get with the man, everyone's attention would fall on him. On the other hand, there was also the fact that Alberu was completely his type, not to mention Alberu had a pleasing personality. Even though they were the same kind of people, Alberu somehow felt purer than himself. 

He remembered the panic attack he saw Alberu experience, just this morning. 

He remembered the younger man’s franticness. 

He remembered the other’s anxiousness.

He remembered the desperate way Alberu held onto his hand, as if Kim Rok Soo was his only grip on reality.

He remembered how Alberu’s dark eyebags that adorned his face always sunk deep into his cheeks, even though he had been asleep a minute before.

He remembered how fragile Alberu looked.

 He remembered how he quickly recovered, like he had been subjected to these sorts of attacks for ages. Even though Kim Rok Soo had experienced such attacks a couple of times himself, he could never get used to the feeling of fear overwhelming him like an overflowing cup.

Alberu looked like a broken mirror to him at the time. A broken mirror who no one wanted to spend their time on fixing. Alberu reminded Kim Rok Soo of himself, before he met his hyungs. 

But the brokenness of his soulmate was not the only thing Kim Rok Soo remembered about Alberu. 

He remembered how Alberu’s dark skin and hair shimmered under the moonlight, it was like the moon was calling its brethren. 

He remembered how cute Alberu looked when he was sleeping on that bench, so adorable Kim Rok Soo was tempted not to wake him up.

He remembered Alberu's embarrassed and red face when he decided to call after him that night.

He remembered the way Alberu’s hair wildly and freely flew open when he was on his balcony. It reminded him of a bird that had finally attained its freedom.

He remembered the sensual way the olive puffer jacket refused to slide down Alberu's arms. 

He remembered how inviting Alberu looked glistening with sweat, sitting on his sofa, wearing that pink turtleneck. 

He remembered Alberu's unending laugh at his short and ordinary words, at least that’s what Kim Rok Soo thought. 

He didn't understand why Alberu laughed, but he did remember the sound. It was like a pleasant tune that played on his mind as he sat in the car.

He remembered the relaxingly cool touch of Alberu’s calloused fingertips. 

He remembered everything about this man. 

This astoundingly alluring neighbour of his. It was as if Alberu drew Kim Rok Soo towards himself, like a craftsman would be drawn to the right materials. If Alberu was a cracked mirror then Kim Rok Soo would be more than glad to collect the broken shards and create a mosaic that would resemble a stained glass painting. 

At that moment Kim Rok Soo knew that he was captivated by this man. Honestly, who wouldn’t, it was a terribly attractive offer. To be the significant other of this wonderful person would be an honor. Though a nagging thought pulled at his mind. Would his affection be-  

“-Rok Soo-ya? Are you there?”

Kim Rok Soo’s eyes flew open in surprise. He had fallen too deep into his thoughts, not realizing that the car’s door had opened and closed twice already. He could also see Lee Soo Hyuk’s face painted with a cheeky grin.

“Hyung.” Kim Rok Soo said, rubbing his eyes trying to fall out of the daze .

Lee Soo Hyuk knew that this was an unusual occurrence since Kim Rok Soo wasn’t the type that used to take this much time to respond to his call. Especially since he was alone. Lee Soo Hyuk also knew what Kim Rok Soo would most probably be thinking about right now. He himself had noticed the soul mark but didn’t say a word as he was too busy taking care of his dongsaeng's tears. 

“Are you thinking about your dark skinned neighbour and-” he glanced at the now dried and translucent shirt before he continued, “possible soulmate?”

Kim Rok Soo, still in a muddled state, managed to let the words come out of his mouth, without any filter before promptly catching himself, “Ye- I mean no.”

