#INSANE THAT HE DID IT BECAUSE HE THOUGHT SHE WAS EASY FOR KISSING A BLACK GUY

[jerseymuppet]

kissin kate barlow has the best villain origin story ever put to paper. if i fell in love with a sweet man who just wanted to sell onions and show of his sick carpentry skills and they killed him for being black i think i would also snap and kill everyone involved in the most ironic way possible.

[cowgurrrl]

Keep the Wolves Away

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.

Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]

Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses

"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her. 

"It's not a date!"

"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"

"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her. 

"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."

"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love." 

"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"

"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."

"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out. 

"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours. 

For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints. 

So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive. 

"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."

"I know." 

"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."

"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything. 

"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute." 

"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler. 

"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."

"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall. 

"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face. 

"Wow… you look-"

"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room. 

"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful." 

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself." 

"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird." 

"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself. 

"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place." 

"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass. 

"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."

"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable." 

"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.

"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track. 

You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.

The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this. 

You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his. 

"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up. 

"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"

"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college." 

"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look. 

"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything." 

"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."

"But you drove all the way here."

"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.

"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"

"Just my pretty girls." 

"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly. 

"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'." 

Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety. 

"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles. 

"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"

"I think… I just need you to be there with me." 

"Then, that's what I'll do." 

"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you. 

"Okay." He says.

"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in. 

The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one. 

"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him. 

"Us?"

"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?" 

"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"

"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down. 

"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery. 

A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting. 

Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art. 

"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.

"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."

"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.

"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck. 

"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen. 

"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"

"Yeah, but I want you to." 

"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting. 

"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness. 

"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year. 

"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.

"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?" 

"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."

"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."

"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"

"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.

"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says. 

"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods. 

"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him. 

"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think. 

"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd. 

"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh. 

"He is." 

"How'd you two meet?"

"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.

"Ah," he says. "That's nice."

"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.

"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone." 

"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."

"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.

"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"

"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.

"I thought I did in the email." 

"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."

"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."

"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years." 

"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands. 

"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."

You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters. 

You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you. 

"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.

"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"

You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you." 

"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault." 

"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process. 

"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."

"But I-"

"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Fuck everything else." You agree. 

"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.

"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."

"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.

You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours. 

"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.

"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks." 

Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.

This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick. 

But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 6: Pepperdine

Note: Okay...this one is long as hell, so sorry in advance! Thank you for all of the love, notes, comments, rebloggs! They are really inspiring and it's great to interact with you all. Some people have made me aware of things that I can do to make this easier to find, so I will sit down and apply those changes later today. I hope you all enjoy this one, and alsooo my best friend just started reading this story so if you're reading this hey boo! Thank you all for reading and reminder...all of the characters are pieces of shit in their own way...as it is in the movie. Alright! Enjoy <3

Warnings: Cheating (back to sorta), mild sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), some strong language, mention of injury.

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

She feels like she’s going insane. For what it’s worth, Heaven did not get a single ounce of sleep after she did what she did. Her lip curls as she looks down at Art, his arm tossed over her lap, his large hand spread over her bare thigh, the heat of it a reminder of her…predicament. 

I love you.

She winces as she envisions the moment again, hears Art’s voice and pictures Patricks face, Tashi’s face if they knew, jesus. Heaven bites at her thumb nail nervously, staring off at the mostly bare wall in Art’s dark room. “Fuck.” she mumbles to herself, picturing Art kissing her, touching her, on top of her, between her legs- “Fuck” 

Art’s hand tightens on her leg and she shifts her gaze down to him. He’s in the same position that they’d laid in when they’d gone to bed. His eyes are closed, she can see his lashes against his cheek. It’s annoying and unfair, men always have the best eyelashes. Art’s are a brown color, not quite dark brown or black, not quite blonde. She likes looking at his eyelashes, but she does wish that she could see his eyes.

It would distract her. From the tightness in her chest that had her wrenching his thin twin XL blanket off of them both because she was pretty sure the fabric was trying to smother her, earning a groan from Art as she slipped from under his grasp and sat up with her back against the cool painted cement walls of his dorms. 

Heaven takes a deep breath trying to get rid of the squeezing feeling in her chest without waking the blond man half draped over her lap. Clenching her teeth she rolls her eyes upward  to look at the ceiling as she wills her thoughts to slow the fuck down. 

I love you. 

She didn’t say anything. He said he loved her and she said nothing. Jesus, she is just like Tashi. As much as she loves her, the thought is scary. But what’s even scarier is that she almost wasn’t. She almost wasn’t Tashi. When Art looked at her and said what he said her mouth fell open, and she almost said the thing. She almost…she almost said what he said.

I love you.

“Fuck you.” she whispers, gaze dropping back down to the man below her. A careful manicured hand sweeps over the pale skin on his cheek, sliding along his jaw before a traveling finger smoothes over his nose. She giggles breathlessly as his nose wrinkles and his arm tightens around her legs. Heaven smoothes back the messy blond hair that had fallen on Art’s forehead as he slept, smiling to herself as he hums in his sleep, leaning into her hand.

I love you.

Heaven’s brows furrow as she suddenly feels very naked and very self conscious. She yanks her hand away from him, careful not to disrupt his sleep as she tries to lift his arm off of her. She barely has both feet on the cold, white dorm room floors before the arm is around her waist.

“Where’re you goin’?”

His voice is raspier in the morning. Heaven feels herself melting at the feel of a thumb smoothing over her stomach, rubbing circles over the baggy shirt she’d borrowed from him. Stolen? She has absolutely no intention of giving it back. 

She almost gets back into bed. It would be so easy. Sliding into his arms, feeling him burrow his face in her neck, kissing her as she’s lulled back to sleep. Just one leg up, and then the other. It could be good. It could be great.

But then her eye catches on a framed picture on his desk. It’s one she’d known he’d have, but didn’t think he’d have so readily on display. Patrick was very open with discussing his affection for Art. He has no problem kissing his friend on the cheek or forehead. Talking about how they’ve pushed their beds together since their second year of being roommates, always opting to sleep next to one another in their one, big ‘super bed’ as he’d called it. 

Art was subtle. He might share some food or toss an arm over Patrick’s shoulder. Turning red and furrowing his eyebrows when Patricks would lean into any insinuation about the two of them. But he loves his friend. It’s clear, it's obvious. And Tashi’s a homewrecker for messing with them.

And so am I. Heaven eyes the picture of Art and Patrick. Bright smiles on their faces, kissing their trophies while cheersing each other. This is too much. It’s all too much. Between Patrick and Tashi and now these feelings for Art…Art’s feelings for her- Heaven needs out. 

This toxic jumble is not her idea of fun. 

Her decision made, Heaven takes one more deep breath. She steels herself, and decides she’s doing what’s best. Snatching her bag and jeans off of the floor where she’d let Art tug them off the night before she rushes out of the dimly lit room as the sun starts to rise through the cheap, white shutter blinds. And she only lets herself look back once.

Thirty minutes. Art lays in his bed with his eyes squeezed shut hoping he dreamt it. He was praying to himself that he felt the cold morning air on his chest because he was having some kind of bad dream, not because Heaven had snuck out of his bed without saying goodbye all to probably go running back to Tashi and go back to pretending there wasn’t anything between them. The longer his eyes were closed, the longer he could pretend he still felt her soft fingers ghosting across his face. He could pretend that she was his.

He had to be fair, he asked her to pretend for the night, he never said anything about the next morning. 

Sighing deeply, he opens his eyes, staring up at his ceiling he frowns, forced to be faced with reality and the hand he’s been dealt. All he had really accomplished was planting seeds of confusion in the girl’s head, they were far from the point where she was ready to leave her relationship for him. She still has feelings for Tashi, and what’s worse, Patrick. 

Art loves his friend, he really does, but he knows him very well. He’s watched the guy go through puberty, learn that he’s got a sleazy type of swagger a lot of girls find attractive. He’d been there for Patrick’s first date with Lana Powel and his second the same week with Angie Cooper. Art had watched Patrick run through women like water, down to his last girlfriend who he had just started dating when he met Tashi and Heaven. Poor girl couldn’t compete with the hot Princess of Tennis and the sexy Ballerina two for one special being dangled in Patrick’s face and was therefore left high and dry with a simple breakup text. It’s not working. You were great.

Yeah. Forgive him if he doesn’t exactly think his friend is all that deserving of the masterpieces that are Heaven Whitlock and Tashi Duncan. 

And Art doesn’t pretend he’s a saint. Like Patrick has said, he does…well for himself in the women department and has since he hit a cute little growth spurt back in the 8th grade. But he has the common decency to make his feelings for the girls he would see clear. If they were his girlfriend, they knew it, he would treat them like a girlfriend. If they were a fling, he would acknowledge that they were just having fun. It ends with him getting a lot less drinks tossed in his face than his friend does.

See, Art is smart. He knows how to compartmentalize. Random girls who throw themselves at him after tennis matches go in one category, nice girls he meets in class go in another. 

Heaven and Tashi are in a league of their own.

Tashi is awe inspiring. Beautiful, talented, smart. Scary.

Heaven was scary in a different way. Scary like, the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Scary like he was desperate to do anything and everything to make her happy, including play along in this little push and pull game she’d tossed them into. Scary in a way that despite the fact that she creeped out of his bed at the crack of dawn, cowering away from the feelings he has with her tail between her legs, he still pushes his nose into the pillow she’d laid her head on the night before, trying to take in the last of her scent before it fades into the morning air. 

Dragging his way out of bed and away from what he has left of Heaven, he makes his way to the bathroom and forces himself to face the day.

Match point. Tashi thinks to herself, whistling out the extra hair in her lungs as she regulates her breathing, bouncing from foot to foot as she finishes out her final scrimmage against her teammate before her match with Pepperdine.

Her brain is nearly empty, the only thing swirling within her thoughts is following the ball, the only sound in her ears is her own breathing and the sound of her opponent’s sneakers scraping against the court. There’s no one in the world other than her and the girl across the net. 

With a final swing she sends the ball sailing over the net, down the line where the girl is just not quick enough to reach and with that Tashi had one. It was over. Tashi always gets this brief, melancholy feeling when she finishes a match, or even something as small as a scrimmage. The high she gets from playing simmers down into a dullness that makes her miss the version of herself she was just moments before, when the match was still going. 

That numb thrumb of disappointment under her skin usually dies out as she reminds herself that there will be more. More game to play. More time on the court. More of a tennis player she can be. 

What can she say? Tennis makes her feel greedy. It was never enough. The only thing that ever brought her a similar high was being with Heaven. And while she meant being with Heaven, she also just meant…being with Heaven.

The two of them have been together in every capacity that matters. Friends, best friends, friends with benefits, girlfriends, exes, partners. The only title she would never give Heaven is her rival. They have too much history for that.

Tashi feels the sensation of a toe pushing insistently at her side, digging into her ribs as she tries to focus on the sound of Aaliyah singing in her ears. “Stop it.” She says lowly.

“‘M’trying to show you something, just look for a second-” her little brother Ellis whines, tugging at his seatbelt to get more wiggle room, nudging the girl again with a snicker when she swats his foot away. “Tashi, play with me-”

“Jesus, can I have one fucking second-”

“Tashi Sierra Duncan!” 

The voice is sharp and unforgiving. Her mother’s tone leaves no room for nonsense as she whips around to stare her down, her father’s own gaze in the rearview mirror. Ellis is suddenly quiet, wide eyes watery as he looks at her from his seat causing a pang of guilt to form in her chest. 

Great. Now she’s the bad guy. 

Big bad Tashi. Taking her parent’s attention away from her siblings, needing to travel for tennis, being too tired to play all the damn time. Between struggling in school, watching her five younger siblings and helping her parents pay the bills with what she won at challengers and bigger competitions, somehow, she forgot to force herself to have the personality of a disney princess. 

Sue her, she wants to focus before her match. God forbid she wants to be at her best when there’s a fucking Nike rep watching her, a detail about today that her father had only mentioned 500 times, mentioning what a great fucking opportunity it was. 

Maybe she was the bitch who couldn’t take the time to glance over at her 8 year-old brother’s gameboy as he won the same game over and over again. But she was also the bitch who was working her ass off so that he could get new games. So that her sister would be able to afford the cute clothes by the time she started high school. So that her mom could stop working the job she fucking hated. 

When everyone forgot that, she didn't know. What she does know is Cleo demanded that she let her do yoga with her this morning, and Carter fucking had to practice his recorder at the exact time she started meditating. And now she’s sitting in this hot ass car, with no air conditioning, stacked with her parents and siblings, looking at her like she's the monster for wanting to do her pregame ritual.

But they’d all be smiling at her when she won.

Just 20 more minutes. 20 more minutes until she could have some peace. 20 more before the world will disappear, and all there will be is tennis.

“Apologize to your brother, please.” 

But for now she’s still here.

“I’m sorry, El. Didn’t mean it.” She sighs, brushing the back of her hand over the little boy’s wet cheek. “Mom, I need to start working my heart rate, I’m gonna take a lap.” 

“Okay, honey, just wait for us to sign in.” 

“Kay.” Tashi pushes the door open to the car, ignoring the whines of her youngest sister to go with her as slams the door to the minivan shut. There are crowds of people already gathering. Other competitors and their families. Coaches. Hers should be around here somewhere. 

Normally she’d scope the competition. Her presence tends to put the other girls on edge, so she often chooses to warm up in front of them, letting them know what the fuck is on the other side of the net before they even hit the court. But today, all she could think about is all that’s on the line. Her head swirls with thoughts of how winning today could change a lot of things for her and the people she loves. 

All she wants is to get rid of those thoughts. She wants to be one track minded. She wants to get on the court and have a good fucking time without worrying about what’s going on in the stands. 

“Hey, I heard Tashi Duncan’s here, should we all just like, quit tennis and kill ourselves?” 

A smile forms on Tashi’s face as she turns away from the van, finding Heaven standing behind her holding a piece of poster board. “Hey, there, Serena. I got here a little early. You’ve got bitches quaking already.” 

The taller girl basically hops forward, tossing her arms around Heaven, Tashi giggles as the girl stumbles back a little in an attempt to catch her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I think my best friend plays in some of these things. I came to cheer her on.” Heaven squeezes her back before stepping away, holding out the poster for Tashi to see. “You’re crumpling the poster I made you.”

“There’s,” Tashi laughs again, placing her hands on her hips. “A lot of curse words on that.”

“I’m passionate.” 

“The poster makes you look like a fan girl, Hev.” She jokes, looping her arm with Heaven’s, guiding her toward the tennis club’s center and away from her parents' car. The headache that had started forming moments ago begins to fade as she and Heaven step side to side as they make their way to where the fences surrounding the courts are, ignoring the nervous looks from the girls they pass. “I’m usually a little more subtle when I come to see you twirl.”

“Twirl, you bitch.” Heaven scoffs. “Well, you don’t like flowers-”

“Who said I don’t like flowers?”

“Um, you, when Dylan Cho bought you some and I watched you regift them to your elderly neighbor after you said, quote, ‘I don’t fucking like flowers’ end quote.” 

Tashi stops walking, standing in the little grassy area next to the fence she rolls her, “Fine, correction, I don’t like flowers from Dylan Cho.” 

“And from Heaven Whitlock?” the shorter girl flirts, rocking on her feet. 

“Dunno, get me some and find out I guess.”

“You’re annoying.” Heaven huffs. Her eyes narrow as Tashi plops down into the grass, ignoring the blades poking at her bare legs and sitting criss-crossed, taking in a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yup, I’m fine.” Tashi sighs, eyes slipping closed.

“Oh, okay.”  A beat passes. “It’s just you don’t seem okay. So, what’s up?”

“Just got a lot riding on today. And, I didn’t get through my regimen, so I feel fucking,” she waves her hands around as she tries to find the words. “Like just…too much. I’m thrown off. I hate when shit is too much right before I have something to do. Like, I like doing this, but I didn’t get to do what I need to and now i feel like-”

“What, you’ll lose?” Tashi’s eyes shoot open at that. Heaven had crouched down to her level, head tilted as she genuinely looked at her like she’s confused.  “Since when do you do that?” 

“What? Lose?” Tashi asks, staring into the deep brown eyes of her best friend.

“No, stop betting on yourself. You’re a tennis player, right? That’s what you are.” 

“W-yeah-”

“Okay, so you’ll win. Because you’re a tennis player and because you’re the best. Because you have to. Because its what you do.” Heaven gently pushes Tashi’s cheek with the knuckle of her pointer finger. “And because I don’t move my dance practices for people who don’t fucking win.”

“No pressure.”

“You’ll be fine.” Heaven shrugs. Tashi laughs, dropping her head forward. It almost alarms her how similar she and her best friend are in times like this. Heaven is genuinely her other half. She’s the only person who can demand that she show results and get away with it. Tashi respects her, she’s strong and yet understanding. She’s a perfectionist, and expects excellence, but she can meet her own expectations. With her, Tashi doesn’t feel like she has to run everything, she doesn’t have to carry her weight along with her own. She’s her equal. 

She may have grown up in a different kind of home, being an only child and not very close to either of her biological parents. She might be rich and spoiled. But she has what Tashi has. She knows it. The drive, the tunnel vision, the lust for her craft. 

Tashi remembers the first time she’d seen Heaven dance. The girl had shown up to the gym they used to hang out at, held her hand out to Tashi, and demanded she come watch her dance in one of the empty rooms. She’d said she’d watched Tashi play and it was only fair that she knew she was the best at something too. Tashi couldn’t have known what she was about to experience. The heart pounding, throat tightening feeling of watching someone change your life with every movement. Heaven’s eyes had been closed. It was like Heaven might as well have been alone. Everything had fallen away, including Tashi. It moved the young tennis player.

That was years ago, and now they were 16 and inseparable. They practice together, go on double dates, workout, and spend time with each other’s families. Mostly, they were themselves, not having to apologize to each torah about their passions. They were best friends. 

Which is why Tashi is shocked when she feels Heaven’s hand cup her cheek, her face moving impossibly close to hers, yet, their lips not touching, her eyes searching. “You’ll also win, because you’re Tashi.”

Blinking slowly, Tashi’s eyes flick between Heaven’s eyes and lips, her own parting slightly as she inches just a little bit closer, yet still refusing to be the one to close the distance. “What’re you doing? Trying to motivate me?”

“You need me to motivate you?”

“I’m always motivated.”

“Okay.” Heaven’s smile brushes Tashi’s mirrored one for a moment, causing both girls to shiver. “Then it’s not motivation.” She stands abruptly, swiping the grass that stuck to her legs with the morning dew away. “It’s just something to think about.” With that, Heaven turns on her heel, jokingly waving her slightly explicit, very encouraging sign in the air before calling over her shoulder. “Destroy that bitch. And then, I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

Before Tashi takes the final serve she sees Art coming through the fence. He sends her a soft smile and a wave before he moves along the edges of the court to avoid getting in their way. 

She hadn’t gotten to see a lot of him recently. Between classes, tennis and trying not to blow her brain out listening to Patrick bitch about tour, she hasn’t had time for much else. Yesterday she had four missed calls and no texts from Heaven when she’d gotten back from the courts. She offers him a smile back before serving the ball over the net.

When the match is done, Tashi watches on as her teammate pretends to whisper as she talks shit about her, taking a swig out of her water bottle before pushing it into her bag.

“Hey, you look good out there.”

Tashi looks up from her bag to see Art standing before her. He’d definitely gotten more defined in his time at Stanford. His muscles are more cut, his shirts a little tighter. And he seemed to have a little more swagger about him, his head a little cocked back as he addressed her, an easy smile on his face. And his win record was fucking great right now. It makes her think that maybe her assessment when she met him was right. He’s fucking good. Just terrified of his own best friend. Being out from Patrick’s shadow clearly agrees with him. “Thanks, stranger, it’s good to see you.”

“Oh, that’s my fault? I’m the campus celebrity that gets caught up signing her fans’ t-shirts on her way to class?” he jokes.

Tashi raises one shoulder noncommittally, sweeping her bag onto the other. “I hear the girls talking.”

“All talk, I swear.” He says, eyes widening. There’s the sheepish boy whose ears turn red at the drop of a hat.

“Hey, man, get your dick wet, I don’t care.” Tashi laughs, nudging Art before slipping past him. 

“Wait-” He calls from behind her, stepping into her path again. “Let’s catch up, we can get lunch at the dining hall.”

Tashi quirks an eyebrow, shifting her weight from one hip to the other. “On you?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Good, I’m out of points.

“So, thanks for lunch, it’s nice to see you.” Tashi smiles, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “What’s up?”

Art shifts in his seat. He doesn’t know what he’d been thinking. He’d gone to the courts to hit the ball a little but for some reason, as soon as he saw Tashi, he found himself inviting her to lunch. If anything, he should probably be avoiding her out of guilt or something. And he does…feel guilty. He’s buying her lunch as if the fact that he’s getting her a mediocre campus lunch makes up for the fact that he’d spent the night with his face between her girlfriend’s legs. 

It makes him wonder though. The fact that Tashi wasn’t tossing her gatorade into his face meant that Heaven probably didn’t tell her what happened. Maybe she plans to keep it a secret, and expects him to do the same. Maybe she freaked out and drove all the way back to UCLA, something he prayed didn’t happen because he was sort’ve banking on at least seeing her again later today. He knew he’d be forced to keep his distance, Patrick is coming at some point today and he knows if Heaven was still here, she wouldn’t give him the time of day in front of both of them.

Or maybe she did tell her. Maybe she told her that he’d said he loved her and Heaven and Tashi had a good laugh about it. Maybe Heaven promised that it hadn’t meant anything, and she was never going to let him near her like that again. 

The thought makes Art irritable. 

His mouth ticks downward as he sits back against the back of his plastic chair. “It’s nothing, I just wanted to catch up.”

