#birthdays. In my experience it's usually one or two weeks ahead of time. Like 'oh next weekend' or 'oh two weeks from now' etc.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

[winter-cheshire-writings]

Echoes and Experiments: Chapter 6

“Mieko's birthday?” Albedo asked. “Oh, no, I haven't asked her when it is.”

“You haven't? My goodness, Albedo.” Lisa chuckled. “You'll have to do something nice for her. It's only a week away.”

“Oh, right before Valentine's day? Then I missed it last year.”

“Yes. Poor Mie works herself to the bone every year right before Valentine's Day because she gets an influx of orders.” Lisa cooed.

“Usually she tries to work through her birthday. Lisa has attempted to give her a surprise party, and she was very unhappy about it.” Jean sighed. “We usually just stop by to drop off some food, but since you two are dating… Perhaps she would be more open to having your company? You might even be able to convince her to take a break and enjoy her birthday for once.”

“She doesn't enjoy her birthday?” Albedo asked.

“No. Not for many years.” Jean shook her head. “Even when we were young, people would give her gifts that were reminiscent of Valentines Day, like chocolates and such. This lead her to dislike the holiday as well.”

“That is problematic.” Lisa sighed. “Not to mention that her ex broke up with her around this time of year.”

“I see… Perhaps I could…” Albedo pondered, turning on a heel and leaving. Lisa and Jean glanced at one another, then smiled.

“Do you think Albedo can convince her?”

“I'm less worried about him convincing her, and more worried about how she'll react.” Jean sat down. “What did she do last year?”

“Oh, you didn't hear??? I thought I told you~” Lisa grinned, resting her chin in her hands. “She went to Liyue with Albedo for Lantern Rite.”

“Oh, that's right… Has it been that long?” Jean asked. “I didn't realize they had been together for a year.”

“More than a year. It’s quite something. Isn't it?” Lisa smiled cheerfully. “Our dear Mie seems much happier in Albedo's presence.”

“I do have to agree with that.” Jean nodded. “But, I hope she isn't working too hard… I know she's been stressed about her Mora recently. Her rent went up recently.”

-

Albedo made sure to prepare things in advance, and on the day of Mieko's birthday, he went to see her. The workshop door was open, so he walked inside. “I'll be right with you.” He heard her call from her work room. Koyuki rushed out to greet the guest, smiling as Albedo motioned for her to be quiet about who it was.

“Welcome to Echoes, please have a seat.” Koyuki said, grinning and trying not to laugh. Albedo took a seat and let Koyuki go through the motions of greeting a guest and serving the tea. When Mieko emerged, her eyes went wide.

“Albedo?”

“Good afternoon, Mie.” He said to her. “You seem quite busy.”

“Ah, sorry, I got an influx of repairs and orders thanks to Valentine's being right around the corner. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all. I don't mind waiting. Go ahead and do what you need to. I may borrow your kitchen, though.”

“By all means.” She nodded. She went right back to work, Koyuki pouting a little.

“Has she been working like this all week?” Albedo asked the girl. Koyuki nodded. “Then how would you like to help me with something?”

“Okay~” Koyuki went to tell Mie she was going to help Albedo, returning with a smile. “She said ‘Whatever you need’, Mister Albedo.”

“Then let's begin.” He went to cook the dinner he prepared, Koyuki being a diligent assistant. “Do you like assisting Mie, Koyuki?”

“I do. But… I know I'm not very good at a lot of things. Miss Mie is always really patient with me, though.” She smiled as she helped Albedo mix the sauce for the Sunshine Sprat. “But sometimes she looks really sad… I try to help, but I think I make it worse sometimes.”

“I'm sure that's not the case.” Albedo smiled at her. They finished making the food, and Koyuki's mother, Finneh, came to get her. Albedo walked her out.

“Oh? Spending the evening with the birthday girl?” Fiineh asked, smiling. “What a good boyfriend you are.” She chuckled. “Thank you for looking after Mie…”

“Of course. After all, I don't ever want Mieko to feel neglected.” He replied.

“Very good.” The mother and daughter left for home, Koyuki waving to Albedo as she went. The blonde alchemist smiled and headed back inside to check on Mieko, who was still knee deep in her work. He went to set the table before going to retrieve her.