This mixed reaction made Lee Soo Hyuk chuckle. He hadn’t seen such a slip in ages, especially when it came to matters relating to love. 'It was only a couple of years ago he decided to leave the estate.’ Lee Soo Hyuk sniffled, ‘They grow up so fast.’ He swerved into Kim Rok Soo, giving the younger man a hug and dramatically cried, “You grew up too soooonnnn. Three years ago you didn’t even think you’d ever have a lover, and now you have a soulmate. I’m so prouddddd of youuu,” whilst Kim Rok Soo sat in the passenger seat, stiff at the sudden wave of affection he was receiving, but of course he reciprocated it by letting his free arms gently wrap themselves around his hyung’s back. Kim Rok Soo gently nuzzled Lee Soo Hyuk’s neck. 

He loved Lee Soo Hyuk. His eldest brother, his respectable mentor who had taught him how to play, his elder brother figure, ever since he was young, his only escape from that excruciatingly stuffy residence. He was someone he knew he could confide in, one of the few people he held the closest to his heart. That was a fact.

Lee Soo Hyuk was a respected person, no matter how you thought about it, wherever you go in the opera world,  you would have to hear his name being mentioned whether you liked it or not. He was a famous conductor whose name echoed through the entire opera world with admiration and jealousy.

When Lee Soo Hyuk let Kim Rok Soo go, Kim Rok Soo was sure he could tell Lee Soo Hyuk about the soulmate situation, not that Lee Soo Hyuk didn’t know what Kim Rok Soo was thinking. They knew each other for a long time and naturally had gotten so close to each other that they pretty much guess what the other was thinking. 

Lee Soo Hyuk could clearly remember the first time he saw that small ball that he could tell was filled with gloom sitting in the corner of a classroom. Lee Soo Hyuk remembered passing the middle school class while he was a highschool student by the hallway before that ball of gloom caught his eye. The child was thin as if he hadn’t been fed in days. Lee Soo Hyuk also remembered pulling that tiny hand out of that corner desk and asking whether the boy wanted to eat along with him. And when the other accepted, he remembered the way the boy’s stoic face that was barely ticking out of his arms had changed itself to a more startled expression, that was before it changed back to a less animated one.

He remembered how their seemingly small friendship had continued until his college years where Kim Rok Soo had met Choi Jung Soo. Choi Jung Soo, Kim Rok Soo and him got along well enough. He also remembered how Kim Rok Soo’s eyes shone when he saw the saxophone play in a school band for the first time. Even though Kim Rok Soo would never say it out loud, Lee Soo Hyuk knew that his dongsaeng loved the instrument. The same went for Choi Jung Soo, excluding the fact that Choi Jung Soo was more vocal about his love for the flute. Lee Soo Hyuk too loved conducting operas, even more so when he saw his dongsaengs playing every single time. They were his motivation and his younger brothers that he cherished more than anything in the world. He couldn't believe his ears when he found out that one of them, especially the more antisocial one had found someone. Of course, he didn’t think it was a bad attribute of Kim Rok Soo’s to be antisocial but he was overjoyed that someone as humble and emotionally choked up as Kim Rok Soo had got someone who could love him just the way he was. “Hyung,” Kim Rok Soo said as his arms were wrapped around the other.

“Hmm?” mused a happy Lee Soo Hyuk, finally letting go of Kim Rok Soo.

“I need to tell you something.” Kim Rok Soo’s hands slipped down the man’s back as the man shuffled to return back to his seat. 

“I’m listening,” he muttered, trying to make himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.

Kim Rok Soo knew that Lee Soo Hyuk was indeed paying attention to his words, even though he wasn’t looking at Kim Rok Soo, and so continued speaking, “So, I think you may have already figured it out but I have a soulmate.”

“Mhmmm,” the other hummed, finally sitting without moving around.

“He’s my neighbour, Alberu Crossman.” Kim Rok Soo’s voice was calm, as if he had already understood what was going to happen.

“Figured as much.” Lee Soo Hyuk remarked. He had known ever since Kim Rok Soo told him that his neighbour was Alberu. 

He was surprised, to say the least but he still knew that Kim Rok Soo was not done with the even more eye opening comments on his situation.

“I also need your opinion on something.” Kim Rok Soo said as he seat belted himself.

“Go ahead.” Lee Soo Hyuk said as he started the car. 

Choi Jung Soo had already been strapped in so there was no problem if Lee Soo Hyuk took him to his house.