“Mm, okay, well, Patrick and Heaven are supposed to be coming down later for the Pepperdine match, we should all get dinner or something.” 

That makes him freeze. So she doesn’t even know she was here. 

“If you want.”

Tashi’s fork hits her plate causing a plink sound to ring out in the air between them. “Okay, Art, this is fucking stupid.”

“What’s stupid? What’re you talking about?”

“Like you ask me to this lunch and then you’re being all weird-”

“I wanted to catch up with you, it’s not weird.”

She huffs, resting her elbows roughly on the table. “Just fucking say it. Spit it out.” 

He shouldn’t. Art’s not an idiot, he knows he shouldn’t. He should shut the fuck up. Or make something up. This line of conversation would lead to nothing but trouble and he should know better. He does know better. So, he’s not gonna say it. He’s gonna keep his mouth shut-

“I’m just surprised you guys are all still together, that’s all.”

If looks could kill, Art Donaldson would be dead and fucking buried. The icy stare that Tashi fixes him with has him slumping in exasperation with himself. He just couldn’t fucking help himself. Tashi’s brows furrow as her eyes move across his face almost rapidly, studying him. “Why?”

“I don’t…I’m just surprised. I just, like Patrick’s never-”

“Is he fucking other girls on tour or something? Like is this your way of trying to tell me?” 

“No, I don’t know, we don’t talk about that-”

“Bullshit.” Tashi rolls her eyes. “So what? There’s someone else? Or you feel like…like they’re fucking each other behind my back?”

“No, I don’t think Heaven is fucking Patrick behind your back.” Art scoffs jealously. This is where he fucked up. He shouldn’t have said her name. He knows he can’t say it normally, there’s always something behind it. Even Art can hear it. He adjusts his hat nervously as Tashi sits forward even more.

“I get it. You like her. That’s fine. She shows you attention. Fucking great. I bet it feels good. But Heaven isn’t going anywhere. Not without me. I know that, you know that. I’m gonna give you some advice because I’m actually a good friend. I know I sound like a bitch. I know it feels like I’m the mean one. But I’m actually showing you some grace. You don’t have what it takes to be with Heaven-”

“And Patrick does? He has what it takes to be with you two?”

“I do.” she asserts, scooting her chair out. “You might just be the worst friend in the world.”

The words cause a pang of pain that makes Art hang his head, eyes slipping closed. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.” Tashi scowls, grabbing her keys to leave.

“He’s not in love with you. Either of you.” He calls, squeezing his eyes shut, picking at his nails under the table, but keeping an even expression as Tashi rounds on the table again.

“What makes you think I want someone to be in love with me? Did I say I wanted someone to be in love with me?”

“No.”

“Okay.” she turns to exit again, stopping just short as Art’s word vomit fucks him over one more time.

“But Heaven does.” He says, scratching at his hair and dragging his eyes up to meet Tashi’s. “And she deserves it. You both do.”

Tashi snorts, meanly, crossing her arms over her chest, her large gray t-shirt wrinkles under how tightly she wraps her arms around herself. Her curls shake with her head as she looks down at him in disbelief. “You think because she gives you a crumb of pussy you know her better than me now? Don’t try to play me for her Art. I don’t lose.”

With that, Art watches as Tashi storms out of the cafeteria, her half eaten lunch sitting in front of the empty seat across from him and for the first time, he acknowledges that Patrick might not be the only opponent in his bracket.

“So, have you-uh, you been seeing anybody?” Art shoves his change in his pocket before balancing the two churros he’d bought in his hands, making his way back over to Patrick.

“What’re you talking about?” Patrick shifts on his stool, hooking his foot into the base of Art’s and tugging the chair closer as his friend plops down. “I’m taken. I think that Tashi and Heaven are making an honest man out of me.”

“Right.” Art laughs. 

“What, you don’t believe me? I really like them, man. They’re both good for me in different ways. I didn’t realize how good it could be having girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends? Is that what you are to each other?”

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what we are.” Patrick chuckles, taking a bite of his churro, “What did they say something?”

“No, not really,” Art shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just had lunch with Tashi earlier, like we talk sometimes, and it just doesn’t seem like she’s taking it as something serious, you know?”

“Is that right?”

“I dunno man, it just gave that vibe. And like, Heaven, what do you two really have in common?”

“What? Aside from being hot for each other you mean?” Patrick smirks, flicking Art’s hat. 

The muscle in Art’s jaw jumps at that as he involuntarily grits his teeth at the vision of Patrick being with Heaven, touching her, knowing her in the way he does, or worse, knowing her better. “I can’t help but think she might want something more than that and I know that’s not really your style is all. Just don’t want you to get hurt.” He mumbles, staring out of the large window in front of them.

Patrick scoffs and nods to himself before pushing out of his seat, leaning over Art, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as he presses his forehead to his. “You little fucking snake. I’d be doing the exact same thing, I’m almost proud of you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure.” Patrick says smugly, popping the rest of his churro into his mouth before snatching Art’s, taking a bite and holding it out for the blond to do the same. “Planting seeds of doubt, smart.”

“I would never do anything to sabotage your relationship, I’m just looking out for you.” Art says breezily, brushing sugar from Patrick’s lips.

“Hm, sure,” Patrick gets a text, slipping his phone out of his pocket, he grins at his phone, smile going even wider when he sees Art trying to nonchalantly peek at the device from his seat. “Hev’s here. You know this just makes it hotter for me right? Knowing you’re here, pining for them. Scheming and shit.”

“Fuck you, m’not scheming, I’m very happy that you managed to scam your way into two girlfriends, Patrick.”

“This is good. It’s nice to see you all lit up about something, I miss that. Even if it is my girlfriends.” The two men stop for a beat and think about the situation they’re in and suddenly they find themselves laughing. It’s crazy. They’ve only ever liked the same girl once before in their lives, and they were kids then. It is absolutely insane now that they both have feelings for not one but two girls. Maybe normal friends would be able to share. They’d each pick a girl and that would be it. But something about this situation was different. Beyond the fact that both of them thought both of the girls were too amazing to pass up, there's an added layer in the conflict, because they both had a fear they didn’t want to address. 

Each girls’ feelings for them are conditional. There is no Tashi Duncan without Heaven Whitlock. There is no Heaven Whitlock without Tashi Duncan. Where one goes the other follows. That’s why none of their boyfriends and girlfriends ever worked out. They tried to divide them. But the grip the two women had on each other was too strong. Even if they could come to an agreement, if Patrick and Art decided they preferred one girl to the other, it wouldn’t matter. The two of them will always choose each other, and would always expect everyone else to fall in line.

It’s a sobering thought for both of them as they sit in the empty cafeteria, silence falling between them. Patrick feels his mind drift somewhere it seemed to be going a lot lately. He wonders if he and Art have the kind of relationship Tashi and Heaven do. Obviously they don’t fuck each other, though he’s pretty sure he’s made it clear before he’s down to hookup. But the loyalty. 

They’re best friends. Fire and Ice. It’s not lost on him that despite the fact that his friend clearly has some strong feelings for his girlfriends, they’re still friends. He still checks in on him. They’re still happy to see each other. Art still feels like Art. And Patrick’s grateful for it. So he can overlook some of the snarky comments, the glares over his shoulder, the questioning of their relationship. As long as things ultimately stayed the same between him and Art, Patrick would be fine. He pats his friend on the shoulder, getting up from the stool, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Walk me over.”

“You look pretty.”

“You look pretty too.” Tashi hums, leaning over and kissing Heaven deeply. When the two girls pull apart Tashi pushes her hands under Heaven’s large red t-shirt, running her hands along the skin of her stomach. Her brow arches as she looks down at the girl. “Art give you this shirt?”

“Tashi-”

“I know it didn’t mean anything.” Tashi says lowly, glancing over at the bathroom door, careful not to let Patrick hear the conversation. “He’s pressed though, so, what do you like him or something? Like are you over Patrick?”

It didn’t not mean anything.  “It’s fine, I…just couldn’t get you on the phone and Patrick was busy, so…it, I was just having a bad day.” Heaven breathes, bringing Tashi’s hand to her lips and kissing her palm. “Sorry.”

“Fair is fair, I’ve hooked up with both of them, now you have too.” Tashi shrugs. As much as her face is fixed in an uncaring expression, Heaven can tell she’s bothered by the fact that Heaven had been messing with Art. She’d never even addressed that she’d gone to visit Patrick without her again. Heaven wants to talk to her about these feelings she has. She wants to tell her that these guys are different from the others for her, and she thinks they are for Tashi too. The knob turns on the bathroom door and Patrick comes out, pulling his shirt over his head.

But now is not the time.

“Starting without me?” Patrick jokes, leaning down and kissing Tashi’s knee as he wraps a hand around Heaven’s ankle, causing her to squeal as he tugs her down closer to him. “Missed you.” He murmurs against Tashi’s skin before pulling away to capture Heaven’s lips. “Both of you.”

“Yeah?” Tashi smiles, sitting up and planting her hand on Patrick’s chest, pushing him down onto the mattress. He sits back, staring at the two women sitting on their knees in front of him. Tashi climbs into his lap leaning over and kissing Heaven one more time before she sinks down beside Patrick, kissing along his jaw. 

Patrick reaches over and tugs at Heaven’s shirt, unable to get it off from beside her so she sits up, pulling the shirt off and tossing it. His eyes trail after the fabric as his face takes on a confused expression. “That’s Art’s shirt?”

Heaven sits up, wide-eyed as she exchanges a look with Tashi. “Uh, yeah, he gave it to me earlier.”

“Earlier. Right,” he shifts his gaze to Tashi, letting her guide his face back to hers. “When were you guys gonna tell me about him?”

“He’s your best friend. I figured you knew.” Tashi hums against the skin on his cheek as Heaven kisses his lips. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” he mumbles against Heaven’s lips, pulling  back and watching as Heaven assists Tashi in getting her shirt off. “I’m the one who won the match. What do I need to be jealous of Art for?”

“Well,” Heaven kisses Patrick’s neck, murmuring her words against his jaw. “He’s smart, and handsome-” her hand slips down in the space between Tashi’s legs and Patricks, she relishes in the gasps they both release. 

“And really fucking good at tennis.” Tashi cuts in.

“He’s always been very good.” Patrick grunts, burying his fingers at the base of the loose braid in Tashi’s hair. 

“But he’s gotten better since he got here. I mean he’s really fucking good.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she hears Tashi’s whispers. Was this really the time to be talking about Art? Hell, since when did Tashi have such a good fucking glowing review of him? Literally minutes ago she was dismissively saying that she knew hooking up with him would mean nothing. If she was trying to make Patrick jealous she should know the mission was already accomplished. As soon as they started talking about Art, he started kissing them a little rougher, gripping them a little tighter. “He’s never beaten me. We’re not still playing for your numbers. I won.” Patrick laughs. 

“He’s been working hard.” Heaven blurts. Both her boyfriend and girlfriend look at her as she crosses his arms. “It’s just like, are we gonna hold that shit over him forever, he’s our friend.”

Tashi purses her lips, looking between the two of them. “See? This is your problem. You always think the match is over before it is. It’s why you’ve still got that serve.”

“Jesus, Tashi-”

“Are we talking about tennis right now?” Patrick asks, eyebrows raised.

“I’m always talking about tennis.” She huffs, sitting up straight, still perched on his lap. Heaven rolls her eyes, knowing exactly where this is going. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she snatches Art’s shirt off of the floor and storms into the bathroom.

Patrick gestures toward the bathroom exasperatedly. “Could we not?” 

Tashi tilts her head from one side to the other, cracking her neck before chirping out a short, “Sure.” Climbing off of him she grabs a fresh t-shirt from her drawer and pulling it over her head. “Don’t know what else there is for us to talk about-”

“Maybe we should talk about the fact that she’s wearing Art’s shirt and neither of us knew when she got here.” Patrick follows the two girls off of the bed, standing in the middle of the floor between the bathroom door and where Tashi was rolling out her yoga mat.

“Heaven’s attracted to winners.” Tashi squats deeply on her yoga mat, not bothering to even look at Patrick out of the corner of her eyes. “So am I.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“Art’s been winning, that’s all.” She says passively, standing into a tree pose.

“And so she’s cheating on us because Art’s getting better at tennis?”

Tashi fixes Patrick with a sharp look. “She’s not cheating on me. But if you want to confront her, go ahead, be my guest.”

“Yeah, fine I will.” Patrick takes two long strides and bangs at the bathroom door. “Hev. Can you come out here?” The door creaks open and the girl is fully dressed, still wearing Art’s shirt and a pair of shorts. “You’re dressed.”

“Yeah, imma head out, see you guys at the match.”

“Patrick wants to talk to you about Art.” Tashi says, moving into her lunges. 

“Now’s not the time, Tashi has a match.” Heaven shrugs, grabbing Tashi’s water bottle and taking a drink.

“And you don’t think it’s important to talk about this now?” 

“I tried to talk to you.” She sighs, “But I’m not gonna throw her off right before the match.”

“So this is still about tennis? Are you fucking serious?” He looks at the blank stares that both girls offer him and throws his arms out. “This is fucking crazy. So, you’re messing with Art because I lost a couple matches on tour?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heaven frowns, crossing her arms. 

“I’m saying I don’t need a fake fan for a girlfriend who's gonna mess with a different guy every time I go through a rough patch.”

“A rough patch?” Heaven scoffs. “Patrick, I’m having a rough patch. A rough patch is a bad day at practice, not your shitty win-loss record. Look, I’m sorry about the fucking shirt, okay? I’m sorry I went to see him, I’m sorry for this stupid fucking conversation, so take this-” She wrenches Art’s shirt over her head, and tosses it on the bed, grabbing one of Tashi’s instead. She looks at the girl with a scowl on her face. “You did this on purpose. I’ll see you guys at the match.”

Patrick watches in disbelief as Heaven has the audacity to be the one storming out and turns back to a still stretching Tashi. “I don’t need a coach for a girlfriend either.”

“Seems like you do.” She sighs, stretching her back. “Look, what is it you think you need from me, Patrick? Like really? There are plenty of girls who’d like to be your little girlfriend, cheerleader, whatever. You’re cute, you’re rich, you’ve got a big dick, go be with them. I get it, you’re living the dream, having two fucking girls but, Heaven and I actually expect results, so, I dunno. It’s kinda embarrassing, if you suck.”

“I suck now? I’m sorry not all of us are running around playing against Suzy Country Club, calling ourselves the Duncanator.” 

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t see you harassing Heaven about skipping rehearsal to come see me.”

“Heaven’s a fucking professional. Doesn’t embarrass me.” Tashi scratches her ear as she sits on the floor. “Do you know how much of a fucking waste of time it is for us take turns sitting through listening to you bitch about how you’re being cheated out on tour?”

“Sorry for inconveniencing you.”

“You are actually.”

Patrick crouches next to her, face close to hers as she faces forward with a blank look. “You don’t get to talk to me like I’m beneath you two, I’m not desperate for you to like me, I’m not Art. I’m your boyfriend, not a member of your fan club.”

He stands and Tashi quickly follows, scowling at him as she stands almost nose to nose. “You’re not a member of my fan club?”

Patrick stands his ground, staring down at her. “I’m your peer.”

Tashi scoffs, laughing humorously. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you lose her, it’ll be your fault. And I’ll go with her.” Patrick curls his lip, sneering at that. He knew that. He knows that. But to hear her say it. Like its a given. The verbal confirmation that he’s valued less has his blood boiling. “I don’t have time for this, I’ll just see you at the match.”

“You don’t get to just dismiss me.” Patrick huffs, grabbing the shirt Tashi had shed and pulling it over his own head. “I don’t need this shit.”

The pieces of Tashi’s hair that had fallen out of her braid blow into her face as the door slams shut, and all she can do is try to regulate her breathing as she thinks that she somehow lost another point because there were too many balls in play.

Heaven’s leg jumps as she sits in the bleachers at the school match. She watches students climb into the stands, decked out in ‘Duncanator’ attire. She’s fucked everything up. With Tashi. She’s pissed. She knows she is. Her even voice and blank stare is something Heaven knows well. And now she’s digging shit up with Patrick. 

She knows it’s her fault. No matter how sad she was she knows she had no business hanging out with Art. Not while he…feels the way he feels about her. Not while she feels the way she does. She clearly can’t handle even being his friend. One minute she’s just running into him, or alone with him by happenstance, or just calling to chat. The next he’s looking at her the way he does and her mind is foggy. 

She needs to do better. Patrick and Tashi deserve better. Art deserves better than half of her. So she’s going to keep her distance. 

In her peripheral view she sees blond hair moving up the stands towards her and immediately curses whatever god decided to make a joke of her today. She can feel Art’s intense gaze burn into her skin as he moves to sit in the seat next to her, pausing briefly, choosing to put one empty seat between them. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He says softly, eyes on her as she faces forward determinedly.

“You aren’t.”

“You won’t look at me.” His voice cracks on the last word and on the side opposite of him, Heaven grips the bottom of the bleachers, willing herself not to face him. “It’s because of what I said.”

Yes. “No.”

“Yes.” Art breathes. “I know I fucked it up. But I just…care about you. A lot.” 

“I care about you too.” Heaven sighs. “But-”

“What would it take?” He blurts, shifting completely in his seat to face her. “I’m just…he won and that’s fine but it was a stupid fucking game, so, what do I need a rematch or something, because I’ll win this time. Heaven, I’d win this time.”

“Art, we can’t talk about this okay? Patrick’s-”

“Not coming. He isn’t coming.” The blond man shrugs, sitting back in his seat, still watching the girl beside him. “I came, Heaven.” 

“It’s complicated. I shouldn’t have gone out with you in the first place. I’m fucking up. Even now, sitting here, I’m fucking up. You’re confusing me, a-and distracting me. It’s not like that with them, and I’m…I can’t come running to you crying with my problems every time I’m upset. It’s not fair to you-”

“I want you to come to me.”

“It’s not fair to them. And…I’m gonna stop, Art. We’re going to stop.”

Before Art can say anything the crowd starts cheering loudly, everyone jumping to their feet apart from him and Heaven. He just stares at her. It’s as if he could blink and she’d be gone. He feels her pulling away, and it’s causing him to panic. He nervously picks at his fingers, chest rising and falling rapidly as he sifts through his brain, anything he could do or say, just for a glance, he just needs her eyes. Just for a little bit. Just one more time. He didn’t know what to do. What to convince her. He could be so much better for her. He would do anything. He could be anything, if she’d just look at him. He’d show her he could earn her attention. Her love. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t notice the match started. Art watches Heavens pupils focus on one side of the court. He knows who’s over there. He knows who’s getting the attention he’s begging for. But she has his. Even like this, breaking his heart, she’s beautiful. The sad look on her face hardly affected her beautiful features. Her unbreaking focus makes her look otherworldly to him. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he might’ve been able to appreciate her passion, even if it wasn’t directed at him. 

A pained wail finally pulls Art’s attention away from Heaven. 

Studies say that the color of pain is red.

Studies are fucking right. Red is all Tashi fucking sees when her body decides to betray her and her knee absolutely snaps in half. The entire rest of her is numb as her knee screams and she feels her dreams start slipping away. It’s not fair.

Hurting this bad is not fair. That’s what really has her screaming out into the air. Several sets of eyes locked on her as she writhes on the court. The crowd had the fucking audacity to gasp when she went down. Oh you’re shocked? Me fucking too.

Quick footsteps make their way to her and she hears a man’s voice as she feels her head being lifted from on top of her racket and onto someone’s lap. “Tashi, Tashi-”

“Get that fucking camera out of her face, now! Fucking idiot!” There are two more steps and the sound of something sliding on the ground next to her. Suddenly, she feels a soft hand on her jaw. “T, you gotta breathe, babe, you have to breathe or you’ll pass out.” 

The softness of Heaven’s voice makes her cry even harder as she tries to lean her head toward her. “You shouldn’t move, Tashi.” 

Art. He’s here. Of course he is…Heaven’s here. But, still, as he smooths his hands over her hair, she thinks, he’s here. Despite what she’d said to him, he came. He’s here, after she yelled at him, holding her, lifting her gently to carry her to the infirmary. And Patrick was nowhere to be found. When she finally opens her eyes, she turns her head to focus her wet eyes on Heaven who was holding her hand over Art’s shoulder. Through her tear soaked lashes she can see the way Heaven was looking at him. And suddenly, she realized that she was too late in what she warned Patrick of. He’d already lost her. He was a sinking ship. Losing Heaven, fighting with her right before a match, not showing up. He’s unstable, unable to follow the course Tashi was charting. And she refuses to go down with him.

“Tashi, Tashi listen-”

“Out! Patrick out!”

“Just listen to me, Heaven talk to her-”

“Don’t fucking talk to her.” Tashi yells from the medical examination bed they had her wrapped leg hoisted up on. She points to the door again with venom. “Out!”

“Patrick-” Heaven starts, biting her nails from her seat next to Tashi, holding her hand with the other, Tashi whips her head to look at her, a teardrop escaping from her eye causes the girl to go quiet, sweeping her thumb across her girlfriend’s cheek. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, just listen-”

“Patrick get the fuck out!”

The outburst even startles Heaven. She turns her head to see Art standing from his seat, breathing heavily, fists clenched. Patrick’s face absolutely drops as he takes one slow step backward before turning and leaving the room entirely. 

As soon as he leaves Tashi’s head falls back against the pillow, bottom lip shaking as he stares up at the ceiling. She attempts to disguise a sob as a sharp breath and Heaven hops down from the examination bed, ignoring Art’s soft call of her name and Tashi’s wide eyed look.

“Hey!” Heaven rushes out into the hallway, eyes burning from sterile white lights and drying tears. “Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” 

“Look, your girlfriend and boyfriend told me to go so-”

“So…so you’re just gonna leave? Fucking loser” She huffs, shaking her head at Patrick. Her lip curls as she sees him standing there in Tashi’s shirt. He’s breathing heavily, eyes narrowed at her disapproval. “Gimme her fuckin’ shirt back.”