“Mie, dear. It's dinner time.” She jumped a little, looking up at the clock and sighing.

“So it is…” She placed her tools down and went to the door, taking Albedo's hand. “I'm sorry… I kept you waiting.” she smiled sadly.

“Not at all.” He lead her into the kitchen where he had set up the table. He had filled the room with candle light, placed a tablecloth onto her normally barren table, and filled a small vase with flowers. “I have heard you dislike Valentines Day as well as your own birthday, so I tried to keep it simple. But I also thought if I made it a bit romantic, you would appreciate it more.” He explained as Mieko stared at her kitchen.

“You… Did all this for me?” She asked, turning to him finally. Albedo nodded and lead her to sit.

“I realized when Lisa told me that I missed last year, so I wanted to make up for it. As such, I wish to spend the evening with you and make it memorable. Preferably, I would also like for you to enjoy it.”

“Ah, you talked to Lisa and Jean.” She smiled.

“I did. Is the information I was given correct?”

“Yes, it is.” She said as he sat down across from her. They enjoyed their meal, Albedo serving dessert as well.

“I hope you don't mind the flavor of this. I wanted to get you something different.” He said, plating a piece of Muscat Cake for her.

“Oh… I don't mind at all. That's one of my favorites, actually.” She smiled at him. “You really do know me very well.”

“I do my best to do so.” Albedo smiled at her. They enjoyed their dessert and sat down together for a while, soon moving to the couch with some tea. “How have you been holding up with Koyuki being here every day this week?” He asked, Mieko smiling sadly.

"It's... Difficult, since Yuki's been gone for so long… This year makes... Oh, has it been 13 years already...?" she asked softly.

"It's been that long?" he asked, gently playing with her hair. "Oh... I suppose, even though we've been together for over a year now, I never actually asked... How old are you?"

"Only you would dare to ask a woman her age, Albedo." she smiled, chuckling. "But to answer your question, I'm turning 28 this year... Yuki passed away when I was 15."

"Then, you only spent 3 years with her...? I thought it was longer than that."

"To others, 3 years seems like too short a time... But to me... Those three years were equivalent to a lifetime.” Albedo listened to her talk for a while, staring at her and being attentive. He was so fascinated by her speaking, he had never felt like this before now. After a while more of her talking, she turned to him. “I'm sorry. You're not here to listen to me rambling.”

“I honestly don't mind at all.” He replied, smiling at her. “But since you're done for now… Perhaps I could interest you in something more… Befitting, for your birthday? Such as a present?”

“Huh? B-But you already did so much…” She said, cheeks burning as she realized the look he had on his face. “O-Oh… You mean…”

“Only if you like.” He smiled at her. “You certainly enjoyed it the last time. I did as well.” He pulled her into his lap, smiling as she braced herself on his shoulders instead of the couch. “And your weight is very comfortable in my lap… I rather enjoy it…”

“I do hope you don't want to do it here on the client couch…”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to embarrass you a little.” He chuckled. “I’ll let you up so we can go elsewhere, but I won't join you until I clean up the dishes.” he allowed her up and out of his lap, enjoying how red she was. But something stirred in his chest when she retreated upstairs. A feeling he wasn't aware he could have. In all his years, he hadn't felt quite like this before. Not towards a person. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a little while, smiling as he heard clothes rustling. He smiled to himself, heading up the stairs to her, admiring her from the door. She was sitting down on the bed, having changed into something more comfortable. Mieko's eyes were closed and she was taking deep breaths. Her hair was cascading down her back, showing off how long it was.

“Are you going to keep staring at me to make me more nervous?” Mieko asked him, Albedo smiling as he walked closer, standing in front of Mieko before she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Are you nervous, Mie?” He asked her, lifting a lock of her hair to his mouth, kissing the end.

“You make me nervous, staring like that… It feels like you're going to eat me.” She replied, Albedo smiling still at how red she still was. She offered her hands and Albedo took them.

“I just might.” He chuckled, moving to kneel over her lap with one knee on the bed next to her thigh. “But you have nothing to be nervous about. I promise, if it's something we haven't done yet, I'll ask permission first.”

“Th-That isn't the point, Albedo.” She replied as he cupped her cheek.