“Should I date him even though he’s famous?”

Somehow Lee Soo Hyuk wasn’t surprised at his words even for a bit. “Does his fame really matter?”

Kim Rok Soo deadpanned but Lee Soo Hyuk could see his eyes sparkle, “My slacker life takes the first place in life.”

Even if Kim Rok Soo said that, Lee Soo Hyuk knew that the words were superficial, since many a times Kim Rok Soo was prone to choosing the opposite nevertheless, Kim Rok Soo was a contrary man, but a man that kept his promises. That in itself was contrary.

“Wouldn’t a famous person as a lover have higher chances of leading a successful slacker life?”

Kim Rok Soo looked out of the window and spoke, “I would be put under the public eye, and it would be far worse than it is now.”

Lee Soo Hyuk knew the reason why Kim Rok Soo disliked being the centre of attention. He’d been to the Henituse residence a couple of times. And one thing that had struck him so hard that could remember was Deruth’s picturesque display of hospitality. For some petty reasons, some going along the lines of jealousy and disgust of the limelight placed on Kim Rok Soo, the reason for that was the fact that Kim Rok Soo was delicate and the youngest, not to mention, the adopted one and the one who was chosen. 

Lee Soo Hyuk also remembered how the younger brother, who had just been adopted and was clueless about the house’s atmosphere, was admonished and humiliated several times, sometimes even appearing bruised. He remembered seeing Kim Rok Soo’s eyes grow dim whenever he talked to the elder sibling, or even made eye contact with the elder. 

Their age gap was large, spanning about over 10 years, yet it had always surprised Lee Soo Hyuk how Deruth acted. He acted in such petty jealousy of the attention Kim Rok Soo received from their father, he left Kim Rok Soo utterly  traumatized of ever receiving things, so traumatized that he left the house and thought that he was the one at fault, that he was the one who was intruding, that he was better off with receiving an allowance every year without returning to the place of his birth, well not that Kim Rok Soo would want to. The allowance was large, as if it was consolation money. Maybe it was.

Lee Soo Hyuk wasn’t sure but he thought that was why Kim Rok Soo was so obsessed with his early retirement to be peaceful and mainly, not attract any attention. Perhaps, it was because of the years he had spent in that hellhole. 

Lee Soo Hyuk knew Deruth, not that well, but well enough to decide that he didn't like the child’s personality, despite it becoming a little more amiable when he had married his first wife. Only when his first child was born did Kim Rok Soo decide that he wanted to accept the long time invitation of reestablishing contact. It was not much so of regaining contact than it was not wanting his nephew to go through the same things he did, not that he would admit it.

Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo shared some things in common one of them being their extreme dislike towards Deruth, not his children of course, those little rascals were adorable. Lee So Hyuk still remembers the day when Kim Rok Soo had volunteered to babysit the two sons; Basen and Cale.The reason being the fact that  Violan, Deruth’s second wife, went on a vacation to get herself some rest for her upcoming pregnancy, along with her husband, of course. Basen was eight and Cale was eleven. Cale was rather annoyed all the time, until Kim Rok Soo gave him a lollipop, after that his face lit up like a firework on a starry night. Lee Soo Hyuk remembered the small pale child, with flushed cheeks sitting only next to Kim Rok Soo. Cale said that it was because Kim Rok Soo had the lollipops, which he absolutely loved, but everyone knew that wasn’t the case. 

Basen liked Kim Rok Soo because the elder man fascinated him, and he liked the way he played the saxophone. He had all these memories stored in his brain solely because these were joyful instances, some that continued even today. Even when the small Cale had grown up to be a splendid twenty five year old, even when the curious Basen seemed to have matured into a calm adult, they both seemed to revert back to the way they were when they were kids in front of Kim Rok Soo. It was also known how overprotective Kim Rok Soo was of the duo, which then evolved into a trio as Lily was born.