Patrick scoffs, wrenching the fabric over his head, tossing it roughly at Heaven’s feet. “Here, give it to Art. Guess it’s his turn with you now-”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she whisper-yells, not flinching at all as Patrick walks up on her, his nose nearly touching hers.

“I know you’re fucking him.” He says, a mean, rueful smirk on his face. “We know you’re fucking him.”

Heaven swallows hard. Clenching her teeth and looking back toward the door, praying that Art and Tashi weren’t hearing this conversation. Her voice betrays her as her heart drums against her chest. “You don’t know anything.”

“She’s done with me, so, so are you. That’s how this works, right?” He challenges, not moving an inch as she turns back to him. “You’re her bitch.”

“I’m her bitch?” Heaven laughs humorously, tossing her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re a fucking fan.”

“I’m a fan? Yeah, no, sweetheart, wrong boyfriend-”

“No, you’re a fucking fan, Patrick. It’s how you met Tashi, it’s how you met me, it’s why you’re about to cry like a little bitch because Art yelled at you, God for-fucking-bid-”

“Is that all?”

“No. And you’re a bum. You’re talented but it’s a fucking waste, why don’t you go out there and win something, instead of watching everyone else achieve shit and scoffing like a pretentious prick. And then you won’t waste all your time shitting on people for actually working for something.”

The brown haired man sucks on his teeth, nodding along. “My turn yet?” Heaven just places her hands on her hips as the man moves closer. “You know what, Hev, maybe you’re right. Maybe that shit is true. But you’re looking in a mirror, baby. You’re just like me. You might go to your fancy school and you’re a hell of a dancer but at the end of the day you learned to like tennis for her. You came here for her. You like me, you like Art, but you’re so fucking scared of her being unhappy that you can’t move. Everytime we fight it’s over her. Do you even know what you want?”

Heaven sniffs, looking off to the side as Patrick smoothes back some of the hair from her ponytail fell into her face, his palm slightly soothing the headache that had formed the moment Tashi hit the ground. “I didn’t tell you to leave, Patrick.” 

“Alright, so come with me.”

“What?”

Patrick leans on the wall staring at her, daring her. “Come with me.” He watches as Heaven wraps her arms around herself, brows furrowing, and scoffs at her again. “We both know you’re going back in that room.” 

“Yeah.” she nods. “I am. And you’re fucking pathetic if you don’t come with me.” 

“And do what?”

Heaven’s hand fists in the baggy shirt, propelling her up slightly so they could be more face-to-face. The disgusted look on her face is evident as she stares him down, pretty feature’s dancing with rage. “You broke her, you fix her.” 

Patrick’s face softens as he looks at Heaven. There’s emotion behind the anger, the fear. There’s desperation. She’s desperate for a solution, desperate to help Tashi, one way or another. Right now, it's clear nothing else mattered in Heaven’s eyes. It's clear that she blames him.

He brings his hand down to the raw, bleeding skin of Heaven’s knee, cupping the back of it. “That looks bad-”

Heaven knocks his hand away, lip quivering as she pleads with him through brown eyes. “Are you gonna fix it?” All it takes is a look. And then she’s shoving away from him, storming her way back to the room, sending him one last scowl of disappointment before slamming the door behind her. “Fucking pussy.”

“What the fuck did you chase him for?” Tashi calls harshly from the padding. “Heaven.”

Heaven just silently limps in, trying hard to mask the pain in her own knee. It’s nothing like Tashi’s. It’s not even worth dealing with. Not when Tashi is in pain like that. She simply sits on the edge of the pad, careful to sit on the side that Tashi’s isn’t injured on. Her eyes slip closed as she leans up, pressing her forehead to hers. “S’okay. M’gonna fix it.” she promises. “This doesn’t…it’s not over. We’re gonna fucking fix it.”

Art’s jaw sets as he looks away. It felt like he was intruding on a moment between the two women. He hears Tashi’s faint sniffles mixing with whatever Heaven was quietly whispering in her ear. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He was worried for Tashi. Heartbroken for her. Laying in the bed, with an injury like that…he just doesn’t know. 

But all he could focus on is that damn drop of blood traveling from Heaven’s leg and splattering on the cold, white floor. The pink flesh showing from where she’d skinned herself, for her. She won’t just look at him. 

As he watches Heaven tend to the injured girl, Tashi’s words from the day before echo in his mind. But that damn drop of blood. He can't help himself. So he stays.

When the pain drugs finally force Tashi to sleep, Art’s had enough. 

Heaven was just…sitting there, watching Tashi sleep, running her hands over her hair with one hand, holding her hand with the other. He watches as she runs her thumb over Tashi’s forehead, staring blankly and biting her lip.

He takes a deep breath before whispering. “Hey, let me wrap that for you.”

“Wrap what?”

Does she really not feel it? She has to. The adrenaline had to have worn off, and she was limping when she came in. That scrape had to hurt like a bitch. 

“Your…your leg, Hev, let me wrap it.” Art says softly, pushing off of the chair and walking around to the side of the bed she’s sitting on. “It looks like it hurts.”

Heaven doesn’t look up from Tashi as she quietly shakes her head no, opting to continue combing her fingers in Tashi’s now loose hair. 

“Baby, c’mon-”

“I said no.” Heaven snaps, whipping her head to look at him briefly before turning back to Tashi. “Don’t call me that.”

Don’t try to play me for her. I don’t lose.

Art steadies himself before stepping closer, wordlessly holding his hand out to Heaven. He knows what he’s hoping for. He wants her to take it. But he also knows what he expects. 

So he’s shocked when he feels a soft hand in his. 

She’s still sitting. Still holding Tashi’s hand with her other one, but she took his. He has to do the rest. He knows that. Her eyes tell him that’s the only step she’ll take today. It’s been a rough one. For both of them. 

So he pulls, and she stands, and he scoops her up. Hands holding the backs of her thighs as he lifts her, eyes locked on hers as she flinches, once, as her hand pulls from Tashi’s grasp. Art sits Heaven on the infirmary counter and digs around in drawers until he finds alcohol wipes, gauze and band-aids. 

He makes work of her injury slowly, taking his time as he crouches in front of her. Art cleans the torn skin with the alcohol wipe, blowing cool air on it to soothe the sting, looking up at her through his lashes as he cleans her. He holds her thigh as he adds the gauze and band-aid, relishing in the feeling of her eyes on him. Only him. 

Finally, when he’s done, he stops her from hopping down and retreating back to Tashi’s side, bringing the injured knee to his lips and placing long, deep kisses to it, all while giving her his eyes. He watches as different emotions flash across her face as he murmurs sweet nothings and prayers into her knee, allowing herself to be soothed for a moment.

Before long she’s swallowing back her own tears that draw him up to her, determined to catch them on his finger and chasing them with his lips along her cheeks and jaw. He gently pushes her hair back before bringing his lips to her ear, holding her close. “I know, baby, I know.”

“I-” her voice cracks and Art feels her drop her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“What can I do? How can I make it better?”

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into him completely. “I wish it was my fucking leg. Instead…instead of hers.”

“Don’t say that.” He breathes. “Heaven-”

He stops. He was going to say something else. She says something else, her words mumbled against his skin. But Art misses it. 

Because all he can focus on is Tashi’s staring from the bed as he sees the reflection in the mirror.

[runninriot]

Love Is A Polaroid Steddie ficlet | ~2k | cw: implied/referenced self-destructive behaviour, drinking, a little heartbreak before it gets better | happy sappy steddie & platonic stobin

inspired by the insanely talented @inklessletter 's #polaroid series (go check out their art right now!!!)

   "Steeeve, please!" Robin begs. Literally begs.

Like, hands folded together as if in prayer, a pleading look in her eyes, expression as if she's in pain.

   "Robs, no! I don't- that's stupid. I don't feel comfortable with you following us around to take pictures for your- whatever it is." He waves a hand at her dismissively.

   "It's a project, Steve. For my Photography Studies course."

He should know, she already explained that. Told him something about visualizing love in its purest form. Told him she wants to take polaroid pictures of him and Eddie. No posing, just random shots whenever she feels like it. Pictures in black and white - something about using dark tones and deep contrasts to enhance the beauty of simple moments in their day to day life.

   "Whatever. I still don't get why it has to be us?"

Steve is a little frustrated. She's been going on about her wonderful idea for a good few minutes now, not willing to drop the subject no matter how adamantly Steve declines. She knows how shy he gets when he knows someone is taking a picture of him. He hates how he always looks a little off, has never felt very photogenic. So, the mere thought of Robin capturing him in possibly awkward situations with his boyfriend makes his skin crawl.

   "Well, first of all, you are my best friends, so it would mean a lot to have you be part of it. Plus, we live together so I wouldn’t be around you any more than I already am. You wouldn’t even notice. And you two are the perfect motive because-“ Robin’s eyes flicker down to her own feet, unable to hold his gaze.

Her face is suddenly painted with a faint crimson blush. Steve's furrowed brows smooth out and his expressions go soft again when he looks at his best friend's bashful little smile as she looks sheepishly back up at him.

   "You are the perfect motive because I've never seen two people being so in love with each other. Makes me sick how soft and cute you two are, if I'm honest."

Robin chuckles and Steve snorts loudly, both rolling their eyes at the same time because God, when did Robin become such a sap?

   "What you and Eddie have is love in its purest form. It’s unapologetic, honest, and real. It's all I ever want to find for myself. I'm fucking jealous of you, Steve!"

They laugh and Steve ignores the violent tug in his heart caused by her words.

What him and Eddie have really is special. He knows it's some kind of miracle that they've ended up where they are now. It wasn't always that easy. There were times when Steve wanted to just give up. When the world tumbled down and buried him under its weight. When he thought he could never have Eddie like that, wanted to rather die than live life without him.

When Steve realised he had fallen in love with his best friend, his best male friend, he panicked. Finding out he likes boys like he likes girls wasn't even the scariest part. What really took him out was the fear of losing Eddie if he ever told him the truth. For weeks he tried to push his feelings down, tried to cage them behind his ribs but all it did was make him suffer even more. Every time Eddie looked at him, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. Every time Eddie touched him, it left a searing sensation on his skin. Every time they were alone, Steve felt like he was losing his mind, desperately trying to fight the urge to kiss the boy so blissfully unaware of the heartache he caused him. He fought and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore and succumbed to the tormenting ache in his chest. Until he fell into a dark hole.

Steve drifted apart, dulling his feelings with unhealthy amounts of booze. Hunting for warm, willing bodies to sink into. Starving for touch and affection just to feel anything other than the grief-stricken pain of losing the lover he never even had to begin with.

Of course, his self-destructive behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by his friends. Robin tried everything in her power to get through to him. Offered advice and help for all the wrong problems because she couldn’t have known that the real issue was his own fucking mind and his inability to talk about what kept him up at night. What made him so angry and distant and numb.

And then there was Eddie. Sweet, kind, and caring Eddie who couldn’t keep watching his friend ruin his own life anymore. Who gave him an ultimatum – stop hurting yourself or I’ll leave.

Eddie’s words felt like a pistol held to his head, the determination in his teary eyes like a finger ready to pull the trigger. Steve knew he meant it, knew this was his last chance. He would lose the one person that meant everything to him.

   “I can’t lose you, Eddie.”

   “Then let me love you instead.”

He said the words like it was easy. Like it hadn’t nearly cost Steve his sanity to even think them.

Love.

Love you.

   “I love you!”

Steve felt like he was startling awake from a nightmare. One of those where, once you’ve opened your eyes, you instantly forget its horrors. That’s what it felt like when his confession found its way out of his mouth, making the pain of the past months disperse into nothingness.

Eddie had been right there all this time.

Eddie, with tears running down his beautiful face, smiling lovingly at Steve. Eddie, who brought his hands up to each side of Steve’s face before he leaned down and sealed his lips with a bruising kiss. Despair and pain spilling from his mouth as he licked his way inside, forcefully pushing something else in their place. Filling Steve’s insides with warmth and light and happiness. Passion running through his veins, pumping love into his heart, restarting the rotten organ to pick up its once steady beat. Its rhythm hard and fast, growing in size so big Steve felt like it would burst right through his chest.

I. Love. You.

Three simple words were all it took.

All the pain, the suffering, the loveless nights, and dreadful days – they all vanished in the seconds it took to say them out loud.

Three simple words, that seemed so frightening in his mind, so loaded with too much meaning and not enough weight to truly express what he felt.

What he still feels.

Loving Eddie and be loved by him in return is so easy. It’s easy because it just comes naturally. It’s what makes their love so pure, so honest, and true. They have one heart beating in two separate bodies. They are a two-piece puzzle, their curves and edges shaped to fit. A perfect match.

Steve holds out his hands, waits for Robin to take them in hers, and pulls her into a hug.

   “Eddie already said yes, hasn’t he?” Steve says through a defeated smile.

   “Well, his exact words were ‘You’re gonna regret it, Bucks.’ And then he said something about being extra nasty and insufferable just to wind me up. But yeah, he’s on board.” Robin huffs out a laugh.

Steve pulls her tighter, laughs when he practically hears Eddie’s voice in his head, sees his mischievous grin before his inner eye.

Eddie loves to be the centre of attention. Loves to be in the spotlight. Of course, he would be happy to provide himself as vessel for Robin’s artistic outlet.

    The things you do for love, Steve sighs before he agrees.

 

Polaroid #1

Movie night. The three friends are watching some old, trashy horror movie. Steve had a very stressful day at work, can barely keep his eyes open when they’re not even 15 minutes into the movie. He falls asleep on the couch, unbothered by Robin and Eddie’s bickering and laughing. When the movie comes to an end, Eddie leans down to Steve’s resting body, foreheads touching as he takes a moment to just listen to the other man’s calm breathing. ‘Hey baby,’ Eddie whispers softly, ‘time to get up.’ He kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, waits for him to slowly drift out of his deep slumber.

Steve smiles sleepily when he opens his eyes and sees Eddie’s face hovering over him, accepts the gentle press of Eddie’s lips against his own.

   ‘C’mon, darling. Let’s get you to bed.’

   ‘I’m not even tired anymore,’ Steve says, his face scrunched up when he yawns loudly.

   ‘Hmm, I know a way to tire you out, baby. Don’t worry,’ Eddie answers smugly, brushing their noses together before he kisses him again.

Robin makes a gagging sound, but smiles as she takes a picture to capture this soft little moment.

Polaroid #2

Sunday morning. They are all a little groggy from Robin’s early birthday celebrations last night. They’ve been out dancing, downing shot after shot, having an awesome time. Now, the buzz from the night before is gone and makes way for headaches and hangover munchies. Steve promised Robin pancakes in the morning and she’s desperate for him to finally get up and make them. She knocks on their bedroom door and steps in without waiting for an answer. The boys are still in bed. Eddie looks like he just woke up with his frazzled hair hanging into his face, lying half on top of Steve, rubbing his eyes. ‘Just five more minutes’, Steve grumbles, refuses to turn and get up.

It’s her Birthday, sure, and he promised her food she absolutely, definitely needs to soak up the remaining alcohol in her system – but she can give him another five minutes.

When she returns (exactly five minutes later), she captures Eddie and Steve still in bed. Eddie’s lips grazing the skin on his mole-speckled back with a dreamy look in his eyes, while Steve sighs in defeat ‘Alright, Robs. You win.’

The shutter clicks just before he turns around to throw a pillow at her head, causing Eddie to tumble to the side and nearly topple off the bed.

Polaroid #3

Robin sorts through the pile of polaroid pictures she’s taken over the last two weeks:

Steve and Eddie dancing in the kitchen to some dorky love song.

Steve resting between Eddie’s thighs where they lie cuddled up on the sofa, Eddie reading his favourite book to Steve.

Eddie trying and failing to make a handstand, Steve beside him, holding his belly from laughing so hard.

A picture of all three of them on Robin’s birthday, faces covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup after devouring their pancakes like starving animals.

Eddie with his guitar in his lap, Steve sitting on the floor across from him. They share a loving look, eyes full of desire and devotion.

And then- Robin startles in shock. How did that get in here?

She knows she didn’t take that picture. She couldn’t have. Not with the way she already feels the deep blush creeping up her face because- Jesus! That’s entirely too personal. She feels like she’s invading their privacy just by looking at that. This surely isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but theirs.

It’s not like they’re visibly naked but the position of their bodies leaves literally no room for speculations. One of Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s throat  and Steve looks like- well, he looks absolutely fucking blissful. Robin can practically hear the soft moans escaping his parted lips (How she knows what he sounds like, you ask? They swore to never ever talk about that incident ever again).

It looks like Eddie is kissing him. Or maybe he licks his skin. Maybe he whispers some dirty words into his ear, tells him how he’s going to wreck him – who knows? The point is, Robin doesn’t want to know because as much as she adores them, as much as she’s been prying on their sweet moments over the past weeks, there are things that should be kept between them.

She’s going to frame it and surprise them with it. (What she doesn’t know, is that Eddie sneaked that picture into her folder just to tease her. What she also doesn’t know is that there’s a whole collection of more of these kind of pictures hidden in a shoebox under their bed.)

[fangxin-guoshi]

Banana fish re-review ~

I did a rewatch of banana fish and oh my God I forgot how good this series was. Considering the original manga came out in the 80's in JAPAN, it was SO ahead of its time. One of the best depictions of gay characters I've ever seen in Japanese media, even by today's standards.

Some more silly thoughts:

Like yoshida just casually dropped a manga with an insanely progressive take on the bl genre by showing a complex queer interracial relationship with incredibly well-written characters. Honestly the fact that ash and eiji's relationship wasn't explicitly defined as romantic is a plus imo. Not being able to rely on obvious romantic gestures like kissing, hand-holding, romantic confessions, etc. actually forces the writer to develop their relationship without that crutch to lean on. That's why ash and eiji's relationship is so good, because it doesn't rely on surface-level romance to get across the fact that they love each other and instead use subtlety and little nuances in their interactions. It's obvious from the subtext and how much they're shown to care for each other.

Not to mention the great depiction of black characters (I know portraying black characters non-offensively is like, the bare minimum, but may I remind you this is the EIGHTIES in JAPAN, and there are so many CURRENT animes that have an issue with it).

I mean yea does it have its flaws? Sure. Ash's admittedly very lame "lynx" title that comes with many wildcat metaphors, eiji being a bit passive in the first half, sort of cringe portrayal of America, etc. but my God the way she handles the trauma and character dynamics is incredible.

Ok so I did have a uh... Not really a criticism but something that I noticed that got me thinking. I feel like some shows use dark subject matter as a bit of an easy way to evoke an emotional reaction from the audience. Sometimes authors give characters horrible backstories as a way to make the audience THINK the character is complex and interesting but in reality it's a bit of a lazy writing tactic. Low effort high reward kind of thing. Banana fish obviously does have brutal subject matter and ash is really put through the ringer, but I love that yoshida doesn't let that become the axis of his character. He has trauma that greatly impacts him, but he's also super developed on his own apart from that. When I think about Ash's character, I don't immediately think about the traumatic backstory parts. The balance between how significantly the trauma affects him vs making sure that's not the ONLY part of his character is extremely well-executed.

Scenes that stuck out to me (not including asheiji ones bc it goes without saying theyre all amazing)

- the interrogator playing Ash's tapes after being arrested ("later, movie star" was the most brutal line ever omg)

- max burning the photos of ash (underrated moment this was SO good),

- any and all interactions between sing and blanca (they're such an unlikely duo peak comedy right there)

- the convo between sing and yut lung in the last episode

- ash stabbing the guy in the dick with a fork

- callback to ^^^, ash stabbing the banana with a fork

- Ash's breakdown in front of dino (ep 19 I believe)

- the entirety of ash escaping from the "mental hospital" and then having to go rescue ibe and max lmaooo

- ash brutally murdering Abraham(?, the redhead guy) by blowing abt a thousand holes in him w a machine gun as payback for shorter

- ash shooting shorter

- running joke of max being Ash's dad

- everyone constantly manhandling yut lung by yanking on his hair (dude get a haircut)

- ash immediately going to shoot himself no hesitation after yut lung told him he wouldn't hurt eiji if he did so (technically asheiji but I'm keeping it since this was a yut lung and ash scene)

- "what does this picture look like?" "Your wife"

- eiji's cute stupid little outfit he wore when he went to go find shorter in Chinatown

I also have a confession:

I LOVE yut lung. Him being paralleled with ash, but instead of finding love he let hate consume him because he had no one unlike ash who had eiji was just devastating but in a good way.

So yea those are my messy thoughts after finishing it. I'd argue that it was probably one of the best pieces of queer media to exist at the time. In the world. And one of my personal favorite pieces of queer media ever.

[wastelandmoony]

Déjà Vécu: Antidote

Chapter Thirty-Four : Antidote

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Mentions of death/illness.

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

Companion Playlist

Read on AO3

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June 25th, 1979

Orion Black died in early Summer, 1979. Lily had called the apartment using the muggle phone, passing it quickly to a befuddled James who broke the news to her and Remus. She hated Sirius’ parents, all of them did, but the news of his father’s untimely demise sat uneasily in her stomach. Sirius had become a wildcard after Regulus’ disappearance over the holidays; moods ranging from complete apathy, to blissful dissociation, to boiling anger. The mystery surrounding his brother’s whereabouts ate away at him, though he would never admit it out loud. Instead of dealing with the emotions, Sirius threw himself into working for the Order, volunteering for any jobs that they needed. She knew he was overcompensating for the fact that he felt guilty for Reggie’s disappearance, that maybe if he was able to save at least one person out there, that it would somehow lift whatever weight was crushing him. 