“Oh? Then what is?” he asked. The smug expression on his face made Mieko feel like she would melt into a puddle. She didn't resist him as he gently pushed her back onto the bed, reaching up to help him undo his hairtie as he moved to straddle her hips. Since she didn't reply, he leaned in to kiss her. “May I, Mieko?”

“By all means, Albedo.”

-

“Mieko, are you still awake? Go back to sleep, dear.” Albedo chided his lover as he felt her tossing and turning.

“Nn, I can't sleep…” she muttered, shaking her head. He turned to look at the clock.

“Mie, it's 4am.”

“I'm sorry… I tried, but my brain just won't calm down…” Albedo turned on his side and smiled softly at her.

“Did I overwhelm your mind with too much?” He teased as she turned to face him.

“Perhaps… Why are you still awake? Or did I wake you?”

“Nn, don't change the subject my dear.” He played with her hair. “Alright, come here. Let me hold you.” he pulled her to him, his hand resting on her lower back.

“No, I'm really alright…”

“Shhhh, don't protest, you need to be up in a few hours, don't you? Sleep, darling.”

“Mnnn…” Mieko melted into Albedo's arms, the blonde running his fingers through her hair and letting her relax. Once she was asleep in his arms, he chuckled.

“You fill my head with thoughts… So many thoughts, Mieko…” Albedo said softly, smiling a bit as she got comfortable and let out a contented sigh in her sleep. “How is it that you, who sees so little in yourself, entices me so?” He spent a while just watching her sleep. “I'll have to continue testing this… And boosting your confidence.” he chuckled, holding her hand before dozing off himself.

-

The following morning, Lisa and Jean stopped by to deliver Mieko her late birthday present, only for Albedo to open the door. “Oh?” Lisa chuckled. “Goodness, you two must have had fun last night.” Lisa smiled, Jean's cheeks red as she realized what Lisa was getting at. Albedo's hair wasn't in it's normal and neat updo, and clearly he had come to open the door in a hurry, as his shirt was only half buttoned. “Is our dear Mie still asleep?”

“She is.” Albedo said rather proudly, something that made Lisa giggle. “Do you want me to wake her?”

“No. Sleep is good for her. Just let her know we dropped this off.” Lisa said as Jean handed Albedo the box. “Have fun treating her to the best post-birthday and Valentine's Day she's ever had~” The brunette sang as she led Jean away. Albedo went back inside, going to get ready for the day before making Mieko some breakfast and coffee. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

“Good morning, Mie.”

“Abedo… Who was at the door?” she asked. Clearly she was still half asleep, only wearing her sleep shirt.

“Jean and Lisa.” He replied. “They dropped something off for you.” Mieko went to inspect the box, placing it's contents on the counter.

“Mmm, lovely coffee and tea.” She said happily before going to brew some of her present to share with Albedo alongsidehis cooking, Albedo enjoying the sounds of her humming to herself while she worked. “Are you going back to work after this?”

“No. I was hoping I could stay with you? I have missed drawing you as of late.”

“Oh…? You have?” She asked.

“Yes. You are fascinating to draw, especially your hair.” He replied. “I am only sorry I didn't get to draw your hair last night.” He smirked, her cheeks turning as red as he had ever seen them go. “Perhaps tonight, you would give me another opportunity?” He watched her turn away out of embarrassment. “Is that a yes, my dear Mie?”

“You'll have to compensate me.”

“Of course. How would you like me to do that?”

“Allow me to patch the holes in your coat.” She said simply.

“Holes?” He looked down at his coat, realizing that indeed, there were some small holes. “Mm, very well.” he smiled, shrugging off the coat for her. “Now, let's see… What view would be best?” He muttered to himself, perching himself somewhere so he could draw her while she worked.

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

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

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching 

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

Next →Part 5

Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward. 

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you. 

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy. 

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair. 

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park. 

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat. 

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed. 

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different. 

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret. 

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses. 

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish. 

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him. 

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated. 

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand 4: Ghosts of Pasts // Day 1

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au

Word Count: 2,800+

Warnings: Reminsing of last chapter, Injury, Meteor City mentioned

Author Note: Ah! I’m glad to be back writing this series sorry for the long wait. I split chapter 4 up into multiple parts so it’s going to be looooong.