Lee Soo Hyuk was genuinely glad that his dongsaeng had gotten a soulmate, albeit unexpected who the soulmate was, it was good to have his thoughts take form in reality and that someone other than people close to Kim Rok Soo, who all had their own partners to worry about, had dug deep enough to find that the stoic man made a splendid companion. 

Even though it didn’t take that much time for Alberu to crack this seemingly tough nut.  

“So,” Lee Soo Hyuk asked, “Are you going to ask him out on a date?”

Kim Rok Soo looked out of the side view mirror for a second before answering,

“Yes.”

**

Alberu returned to his seat on the couch, after feeding the two cats and washing the cup, still dazed and trying to register what he just saw. 

‘That- that was a soulmark, right? Really? I’m not that sleep deprived, am I?’ He raised his sweater once more to see the mark.

‘So it wasn’t a hallucination.’ 

He sighed in defeat, until he felt a small head purring under his hand, which made his downcast gaze shift and meet the grey cat’s gleaming yellow eyes, “Hmmm?” he hummed in confusion.

The grey cat’s beady eyes seemed to twist into a more annoyed way each time Alberu saw them, or perhaps that was just his imagination.

Alberu leaned over his shoulder, “What should I do about this now?”

‘I do like the idea. Should I just see how it goes before jumping to any more conclusions.’

“What the hell should I do-”

His lamenting was cut off by the shrill sound of the doorbell, which made him scramble to his feet, leaving the two cats startled at this unexpected noise.

When Alberu opened the door, he was finally greeted by the long awaited and familiar face of his college friend and secretary. Alberu looked at the other with a half irritated expression, “You really took your time, huh?”

The taller man, tanned and adorned with two small black stars under his eyes, had a look of nonchalance, his short sun-kissed hair with beach wave nature bobbing gently alongside the wind.

He spoke with little or no care of the standing between the two individuals, despite the other being the superior, with an audible british accent.

“Sir, I was called by Mistress Angelina and Sir Choi Jung Gun for tea a while before you called me to retrieve your keys, which I presumed was an easy thing to not forget, but I suppose even the greatest minds can slip up-”

He was cut off with an annoyed shush by the other, “Could you please stop with the unpleasant pleasantries of yours.”

Taerang took a pause, before scanning the younger man, “How did you manage to get so wet?”

Alberu sighed, “It’s a long story.” 

He heard a small mew near his leg, which prompted him to look down to see the red cat rubbing itself on his ankle. Alberu looked back at Taerang, motioning that they should move locations, preferably to his home, in response to which Taerang simply nodded.

After a sorrowful parting with the cats, Alberu shut Kim Rok Soo’s door and turned to look at Taerang who looked a bit surprised. 

“What’s wrong?” Alberu asked, walking through the hallway.

Taerang’s head slightly tilted, walking at an equal pace, “You’re quite close to your neighbor. Did you already tell him who you are?” 

Alberu flinched, “Not at all.”

Alberu flinching would normally not be noticeable to other people, but Taerang knew Alberu, so he could easily see through him. “Really? I’ll have to report to Miss Tasha either way. You do remember the repercussions of disclosing your identity, right?”

Alberu was silent until they reached his house, “We’ve reached. Let’s talk here.”

**

When Kim Rok Soo returned, he saw his hall exactly how he had left it. He felt the two cats mewling at his feet. He picked the red one up and sat down on the sofa, the other following him and laying herself on his lap.

The rest of Kim Rok Soo’s day was uneventful, except the fact of him planning the confession before he slept. He decided to talk with the other person for a while, and see whether the other thought the same. Going slow would be the best for now, he thought, turning to his side.

But you know life had always been cruel to him, always raising his expectations, only to let him see them come crashing down like a child’s sandcastle built too close to the sea. Again, and again, without any pause. This time was no different.

The next evening  Kim Rok Soo decided to visit Alberu, he wasn’t greeted with the annoyed expression he’d expect from the darker man, instead, he was greeted by a paper stuck on the door that read in big font, 

‘Now on sale! Buy a new flat-’ 

Kim Rok Soo didn’t bother reading the rest. He was too shocked to comprehend the words plastered on the face of the flyer.