She was the one to tell Sirius about his father’s passing, not wanting James or anyone else to have to deal with whatever outcome lied in wait. In the end though, Sirius did the last thing she had expected: he laughed. It wasn’t genuine, it wasn’t scary; it was sad. The sound of a boy who had always wanted a family to love him, the sound of lost possibilities and what if’s. Sirius’ laugh was hollow, and she would’ve preferred he screamed instead. All he said was “is that all?”, and before she could offer any condolences, Sirius had left the room to head over to another Order meeting. He never mentioned his father or Regulus again.

In stark contrast to Sirius’ aggressive dedication to the Order of the Phoenix, Peter on the other hand, had begun to miss more and more meetings. At first, the absence wasn’t noticeable, at least to everyone else except for her. Sirius and Remus just shrugged it off when she broached the subject one night, both offering excuses for their friend and convincing her it wasn’t strange. Something in her wasn’t buying it. 

Peter had been assigned to a patrol at the end of June, a relatively easy job, one that they all were expected to takes turns doing weekly. That particular night, Peter didn’t show. Sirius of course, jumped at the chance to be out in the field and avoid dealing with his own issues, so no harm, no foul. But that was enough for her. She needed to talk to Pete. 

———

Sirius was still asleep when she woke up an hour earlier to get ready for work. Remus was awake as usual, always up at the break of dawn doing Merlin-knows-what. He had coffee waiting the moment the sound of her shuffling reached his ears. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she told Remus the plan for the morning. Peter’s office was located on a separate floor than hers, one that was notoriously busier because of the amount of permits that were issued through his department. Rather than wait for him outside of his door where he could easily hide, she decided to cut him off at the floo entrance before there was even a chance of evading her by hopping into an elevator. Remus thought she was mildly insane, staring at her with raised eyebrows as he sipped his coffee. 

“Moons, don’t look at me like that. Pete’s being…something’s going on. I know it.”

He shook his head slightly, pushing off the counter. “I think he’s just preoccupied with shit at home, love. You’re doing the overprotective bit again.” 

She growled lowly as he placed a kiss to the top of the head and walked back to his room. Sighing, she downed the rest of the coffee and headed to the Ministry.

———

Everything about the Ministry of Magic was terrible. It was overly-crowded, a little on the pompous side aesthetically (in her opinion), and filled with a lot of fake people that liked to pretend they were making a difference. The greed ran rampant, something everyone was keenly aware of, but never spoke about. She enjoyed the idea of her job, and tried her best to help in whatever ways she could; but there was only so much she could do as an undersecretary. The directors above her were bored and unimaginative when it came to pushing for new initiatives and ways to actually assist lycanthropes to improve their quality of life, and they rarely listened to her unless she was asking them for a coffee order. But she stayed, and she told herself each day that it would get better. Today would not be one of those days.

Tapping her foot anxiously against the dark tiled floor of the floo hall entrance, she scanned the crowd of people arriving to the Ministry. Witches and wizards filed past her, yawning and straightening their robes before squeezing into gold elevators to shoot towards their respective offices. She searched for Peter eagerly, fighting the urge to escape to her own quiet desk away from the crowds of people. Finally to her right, she caught a glimpse of him bustling through the throngs, briefcase in hand. He looked exhausted. 

“Pete!” She called, trying to put on her cheeriest voice to not freak him out. He didn’t hear her over the murmur of the crowd, so she jogged after him to gently grab his arm. Pete flinched, and the movement sent a jolt of concern through her body as she stared back.

“Peter?” She furrowed her brows. 

He shook his head and exhaled. “Fuck, you scared me. What’re you doing?”

“Going to work, same as you,” she gave him a small smile. They walked together towards the elevator, and she gathered up the courage to broach the subject that loomed above them. 

“Pete?” She said softly as they boarded the lift. He looked at her with tired eyes; the usual blue muted and dull. “Is everything alright?”

He scoffed and focused his attention on the floor number buttons, “I’m fine. Why?”

She swallowed dryly. “You’ve been uh…” She had to choose her words wisely. The people waiting alongside them weren’t making this easy. “…you’ve been absent a lot recently. I’ve missed you.” 

He didn’t look at her, but she watched as his jaw clenched. “I’ve had some personal matters to attend to.”

“Is everything okay?”

Peter fell silent as they passed a few more floors, stopping every so often to let off more people until the two of them were the last ones in the elevator.

“They threatened my mum…” he murmured. 

Her stomach dropped. “Who did?”

“Death Eaters. They…they showed up to the house and said they’d kill us if we didn’t…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Was your dad there?” She could barely breathe. 

Pete stiffened, lifting his head to stare blankly ahead. “My dad’s been missing for weeks.”

Whatever resolve she had left washed away. Reaching out to touch his arm, she rasped out the only thing she could even think of saying. “What—what happened?”

A few more floors passed by.

He exhaled slowly, gripping the handle of his briefcase. “He borrowed money from someone. I guess he either didn’t know who he was involving himself with, or he just didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t been able to find a job y’know, not since he lost his one with the Ministry. The stupid bastard never had a way of paying it back, and then one day he just…didn’t come home. A few days later, three blokes showed up on our doorstep with their wands drawn, demanding my mum pay for his debt.” 

The two of them stood in silence for a few moments. Both unsure of how to navigate the waters they were currently drowning in. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know you can talk to me, Pete,” she whispered.

Peter shook his head, “I only ever see you at meetings. You three moved in together and forgot about your other friends.”

She bristled at they way he wouldn’t even say Sirius and Remus’ names, “I see James and Lily almost every other day. Marlene and I have a weekly coffee date. We didn’t pull away, you did. Everything is shit right now, but at least we’re all working on something together. At least we have each other.”

The elevator dinged, and the golden gates opened. Peter didn’t turn around to look at her.

“Keep telling yourself that…” he said coldly as he stepped out. Her blood began to boil.

“Peter…” she called softly, still grasping at the frayed thread of their friendship.

The gates began to close, and she quickly shot out a hand to press the little button to keep them open.

“…You can’t beat him you know. None of you can,” he turned to glance back, eyes fixed toward the floor, “He’s too powerful.”

She shook her head slowly, trying to process the words coming out of his mouth, out of Peter’s mouth, out of one of her oldest friend’s mouth. The elevator chimed, gates attempting to shut as she pressed the button once again.

“It’s not just about winning the war Pete,” she tried to keep her voice steady, “It’s about creating a new, more inclusive world.” 

He flicked his gaze to her, freezing her to the core. Peter wasn’t there anymore. The person staring back was someone she’d never met before.  

“For who?” He murmured.

Before she could get the words out, the elevator gates slammed shut, and she stared helplessly through the bars. 

“…for all of us,” she exhaled quietly, sinking back against the cold interior wall as the elevator ascended, and watched as Peter slipped away.

———

June 30th, 1979

Sirius needed a fucking hobby. When he wasn’t doing countless patrols or whoring himself out to the Order, he was at the apartment watching the muggle television she had bought at a secondhand shop. She was becoming concerned that his mind would begin to rot if he watched any more episodes of Coronation Street. Remus had tried unplugging it, figuring that Sirius was too muggle-ignorant to understand how to plug it back into the outlet, but he was pleasantly surprised when his best friend was desperate enough to spend an hour figuring it out by himself. Sirius had been so pleased at his own “genius” (as he put it), that he had made it a point to call James on the muggle phone to explain to him how he did it (she had heard Lily cackling through the receiver). 

Dumbledore and Kingsley weren’t stopping Sirius from volunteering for missions, even though she had asked in private a few times. Each one was becoming more and more dangerous and he didn’t seem to care, much to her devastation. He was heading down a path of self destruction slowly, and she couldn’t watch the man she loved fall away. So she called the one person that he seemed to admire more than James or Fleamont Potter: her father.

A week after the secret phone call was placed, she sat on the couch beside Sirius as he flipped through channels on the television, carding a hand through his hair idly; he let out a contented hum as she scratched at his scalp lightly. The sound of a car horn from outside the apartment made her smile, standing up and pulling Sirius to his feet. 

“Where are we going?” He raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “Moony is home, so unless you want him to hear—“

“Don’t be crass,” she hissed with a grin, “Just…trust me.”

Sirius smirked and followed her lead, heading outside and down the stairs to the alleyway. Her dad waited below, smiling triumphantly at them as they descended. 

“Hey kiddo,” he said, hugging her tightly.

She smiled hopefully, “You brought it?” Her dad nodded once, looking over at Sirius.

Sirius wasn’t smiling anymore, now just standing completely still with a rather uneasy look on his face. Her dad walked down the alley towards where his car was parked, and she rejoined Sirius’ side.

“Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” He muttered under his breath nervously.

“You’ll see,” she grinned, practically vibrating out of her skin. 

The sound of an engine roared down the alley, and she felt Sirius go rigid beside her, recognizing immediately what it was. He looked over at her with wide eyes, then back to the end of the alley where a black motorcycle was riding towards them. As it came to a stop in front of the stairs, she beamed at Sirius. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the bike; just staring and staring at it until her dad shut it off and walked over towards him.

“It’s all yours son, take care of it, alright?” He clapped Sirius on the shoulder, and she could’ve sworn he was on the verge of tears. 

“It’s…it’s mine?” Was all he managed. Her dad nodded, handing him the keys. “How did you—“

Her dad shrugged, “Friend of mine was selling it. This one—“ he motioned towards her, “—called me and said you could use a hobby. Figured you could give it a good home.”

Sirius stared at the key in his hand, then slowly walked towards the motorcycle and ran a hand against the seat. 

“Turn it on, see how it feels,” her dad encouraged. Sirius looked back at him, still in a mild stupor, and swung a leg over the bike to sit and turn the key. The engine roared to life once more, and she watched as Sirius’ breath visibly hitched at the sound. Her father walked over and showed him some basic things, like the throttle, the brakes, the gear shift; all of which Sirius absorbed with the same fascination of a baby learning how to walk for the first time. When they were done, Sirius stalked over and grabbed her face with both hands, kissing her deeply. 

“Have I ever told you,” he whispered against her lips, “that you’re the single most beautiful human being on this planet.” 

She laughed softly, “I take it you like your new toy?”

Sirius groaned, kissing her once more, “You have no idea.”

Smiling broadly, she turned to walk up the stairs to go back inside, eager to give them time to play around. “I’ll leave you both to it. Thanks again, Dad.”

At the top of the stairs, she turned to see him teaching Sirius something about the engine, and the smile on Sirius’ face could rival the light of the sun.

———

August 22nd, 1979

The call came on a perfect summer afternoon. Sirius was out in the alley working on his motorcycle as he had been doing almost every day since he had gotten it. He had somehow gotten the idea to make it fly, and was trying to work out a way to charm it, much to her vehement protesting. Remus and her were lounging in the living room, reading their respective books in comfortable silence. The Velvet Underground played softly from the record player in the corner of the room, and the smell of coffee and Remus’ lit cigarette hung in the air. Things were good. Things were…normal.

The sound of the muggle phone ringing pierced the air, and Remus shot her a look over the top of his book that threatened violence if he had to get up. She rolled her eyes and kicked him lightly as she got up and made her way to the kitchen.

“Hiya!” She called into the receiver happily.

There was a pause on the other end that immediately sent her world tilting.

“Lily? Jamie?”

A soft sniff came through, followed by Lily’s wavering voice, “Can I…can you put Sirius on?”

“Lily, is everything okay?” 

Another gut wrenching pause. 

“Please…it’s urgent…”

She didn’t waste any more time, setting down the phone and rushing out the door to find Sirius. Remus had put his book down when they got back into the apartment, sitting upright on the couch watching as they walked inside. Sirius made a beeline for the kitchen, while she hung back and looked at him helplessly.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked quietly.

All she could manage was a shake of her head before they heard the choked cry from the kitchen. Sirius was crouched on the floor when she got there, head in his hands as tears streamed down his face. The phone was cast aside on the counter, and she could hear Lily softly crying on the other end. Remus stood in the doorway watching with a pained expression, leaning over to pick up the receiver and talk to Lily. She cupped Sirius face and turned him towards her as she knelt beside him.

“Love, what’s happening, talk to me…”

Sirius’ face crumpled as he let out another sob, “Effie and Monty…”

She looked up at Remus, just as he covered his own mouth as he listened to Lily explain that James’ parents had passed that morning.

———

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter’s funeral was held on a bright sunny day without a cloud in the sky. It seemed violently unfair that the entire world was not in mourning; that the sky didn’t open up and cry alongside the rest of them. But then again, Effie and Monty wouldn’t have wanted it that way. They would’ve wanted the warmth, and the sunshine, and for their friends and family to all be together. All of the people in attendance seemed to be in the same state of shock. Most had seen the Potter’s within the past few weeks, but apparently Dragonpox only needed 48 hours. No one knew where they’d contracted it, only that it had taken 37 hours for them both to succumb. Effie went first, Monty less than thirty minutes later. 

The only time she had seen James cry was on his wedding day, and that was a different emotion entirely. She couldn’t bear to see him like this, the shuddering sobs that ripped through his body during the eulogy where he recanted the memory of his dad teaching him to fly; of how his mother would sing to him every night as a child, and how he could still remember every word of her songs. He held onto Sirius fiercely, the two of them crying together as brothers while her and Lily held hands so tightly that her fingers almost went numb. The rest of the Order was there too, everyone paying their respects to the two people that felt like the glue that held this entire existence together. 

When they got home that night, Sirius clung to her in bed, sobbing uncontrollably. He’d lost the only family he ever acknowledged, the only ones he’d ever loved, the only ones that ever cared for him in return. She held him until he fell asleep, whispering repeated I love you’s and I’m sorry’s as she combed through his hair gently. Once his breathing evened out, she allowed herself to cry; for Effie and Monty, but also for him. She cried for Sirius, who had just lost the only parents he had ever known. 

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@otterlockholmes

[elysianymph]

going insane pls tell me anything about the unexplored sibling dynamics

i'm... literally so sorry anon. you probably didn't expect this monstrosity of text when you so innocently sent this ask but i wrote this late at night and i guess i had more feelings about these mfs than i thought i did... huh

the evans sisters?? stop and consider for a moment. they grew up in a lower middle class family, father was always out for work, mother stayed at home and took care of them and the house. lily and petunia were all for each other, sisters, best friends. and then lily's magic started showing. one year their mom's flowers hadn't bloomed like they usually do and their mom was understandably upset. petunia tried everything she knew about gardening in hopes of fixing the flowers and lily just willed them to open with the wave of a hand. she jumped up in excitement and ran to her mom to tell her what had just happened while petunia stared at the flowers in shock, trying to figure out what lily had just done so she could too. but it never worked for her like it did for lily.

their parents thought it was strange at first, a coincidence or dumb luck whenever lily pulled some trick, but petunia knew and she tried so hard to replicate it, to no avail. eventually the jealousy turned into resentment, curios questions turned into insults every time lily would do something. lily was so confused because she hadn't done anything? she tried to not do it anymore, even if she herself didn't know how she was doing it, but her magic only grew stronger and petunia's insults became more intense. when lily received her hogwarts letter, she was so excited to finally be surrounded by people like her. her parents congratulated her, her mother kissed her temple and her father promised they would take her shopping to get everything she needed. petunia only glared at her, muttering how she would finally be together with the freaks where she belonged.

petunia never sent any letters to lily while she was at hogwarts, at least not on her own accord. lily would send her birthday gifts every year, something she had made herself. a happy birthday card that was charmed to sing when it opened, a sparkling bouquet of flowers charmed to never close. every year without fail petunia would send the birthday gift back, either untouched or ripped to shreds. lily never gave up trying.

i genuinely believe lily's relationship with petunia fundamentally shaped her understanding of the world. the closest person to you, the one meant to protect you and love you, shunning you and leaving you to fend for yourself? it's no wonder lily clung to the first bit of kinship she sensed in severus and refused to let go of him even when everyone told her to. because he was always there for her and she wouldn't dare leave him behind (not like petunia had). also just a personal hc for lily, but i think she trouble making female friends specifically because of how her relationship with petunia had deteriorated. like in my head she had severus and no one else until like... fourth year maybe when she finally started coming out of her shell and became friends with mary and marlene

lily never stopped loving petunia, she knew harry would go to her and she still trusted petunia enough to protect her son. yet petunia did the exact opposite. i wanna put her under a microscope because how does it get that bad??? how do you let your childish jealousy take over your life to the point where you neglect and abuse an innocent child - your own nephew??? you don't stop being a sister just because the other half is dead, but i think petunia had stopped seeing herself as lily's sister long before lily died.

everyone talks about the black brothers but the black SISTERS??? arguably even more interesting bc you have more dynamics to explore bc they're all so different but in the end they're one in the same.

they were all raised to be obedient and quiet, their last name meaning nothing but an easy way to marry them off because continuing the bloodline was all they were good for. bellatrix was always loud, even as a child, because she was taught her family was superior and she couldn't understand why she wasn't treated the way she deserved to be. did her family name mean nothing just because she wasn't a male heir? did her extensive knowledge in magic mean nothing because the only way she could make her parents proud was by becoming a wife and a mother? why was she punished for the same behaviors her male counterparts were rewarded for? bella never thought to question blood purity as it was ingrained in her since birth, but the roles that she was forced to play didn't seem noble to her.

andromeda was quieter in comparison, but never far too behind bellatrix, always nodding along and eager to make her older sister proud. the seeds of doubt in her mind were planted later at hogwarts and she foolishly asks questions, only getting punished in response. when she's pushed away by her mother, she turns to the one person who would never hurt her for her curiosity but even her sister can give her no further answer than "father said so". frustrated and disappointed, andromeda closes in on herself and seeks her own answers, coming to conclusions that make the entire foundation of her family fall apart.

narcissa was the "perfect daughter", the one that would only speak when spoken to, the one that could walk into a room unnoticed and leave without anyone saying a single word to her. she was a slytherin, engaged to the malfoy heir at 16, she had practically completed all of her duties by then and proved to be useful. but she was also bella and andy's little sister, the one hiding behind them so no one could see her, the one tugging on their sleeves when she felt anxious, the one braiding flowers into their hair when she was bored, the one watching silently as both of her sisters drifted away and she was left alone.

andromeda leaving is such a heartbreaking moment to me because i think both bellatrix and narcissa knew it would happen, they had seen the signs but had never known the cause. i think bellatrix tried to to stop her from going through with it, tried to convince her to stay, to explain what was troubling her because bellatrix was her older sister, she could help, that was her job. and andromeda pushes her away because she knows bellatrix would never look at her again if she told her what was troubling her. when the truth is finally revealed, the only question bella can muster is: "do you trulu love him more than your own family?" and andromeda's silence is enough of an answer. she refuses to be like her mother, like bellatrix is soon to become, like narcissa will be forced to, a wife stuck in a loveless marriage with children she didn't want. ted loves her and she loves ted, that love means more than the conditional affections she was given in her family.

that action, the betrayal of choosing someone of dirty blood over her own sisters had surely left a mark on both bellatrix and narcissa. narcissa attempted to get closer to bellatrix again, tried to provide some comfort and familiarity but bellatrix was inconsolable. she fled england completely, choosing instead to focus on her magic as her mind slowly closed in on itself. and narcissa was left alone again, her only solace a marriage she forced herself to pretend would make her happy, would fill the void of what her sisters had destroyed.

and so many years later, you can tell the wound never closed. narcissa, who watched as everything unfolded without daring to interfere, looking the dark lord in the eyes and lying to protect her family because she understands andromeda now, nothing is worth losing the ones you love and the ones who love you. her son looks toward her for protection and she will provide it in any way she can, because her son's life means more than anything the dark lord could ever offer.

bellatrix, who has never dared to go against voldemort's orders, bending the rules and allowing narcissa to protect her son because somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered "what if she leaves like andromeda did? what if she chooses her new family over you too?" and narcissa did, she turned her back in the last battle and left without sparring a single glance.

i know people only made evan and pandora siblings out of convenience so they could give pandora a last name but YOU COWARDS! if you're gonna make them siblings then make them siblings!! i have an entire background on their family but that's too complicated to explain here but GIVE ME SOMETHING INTERESTING WITH THEM??? wartime rosier twins who never see each other but evan insists on writing letters bc he misses his sister so much?? pandora missing him too but she doesn't know what to do because the same hands that are writing these letters are holding innocent people at wand point and using unforgivable curses?? PANDORA'S REACTION TO EVAN'S DEATH??? helllooooo???

+ i know that the black brothers have been explored plenty but i still think their relationship has been softened?? ig. like we've stripped these characters down to their bare bones trying to make them good people when they don't need to be?? give me black brothers who love each other but hate each other all in the same breath. black brothers who strive to prove themselves better than the other. black brothers who see the other as a personification of their worst traits (sirius sees regulus as a coward (literally canon) and regulus sees sirius as a traitor). give me sibling resentment because i wholeheartedly believe they were pit against each other by walburga and orion.

sirius was smarter, better, more powerful, more charismatic than regulus. he was raised to he the perfect heir, the one to continue the bloodline of the most noble house, he was raised to think himself better than the rest. regulus was the spare, the 'worst case scenario' child, the one that struggled to live up to the fraction of his brother's natural talent and skill. give me sirius knowing he's better and throwing it in regulus' face. give me regulus manipulating sirius into leaving so he can be the true heir. give me regulus grieving for sirius only after he realizes what he has lost, but never reaching out, even when he finds the locket. regulus, who has spent his whole life trying to outshine sirius knowing it was a pointless battle, taking this one action into his own hands and doing the brave thing alone. give me sirius, almost two decades later, still bitter and disappointed as he passes by his dead brother's door refusing to even glance inside, because the resentment (and the grief of what could've been) never truly wears away.

anyone who read this far deserves a medal bc i would've taken one look at this post and said "i ain't reading all that" so thank you <3

[literary-motif]

V. Les Aubes Sont Navrantes

In which an unexpected guest ruins Xanthus' pretence. ~3,600 words

Warnings: memory manipulation

Overview // IV. The Abyss Also Stares Into You

You awoke with a start. 