Also, I’ve started a Taglist for all of my series to make it easier for people to find out when the next installation is. So if you want the be added just sent me an ask thats not anonymous and I’ll add you.

<—(Pt.3) / (Pt.4.2)—>

A Helping Hand Masterlist

It was the eve of December 18th, when snow finally fell throughout the Republic of Padokea. However, there was no celebration or cheer by the citizens as all of the festive winter holidays had already passed by then. With most just deciding to bunker in for a quiet night at home. Even at the Hospital near the bloodthirsty Heaven’s Arena it was rather quiet, almost dull in a way.

Though, one specific doctor, Doctor (y/n) of the intensive care unit, had little to complain about the lack of patients and activity. It was rather refreshing actually, mostly due to the fact it was your last night on the job before you went on your week long holiday break, a break you had planned out with your supervisor months ahead of time.

Months before you had met a specific man. Much more specifically, a specific patient named Shalnark Ryuseih. A member of the infamous Phantom troupe who you had saved from his demise at the Heaven’s Arena.

…. As well as someone you might have developed a really really big crush on during your time taking care of him. But, that’s a story for another day and something you shouldn’t be worrying about right now. Especially since you still have plenty of time left on the clock before you go home.

As the seconds click a way, you find yourself letting out a groan. It was no use. You couldn’t get him out of your mind.

You just wished that it was the usual thoughts of Shalnark that festered in your mind during work. The ones that were caused from something as simple as him holding you in his arms tighter than usual while he slept one night or perhaps a teasing comment he shot at you while passing in the hall.

But that sadly wasn’t the case.

For the last couple of weeks, Shalnark had been acting…… weird.

Well he technically always acted weird—a man who actually enjoyed indulging in birthday cake flavored ice cream could not be considered normal in your book— but this time, he was actually acting quite strange.

Sometimes, when doing check ups or just visiting his room you could hear him sigh. It was quite unnoticeable at first, you had just thought he was frustrated with some new tech thing he got into, but as December went on the sigh only got heavier and more frequent. This was also when some of Shalnark’s other actions started to be strange as well, something as simple as,“What are you doing for the Holidays?” Or, actually now that you think about it, anything that was remotely related to the holidays would have the corner of his lips drop slightly. Something very strange for him, for he hardly faltered that smile of his.

And it wasn’t as if you weren’t trying to find out what was wrong. You had asked him plenty of times about his new habits. Though, in a Shalnark fashioned way, he would just brush you off with a grin and be confused as to what you were talking about.

So, if Shalnark isn’t going to tell you himself what was wrong. You were just going to have to take it upon yourself to make him feel better. Emotional health is just as important as physical health in your book.

“For the last time (y/n), I hope you know what you are getting yourself into.” Mal reminds you for the 15th time since you entered her office space.

“Yes, yes. I understand, don't worry about it.” You reassure the older woman as you continue to fill in the blanks to finish up the paperwork. All the while attempting to ignore her as she nags your ear off. “Okay I’m done. Thanks by the way Mal, I really owe you one”

As Mal takes the paperwork from your hands, she gives you one last warning of caution,

“I know Shalnark is under your care and all, and you have gotten pretty close to him during his stay…. but don’t you think having him leave with you for vacation is a little much? It’s legal, for some odd reason, but you should be careful. Not only is he a grown man that could try anything while you are alone with him but if any of the higher ups hear about this, you could get in a lot of trouble.”

“True, but I doubt that,” You hum out as you fumble with grabbing your winter coat off the rack, “The higher ups don’t exactly care much about paperwork unless one of the secretaries, like yourself, reports something. So unless you choose to report me, I don’t have much to worry about.”

“Fine. Just…. be careful. I swear you have been getting more and more reckless the more you spend with that man.”

“I will. Don’t worry, Mal. See you in a week!!”

“Okay, see you in a week.” Mal responds back, her wave goodbye immediately faltering as you close the door. Taking a deep breath to calm down the uneasy feeling in her gut, She just hoped you knew what you were doing.

Once Mal sends you off, you make your way in the direction of Shalnark’s room. You are excited to tell him about your little surprise but also quite scared because you did not exactly ask him… permission…. to sign him out.

“Come in.” Shalnark's voice rings out from behind the door as you knock. Coming into the room, you see that, as per normal, Shalnark was clicking away at his laptop. He seemed busy with something since even when you took the seat at his bedside he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the screen.