[stopeatingwhales]

mirage x john taylor

i wrote this a while ago, but for some reason i didn't post it lmao, its one of my favourite things that i've ever written, so i really hoep you enjoy it! also john taylor omfgggjja

Pairing: 82! john taylor x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.602

༉‧₊˚✧

Admiring the earth in the early hours of dawn was as if an angel had blessed you with the first sightings of heaven. It’s a glimpse of life at its true peak, demonstrating the true meaning of what living is and what it should be: beauty at its finest resort. At this hour, you’re able to catch the sight of earth in total fragility, a mere ghost-town without a soul in sight. There was little to no irritations echoing out of any residences aligned by the coast (as there usually would be until 4 in the morning), just the mere accompaniment of the exuberant sounds of eloquent waves, crashing aimlessly into the golden landscape of the beach. There was also an occasional chirp of the cicadas scattered around the atmosphere, putting my mind at ease as though I wasn’t the only person on earth awake at this celestial hour. I constantly cherished moments like these; they were, surprisingly, the only times I was able to simply breathe. No distractions, no one coming up to me questioning whether I was going to go to the amazing-party-down-town that everyone is somehow going to, it was just me. Life plays by so quickly, people seem to forget the beauty in which is constantly surrounding them. A party doesn't mean anything, a one-night-stand doesn’t mean much but a potential orgasm. This, however, being alone, admiring the world in all its might and eccentricity, produces a euphoria not even drugs can obtain a level to. This place undeniably fixated a meandering caprice on me — like a blanket of unknown being poured on each side of my body, indulging me with a time of self-discovery and meaning. There were constant thoughts echoing through my mind frivolously, so loud and so ripe, but quiet, dimmed, as if they were too loud for me to even muster, resulting in a forceful crumble of a delighted whisper. As I gazed at the land that lay ahead of me, I examined every little detail that I could set my eyes upon. Palm trees danced with the wind, cavorting in their own, personal fantasies as if they each occupied an individual mind. Their movements were graceful, almost completely orchestrated, yet sloppy, like a drunken collapse of a newly-wedded couple in the centre of the dancefloor of their service they’ve jointly paid life savings on, a moment so inebriated in love, adoration, and commitment. I envied their joy, their casual sways, their attempted defiance against the power of nature, for they probably felt contentment every single day of their existence by such an uncanny resort.

As my eyes began to slowly trail off the dazzling trees, I looked up to gawk at the alluring illustrations painted on the ceiling of the nirvana that rested forth from me. There was not a single whiff of cloud in sight, the atmosphere simply pencilling an array of warm shades, ranging from the deep, murderous blood oranges, to royal delicacies of periwinkle. The view was unfathomable. As the waves began to pick up, I felt the light gusts of wind that accompanied me previously begin to cement. The air calloused my hair, marvelling in the deeply coated locks, attempting to carry them to its next destination. It almost felt the same way as someone brushing their fingers through my roots, all the way down to the aged, lifeless tips. I felt my skin begin to draw goosebumps, an indication that it was time for me to head inside. However, I wanted to occupy the time I had. I didn’t mind painfully tormenting my body when coming into contact with such a meandering view. I was holding a moment, capturing a memory, taking panoramic snaps to engrave in my mind because I was fully aware that this would be the only chance of true life I’d have. I compelled my body to stay put, even though I was practically ice, forcing my eyes continuing their glimmer at the picturesque skies — I simply was unable to get enough of it all. Every few minutes, just when I was feeling my eyes get heavy and my eyebags pull at my face, I’d notice a new, fresh colour contrast in the empyrean, my eyes widening at the serendipity that had laid out, once again. Simply inhaling the sweet taste of purified air and having my eyes fixate on such pictorial demises, was causing me to lose my grip with reality. The oxygen, the sunlight, the entire concept of life, is all somehow always so much more tranquil yet augmented when you’re situated by the coastline.