The darkness was still heavy, with no indication of the dawn being near. As you looked into the inky blackness, your heart beating frantically as the nightmare slowly bled from your mind, you longed for nothing more than the dawn’s soft rays and its gentleness to chase away the horrors of the night. 

Your sleep was troubled. 

The encounter with Mr. Fint and his warning the night prior would not leave your mind. Caressing the fabric of your night clothes, you thought of its twin fluttering on the roof. 

The air of the estate was suffocating you with an evil you were only now beginning to comprehend but for which you still could not find sufficient cause.

The mystery of the picture Mr. Fint had shown you felt like a faraway dream. Had it been real at all? You were in a daze during that time. Perhaps you had imagined the whole thing? It seemed too absurd to be true, and yet— 

What was the cause of the hostility between Xanthus and his meager staff? Did they know something you did not? Did they suspect something? Had they completed a puzzle you were only slowly finding the pieces to?

You went through the night’s events in your mind — the iron grip on your shoulders as you looked down the tower, the searing kiss against your lips, the peacefulness you had felt on the lake, the hunger in Xanthus’ eyes as he looked at you.

Retrieving a box of matches, you struck one to light the candle on the nightstand. In the dim light, you checked the time on your pocket watch. It was three in the morning. You sighed, too restless to fall asleep but too tired to do anything substantial. 

You dressed slowly, opening the window over the desk and looking out into the darkness. 

There was a stillness particular to mornings that allowed for self-reflection. Time hardly seemed to pass in the early hours, and it was only in these seemingly frozen moments that you allowed yourself to feel the heaviness of the letter folded neatly in your right pocket. 

The best-kept secrets were those close to oneself. You inhaled the cold morning air, fighting the urge to light a cigarette.

Could you trust Xanthus? 

Infatuation had a way of creating illusions, and you feared you had allowed him to get too close to you already. Had you disregarded Lady Alderton’s warning because of your blind curiosity and the easy escape he had offered from a life you never wanted to return to?

A brief respite was a break nonetheless. Still, you felt you should heed the warnings Mr. Fint had so adamantly conveyed. Something told you he was right to urge you to leave, and you had better listen this time before it was too late.

The thought of returning to London made your heart heavy. With Xanthus’ kiss fresh in your memory and the security of darkness, you allowed yourself to recall a love confession uttered there some five years ago. 

What was love, after all, but a disappointment to your parents?

You had wanted to leave the city with him and start anew in Paris, where you thought things would be simpler. Nobody would know you there, not personally. Nobody would bat an eye at your discrepancy in social rank. You had offered him a way out of his bleak life when you extended your invitation for him to accompany you on your travels. 

“Have you lost your mind?” he had hissed in the dark alley, pointing an accusing finger at you as his eyes blazed with an anger you had rarely seen. “I don’t expect someone as disgustingly privileged as yourself to understand, but I have responsibilities here. I can’t just leave! What happens to my mother? You know she is sick. Do you think I will just let her die? What about my sisters? Do you think my father will care for them when he finishes his bottle? I am all they have! I cannot be as selfish as you and leave everything behind! This is insanity!”

The air had turned stale in the city. You could no longer breathe in London, but that did not mean you wanted to be alone. You longed to leave your life behind, but not him.

“I love you,” you had said, selfishly hoping that would be reason enough. 

He had scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as hurt and rage shone in his eyes at your poor attempt at manipulation. “I never want to see you again,” he had said, turning away from you.

You clenched your fists, watching his retreating back as you wracked your brain to get him to stay, to be with you, to leave with you. 

“I will pay you,” you had called out. 

He had stopped in his tracks. 

“Your family will get an allowance. Your mother, your sisters — I do not care. I will make sure they are looked after. They will be provided for if you come with me.”

He had whirled around. The hatred in his expression caused you to step back in shock. 

“No!” he had yelled, face twisted in seething rage and utter disgust at you. “Never! Not for all the money in the world would I leave them behind to be with you!” He had stormed away, disappearing from your view forever and taking a piece of your heart with him. 

You struck a match, watching the flame flicker as you lit the candles in the drawing room. The canvas with all your painting supplies was where you had left it, waiting for your return. 

With the sketches you had made on the boat to use as reference, you continued Xanthus’ portrait. This way, he would only need to pose for a few more hours for you to give the painting the finishing touches it needed. You might leave today already or tomorrow at the latest. 

The estate was not good for you. 

It dug up things you would rather keep buried. Memories tugged on your mind, images flashed behind your eyelids that threatened to lift a coffin that had long been sealed. What was it about the mansion that clung to the past?

Was it the stained glass window? The old architectural style of centuries past? Were it the prayers seeped into the walls from people long dead? Was it the spirit of the catholic guilt desperately clinging to sins committed and long since absolved? 

Was it your host, filling the air around him with a foreign antiquity? Was it he himself who did not belong in the present, a relic of the past that should not have endured this much?

Or was it your own inability to let go of the past, ever chasing as you grew weary of running? It was licking your heels, only a pace behind, no matter how fast you tried to outrun it. 

It was gaining on you. 

You had already completed the details of the background and were nearly done with the expression of mischievous severity on his face when the gardener walked in. 

You looked at her. She stared back, blowing out the candle burning uselessly. 

Too engaged in your work, you had not noticed the sun streaming abundantly through the windows. She continued to eye you closely. You clenched your jaw, continuing your work. You were too tired for the ominous feeling settling over you again. 

The shade of red in his eyes was not quite right, you noticed, making it darker until it was almost blood red. Rosaria startled you out of your thoughts again by placing a pot of garlic flowers on the table beside you. An odd choice. You returned to painting as you caught a whiff of smoke rising from the remaining candles she was blowing out.

When you were adding onto the lines of his hair, you were interrupted again by a gentle knock, only to find the man himself standing in the doorway. You had not heard him approach. 

“Would you like to have breakfast with me?” Xanthus asked. 

You declined, accepting only his offer of tea. 

“There is no need for you to sit yet,” you said as he handed you the cup. You noticed his disdainful glance towards the garlic flowers. “Feel free to take your time with breakfast.”

“No need,” he said smoothly, “I had an excellent dinner.” Walking up behind you, he leaned over your shoulder to look closely at the painting. 

“I am nearly done,” you said, sipping your tea before setting the cup aside and continuing the detail of his hair. “Now it may wither and distort while you remain forever young, beautiful, and untouched by your sins,” you said, only half joking as you remembered Mr. Fint’s picture. 

You suppressed a shudder as he leaned closer, hoping he could not hear the hitch in your breath. 

“I do not need a portrait to do that,” he said dryly, with a tone so serious it made your blood run cold. You did not comment on it, afraid of what he would answer. He took his seat in the armchair. 

You cleared your throat, taking another sip of your tea as your mouth went dry. “This will be done today,” you said, motioning to the painting. “I will take my leave this evening if I may.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you saw his eyes crinkle in amusement. He opened his mouth to reply but frowned, the playfulness in his expression turning into confusion before morphing into annoyance. 

His gaze darted towards the drawing room door. There was nothing there, but he sighed as if his favorite game had been ruined.

A door fell shut heavily. Footsteps approached. A moment later, a tall man stood in the doorway, shooting Xanthus a dazzling smile. 

“Lawrance!” the stranger greeted cheerily, opening his arms wide. 

Lawrence? 

You blinked. Surely—?

Xanthus remained seated, looking at him in annoyance.

“Come on,” he said with a pout, “I travel across the Atlantic to visit my favorite vampire, and I don’t even get a hug? Unacceptable.”

Vampire? Your eyes widened.

“Dontis,” Xanthus greeted monotonously, pursing his lips in displeasure. “Do you know how boring it is when I have to compel them? Now look” — he complained, motioning at you. He rolled his eyes at your shocked expression as you slowly put the pieces together he had been dangling in front of you since the very beginning — “you’ve revealed the mystery already.”

You stood frozen, eyes darting between Xanthus and Dontis, trying to make sense of it all. Xanthus was Lawrance. They are the same person. Mr. Fint was right. The photograph showed him looking the same today as he did forty years ago, maybe longer. 

How old was he? What— a vampire?

“I go by Xanthus nowadays,” he said, looking pointedly at Dontis, whose eyes fixed on you. He had not noticed you before, his expression almost regretful.

“Apologies, Xanthus,” he said, turning to look at him. 

You backed away in horror, eyes landing on the garlic flowers. You picked them up and held them out in front of you protectively. Rosaria knew more than you. They were some sort of protection, you hoped.

Xanthus muttered a curse, setting down his cup of tea. He rose from his seat. 

“No,” you said shakily, pressing your back against the glass door. The panic was rising, turning you numb with fear. You fumbled with the handle, not daring to take your eyes off Xanthus’ approaching form.

The garlic flowers did not work as he stepped closer and closer. 

Your heartbeat was deafening to your ears. You heard nothing but the rushing of blood, making you feel dizzy. The door would not budge. You could not think clearly. 

“Stay—” you choked, letting the flowers tumble to the floor as you took a thick book instead, raising it threateningly. “Stay back,” you warned, your voice sounding faint. “Stay back, I say. I am not afraid to use—”

Xantus was not deterred, backing you further into a corner. 

You lunged at him with the book, trying to hit him. He slapped it out of your hands. You yelped, attempting to run. He caught you, holding onto your shoulders tightly and forcing your fearful gaze to meet his. 

“Forget this conversation and continue painting!”

Your brush hovered over the canvas. 

“Let’s try that again,” Xanthus muttered, sitting down in the armchair and motioning for something. You were about to ask what he meant when a tall man stepped into the room. 

“Xanthus, what a pleasure,” he greeted cheerfully, his eyes finding you. “I did not know you had company, my friend.” 

“Dontis, this is my portraitist,” Xanthus said, motioning toward you and looking pointedly at him.

You inclined your head towards Dontis. “Hello, it’s a pleasure,” you said politely, returning his warm smile. “We can take a break if you would like to catch up in private?” you asked, looking at Xanthus.

“That will not be necessary,” he said, motioning for Dontis to take a seat. “Speak freely, please. What brings you to England? Unannounced, might I add.”

“A change of scenery, really,” he said, pouring himself a cup of tea. “I was pulled towards here, you could say. There was no time to waste when such a call comes over one. You understand I’m sure.”

Xanthus grunted in agreement, his displeasure at Dontis’ interruption not lessened by the explanation. “When are you leaving?”

Dontis clicked his tongue, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “I love what you have done with the place,” he said instead, gesturing around the room. “The last time I was here, High Gothic was all the rage.” 

You froze, letting out a quiet gasp. 

Either Dontis did not know anything about architectural history, or he was over six centuries old. The latter was entirely impossible, you thought, raising your eyes from the canvas to glance at him. He looked about as old as Xanthus.

“The cathedral was lovely,” he continued, and your heart picked up in confusion. 

Xanthus had told you the estate had been repurposed centuries ago. 

Your hand shook, the blond strand of hair you painted coming out crooked. You tried to keep calm, thankful the two of them were on the other side of the room and could not hear your quiet gasps. 

“I prefer it like this, however. It feels—”

“Dontis!” Xanthus hissed, cutting him off with a glare. “They are quite the architectural enthusiast, and I can hear their heartbeat from here without special hearing when you declare confidently that you were here last in the 13th century. Forget the last few seconds and continue painting!”

Your brush hovered over the canvas. 

The silence in the room was tense. Dontis cleared his throat awkwardly while Xanthus continued to glare at him. His eyes found yours, an expression akin to pity in them. 

“I can recommend Paris for a true change of air,” you said lightly, breaking the silence and trying to elevate some of the tension. Drawing room conversations were not your forte, but you had plenty of experience with maneuvering society and suffering through meaningless small talk. 

Dontis sipped his tea, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. 

“It has blossomed in the last few years, especially in the fields of art,” you continued, making conversation. You frowned, cursing your absentmindedness for having red on your brush when touching up on the hair. 

You blinked, eyes darting across the painting. When had you done the lips? You had to be more exhausted than you thought.

Xanthus scoffed. “Perhaps Greece instead,” he added disinterestedly, clearly abhorring the light chatter you tried to fill the silence with. His eyes lit up with a glint when he saw you squirm at the mention of the country. “Your parents seemed taken with it, no?”  

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes fixed on the canvas and missing Dontis' questioning look. “It is a beautiful country,” you rasped, continuing to paint and hoping he would not catch you in a lie with your mind scrambled from sleep deprivation.

“So beautiful some people might trip over themselves to leave old England in a hurry to get to it,” he said, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Would you like some more?” he asked, nodding as you declined. “Some society gossip instead, perhaps?”

“I am not one for gossip, Xanny. You know—”

“It is rather amusing, really,” he interrupted, smirking with the mischievousness a cat might have when toying with a mouse. 

He had given up on this round as well, the novelty of compelling you fading away until his inhibition was nearly gone.

“Imagine my surprise when, upon coming to a soiree, I hear siblings recount a nearly identical story, down to the word choice, with only one key detail being different.” 

You felt your heart drop. Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his gaze. 

How long had he known? You swallowed thickly, the evening’s conversations flashing through your mind as you tried to figure out what detail separated your story from Theodore’s and how you could fix this.

“Do you not remember?” Xanthus asked with a condescending chuckle. 

When had this rift appeared between you? Had he been pretending to be fond of you since the evening of the soiree only to toy with you? Was this what Lady Alderton meant when she had warned you that he took souls? 

“Who of them is sick?” he asked. 

You opened your mouth to reply immediately but hesitated at the last second. Your mother, you wanted to say, but you were not certain anymore. 

What had Theodore said when you had hatched the plan? He had been complaining of an ache in his bones. It was your father. You gasped quietly, remembering how you had spoken of your mother’s illness at the soiree.

Xanthus laughed at your terrified expression. “An important detail one would think their child would remember. Liar.” 

He turned to Dontis, who was staring into his tea as if trying to hide from the uncomfortable conversation. 

“Let me tell you what happened,” Xanthus said, chuckling as you shook. “Their parents left London without a word. To save face, they and their siblings constructed a scheme of them having gone to Greece — Athens or Crete, the accounts differ. I can only imagine they are waiting for the right time to forge a letter announcing their deaths to ward off a scandal.”

Before you could even begin to utter a word of protest to the secret you wanted to keep hidden—

“Forget the last few seconds.”

Dontis hummed disinterestedly. “I do not care for gossip, Xanthus.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, leaning back in the armchair with his tea, savoring the taste of the Chinese blend he had found stored away.

You blinked a few times. Xanthus had broken his pose when you had been paying close attention to the curve of his mouth not a moment ago. 

Touching the brush to the canvas, you cursed under your breath as you painted a streak of brown on his lips. A sense of déjà vu hit you, turning the scene hauntingly familiar.

Dontis rose, setting down his cup on the coffee table and walking over to you with a gentle smile. He stood beside you, his gaze flickering from the painting to Xanthus, a dark scowl on his face. 

“You are very talented,” he said, leaning over your shoulder to catch your eye. He shot you a playful grin. “I must say,” he began, looking at Xanthus, “I see a small smile on the canvas. Perhaps give us another one for reference.”

His glare hardened.

“Alright,” Dontis said, raising his hands in surrender. “I am sure your— your victim of the hour can paint it without a frame of reference.”

You frowned. 

Xanthus was peculiar and rather reclusive, but you did not consider yourself a victim for being in his company nor for being on his beautiful estate. You contemplated jumping to your host’s defense but settled on chuckling awkwardly at what you decided had been a joke.

Xanthus was not in the mood for Dontis’ teases. “They are my meal,” he said sternly. “Get your own.”

Your eyes widened, and you stuttered in confusion. 

He groaned, having slipped up this time himself.

“Come now,” Dontis said, “I have had a long trip. A little familiarity with them should not spark your jealousy too much, should it?”

“They are mine. Forget the last few seconds.”

Dontis backed away, putting more space between you as he sat back down. “Pity,” he grunted, raising the tea to his lips.

Your mind was scattered, and you sighed in frustration as it kept happening — blue in the eyes, white on his jacket, and red on his hands.

You were shaken, beginning to doubt your memory. What was happening to you? 

Had the reminder of your lost love truly stunned you so much? It had been years! Was it the kiss? Was it the picture you had seen? 

“Pardon me,” you muttered, setting down the brush. You turned your back to the two men, slipping out through the glass door to get a fresh breath of air as you felt a headache approaching. You needed a cigarette.

Painting was a composition during which you kept every minuscule detail in harmony. Never had you lost track of the color on your brush.

Annotations // VI. Vengeance Is Mine, I Will Repay

[nymph-ette111]

I’m happy to know you enjoy our interactions too and that you liked my little tangent there. I’m glad that you searched for accounts from actual people who have the disorder rather than pseudo-psychologists, because they are often the harshest without a shred of accuracy (just the way they talk about the narcissist’s eyes turning a demonic black is enough to make me exit the article).

To be fair, Quora is one of the worst places when it comes to accepting people with npd. So I’m glad you managed to find something that didn’t conclude in a pro-eugenics rant lead by a divorced dad who is certain his ex wife is a narcissist because she took the kids. And since I chose my first paper this school year to be about npd and gender (we could write about anything, it was to test our abilities in general), I had to go through a ton of those. They ranged from absolutely hilarious to restraining order worthy. Thankfully Google Scholar saved me from that (though I would never suggest reading studies upon studies on a topic for x reader headcanons, I’m only saying this to sort of validate where my understanding of it came from). Since, yk, it’s a relatively fresh thing (recognised since the 80s I believe) and the fact that I had a therapist who diagnosed me correctly and knew how to approach it is pure luck

Also just any dog metaphor is delightful but it fits so well with Toby too?? Like, it just feels so right when people do that. And I can genuinely see Jeff having some npd traits, good call^^

Ben is just so!!! He’s awful in the best way. I want to kiss him and also put him in a blender for fun :3 i want to drive him insane. And also hold hands maybe. Like, yeah, realistically I would lose my sanity if he liked me but he’s so fun

Also yeah, that’s why I like your blog so much. You don’t shy away from making them hard to be around, hurt, mean. All kinds of messed up but also fun to read about. That’s why I also said that they would probably have an easy time with hurting me mentally, bc if they were aware of just how paranoid I am they would absolutely do what I did in that friend example, only 10 times worse (like, specifically saying stuff they know gets a reaction out of me to force me to stay or do whatever). In all honesty, this might be just why I like creepypasta characters (especially this specific portrayal of them). I mean, it does fit into that type of ‚pleople may be nice but they are out to get you at all times so you need to act to survive’. It’s kind of a safe way to experience something that is both natural to me and also absolutely unsafe irl. Like, yeah, I would have to walk on eggshells to be with Toby but also that is the way I see any sort of relationship either way. Sometimes, I’m more uncomfortable with the pure fluff bc that feels fake and unnatural. On that note, Toby to me is so untreated-bpd coded

-⭐︎

Agreed Ben is so fucking stupid I want to gnaw on him and push him down the stairs, what a silly fella. You don't know how happy it made me when you said you liked my blog :') when I shared my first post I thought it wouldn't get any attention, and I would just end up deleting the blog all together so hearing someone actually enjoys these little headcanons I make about fictional serial killers is so nice <3

you said everything so perfectly I have nothing to add, and yes toby is fucking miserable any disorder he has is 100% untreated and yes I love him and yes I want him and—

[sebastianstangirl01]

Ok so this is just a random thought it would be cute to see Bradley/Rooster ( whatever you want to call him) teaching his daughter to play Great balls of fire like how Goose taught him

Like Father Like Daughter

Title: Like Father Like Daughter

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Wife Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Sophia Bradshaw

Summary: Rooster teaches your alls daughter Sophia how to sing Great Balls of Fire, just like his dad taught him

Warnings: none

After having your daughter Sophia you saw a spark light up in Bradley that you’ve never seen before. That man was made to be a father, regardless of his reserves he had because of his own fathers death when he was barley old enough to remember him. Bradley is the best father you’ve ever seen.

When Sophia was struggling with colic the first few months of her life Bradley insisted on you resting while he stayed up and soothed her, all night if he had to. When she started teething Bradley was there holding the teething ring rocking back and forth in the rocking chair.

Now little Sophia is five years old and Bradley has exceeded all of your expectations over the years, he always puts you and your daughter first even before flying. He and the rest of the dagger squad took permanent positions stationed at Top Gun at the North Island only flying select missions and working as instructors. Which meant that Bradley was able to be home with you and your growing family, which is especially important now that you’re six months pregnant with another little girl.

This pregnancy has been kicking your butt, you had gotten lucky and had a pretty easy pregnancy with Sophia but it seemed like your luck ran out just in time for your second pregnancy. You could barley get out of bed most days because how of exhausted you were, which meant Bradley had to step up even more and take care of both you and Sophia which he obviously did without complaint.

When you woke up this morning you were pleasantly surprised not to feel painful kicks to your bladder and aches in your lower back, hopefully that meant the little peanut was going to take it easy on you today. You yawned and reached over for Bradley but frowned when you felt a cold and empty sheet in his place.

You furrowed your brows and carefully pushed yourself out of bed careful not to jostle yourself too much in the process you got to the point in your pregnancy that you would sweat horribly at night and would become overheated so now you slept naked which Bradley had no problem with, you stood up and walked over to your dresser sliding on a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and one of Bradley’s tea shirts.

You started making your way down the hallway but paused at the top of the stairs when you heard Bradley playing that familiar tune on the piano in the living room. You tiptoed down the stairs and paused in the doorway smiling at the sight in front of you. Bradley was sitting in a pair of black sweatpants shirtless at the piano while Sophia was propped up on top of the piano still in her Cinderella nightgown with some serious bed head.