After a couple more minutes of listening to the clicking of keys, Shalnark finally closes his laptop and turns his attention to you.

“Hello (y/n)! What brings you in here today?” He asks, resting his chin on one of his hands as he observes you. As Shalnark scans you up and down you can’t help but notice the mischievous look in those blue eyes of his. You kind of wondered what he was thinking, or possibly planning, but then again— knowing Shalnark —you didn’t want to know what was running through that brain of his.

“Can’t I just visit you?”

“I guess you could.” Shalnark comments halfheartedly as if you don’t already visit him for fun on the daily already, “I’m just surprised you haven’t gone home for your vacation. It’s your last shift tonight, right?”

Shalnark might have asked the last part as a question, but you already knew— from tons of experience with dealing with him —that he already formed his own answer in his head.

“Missed me that much huh?...” Shalnark whispers out, his eyes seeming to sparkle under the light as he leans back against the headboard of his bed.

“S-shut up.” You grumble out. Swiftly putting the paperwork in your hand up to your face as you could already feel your cheeks begin to flare up from flusteration. You swore this man had no sense of fear or dignity.

“Hmm?” You feel Shalnark grab at the paperwork wrinkled in your hand; recognizing his photo ID on the cover. “What’s this?”

“Paperwork.”

“What type of Paperwork?” Shalnark presses forward, already taking it from your hand to examine it. No matter how close you two have gotten during his stay, he has always been extremely thorough about looking at what you put down on his paperwork. Must be something he picked up while being in the troupe you guessed.

Suddenly, you see Shalnark’s gaze pause on a section of the paperwork. His body unintentionally freezing up in surprise as he rereads it again. However, instead of instantly asking or explaining his confusion, your eyes are trained to his lips, ever so slightly parted due to confusion.

Unconsciously, you run your fingers over your neck. Your mind flashing back to what happened when Shalnark was under the effect of the aphrodisiac drug. The tingly feeling of his lips raking up and down your neck. Kissing, sucking and biting at any possible skin he could—

“(Y/n), What is this?” He mumbles out, his eyes still trained to the paperwork.

“U-uh Well…” You pause for a second as you try to calm yourself down from your thoughts, thinking about what you should exactly say, “Recently, I’ve noticed you being quite down. Kind of depressed or miserable in a way—”

“Huh? I haven’t been depressed.” Shalnark exclaims, snapping out of the trance he was in as well as cutting off what you were saying.

“Let me finish idiot.” You grumble at Shalnark, flicking his forehead in anger. “Also even if you aren’t depressed—“

“Which I’m not.”

“...Do you want to get punched this time?” You threatened, watching as Shalnark suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Memories flashing in his head of Lara pissing you off and facing your unwavering wrath. After one last glare, you continued what you were explaining, “As I was saying, Even if you aren’t depressed, it would be good for you to get out of the hospital. Hence why I decided to sign you out for my vacation week.”

It’s silent in the room as Shalnark just stares at you; an unreadable expression on his face. However, before you can figure out what expression it was, he quickly snaps out of it.

“Oh nice. That’s actually awesome.” Shalnark announces out, letting out a small giggle. “Just one question though… Is this even legal?”

“In a way…” You squeak out, watching as Shalnark looks at you with a knowing smile. Clearly understanding that you were pressing the line of legality and a possible felony in this situation.

“Well,” You watch as Shalnark shuffles out of bed; Planting his feet in front of yours before sending you a subtle wink, “Let’s get out of here before we get caught, okay?”

—.—.—.—.—.—

“So,” Shalnark starts, looking at the small white townhouse in front of him, “This is your house?”

“Um. Yeah?” You answer questioningly as you fiddle with your keys, “What about it?”

“Oh nothing.” You watch as Shalnark squats down in front of the garden gnome next to your tomato plant. Seeming to take in the plethora of plants covering your front patio. “It’s cute. I like it.”

“Thanks.” You mumble out bashfully as you unlock the front door, “I only rent the bottom floor of this place so it's quite small. But it's home.”