After what felt like a million years and a million different shades of colours verging from reds, to yellows, to blues, I felt two arms slowly slider around my shoulders. Snapping me out of my trance, I felt my heart skip a beat, until I came to the rational realisation that it was him.Turning my head, I instantly came into contact with the face of a tired, smiley John, tailgated by a whiff of messy hair sloppily covering his forehead. I attempted to hold back my smile by forcing my teeth on my bottom lip, yet I was seemingly unsuccessful. Our faces were merely centimetres apart, our noses very nearly brushing against one anothers, though it felt like they already were. My eyes, which were once so focused and enthralled by the view above, were trapped in the stare that was reciprocated by the man whose arms were adorned by my torso at this moment. I studied his features intently for the short period of time our stare was consumed in, analyzing anything and everything I could identify — his perfectly shaped nose, so accurately proportionalized in all areas; his thin, flawlessly drawn eyebrows — eyebrows women would pay so much for to get done; his pink, puffy, paradisiacal lips, lips you would seemingly never get enough of; and not to forget his seraphical eyes, eyes that would draw you in instantaneously, eyes that would pierce daggers to your soul and make it ache in rapture. Whenever he would stare at me, I felt intimidated by the adoration that seeped out of his beautifully drawn pupils. His eyes were a visage to his soul, his emotions; it wasn’t hard to determine his feelings when coming into contact with his gaze. His face was a dream to look at, and sometimes I felt that he wasn’t real, just a conjured up scenario I’ve placed myself into, a product of my own fantasy, the looks in which he conveyed of pure gorgeousness and idyllicism seemed like they were sculpted in the garden of Eden. He seemed like he came from the garden of Eden. “Good morning,” he chirped, the gravelly sound exhibited from his larynx was yet to fade off, proof that he hadn’t been up for that long. “Why’re you out here?”

Beaming at him, I turned my head to watch the ardent waves repetitively douse themselves onto the soft ground. No matter how many times I watched it, the same feeling of relaxation and relief released itself from my veins as I had felt the very first time I held my admiration towards it. Sighing, I felt I was silenced by the grace of the water, grabbing onto one of John’s hands as a form of support to allow me to speak. “It’s so pretty out here, can’t you see?” I answered lightly with all the courage I was able to muster, feeling a sudden throb disperse itself in my heart. My eyes gazing at the view forth caused a feeling of not only elementary joy, which made me feel like a child again, but heavy nostalgia and emptiness, the type of emotion that washes over you when you’re reminiscing over memories shared with your lost ones — your facial expressions show you smiling sweetly, but inside your body is crumbling. It’s bittersweet. Clutching onto his hand made me feel secure, content, wanting to cherish this moment and hold it accountable for all its might, though I felt like a creep trying to explain myself to John. These thoughts, these emotions I cohered in my mind made me feel like I was a complete lunatic, that I was looking too in-between-the-lines, too in-depth. I couldn’t help it though, it came naturally, like how overthinking possesses one’s brain in the most cruel and unpleasant mannerisms.

I heard a small hum rumble out of John’s throat. Moving to sit beside me, I felt his arms detach themselves slowly, the slowness of his movements almost indicated that he didn’t want to move, though he was moving closer to me. I was sitting on the wooden bench situated in the centre of the medium-sized patio, and as time passed on, it began to get lonely with it just being me and the coastline. However, once he sat the closest he could without practically throwing himself on me, I felt full again. No matter what happened, no matter what I thought or felt, having him beside me as our bodies were enveloped in a cordial embrace made me realise that it’s not just the admiration of the place that put me in such a beautified mood, seeing the trueness in all that surrounded me, but it’s also the people I surround myself, my days, my life with. And I’m sure by now, by feeling this exact same feeling with John, I know I would adore spending the rest of my life with him.

“How are you?” I attempted to change the subject, turning my head to admire the side of his genial face. His right arm was now stretched out, resting on my shoulders whilst his free hand began lightly gripping the bone of my shoulder in an attempt to cold onto me, as if I was going to vanish and flutter off into the abyss of the crystal blue ocean, as if the grip I enamoured his palm in wasn’t enough. His head immediately swung to gaze at me as soon as I spoke. A small smile formed on his face, almost exact to the little smile he threw at me when he first came up to me a couple of minutes ago, portraying his deprived self. My heart felt warm staring back at John’s eyes, the simple doing birthing millions of butterflies in my stomach, though it was contrasted against an emotion of complete elation and bliss in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile back at him as he abruptly cleared his throat before speaking, the intimidation and nervousness pooled in my body now taken off guard from trying to murder my insides.