“Ok Soph one more time. Ready?” Bradley asked with a smile

“Play it Daddy!” Sophia squealed clapping her hands making you hide your chuckle with your palm, as Bradley hit the piano keys

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will. But what a thrill.” Bradley sung before nodding towards Sophia

“Goodness gracious great balls of fire!” They sung together as Sophia giggled clapping her hands

“Again! Again!” Sophia cheered

“How about we have some breakfast first my love?” You asked making your presence known, Sophia gasped with a giddy expression on her face making you smile

“Mommy!” Sophia squealed holding her arms out for you

You smiled and walked over to your small family, wrapping your arms around Sophia while she wrapped hers around your neck and kissed your cheek. Bradley smiled behind you and let his hand rest on your hip, rubbing circles on the exposed flesh where your shirt rode up.

“You want mommy to sing with us Peanut?” Bradley asked Sophia who eagerly nodded making you two laugh

“Only once, then breakfast.” You said and Sophia nodded

Bradley pulled you down onto his lap making you laugh and tighten your hold on Sophia to keep her from falling. Bradley kissed your shoulder before reaching around you both to run his fingers over the keys.

“One two three.” Bradley counted off

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will. But what a thrill. Goodness gracious great balls of fire!” You three sung together before irrupting in laughs

You knew that Goose had taught Bradley the song Great Balls of Fire on the piano before he died, somehow Bradley still remembered exactly how the song went. He loved introducing that song to you and then to Sophia when she was old enough and you knew that after this baby was born he would teach them too. And if you ever had any grandchildren he’d teach it to them too.

Taglist

@daughterofthereaper02

@luckyladycreator2

@calpurniatypes

@littlebadariell

@qnfluvr

@raefoxiegirl

@maverick-wingman

@avada-kedrava-bitch

[countrymusiclover]

16 - You Only Live Once

Part 17

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality

Opening my eyes I glanced around seeing that I was in some kind of store with an isle full of bourbon. Walking down the aisle I was confused as to how and what this place I needed up was exactly. I could hear someone chewing where I peaked my head around the corner seeing a guy with black hair and dark eyes. “I can feel you staring at me girl. Why not just show yourself fully.”

“Who the hell are you?” I kept my distance from him but walked out where he could see me all the way. There was something familiar about him I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

He chewed some chips from his bag. “Sorry manners, I’m Kai Parker. Pork Rind, now who exactly are you?”

“You’re Jo’s twin brother?” I blurted out feeling completely nervous around him now more than ever.

He stopped chewing his food, swaying the bag towards me, smirking up at me. “You know Josette, huh. How is she after she helped send me to this prison world. Now can I please know your name?”

“I’m not telling you anything, Kai.” I growled at him.

He quickly got to his feet grabbing my hands where I winced feeling him siphoning my magic with his hands turning red. “I thought we could do this the nice way but I guess not.”

I closed my eyes tightly seeing Esther performing her spell to kill her children until I grabbed her forearms. “Magia tollux de terras!” I declared gasping sharply feeling her energy running through her, but it was a lot more than I was ever used to.

"What the hell. You're a siphon too." Kai gasped before I drew my hands back, throwing him with my magic before everything went black.

Shooting my eyes opened I screamed frantically looking around the room seeing that I was back in one of the rooms of the Mikaelson mansion. Someone vamped in front of me holding my shoulders where I shot my gaze to the person meeting the blue orbs that belonged to Klaus. “Nik….oh my good. Where is he…where’s Kai!”

“Easy Raelyn. Just breathe for me.” He instructed me.

Shaking my head I gripped the bedsheets in my fingers with my chest heaving up and down still utterly terrified. “No, I saw him. Jo’s brother…it was in his prison world somehow. He’s gonna come after me, Nik!”

“Rae, stop for a second. Who the bloody hell is Kai. I don’t know who you are talking about.” He raised his brows at me clearly not following me.

“He’s not here….was I dead. I ….passed out with your blood in my system didn’t I?”

Klaus moved one his hands up wiping away fallen tears hating to see me cry. But it scared the living hell out of him to hear her almost on the edge of dying and not coming back either. “No you didn’t die. I rushed you back here and thankfully I got some blood in you before your heart gave out or you would have been in transition. Can you just take some deep breaths in and out for me. I’d like you to not be blaring your heart in my ear, sweetheart.”

“Uh sure sorry.” I gulped doing what he said slowly taking in some breaths feeling my heart and just chest not being as tight as they once were.

He kisses my forehead pulling my head into his chest where I gripped the dog tag necklace sniffing through some more tears staining part of his gray shirt. “That’s my girl. You’re here with me. There’s no Kai here.”

“Thank you…I knew your mother wanted me dead just like all the other witches. Why did I think that she was going to accept me. The only reason my family does is because if they don’t then they will all die.” I drew my head back yanking my brothers necklace off, tossing it across the room where it hit the wall a little harshly. “That’s all I’m good for now keeping my insane Coven alive…keeping my cousins that I actually like their company alive. I don’t need to bother with magic anymore!”

Klaus snapped his head back at me eyeing the jewelry on the floor of the bedroom. He knew very clearly that the witch in front of him cared for that jewelry more than anything else in the world. It being the only piece of her brother that she had left. “Hey now, Raelyn. What has gotten into you. You aren’t dead or just meant to be tortured by your Coven. Now what is this about if you die then the rest of them do hmm?”

“That’s the reason my uncle forced me into the Merge with my brother. If my uncle dies then everybody in our coven does. He was so paranoid about that so he forced me and Jacob to do the traidion. Which basically now makes me the leader but I haven’t accepted the role yet so if I don’t become the leader before he’s gone…then I’ll die regardless.”

Klaus cradled my face in his hands resting his forehead against mine sucking in a deep breath. “You aren’t dying, Raelyn. You are going to live a long and adventurous life. I will ensure that it happens.”

“You can’t guarantee that, Nik-“

He shook his head giving me a serious look before getting to his feet picking up my necklace vamping behind me on the bed. “I will do whatever I have to so you can have the life you didn’t get to have. As for this necklace I don’t want you to ever take it off again, Rae. It is a part of you as much as Jacob is.” He moved his fingers slowly around my neck, clipping the jewelry back on not dropping his hands until I shifted my weight around seeing that we were so close.

“What do you see in me, Nik. I mean everyone else here besides you, Bex and Caroline see me as the bad guy. I mean I was almost excluded by my entire coven until my uncle became so desperate that he couldn’t wait for his damn children to grow up. So I have to ask, "why choose me?”

He blinked, giving me a weak smile grabbing my hands in his that we’re just laying in my lap. “There’s a light in you that makes me want to be better. That makes me want to be able to offer you the entire world so that you and I could go and do whatever we want. I fancy you, Raelyn Lane. You’re beautiful, intelligent, fierce, with a heart bigger than the sun. You make me consider being human and that has only happened one other time in my immortal life.”

“Wow, I…I don’t know what to say…” I gasped at a loss for words, smiling through some tears at his way with words.

Klaus rose to his feet offering me his hand and I placed my hand in his, letting him tug me up to stand on my feet for the first time. “You don’t have to say anything, Raelyn. What I want to do is let me take you out tonight. There’s some special things I must show you while we don’t have my mother chasing after our lives.”

“Another date. What do you have planned this time?” I asked following him until he opened the closet door, grabbing a duffel bag that had some clothes inside, slinging it over his shoulder.

He smiled, dragging me out of the house where it was almost nightfall again meaning that I had been passed out for a while longer than the last time I passed out from using magic. He vamped us out into the middle of the woods where it was sunset that was breaking through the tree line. He dropped the bag at his feet, removing the dog tag necklace placing it in my palm. “Keep that for me until this is over.”

“Until what is over. What did we come out here for?” I questioned eyeing the bag at my feet watching the hybrid in front of me closely.

Klaus smirked before I watched his bones quickly start breaking. “You wanted to see my wolf form, love….urgh!” He grunted collapsing onto the ground when his legs gave out and his back broke quickly where I shuttered, never seeing something like this.

“Klaus…” I almost used a spell on him, raising my hand to stop him. But his body completely transformed into a wolf before I had any time. Hanging my mouth opened my eyes skimmed over his new form. He had turned into a black fur werewolf that stood in front of me on all fours. “Nik, can you still hear me in there?”

The black wolf walked forward where I bent down my knees reaching forward with my right hand holding my palm out to him. He pressed his wet nose into my hand, nuzzling it gently tilting his head to the side at me like it was confused.

“Dic mihi, hva du vet.” I mumbled placing my hand on his head hoping that the spell would still work on a werewolf mind.

“Yes, I can still hear you.” His thoughts entered my mind, making me smile.

I laughed running my fingers through his fur seeing his long black tail wagging behind him where he laid down and placed his head in my lap. “Awe you are just like a dog, Nik.”

“I’m a hybrid.” He growls into my head.

I corrected myself, still smiling down at him letting my fingers lazily keep running through his soft fur. “Oh my bad. I meant to say, "my wolf.”

Klaus nuzzles his head closer to my chest listening to my calm heartbeat since his senses were even stronger when he was in this form. He was also on guard making sure nothing was coming for them even though he knew the witch could take care of herself. “The nights not over yet, Rae. Watch out for a moment.”

Getting to my feet I stepped away from him watching his werewolf form disappear slowly and Klaus to return to his human form, only naked to my surprise. “Oh geez - uh here.” I tossed him the bag turning almost as red as blood in the face.

“Ah don’t forget, love. I can hear that sweet heartbeat of yours.” He teased me where I peaked quickly seeing that he was shrugging on his jeans reaching down for the shirt.

Running my fingers through my hair I couldn’t help it when he does that. I already imagined kissing him too much then I should. “Can you not do that please. I already told you that you drive me crazy enough without thinking about you shirtless and everything.”

“Yes I’m aware. But I do enjoy seeing you blush on occasion.” He responded into my ear making me suck in a breath biting my lip when he intertwined our hands together turning me around to face him.

Loosening the grip on the necklace in my hand, opening my palm holding it out to him. “Here this is yours.” Raising my other hand I was actually surprised that it lifted into the air meaning that it had magic inside.

He bends his head down letting me magically put the necklace around his neck sending me a smile. “Thank you, Rae. Now do you trust me?”

“Of course. Why what are you about to do?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat in curiosity at whatever he had planned next.

He squeezed my hand in his wrapping his arms around my waist as tightly as possible but nothing enough to break my bones. Gripping his gray Henley shirt without a second thought meeting his soft gaze. “Then hang on tight. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you to.”

Doing as I was told I pressed my face against his chest feeling my hair get thrown around in such fast speed and my feet were lifted off the ground for a brief moment. I could hear some traffic noise meaning that we must have been back in town but I didn’t open my eyes asking him. “Can I open them yet?”

“In a moment there’s a surprise you’ll enjoy.” He whispered in my ear making me shiver being able to tell that his hands were moving mine up and then he rested his hands on my waist. “Now, open them Raelyn.”

Blinking my eyes open I chuckled immediately crying happily out of such awe and excitement at what was before me. We could see almost the entire town of Mystic Falls, making me glance over our shoulders seeing the clock behind us meaning we were at the top of the clock tower. “This is incredible. I’ve never been this high up before. It’s like flying.”

“I thought you would like it. This is my gift to you to show you that you have an entire world at your fingertips. No matter what your witch Coven says to you. And we can have all the adventures we want to have together.” He explained where I kept my hand holding his shirt seeing his gaze shift from my eyes then down to my lips.

Leaning forward up on my toes I wasn’t afraid that I might not fall off the tower while being in his embrace. He leans down, closing the gap having our lips finally meet together. My hands ran up his chest wrapping around his neck deepening the kiss that started out as anything but slow. He tugged me closer to his chest cradling one his hands on my cheek until one of my hands tangled in his curly blonde locks tugging on them making him moan pulling back when my heart began thumping loudly in his ears. “I will go anywhere with you, Klaus Mikaelson.”

“And I am with you, Raelyn Lane.” He declares smirking down at me seeing the genuine grin on my face and the wind blowing through my blonde hair where he wanted to live in this moment forever.

Pulling his lips back down onto mine with my hands on the back of his neck I moaned when he tugged on some strands of my hair. I moved one of my hands down to tug on his shirt, getting excited that this was finally happening and no one was here to stop us. “Wait…what…what is it?”

“Easy Rae. We don’t have to do everything in one night. I want to take my time with you.” Klaus broke the kiss moving his other hand up so he was cradling my face in his hands again.

Draping my arms over his shoulders I sighed asking him for one more. “Give me one more kiss. And mark my words I’ll be holding you to every time you kiss me it’s just as intense as that one. Can you promise me that, Nik.”

“I absolutely can.” He tugs me back by my jeans, crashing his lips down onto mine with my throwing my arms around his neck grinning into the kiss.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[fantasyinvader]

Today, I did something I haven't done in a long time. I binged. On what, you may ask? Batman Caped Crusader. I'm going to try and keep spoilers to a minimum, but these are my thoughts on the show.

Art-wise, the show fucks. It's more committed to the 40/50's aesthetic than Batman TAS was in it's early days and I really enjoy the callbacks to Golden Age Batman stuff. His cave looks like the the one from the 1943 serial, and Alfred has a more portly design remaniscent of the original despite still being Pennyworth.

The one thing that kinda urks me is the race-swapping of characters, but that's more of a writing issue. I mean, we all know the prejudices of that era and at times DC isn't afraid to remind us of that. Hell, the first Batman serial was very racist against the Japanese because it was propaganda to get people to support the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII, and Batman having a design similar to that era keeps reminding me of that. The show never really tackles the racial issues of the era, but it's willing to take shots at sexism and is has a bone to pick with the rich (even Bruce has a few comments thrown this way). This show is definitely not copaganda either, as the corrupt police and officials in Gotham feel like a bigger threat than any of the costumed crooks. Between that and the woman-on-woman kiss not raising an eyebrow, Gotham looks insanely progressive for it's era. But I feel there's a missed opportunity there to show that the problems of Gotham aren't just the crooks and crooked cops. In contrast, I look at Superman Smashes the Klan which did tackle the prejudices of the era, as well as difficulties a black cop might face from the force. But at the same time, just because a character is a PoC in this version doesn't make them good guys.

I know it's a minor thing and the production likely didn't want to attempt that, but it just bugged me is all especially with Batman's history in that era.

It really feels like there was a commentary on vigilantes, how some of the guys Batman stops believe they're doing good because of who they're targetting. Even the classist ghost. So it's also setting up Batman's crusade may be a slippery slope. Doesn't help that this Batman is, well, he reminds me if you play a hardass in the Telltale games. It really feels like they were going for a layered Batman. You have the playboy persona of Bruce Wayne as the first mask, Batman as the second mask, and the real Bruce Wayne hidden deep down inside. So deep it's easy to think that the depth bottoms out at the second mask. This isn't a Batman inspiring hope, this is a costumed vigilante handing out two-fisted justice rather than deal with his own problems as he also keeps everyone at arm's distance.

I didn't like how Harvey Dent was presented as a crooked DA through most of the run, only for him to have a change of heart which leads to his disfigurement. Then the show is banking more on him and Bruce being friends (with Batman using him), and he's portrayed more sympathetically. I feel like they could have done more with his arc throughout the entire season rather than just the last quarter. I mean, they set up Harley 2 episodes before she was a villain.

Speaking of Harley, this version of her is scary as fuck. Even this world's version of the Penguin is scary considering what she does to her son in the first episode. Catwoman being a thrill-seeking kleptomaniac didn't quite work for me despite me loving her design. Clayface was awesome. If I had to rank the episodes the episodes, it would be like this.

2>10>1>8>9>5>4>3>7>6

Really though, each episode at least gets a B- rating from me though but 2 and 10 would be the only ones I would give an A rating too. It's a good series, but it only on occasion rises to great in my opinion. I can't help but compare it to the more serialized My Adventures With Superman, which more properly builds up it's stories and as a result builds up hype.

Overall Grade: B+

[mauvecherie-writes]

Where You Belong.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Black f!Reader

summary: things implode but when the reality hits, it’s probably best you stay where you are … Bad For You final part …

warning: NSFW 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, rpf, greyish/darkish!Lewis, dirty talk, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, choking, creampie, arguing, lots of dialogue, enabling behaviours, toxic relationship dynamic (this is more of a precaution bc the two of them have dubious morals).

notes: please leave feedback 💕

word count: 7.7K

Who knew so much should change in two months? From going to see Lewis whenever you could, to seeing him everyday. Why? Because in a moment of absolute insanity you decided to work from home which left you the opportunity to travel with Lewis when he needed to but the majority of the time you were either at your place or at his penthouse. You were at his place a lot because Roscoe - in his old age - did not like being moved around too much. Which was fair, you loved that dog and he could damn near get you to do anything for him.

Tonight, you were back at your place since tomorrow morning you were going back to the office because despite loving the bubble you and Lewis were in, you needed to get back to reality.

“Why do you need to go back to work?” Lewis mumbled as he placed soft kisses along the skin of your leg. “Working remotely has been doing wonders.”

You giggled as his short stubble and braids tickled your skin. He looked up at you with his gorgeous toffee brown eyes and fuck you almost melted and gave into his commands.

“Not all of us can be multi-millionaire Formula One drivers who outside of their sporting schedule can do what they want.”

“I can fund any and everything you need, just say the word.”

“I know baby but I’m not your sugar baby.”

“No, you’re my woman and I want to take care of you.” You bit your lip as you tried to hide your grin. You looked down at him as he moved up your body until his lips were near yours.

“Oh yeah? When did we establish that?” You enquired as you grabbed his face into your hands.

“You’ve always been mine but when you turned up at my place two months ago and told me from your lips that you were mine, it was written in stone.” You almost whimper as he captures your lips and pushes his tongue into your mouth. He shifted onto his knees so that you were on your back and he was hovering above you with his hands on either side of your head. The way he took your breath away with just one kiss should be studied. You melted into his touch as the moulding of his lips felt utterly boneless. And once he pulled away, your thoughts were left so scattered that left your eyes closed and your forehead pressed against his as your body was left wanting for more.

Lewis chuckled. “I’m going to go take a shower, the food should be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” You whispered as he pulled away from you but did not leave without a squeeze to your thigh which left a lingering heat in between your thighs. You giggled as you watched the tattoos on his back ripple as he walked towards the bathroom.

It was such a cliche but Lewis set off butterflies in your stomach but a warmth lingered along with it. For years, you had hidden how you felt for Lewis and now you were at a point where you didn’t need to hide it. How Lewis felt for you made you feel more confident in your affection towards him. How it all started was incredibly unconventional but the longer you basked in his presence, the more you didn’t care about how it started. It was easy not to think about your previous relationship when she was all so consumed with another in such a short span of time.

You finally got out of bed and dressed in a pair of house shorts and Lewis’s discarded hoodie. Making sure that your hair was secured in your bonnet, you left your bedroom and just as you were approaching the open living room, a knock came to your door. However, as you passed by the security system, you saw that it was Jared waiting instead of the delivery man that you had been expecting. Dread filled your body immediately as you stalled in your movement as you continued looking at the screen.

What was he doing here? You asked yourself.

You had tried to contact him but he had ignored all attempts from your behalf and eventually you gave up. He had been so hell bent on never speaking to you again thus you let it go trying to fix things. So what was he here for?

You took a deep breath and approached your door and slowly opened it. With the widening of the gap, it revealed his dishevelled face to you. The restless expression on his face and the bags underneath his eyes showed that time had not been kind to him.

“Jared.”

“YN.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” You quipped your eyebrow.

“I needed time to process the abruptness of it all. You owed me that.” Hearing that, you couldn’t blame him so you shrugged your shoulders. “Can I come in?” He asked.

“Now is not a good time.” You mumbled and a look of defeat quickly flashed on his face but he masked it. You crossed your arms and hid your fingers underneath your sleeves.

“He’s in there isn’t he?” When you didn’t reply, he scoffed before continuing to speak. “You know that you’re so full of shit right? You spent the entirety of our relationship telling me not to worry about him and that you didn’t have any feelings for him and the first thing you do, the first thing is run to him after we had an argument about the very same topic LH .”

“You had been ignoring me for weeks, Jared! You barely paid fucking attention to me and whenever I tried to come to you with it, you brushed me off! And then on top of that you accuse me of cheating on you with my best friend!”

“YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE!” He screamed before running his hands through his hair and tugging at the end of his strands. “Even if you didn’t fuck him physically, you were still having an emotional affair with him and don’t fucking lie to me and say that you didn’t.” He hissed and the harshness of his words made you blush causing you to step backwards.

“He was right wasn’t he? You were never mine.” He whispered into the air and the statement caused you to frown in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” You enquired.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jared then rushed to search through his pockets and then pulled his phone out. He fiddled on his phone a little bit before he showed me the screen, which showed a recording and then he pressed play. The first thing that you could hear was the sound of wind being picked up and some shuffling. And it wasn't before long you heard Jared’s voice speak up.

“I know you don’t like me and we honestly do not need to pretend that we do as long as we respect each other but I know that will never happen because your intentions are very clear and I see right fucking through you.” Jared hissed.

You heard Lewis chuckle before he said, “What are my intentions?”

“You want YN all to yourself. You act like it’s just the way of a best friend being over protective and no man will ever be good enough for her unless it’s you but you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, because she’s with me. She chose me and she’s mine.”

Lewis then began to laugh and a sickening feeling began to pool at the bottom of your stomach.

“Let’s get one thing straight. YN is the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet and she always does everything with the most good of intentions so she’ll entertain you for a while, even fool herself into thinking she’s in love with you but that’s only because she’s afraid of admitting how she feels about me and what it means for our relationship. And so each time you fail to meet her expectations, she’s going to find herself comparing everything either it’d be emotionally, financially, physically, sexually — you’ll never be up to par. That’s when you’ll realise she was never yours to begin with and you wasted your time.”

“You’re a seriously fucked up individual do you know that?”

“And you’re not going to say anything about it? Because who’s going to believe you? The best friend who’s always had her best interests at heart or the boyfriend who’s jealous and is trying to stop our friendship?” A silence ensued before Lewis added on “Enjoy her while it lasts, Jared. Because you won’t be here for long.”