Before you enter, You offer a hand to help Shalnark up (He still has quite the injury in his legs after all) and watch as he walks inside your house; a limp still ever present as he walks. You just hope that he doesn’t push himself too far while with you. He might be a nen user but—

“Oh wow!” Shalnark’s voice calls out from inside the house, breaking your train of thoughts as you shut and lock the door. Confused yet curious at what he found interesting in your house, you slipped off your shoes—taking a small mental note that you should tell Shalnark to take off his as he forgot to— and walked over to his location. As you round the corner of the hall and gaze into your living room, you can’t help but let out a huff of a laugh. You can’t believe you totally forgot about Chloe.

There she stood, your 8 year old Sphynx cat that a college roommate had given you years ago, curled up in a fluffy blanket on top of her cat tree. Shalnark stood in front of the tree, looking up at the cat with an amused look as it glared down at him.

“Chloe.” You call out to your cat as you make your way next to Shalnark, “Come here baby.”

As you lift the cat off the tower, still wrapped in a blanket, and cradle her in your arms, you feel your breath hitch for a second. You turn your head as you feel a sudden pressure on your back and see Shalnark leaning over your shoulder. You stood there frozen and flustered, unable to move or look away from his face, from how close he was to you. However, Shalnark doesn’t notice how flustered you are; his attention focused on the cat in your arms. Eventually, he brings his hand down to pet her. Watching curiously as she sniffs his hand for a second before allowing him to touch her.

“They truly don’t have any fur…” Shalnark muses out as he rubs at Chloe’s ears, causing you to smile as you feel the rumbling of her purrs against your chest. “Hey (y/n)... did you know these guys are actually from Meteor city?”

“Wait… Really?” You shout out surprised, finally snapping out of the trance you were in.

“Yep!” Shalnark states rather proudly, “They were caused by accidental breeding by abandoned cats in the junkyards. …Though, the ones from Meteor city are quite rabid and terrifying so you can’t pet them like this. They would surely kill you.”

Startled, you give Shalnark a confused look, “No way…You're joking…”

“Nope.” He responds, popping the ‘p’ at the end as he walks away from you two and takes a seat on the couch. Your back suddenly feeling quite cold now that he was no longer next to you. “Even our toughest members like Phinks and Feitan were scared of those things.”

“Oh wow…“ You mumble out in amazement, placing Chloe back at the top level of the cat tree before taking a seat next to Shalnark. “...Meteor City sure sounds scary.”

“Eh, in a way.” Shalnark sighs out, stretching his back before suddenly resting his head on your lap. Startled at the act of affection, you freeze and stare down at him. Your mouth agape in shock. What… What was he doing?

“Oh.” Shalnark murmurs out as he takes note of your expression, already beginning to sit up, “Sorry, I stepped over a line didn’t I—”

“Ah! No!” You shout out, startling the both of you at how loud you were, “I mean… uh. I don’t mind, it just surprised me that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay?” Shalnark says, raising an eyebrow at you. As he sees your still worried expression looking down at him as he lays back down, he decides to flick at your forehead, surprising you. You two stare at each other for a couple of seconds before breaking out into light laughter at your stupid expression.

“W-what was that huh?”

As your laughter eventually stops, leaving you two in a comfortable silence, you stare down at Shalnark; his arms lazily crossed above his head with his eyes shut.

“You know…” You start, a stifle of a giggle sneaking up as a funny thought crosses your mind, “...You remind me of a cat right now.”

“Oh really?” Shalnark huffs out amused, popping one of his eyes open to gaze up at you.

“Yeah. All elongated on the couch, looking like you're about to fall fast asleep… Just like a little kitty cat.” You cooed out at him, taking two strands on the opposite sides of his head to form cat ears.

Shalnark sputters out a laugh before sending you a wink, “Go on. Give me a pet, Doc.”

You feel yourself freeze up as everything that has happened in these last couple of minutes hits you like a truck. Shit… You're his doctor, you idiot. This was what Mal was talking about about you getting too close with him. You have feeling for him but you can’t—

“Hey (y/n). You know…” Shalnark murmurs out, snapping you out of your thought, “One day…, I would like to take you to Meteor City.”

“R-really?” You answered, confused as where this was suddenly coming from.

“Yeah…” You watch as Shalnark eyes shift up towards the ceiling. His eyes unfocused and expression dazed as if he was off in a distant memory, “Not right now… But, In the spring…”

A smile slowly edges its way onto his face.