“I’m decent,” he mumbled, his fingers now relaxing on my flesh as he softly drew patterns on my shoulder. The childlike action was seemingly able to captivate my stomach with butterflies once again, a small beam creeping on my face as I felt a blush creep on my cheeks. I avoided looking at him, though I knew he knew exactly what he was doing to me; he always did. He knew me exactly like the back of his hand, hell, even better than that. “What time did you get up?”

A small laugh rang through my throat before I spoke. It almost came across as me mimicking his own throat soundings, though I wasn’t. “At the crack of dawn, my dear,” I smiled at him, my body lacking resistance to not lock eyes with the boy situated next to me any longer. His stare was infatuating, his deep, brown, ethereal orbs that somehow brought the light I never knew I needed in my life, were like the angels granting you blessings through the stairway to heaven. “You know me, I’ve always been like this.”

The everlasting stare that fell onto my face from his eyes felt like my pores being deep fried by the sun. A small smile insinuated itself onto his dishevelled face, a diligent one. “That is in fact true,” he began, moving his stare into the glamorous empyrean that laid forth the pair of us. He took my hand, the frost that formed on the outlines of my skin sending feelings of shock to my nerves as the warmth of his palm enraptured itself with mine. “I simply wonder how you do it.”

After those words easily fell from his lips, I turned my head to look at him — specifically his side profile — as he enamoured himself in the transience of the colours. I spent a few moments — moments not too long, yet not too short to make the dissonance of time to deplete — to take in the scenario playing out currently. “If I were to tell you how, I would be defying my own self.”

He turned to me, curious and confused, pulling away from our shared embrace lightly to look me deeply in the eyes. “Reiterate?”

A short laugh escaped my body at his sudden reaction. We shared a moment of complete silence, a build-up to the words that I found myself beginning to slide off my tongue. A short intake of crisp oxygen and I was off, speaking my mind out of earnest discernment. “By telling you how I do such things, it almost exposes the wirings of my mind, what makes me who I am. And perhaps it’s a self-indulged fear, like everything comes to be, of revealing too much of myself that makes me think like this, but it is always the element of mystery that draws those who are curious towards that void that is unknown, hoping they find out enough that dishevels that scarcely pit of wonder,” I began, us now sharing an intense stare with one another, the earth completely silent, as if it were listening to every word that left my lips. “Or maybe that is just my secret attempt of keeping you with me for much longer than this sunrise can elongate.” I finished, attempting to brighten the atmosphere from my mind’s most destructive and aimless thoughts.

It is true bravery, to speak your mind, more so it is to reveal your true identity, and to be able to do that, dictates the idea that the fear of living is nothing but the mind’s own manacles. We kept soft, meaningful smiles on our faces as our eyes melted together. The little grimace grew all the more wider after my little try for a joke played through. “We are who we are, having secretly decided who we’d like to be, no?” He asked, his head cocked to the side, almost mocking my words previously.

It’s an unexplainable feeling, love. It disregards all aspects of morality, for you find yourself in a want, a greed to present yourself to them in ways unexplainable. There isn’t much you can do, that is. Either let the fire in your heart, pumping twice the amount of usual speed it would do per minute, simply fade out into an abyss of your recall, or contain its cancerous feelings, for all you muster your ability to do is fall more and more in love with them each day. As cancerous as it is however, you willingly choose to delve yourself deeper, until you manage to get injured horribly, or sometimes you come to a simple jurisdiction that the water is too sour for you to swallow. My smile grew wider at the quote that rolled off so delicately off his tongue, a feeling of euphoria that clashed in unison with the tide poured over my body from head to toe. “Yes, exactly that, my love.”