The recording stopped right after and your ears were ringing. The shockingly dark tone within his voice and the certainty of his words rocked your core and not in a good way. Of all the time that you had known Lewis, you had never heard him speak like this. Speak with such ill intent and malice that it, quite frankly, left you perturbed.

“When was this?” You asked.

“Close to a year ago.” Jared replied.

That made your heart ache

“And you’ve had this recording for all this time and only decided to show it to me now?”

“Would you have believed me?! Just like he said, he was your best friend YN and I was just the paranoid boyfriend, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“You don’t know that.” You vehemently shook your head.

“”Don’t I? Look at where we are now YN!” Jared exclaimed with a laugh of disbelief. “You think I’m the only guy he’s done this to? You don’t find it suspicious that every guy you’ve introduced him to just ends the relationship. It didn’t click with you then?”

“No, you’re wrong, Lewis is just overprotective –”

“Lewis is possessive YN! He hates the idea of sharing you with another man and will absolutely do anything to make sure that you always end up in his arms.”

Tears began to brim in your eyes as the weight of the revelation made your heart ache and seemingly to detect your distress, Jared’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry but even though things ended badly between us, I still care about you and Lewis is the last person I want you to be around. He’s fucking bad news YN. Celebrity status or not, he’s a narcissist who is jealously possessive of you and you don’t deserve to be left with someone like that.”

The acute pain of trying to swallow your tears throbbed at the back of your throat.The bubble you had been in began to burst and now those walls were beginning to crumble down. The little cocoon that you had brandished yourself with was doing very little to protect you from the reality that you were being forced to face.

“Delivery for YN!” A voice broke through the tense silence and you forced yourself to smile at the young man who had brought you your food.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke as you took the food from him. And as quickly as he came, he left. He probably heard the arguing and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. You didn’t want to be here yourself but unfortunately you couldn’t escape out of your own body. Your eyes met Jared’s and in that moment, you wanted things to be over.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” You mumbled. As he began to open his mouth, you cut him off, “Goodbye Jared.” The finality in your voice didn't give him another opportunity to sway your mind so you closed the door on his face. You absentmindedly floated to the kitchen and placed the food down onto the counter. What had just occurred to you was still washing your being and as much as you tried to poke holes at Jared’s statements, the logical part of your brain was telling you that it had to be true.

Lewis never made it a secret to hate the men who were in your life romantically and you, admittedly, had never tried to question why they’d disappear after meeting him. You had always chucked it up to then being intimidated by Lewis’s wealth and status but now there was a deeper truth.

And you were furious.

That was what you were feeling and it manifested within your body. Your knuckles had turned white from the white from how hard you had been gripping the counter and your nose flared as you took in deep breaths to try and control the rage brewing. Suddenly you needed Lewis out of your vicinity before you said something you’d come to regret. You burst through the door of your bedroom just as he was placing his shirt over his head.

“Is the food here?” He inquired but the question dried in his throat when he looked at you. Your expression could not be hidden from him. “What’s wrong?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you basically threatened Jared and all my exes to stay away from me or that you tell them we won’t last long.”

“Oh that.” He deadpanned and you swear, in that moment, you could have choked him then and there. The lack of remorse in his voice stunned you. There was no hint of guilt at all.

“How did you find out?”

“Jared just dropped by and played me a recording from months ago. How can you say such things?” You frowned but all Lewis did was lightly chuckle.

“Smart guy.” He mumbled to himself before speaking loudly. “What I said was hardly far from the truth though wasn’t it? Us being here right now is more than proof of that. We’ve always been more than best friends, you had barely started your relationship with Jared before we were in Hawaii and you were begging me to fuck you. I thought that was you coming to terms with how you feel about me. Then after you ran back to him and silently begged me not to bring it up, I didn’t. I let you have your little fun with Jared and let you delude yourself into thinking what happened between us was merely a moment of weakness or whatever bullshit you were telling yourself to make yourself feel better.” The words spilled out of his mouth and your ears were beginning to heat up your body.

“It was only when you started talking about moving in with Jared, I couldn’t have him thinking that what the two of you had was going to be permanent.”

“That wasn’t your position to make that decision for me!”

“You weren’t going to do it for yourself though weren’t you!” His statement struck you like a slap to the face and it stung, leaving a bitter taste in its wake.

“I don’t like what you are implying”

“And what is that YN?”

“That I can’t think for myself and that I need you to do that for me when I have never asked you to. Then to go on to intentionally mess up any relationship that I was trying to form because in your twisted mind, I’m yours and yours alone is so fucked up Lewis! How can you not see that ?! It’s fucking disgusting that you clearly don’t seem to understand that!”

“Because I do YN!” Lewis yelled back “And guess what! I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

You gasp as a wave of nauseousness crushes through your body. Seeing the person in front of you right now was such a shock to you. You had never seen this side of him and you didn’t know how to feel. All the revelations were swirling in your mind and overwhelming you so much that your mind began to slowly block the noise and only your heavy breathing and a faint ringing in your ears.

You could see Lewis moving towards you and that his lips were moving but it was just like he was a moving shadow. Whatever he was saying, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t hear it, you weren’t in the right mental space to try and rationalise his explanations. It was only when his warm hands came to your cheeks and forced you to look into his toffee brown eyes did you finally find the strength to focus.

“I know how things came about aren’t conventional and I went about things the wrong way but admit it YN. Admit that you like that I belong to you. Admit that you like me being possessive. Knowing the lengths that I’d go to make sure you’re mine and mine alone pleases you. Because no man before me has done and no man after me will do. We belong together.” You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was serious and meant every word but it was all too much for you right now.

You shook your head as the tears began to well up in your eyes. “I need you to leave. I-I need space from you right now.” You whispered.

“We don’t need space YN. Whatever you’re feeling right now, feel it but don’t fucking shut me out, I can’t go back to just being your friend anymore.” You shook your head as the tears began to fall and Lewis was continuously wiping away your tears. With your face cradled in his hands, he placed kisses on your cheeks as he softly pleaded for you to not let him go but his presence was invoking your already clouded mind.

“Lewis please!” Your voice sounded so broken and that was what broke the spell. He sighed as he let his hands drop from your face but he still stood quite close to you but you couldn’t meet his eyes. He caressed your hair and placed one kiss on the side of your forehead.

“When you need me, I’ll be there but just know I won’t stop loving you the way I already do.”

With those parting words, Lewis left you alone in your apartment and you fell onto your bed in a heap of tears. His lingering scent on your sheets did not help anything but make you cry even more …

—

It had been over a week since you had last spoken to Lewis and about three days since he had stopped trying to reach out to you. This was the third morning you’ve arrived at your office and there was no apology gift and you couldn’t help the sinking feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach. As you sat at your desk and looked at the blackened screen of your computer, it dawned onto you just how final Lewis had been in his last message.

Lew MSG: Icing me out won’t give you any more clarity than what I have told you and what I have been telling you. But you want space? Fine, I’ll leave you alone YFN.

At the time when you had received that message, it made you angry because he was behaving like the wronged person. You were the one who was kept in the dark and then - in the simplest terms - wanted you to just move past it like it wasn’t a big deal. And you wanted to stay being mad at Lewis but not having access to him the way that you were used to was jarring. This man had been in your life for years and had always been available to you, even with his busy schedule, he still made it a point to be in some form of communication with you. With the breached level of intimacy, you craved him like no other.

You fucking missed him.

However, your pride wasn’t going to drop enough for you to reach out first. You personally felt like he hadn’t grovelled enough and you were going to make him suffer, purely for your satisfaction. But it didn’t make the feelings that were brewing inside of you, to stop. At the end of it all, all you wished for was to be back in his arms, feel his skin against yours and breathe him in.

“Damn, he really gave up didn’t he?” Your assistant Ari, commented, which caused you to sigh.

“No, he just listened to my wishes.” You grumbled.

“Okay, then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy in the face? Isn’t that what you wanted?” She spoke as she moved to sit on the chair in front of your desk.

“I think so?” You frowned as you chewed on your bottom lip. “I mean we spent most of our time together after Jared talking about how we belonged to each other but then this whole shit happened and his actions really just shocked me you know? I didn’t know what to think and I kinda just freaked out.”

“Can I be honest with you? As your friend and not your assistant.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, from what you told me, you guys had a bit of a yelling match and then proceeded to kick him out. And then you ignore any and all attempts from him trying to reach out to you. What is a guy going to think about that?”

“That I don’t want to talk to him.” You mumbled.

“Right and from what I’ve seen and heard, he’s been waiting on you for a very long time. Yes, the way that he went about it was dubious but you can’t, hand on your heart, say that you didn’t like what he did just to prove to you how much he wanted you.”

“It’s wrong and I shouldn’t.”

“But we’re all fucked up in some way and this is your grey area. To add on, those past dudes were not the beacons of society. If all it took was a “leave her alone” from Lewis then they were never for you in the first place. Jared probably only told you because he wanted to one up Lewis and not because he genuinely cared. He wanted to ruin things for the both of you, the same way Lewis had done for him.” Ari shrugged her shoulders towards the end of her statement and she leaned back into the chair.

You sighed yet again as you began to see ration with Ari’s words. You did like what Lewis had done. Everything that had happened had forced you to look at how deep your feelings for Lewis really went. Your initial reaction was valid and you knew that but as you reflected back on things, your anger came more from the ambush of the revelation rather than the actual action. Yes, what Lewis did was shitty but Jared still could have treated her right, made her actually fall in love with him and he could have been a good boyfriend. He chose not to and the onus was on him because even without Jared telling you what Lewis did, you still left him because of how he treated you by his own choice.

“You love that man YN. I can see it, I can feel it. So why are you denying yourself the ability to truly bask in that? Fuck what anybody has to think about that. We’ve seen relationships blossom from the worst of the worst, don’t beat yourself up for being in love with Lewis because of how you think people will perceive your relationship on the outside.”

“It’s not even just about me. Lewis is a global phenomenon. Something like this would ruin his reputation.”

“That’s his consequence and not yours. He must clearly know what he’s doing if he’s that brazen.”

“I guess.” You were trying to feel hopeful but with the way things were going and you know how petty Lewis could be, opening that channel again was going to be a bit of struggle. “I just really need to talk to him and sort this shit out. I miss him.” You confessed.

“Of course you do. That’s your soulmate.” Ari laughed at your behaviour and honestly you couldn’t help but feel a little bit embarrassed. Usually, you were the cool and level headed one but with this tension in between you and Lewis, it left you in disarray and struggling to contain all that you felt. “You didn’t hear this from me but he’s going to be at a friend’s party tonight.”

“How do you know that information?” You scrutinised her with your eyes which caused Ari to giggle.

“Angela and I were both sick of your shit. But that’s all I’m going to say. I’ll send you the details later because right now we need to focus on the Hollindair party.”

“You’re so demanding, did you forget that I’m your boss?”

“Technically we’re partners, we just make more money in this dynamic.” Ari said. A hearty laugh escaped you as she stood up and began to walk to your office door.

“Ari.” The calling of her name, stopped her in her tracks. “Thank you.”

“Always.” She winked at you before she left you alone. You had come into the office feeling like shit but the small chat with your friend, had brought up your spirits and you become more jovial in nature. Tonight, you were going to get your man back, despite your earlier plan to ignore him but that wasn’t the case any more. So he was a little unhinged, so what? As you thought about it, you and him were on similar pages and it brought you peace accepting that as truth …

At the end of your day, as promised, Ari sent you details about the party that Lewis would be attending. You rushed home after a day’s work and got to preparing yourself. After a shower, scrubbing the grime of the day from your body, you moisturised your skin with your vanilla scented lotion and then wore your outfit. You loved the way the dress hugged your body and even though it was a pain to wrap your strapped heels but the way your look came together was all worth it.

You made sure that your look was to die for. You wanted Lewis to fall to knees when he saw you. Wasting no time, you left your apartment and hopped into your uber that took you to the location where the party was being hosted. You kiss Ari for her ability to get your name on the guest list meaning there was no hustle for you entering the private party. It was lively and bodies were rushing around, all in a mood to get grooving and you were all for it but you needed a drink and find some mutuals you could mingle with.

As you sat at the bar, waiting for your drink to be served, you name was yelled and it broke through the loud bass of the music. You lifted your head up and smiled when you saw Daniel and Yas approaching you.

“Hi guys!” You grinned as you stood to embrace them.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t know that you were invited.” Yas spoke.

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing but Ari did some snooping and I only came for one reason.” At those words, their eyes drew wide before a nervous chuckle left the both of them which did not spark a good feeling within you. “I don’t like the sound of that.” You added.

“You sure you don’t want to see him when the both of you have a clearer mind and you’re in a better environment?” Daniel questioned.

“No! I can’t wait that long. I’ve already wasted enough time.” You rebutted. In their attempt to draw your attention away, it only made your eyes wander around the club and they fell onto the VIP area towards the back where Lewis was sitting in one of the booths towards the front of the area with a couple of women around him all trying to engage in conversation with him. Even with the orange cap covering half of his face, you knew that it was him. The tattoos being exposed in the low lights were telling enough.

The logic part of you knew that the women were just flirting with Lewis in hopes of being the next woman on his arm and granted, Lewis was a friendly person within the right circumstances so it was not unordinary behaviour to see him smiling at other women in the midst of conversation. But that logical part of you was not with you today, you had come on here on a mission and it was going to be completed but seeing the sight in front of you, aroused an ferocity you’ve never felt before. You quickly grabbed your shot of tequila and threw it down your throat, sucking on the lime and then downing half of your rum and coke.

With the liquor courage within you, you march towards Lewis, ignoring the protests of Daniel and Yas. Barging through the small crowd, you found yourself in the VIP area and by instinct, Lewis lifted his head and they gazed upon you and like a magnet, he stood up from his seat and before he could say a word, you grabbed his face and fiercely kissed him and without a moment’s hesitation, he groaned into your mouth as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close as he deepened the kiss. You know he allowed for you to control the kiss as you nibbled on his bottom lip before thrusting your tongue forward into his mouth before pulling his into yours and sucking on it.

The cheers around you did nothing to deter the desperate need you felt in that moment. The one week felt like years apart and you never wanted to be away from him ever again, especially if you can help it. You finally pulled away and your hands dropped from the collars of the blue denim top that he was wearing.

“Can we talk now?” You asked as he looked down at your swollen lips with a light smirk on his face. You hadn’t meant to publicly claim him the way that you did but seeing that leaving things open ended left an insecurity that you did not like. Lewis nodded his head as his hand trailed down the length of your arm and then intertwined their fingers together before he began to pull you away from the masses. You couldn’t help but glance at the women still sitting in his booth with their mouths gaped open and you giggled at their expression.

For a relatively large party, the back courtyard was empty except for the few intoxicated patrons lingering around as they smoked their latest nicotine craving. Lewis sat down on the cleanest bench and before he could pull you in between his parted legs, you delivered a smack to his right cheek. The slap wasn’t meant to hurt him but it was more a convey of the turmoil of emotions that you had been through.

“That’s for the bullshit in there. All that talk that you’re mine and mine alone but you’re letting some girls around you as if they had a chance.” You seethed through your teeth but all Lewis did was chuckle before he pulled you in between his lap as he turned his cap backwards so he could see you better. He licked his lips as he placed his hands on your waist before trailing them down to your ass and gripping it into his hands.

“Yeah? You wanna call out the hypocrisy there like you didn’t publicly claim me in front of most of our peers. Even though when I tried to do the same thing, you threw a fit and kicked me out.”

You groaned as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder and his laugh rambled through you. “That was a completely different situation.” You whispered into his skin but Lewis nudged your face upwards so that he could cradle the back of your head and caressed your cheek with his thumb.You silently stared at each other as you held other and it felt so good being back in his arms with his scent engulfing you, suffocating your sense in the best possible way.

“What happened to you needed space and time?”

“Someone talked some sense into me and made me realise that it has always, always been you. In the heat of the moment, I was so overwhelmed and I reacted before thinking things through when the truth of the matter is, I don’t really care. Yes, what you did was fucked up but deep down, it made me love you even more.”

“The only thing I’m sorry for was how all of this was revealed to you and left you feeling like you weren’t in control. But YN you’ve always been the one and spending years pining after you knowing that you felt the same and not knowing how to confront it was unbearable for me. I shouldn’t have forced the situation but I don’t feel any remorse when I have you in my arms, giving yourself to me completely.”

“I’m yours Lewis.” You whispered as your heart pounded so loudly, it rang in your ears. You grabbed his cheeks which forced his lips to pucker. “But don’t ever do that stupid shit you pulled in the club again. I’m just as possessive as you are and I’m not afraid to fight you and the person you try to use for some petty shit. Reputation be damned.” The shock of the slap on your ass cheeks caused to gasp and drop your hand from his jawline.

“I love it when you talk like that. It’s making me so fucking hard.” He growled as he pulled you close and you could lightly feel him against your stomach. Light kisses trailed up your neck as his hands explored inches of your body. You moaned softly when he began sucking on your skin and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to hide the faces you were making. “Did you wear this dress for me baby?”

You meagerly nodded your head as your arousal began to pool in between your thighs. “Smelling so fucking good as always, you know how to tempt me princess but my eyes are always on you. No one else.” He slammed his lips against yours, tasting your mouth like it was the very first time doing so. You moved his cap off his head, freeing his braids and running your hands through them as your tongues twisted with a delicious friction. He tugged at your bottom lip with enough force to make you whimper into his mouth. Your leg moved to try and inch closer to him.

He pulled away with a smile. “As much as I would love to fuck you right here, right now, I don’t think the world is ready for that type of scandal.”

You nodded your head in agreement. “Want to go back to the party?”

“Nah, I’d much rather take you back to my place and bury myself so deeply inside of you that the phantom of me lingers for days on end.” Your eyes flattered close as the imagery flooded your mind. “You came here for me, and you’ve got me so let’s go home.”

The whole journey back to his place, the desire to be as close as possible to Lewis was driving you insane. The clothes on both of your bodies was irritating you and if it wasn’t for the fact, there was a driver and security guard in the front seats, you would have been on your knees with his dick down your throat. But he did not disappoint as soon as you entered his penthouse. He ripped your dress away from your body, literally. With his large hands, he ripped at the seams of your dress before letting the fabric fall to the floor. Before you even had a chance to respond, your back was against the wall as he attacked your lips.

It was then your turn to draw his clothes away from his body. You knew that his clothes were expensive and that his stylist would have a bitch fit if you ruined the items but you didn’t care, you just wanted to feel his skin against yours. Once Lewis had stripped bare to his underwear, just as you, he took both of your hands and slammed them against the wall above your head. Your nipples stood to a point begging for attention but he deliberately missed them as his hand slid down your stomach and pushed your thongs to the side.

“You’re so wet baby.” He smiled as his fingers played in your wetness before teasing your clit. You bit on you lip as you looked into his eyes and the stare you were met with were darkened pools of accumulated lust from your time apart.

“I missed you so much. I couldn’t cum unless I was thinking about you”

“Yeah? You need me to make you feel good because it’s only me who can, isn't it?”

“Yes, baby please.” You pleaded as Lewis dipped his head and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. He let his teeth lightly tug on the bud before soothing the pain by circling his tongue around the areola. He let go of your nipple and looked up at you.

“Spread your legs baby.”

At his command, you followed it and his fingers wasted no time finding your heat and sinking right in. With two fingers inside of you, your hips set a pace and you held onto his wrist as you used him to chase your pleasure. You knew that he was watching your reaction with such an intensity that it brought your orgasm to the forefront far quicker than anticipated.

“I wish you could see the way you look when you’re about to come. So fucking beautiful.” Lewis murmured. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and when you came over his fingers, his restraint snapped and he quickly took his fingers out of you before dropping onto his knees in a frantic need. He threw your leg over his shoulder and pulled your heat closer to his face and then cupped your ass cheeks in his hand before he buried his face in your cunt. You let out a scream as you dug your hand into his braids, tugging on thm with no care as you grinded your hips into his face.

His tongue lapped at your clit as the friction sent bursts of pleasure through you.

“I fucking missed you in my mouth princess, you taste so good.” He mumbled against your sex before he picked you up and placed you onto his shoulders. You squealed as you held onto him for support but he secured you in position by securing his arms around your thighs. The way that he lost himself in between your legs had you panting and screaming so much, it echoed in the silent room of nothing more than the sounds the two of you were making.

“Please don’t stop.” You cried as your orgasm was beginning to come closer as your legs tightened around his head as he eagerly sucked on your clit which ultimately brought your climax. He lapped you up as whimpers of pleasure subdued. He slid you down his arms and until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his mouth was on yours once more. The taste of you on his mouth boosted your confidence. It was you on his lips, his scent masking him, branding him as yours. The possessiveness of it all was addictive.

“I need you now daddy, I can’t wait any longer.” You whisper as you trailed your hand between your bodies and cupped his dick into your warm hand. He pushed himself into your warm palm as he began walking towards the bedroom.

“I got you baby.”

Once in the bedroom, he laid you on the silk covers and with your body bare to him, his touch went wherever it needed it to go. He pushed your thighs apart as he lightly massaged your clit but you were done with his teasing. You used your toes to push his boxers down but then grabbed your foot and pushed them back onto the bed. He hovered above you as he slid his fingers between your folds, getting you worked up. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he played with you to his pleasing.

“My good girl. Perfectly mine to use as I please isn’t that right baby.” He whispered against your lips.

“Yes.”

“You’re getting so wet baby, getting ready for me.”

You grab onto his cock and lead him into you, you couldn’t wait anymore. The way that he sunk into you was a welcomed feeling and eyes caught each other with a sigh that began dropping from your lips as he sunk further into you. You squealed as he positioned you the way that he wanted, legs on his shoulders as your hands settled onto his shoulders.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned as he slowly thrusted into you, filling you up until you can’t take anymore but you would never tell him to stop, you don’t want him to. You reach for him, needing his lips on yours again but as he drank your moans, you found the strength to switch positions.