“Yeah… The spring,” He murmurs out again, sort of to himself, before looking at you, “You wouldn’t believe what it is like in Meteor City at the start of spring, (Y/n)... After a long hard rainy winter, seeds from rotten food, or hidden in garbage, come blooming out. It hardly lasts a month but… It’s gorgeous….”

As he stares up at you with those dazzling blue eyes of his, you can’t help but finally allow your hand to rest in his blonde locks. Wanting to understand more about that far off memory he had.

“I-I…” You murmur out, pausing as a small smile comes upon your face, “I can’t wait… Shal. Do… Do you think you could tell me more about your home while I wait?”

Just…

Just one more time, you’ll let your affections slide.

Allowing yourself to blur the lines of professionalism and wanting more.

Taglist: @meromelodi, @quartetstarheaven, @yumezai, @lvndrhwis, @writtenappreciation , @jojo-sinner, @pastelbear12, @aly-kurta, @bbunnycore, @feifood

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {11}

Chris Evans x Reader Mini Series

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Angst, Scorching Slow Burn, Tease

Words: 6.2k

Note: Okay, so this ask/request came in and I was all prepped to write it as a one shot, but I had so many separate ideas that sprang to mind for it and from it. As of right now, I am going to play this one by ear. Hell, I might just keep writing it as long as we’re all in our quarantine/self-isolation. So, it might be one part every week, or I might change it. I honestly have no idea, so let’s start with calling it a mini-series and see where it goes. Thank you anon for the request, hope it’s cool I tweak, twist and stretch this out. 

I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you for reading as always!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

**Images NOT My own. 2nd, 3rd, & 4th found Via Pinterest**

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Quarantine: Week Seven & A Half –

“I’m glad that you guys are doing okay, mom. Tell dad not to go on those walks with Mr. Beardsley. Tell him to stay his ass home,” you badgered.

 “You know that man does what he wants. The other day he was in the backyard building some abomination he calls a bird palace. Y/N, he made a three-story house for a bird,” your mother informed. You couldn’t help but laugh.

 “I sent you the picture. Look.”

 You put your cell on speaker and looked at the new message with the photo attached. The most hideous creation appeared on the screen. It was lopsided and looked like it had every board out of place.

“Oh, my goodness.”

 “Do you see? Then he had the nerve to ask me if he should paint it to make it more appealing.” You busted out laughing then. There was no way you could have held it in. All you could imagine was this atrocity painted yellow, blue, or even red.

 “I didn’t know what to tell him. He worked for hours on it,” your mother went on.

 “So, what did you go with?” The line was silent for a while before she sighed.

 “I told him to paint the damn thing rainbow colored. Told him it would attract more birds that way.”

 The two of you laughed together, not bothering to care how loud you were. After a few minutes, the two of you quieted down. You needed a good laugh.

 “How are you, darling?”

 “I’m fine, mom. Things are quiet as the world passes me by.”

 “So dramatic. Glad to see nothing has changed from when you were a child.”

 Rolling your eyes, you took a sip of your Arnold palmer and leaned back in the lounge beach chair. It was another beautiful day. Mother nature was laughing. While most of the world was locked away, unable to fully enjoy the great outdoors, she was serving Spring goals with upper seventy degree and sunny weather days. You were lucky to be near a beach and able to take advantage of it.

 “I’m not dramatic, I’m--,”

 “Just spirited, yeah, yeah yeah,” your mother filled in echoing the same words the same way you’d said them since you were six.

 “I don’t appreciate the shade, mom!”

 “Girl, watch your tone.” Pressing your lips together, you got your head on right. Your mother would slap you into next month if you played with her wrong.

 “What’s wrong? Is it Chris? Did he look at you and roll his eyes again?” She snickered, and you rolled your eyes again. She was always teasing you about the way you complained about Chris.

 “That boy is clearly head over heels in love with you. Anyone with one half good eye can see that.”

 “You don’t know what you’re talking about, mom.”

 “The hell I don’t. I am a woman too, Y/N. I know what a man looks like when he’s got it bad. I’ve been married to one for the last thirty-four years.”

 Taking another sip from your glass, you burrowed deeper into the chair and watched the waves roll onto the sand. The water was a lot calmer now in the afternoon than it had been earlier this morning, you thought.