Straddling his thick thighs, you placed your knee on either side of them as you slid down his cock. Lewis gasped, his hands grabbed your hips immediately and watched the way your pussy swallowed his cock inch by inch. A moan got trapped in your throat,your mouth parted into a silent gasp as you whined your hips. Lewis caressed your thighs before landing his hands on your ass.

“Yeah you missed me didn’t you? look at your little pussy swallowing me right up.” You looked down at him as you placed your hands on his tattooed chest, moaning softly as you steadily bounced on his cock.

The way Lewis filled you up so perfectly, like he was made for you and you truly believed us. Despite his size, he always fit you perfectly but in this moment, the feeling was ten fold. You never wanted to lose this feeling, you wanted to feel this every day. Speared on by your thoughts, your walls clenched around his cock just as your hand wrapped around his neck. You applied pressure to his air waves as you began to increase your pace.

“Princess.” Lewis gasped as his nails dug into the flesh of your ass. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to cum.” His voice was strained as you restricted his airwaves. Your face hovered above his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips before you placed your free hand onto his torso as you wrote him faster. His growl hissed through the air as he pounded into you at your pace.

“I need you to come for me Daddy. I need you to fill me up as much as you can, okay?” You whispered in between kisses. You loved the way Lewis moaned for you. He sounded completely desperate as he struggled to contain him but with the way you were tightening around him, he was quickly losing composure. You knew he was close and you wanted to bring him to his knees, the way he did you.

You giggled as Lewis kept pounding into you with a rhythm that was quickly losing pace. “Mmm, Daddy!” You moaned. “Daddy, please come! Please!” You begged. Lewis hissed and cursed. His hand came around your neck and brought your lips to his. Your hands pulled on the sheets on either side of his head as you let Lewis fuck up into you.

You cried out as he hit your spot over and over. “Oh, shit, yes, there!” His thrusts were hard and fast and you were about to come.

“Lew, Lew baby, Fuck,Daddy, ‘m coming─” Your walls clamped around him as you learn clit garaging brushed against his lower abdomen. You threw your head back, moaned loudly and long and came on his cock. Your walls were clenching around his aching dick madly. Your orgasm rolled out in waves and rolled into Lewis’s climax. He thrusted once, twice and for the third time before he gasped, groaning deep in his throat, he filled your cunt with his come.

His breathing was harsh as he hugged you as his cock continued to spurt inside of you. Your hand ran through his hair with your nails scratching his scalp, while his hands were rubbing your back as you collapsed into his chest. Both of you stayed in that position until you leveled your breathing.

“That was so intense.” You said into his chest. The vibration of his chuckle lightly shook your body.

“That’s what happens when you let out all of your emotions, the right way.” He replied.

“It feels good.” You snuggled into his chest with his dick still inside of you and it felt like you finally belonged.

————————

On the outside world ..

He had watched you leave your house, dressed in a slutty outfit. His fingers tightened around his steering wheel.

You never dressed like that for him.

He never wanted you to anyway.

However, as he continued to watch your movements, identity hidden the safety of the shadows, he came to the realisation that Lewis has truly corrupted you. You were supposed to leave him alone! You were supposed to be staying very far away as you came to a realisation that Lewis was a bad person.

But no! He had to endure you practically dry humping him in public. This side of you was not a good look, it wasn’t a look you were supposed to have. You were supposed to be perfect and not the groupie he sees in front of him. He couldn’t blame you though. The two of you didn’t have enough time, he couldn’t mould you into the image of perfection that he had of you.

He needed to get rid of Lewis Hamilton.

He clearly hadn’t tried hard enough the first time, but Jared won’t be making that same mistake ever again.

The end … ?

———————————————————————————

@queenshikongo3 @melodicheauxxo @my-rosegold-soul @felicity-x0 @zeebee300 @stronglikemusic @melinda-january @olyvoyl @est1887 @lewisdiary @royallyprincesslilly @sadthotsonlylove @brownsugarcoffy @kellhems @zaeydi @sewis-rights @kindan3rdy951 @kijahslove @melthereader @percysbiatch @piscesgyalinit @sj206260358 @heyitsiyanas @sugardontbesweet @melancia @t3mporaa @pierreseclair @write-fromthe-start @blowmymbackout @secretwhores-world @kyla-queen @9daykrisr @xsweetdellzx @syren-tara @chaneajoyyy

[agustdef]

Fold

This fic was inspired by this TikTok.

Pairing: Min Yoongi/SUGA x Black!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol AU/Idolverse

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning: One cuss word; Mildest of mild innuendos.

Rating: PG-15

My Beta Reader: The dork known as @hobeemin​

Though Sunday was often the day that YN prepped for the week when she woke up Saturday morning earlier than usual and much more rested than usual she couldn’t find it in herself to waste it. Of course, relaxing wasn’t a waste, but there was a strong urge to do everything that was on her to-do list for the following day.

So that’s what she went into the day with.

Waking up at six meant she needed to be quiet so Yoongi could sleep longer, so she tip-toed out of the room and made the quick change into workout clothes. Though she thought about taking off her bonnet she left it on and headed out into the front room to do some yoga. The sun was rising so she opened the currents so as she followed the instructor the light could shine through and help comfort the start of her day.

For twenty minutes she did the routine, trying her best to keep the flow going and not get caught up in getting to a position quickly. Giving herself some grace was often a problem and she wanted a good day, so she focused on setting good intentions for the day and allowing things to roll off her back.

Once she finished a quick shower and put the hair begging for a wash day in a bun she tackled breakfast. Not wanting a whole lot she stuck to eggs, sausage, and toast. It was quick and easy, especially because Yoongi mentioned doing a quick workout and he preferred a protein shake to eating a meal before he did that.

Plus he wasn’t awake.

His sleep meant that after making a cup of tea she could sit on the balcony of their condo and eat her breakfast in silence as she looked out at Seoul, which was also springing to life.

After she finished breakfast she headed inside and tackled one of the things on her list - the kitchen. She sat her dishes on the counter and walked to the fridge, grabbing anything out that needed to be thrown away and wiping it down as she went. When it was done she tackled the dishes, which she washed by hand instead of using the dishwasher so she could get them put away faster. That was followed by wiping down every surface in the kitchen and the dining room and then refilling containers if they needed it. All while making note of what they needed to buy soon.

As she finished pouring rice into a container they kept near the rice maker she heard shuffling and before she could react there were hands on her waist turning around.

There was a gentle smile on Yoongi’s face as he looked at her and it almost hid the sleepiness that clung to him still. He was dressed for the gym and holding the bag he always took with him, which told her he’d been up for a little bit but he sometimes took longer to wake up.

“Good morning, baby,” he said morning voice in full effect.

“Good morning, my love.”

That made him smile wider and then he used the hands on her waist to pull her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. His lips were soft and he tasted of mint, which made YN deepen the kiss. She honestly could kiss him all day, but at some point, she pulled away with a goofy smile on her lips.

“I thought you would wait a little longer before heading out,” she said.

Yoongi shook his head and then yawned.

“No, I’m working out with Namjoon.”

At the mention of his leader and working out in the same sentence YN groaned.

“You don’t value my sanity.”

Yoongi chuckled. “I value it baby, but I also enjoy driving you a little insane.”

Without another word, he pressed another kiss to her lips, slapped her ass, and then exited their apartment. 

YN shook her head at her fiance’s antics and got back to work, but with no one to worry about waking she turned on her early two thousand cleaning playlist to keep her company. With that on and with her urge to get shit done still going strong, she got to work. Every room in their condo was treated with the same meticulous method as the kitchen and despite that she got things done fairly quickly. A perk of working to keep things clean throughout the week and the deep clean maid service they used every two weeks.

By the time she was done, it was a little before noon, and Yoongi was walking through the door dripping in sweat and red in the face. Which was interesting since the gym that he and Namjoon went to was twenty minutes away and that should have been enough time for his body to calm down.

That didn't bode well for her sanity at all. He’d been working out more and the muscles coming through were making both YN and ARMY beyond feral. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, but my goodness wasn’t it fun to explore that.

As Yoongi passed her he winked, which didn’t help matters but she returned it with her own flirting smile. 

While he went to their room to shower she got to work prepping lunch since she still had the energy to do so. There was leftover soybean paste soup in the fridge so she heated that up, got some rice going, cut some kimchi, and made two quick kimbaps for them. By the time Yoongi was out of the bedroom she was mostly done. But as she went to move their food to the dining table he swatted her behind and motioned for her to sit, so she did that while he set everything out.

“Thank you,” he said before diving straight into eating.

The music she had on still played so while they ate without speaking it wasn’t completely silent. Plus they spoke a little of their mornings and YN talked Yoongi down from killing Namjoon over the new workout routine he had him try. The man was sure that he would be unable to even move the next day from how hard they went, especially because there was more weight than usual.

Upon completion of their meal, Yoongi slapped her hands away so he could clear the table and made the effort to get everything into the dishwasher. Then he came back to the table, sitting in a chair closer to YN’s and leaning in for a kiss. However, YN noticed some kimchi on his lips just a moment before they touched. She couldn’t stop it, but she pulled away quickly making a face.

“Ew,” she said as she used a paper towel left on the table to wipe his lips and then hers. 

Despite the clear reason as to why she’d pulled away and said what she did her reaction was not well received. The only way to describe Yoongi’s expression was wounded puppy, but he quickly pulled it together and went for faux anger.

“Did you just… You know what? Nope, no more kisses for you.”

“But Yoongi…”

“No. You don’t tell me ew when I kiss you and think you get more kisses. No kisses for you. For the rest of the day. No, the rest of the week.”

“Baby,” YN whined while moving to sit on his lap.

He looked everywhere but at her. “What?”

“Can I please have a kiss?”

YN pouted and fluttered her lashes a little and in a second Yoongi was smiling and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. However, he pulled away too soon, and since YN didn’t like that so she moved closer, and though she could see the fight in his eyes Yoongi gave her more kisses.

When they finally pulled away she had a cocky smile on her lips and her eyes held amusement, but also adoration.

“You fold so easily,” YN said.

Yoongi grunted and frowned.

“You’re too cute to deny. But let’s not discuss how easy it is to make a person in this room fold.”

Laughter bubbled in YN’s chest at that, but she pushed it down because the tables could turn very quickly and she wanted the upper hand.

“Yes, my love. No more talk of how quickly I can get what I want, I promise.”

However, despite her avoidance of consequences, her mouth didn’t get the memo and that led to her screaming as she jumped off his lap and sprinted through their home to escape him.

[jimblejamblewritings]

romeo and...cullen? | part 15.

Summary: Y/N Cullen, youngest in both actual age and last to be turned in the Cullen clan. Her world is turned upside down when Bella Swan enters her family’s life, because Bella doesn’t bring just herself but drags some of her friends into the Cullen’s life as well.

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Pairing: Jacob Black x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The news was playing on the TV in your living room. Another missing person in Seattle.

“It’s getting worse, we need to do something,” Carlisle said watching the news story.

“It takes more than one of our kind to cause the damage they’re reporting,” Jasper said. “Quite a few more, they’re undisciplined, conspicuous—”

“Newborns,” Edward finished for him.

“Like new vampires?” Bella asked.

“The first few months after the change. That’s when we’re at our most uncontrollable, vicious, insane with thirst.”

“No one’s trained these newborns.” Jasper observed the television closer. “But this isn’t random, someone’s creating an army.”

“An army?” Emmett asked intrigued.

“Created to fight someone.”

“But we’re the only clan even close to Seattle,” Edward said.

Carlisle started pacing. “Regardless, if we don’t put a stop to this the Volturi will, I’m surprised they’ve let it go on this long.”

“Maybe, they’re purposely ignoring it. I read Aro’s mind, Carlisle, he wants Alice and I to join him and knows we never will with our family still alive.”

“An army would solve that for him.”

“We have to change me now then,” Bella said.

“No, Bella. You’d be a liability as a newborn, unable to control your instincts, an easy target,” Jasper said.

“We’ll come up with something, Bells,” you assured your friend. “But changing you right now isn’t it. Think about Charlie and Renee. You can’t just disappear on them.”

~~

You were confused when you walked into your house after shopping in Port Angeles to see your father bandaging Bella’s hand.

“Jake found out about me wanting to become a vampire.”

“And?”

“And I punched him in the face.”

You just raised your eyebrows and sat down next to your friend.

“It’s just a sprain, should heal fairly quickly,” Carlisle said.

Emmett gave Bella’s good hand a high-five. “Punching a werewolf? You’re gonna be one tough little newborn.”

“Tough enough to take you on.”

Rosalie slammed down her newspaper and walked off angrily. You thought she wasn’t that mad until you heard her room door slam. Eventually she’d get over it. You did when you realized Bella was adamant about her choice.

~~

Friday rolled around and you sat in the gym watching your siblings and practically all your friends graduate. Jess, Bella, and Angela piled into your car after taking graduation pictures. You sped off to your house to beat the rush of everyone else getting there since you still had to help set up.

“This is our best work yet,” Alice said high-fiving Rosalie as they looked at you, Jessica, Bella, and Angela all dressed up.

Jessica and Angela were excited at having been dressed by The Cullen Sisters but you and Bella just looked uncomfortable.

“Why do I have to dress up? It’s not my graduation.”

“You’re a Cullen aren’t you?” Rosalie asked. “We always show up and show out.”

You mingled and talked with random guests until you heard Bella at the front door.

“I thought my right hook was me uninviting you.”

“Just came to drop off an ‘I’m sorry’ present and see (Y/N).”

You heard Jacob’s voice. You quickly walked over to the front of your house where you saw Jacob, Quil, and Embry. Jacob handed Bella a small graduation present before giving you a kiss when you came up to him.

“Is your sister okay?” Quil asked, pointing to Alice on the steps. She was having a vision.

“Alice?” you raced over to her, Bella followed behind you. “What did you see?”

“The decision’s been made.”

“What’s going on?” Jacob asked.

You guys waited till all the party guests had left to hold a little meeting on the back porch.

“So we’re not going to Seattle?” you asked.

“No, they’re coming here, soon. We have two weeks, if we’re lucky.”

“This could turn into a bloodbath,” Carlisle said. “Alice, can you see who’s behind it?”

“I don’t think I recognize anyone… wait one, Riley Biers.”

“That’s the first boy that went missing in Seattle. Charlie’s been working that case for a while now,” Bella said.

“They must be playing with the blind spots in your vision,” Edward told Alice. “Either way the army is coming and there aren’t enough of us to protect the town.”

“Hold up. What damn army?” Jacob asked.

“Newborns, our kind,” Carlisle explained.

“What are they after?” Embry asked from beside Jacob.

“They were passing around Bella’s sweater,” Alice recounted her vision.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“An ugly fight. Lives lost,” Carlisle said.

Jacob turned to look at Quil and Embry; the three of them nodded. “Alright, we’re in.”

“What? No, you’ll get yourself killed, no way,” Bella protested.

“We weren’t exactly asking for your permission, Bells.”

“Edward? (Y/N)?” Bella asked the two of you.

“It means more protection for you, Bella,” Edward reasoned.

You looked up at the three pack members in front of you. “Are you guys sure?”

“It’s what we do, babe.”

“Jacob, do you believe Sam would agree to an understanding?” Carlisle asked him.

“Of course, (Y/N)’s practically family, the rest of you are extended.”

“And the others?”

“As long as we get to kill some vampires,” Jacob responded.

“Jasper?” Carlisle turned to his youngest son.

“They’ll give us the numbers, the newborns won’t know they even exist. It’ll give us an edge.”

~~

You sipped on the blood bag while your family was up hunting early in the morning. Every sip was a struggle to gulp down but you could feel yourself getting stronger as you did it. Your whole family had decided that you should hunt every morning to keep yourselves at full strength in case the army arrived sooner than expected.

Jacob called as soon as he made it back to the reservation. The wolves were ready to start training as soon as possible. Everyone agreed to meet in the woods on your family’s side of the treaty line. Your family, along with Bella who was just watching, started training early while waiting for the pack. You heard the rustling of the forest as the wolves came down the hill.

“They don’t trust the rest of us enough to be in human form. Only (Y/N),” Edward said, reading Sam’s mind.

“They came. That’s what matters,” Carlisle said. “Edward, can you translate what they’re thinking?”

Edward nodded and Carlisle turned to face the pack.

“Welcome. Jasper has a good amount of experience with newborns. He’ll be able to teach us how to defeat them.”

“They want to know how the newborns are different from us,” Edward translated.

“They’re a great deal stronger than us because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first seven months of this life,” Carlisle said.

Jasper stepped up to explain more.

“Carlisle’s right. That’s why they’re created. A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army, but no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are first: never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. And second: never go for the obvious kill, they will be expecting that and you will lose… Emmett, you’re first.”

Everyone backed up to give Jasper and Emmett room to spar.

“Don’t hold back, Emmett.”

“Not in my nature.”

Emmett ran fast at Jasper. Jasper braced himself as Emmett threw him in the air and he hit the ground. Jasper sprung up quickly. Emmett attempted to throw a punch but he missed and fell to the floor as Jasper’s fist collided with his stomach. Jasper and Emmett sparred a bit more before Jasper called Carlisle and Edward to spar.

Your father and brother both ran and grabbed each other’s necks. Carlisle threw Edward but missed his next hit. Edward pushed Carlisle down to the ground. Edward stepped a little bit away, looking to Jasper to see if he did a good job.

“One more thing,” Jasper said, “Never turn your back on your enemy.”

Jasper rolled his eyes as Carlisle got up and pushed Edward to the floor. Jasper called you up.

“Are you sure about this, (Y/N)? When James—”

“Are you getting soft, Major Whitlock?” you taunted. You didn’t want to be reminded and your family still didn’t know about the scratches.

You might not have been as fast or as strong as some members in your family but general fighting you excelled in. You knew how to use your size and limitations to your advantage. Everyone watched as you and Jasper sparred, your fight lasting the longest. Jasper managed to finally get a grip on you and he slammed you to the ground. You gave out a hard grunt as you hit the forest floor. Jacob gave a short bark.

“Jas, stop!” Edward said, reading the wolves’ mind. According to Jacob he could feel (Y/N)’s pain.

“Too hard?” Your brother helped you to your feet.

You rubbed your back in pain. “I’m losing my edge, really thought I had you. Were you using full strength?”

“Too much?”

“No, no. I should get used to it. Not like the newborns are gonna hold back.”

You lifted your shirt slightly making everyone gasp. The wolves growled slightly, not liking the sight of you hurt. There were some cracks around your back. You watched as the cracks closed up, bleeding slightly as they did, before bruising and then immediately fading.

“Damn, Jas. You could give Emmett a run for his money in strength.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jasper put his hand on shoulder.

“Yeah, Jas. I feel fine, great even. Just knocked the wind out of me briefly.”

“Okay, (Y/N). I think we’re done for the day.” Jasper turned to the wolves. “We’ll meet again at the same time tomorrow.”

Jacob walked over to you in wolf form. You patted his head, feeling the soft short fur. You never really saw Jacob’s wolf form. He almost always changed back before meeting up with you.

“He wants to know if you want to come over for dinner, Billy’s cooking dinner,” Edward translates, “And there’s dessert this time.”

You laughed and agreed to come over. You walked back with the wolves to Jacob’s house. Dinner went just as well as it did last time. You felt very comfortable at the Black’s house. Billy retired for the night after pulling the brownies from the oven.

You and Jacob sat on his bed eating brownies and ice cream. Jacob gave you one of his flannel shirts to wear as pajamas. Just like the bathing suit in Alaska, Jacob could do nothing but stare as you stripped out of your outer layer and put his shirt on over your underwear. You were vaguely aware of how he looked at you in those moments, relishing ever so slightly that you made him feel the way he did.

“What do you want to do when this is all over?” Jacob pulled you onto the bed. You snuggled into his arms welcoming the body heat. Jacob liked how the cold temperature of your skin cooled him down.

“It’ll be summer, I’m thinking Hawaii.”

“My sister Rebecca lives in Hawaii, think she’ll let us crash at her place?”

You laughed against his chest. “If not then I’ll take you to my hometown. I think you’d like San Francisco.”

“You wanna stay for one week or two?”

“Two,” you answered.

You and Jake continued to talk, your voices becoming a low whisper so as not to disturb Billy.

~~

The back of your thigh felt a bit damp as if you were uncomfortably sweaty. You stood up from Jacob’s bed, waking him up in the process. You looked at the small red spot on his bedsheets.

“Shit did I accidentally scratch you?”

“It’s fine, Jake. I think… I’m just gonna go see if the wound healed, where even is it?”

You turned to enter Jacob’s bathroom so you could attempt to find the scratches. Jacob watched as you started to walk away, his flannel shirt had ridden up on you.

“(Y/N), it’s not a scratch.”

“Huh?”

Jacob pointed to the back of your underwear exposed by the ridden up flannel.

“Period spot.”

You attempted to look at you own butt. Vampires weren’t supposed to bleed at all and even though it was clear that some things caused you to bleed, you didn’t think periods were something you’d ever have again. You’d have to tell Carlisle about this at some point. Great, you never thought you’d have the period talk with your dad again. Only under much weirder circumstances.

“Must’ve started in your sleep. Rebecca used to complain about that all the time.”

“What did you say?” You asked alarmed.

“It’s just a period spot, I can wash the sheets. No harm, no foul.”

“No Jacob, did you just say sleep?”

“Yeah. You clocked out at like midnight. We were talking and you just kinda fell asleep on me… this is a problem isn’t it?”

“Jake, you have to take me home now.”

Edward was already outside when you reached the house. Jacob’s thoughts could be heard for miles sometimes when it came to you. “I called Carlisle, he’s on his way home already.”

(Part 16)...

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.