 “All right, since you want to play dumb, and blind,” your mother sighed out.

 “Actually, mom, I have a question. Did you have Chris promise to stay away from me or something along those lines?”

 “Why would I do something like that?”

 “I don’t know, you tell me.”

 “I don’t know. Okay, wait—he has the reputation of being a ladies man.”

 “You mean a whore?”

 “Y/N!”

 “In twenty-twenty, we call people what they are. We don’t sugar coat. He has a reputation for being a whore.”

 “He’s a man, an unmarried one at that. He has no reason to be celibate. You also need to remember that just because someone appears to be living one way doesn’t mean that is really what it is,” your mother attempted to reason.

 “What does that mean?”

 “He could be sleeping around but doesn’t want to.”

 You snorted and shook your head. “So he’s being forced to sleep with every blonde, brunette, and occasional redhead he comes across?”

 You shook your head, realizing you were actually getting angry about it.

 “You sound jealous, babygirl. Jealous women aren’t attractive, plus your jealousy gives away how you really feel about him.”

 “Feel? Whatever mom. I don’t feel anything.”

 “Okay. Just remember the lies we tell will always be revealed.”

 You hated when she tapped into her ancestral priestess side and read you like a book. You knew you were lying. You knew you didn’t feel nothing. You felt something alright, but at the moment, you didn’t know just what it was.

 “To answer your question, no, I didn’t make him promise anything.”

 “Then who would?”

 “Maybe Scott. They’re brothers, and he knows Chris through and through. Maybe he was trying to protect you from becoming yet another notch.”

 You thought about her words. It was possible. Honestly, Scott was raising to the top of your list the more you thought about it. It felt like something he would do to protect you. The only thing you couldn’t understand was why he felt the need to make him promise. From the very beginning, everyone has always thought Chris just didn’t like you. The way he acted toward you and spoke about you did not scream that Scott had something to worry about. Since there was no evidence to how Chris felt, then why would Scott make him promise something like that, you wondered.

 “Can I take this conversation as you having ended things with that other one?”

 Groaning, your head went back to Charles. Things with him were still up in the air. When you made a break from someone, there was nothing left suspended. You made a quick, clean break, usually disappearing without a trace. Everything was just weird. Part of you felt as if you were being too cold with him and that you should give him a genuine chance. Then when you thought that, Chris’s face popped into your head as a reason not to. It was like there was this war inside of you between two guys.

 “The other one is—focusing on himself right now.”

 “Ah, you kept your wall up, and he got frostbite from being left out in the cold, and he gave you an ultimatum.”

 “I hate when you do that.”

 “Don’t hate the player, gate the game. Honey--,” your mother began before you cut her off.

 “I don’t want to hear it, mom. Not now.”

 “Okay. You’re an adult, old enough to make your own decisions and mistakes. You don’t need your mother’s wise years of experience and words to help guide your way so you don’t make as many mistakes as others would. I understand.”

 This was the guilt trip no one had mastered like your mother. She could guilt you with so little. Sighing loudly, you finished off the glass. “Fine, mom, go ahead. Priestess me.”

 “Maybe use this quarantine time to figure out why you’ve always cared so much what Chris Evans thought of you. Think about what it is you want from your life—for your life. What’s important, babygirl? Maybe the way you’ve lived these last years is not the most conducive to getting what you really want. Maybe you need to open up, lower those walls, give people a chance instead of expecting them to disappoint and hurt you, pull them closer instead of pushing them away. Take a chance on what you really want.”

 You sat there letting her words resonate. You knew she knew what she was talking about, and you knew it was all coming from a place of love, but it didn’t stop the feeling of being attacked. You hated when she was right.

 “You’ve always liked Chris. This is what this is about,” you accused.

 “That is not true. I don’t care that every time I’ve met him, he’s been respectful, kind, and sincere. I don’t care that every Christmas he sends us a gift, and every New Year a card. I don’t care that he also does the same for our birthdays and anniversaries. I don’t care that he’s shown to be a good man despite his philandering ways.”

 “Wait, wait, wait. He’s what?”

 “What?”

 “Mom. He’s sent you guys gifts and cards?”

 “Yeah, I thought you knew. He also comes by and checks on us from time to time when he’s in town and calls when he’s out of town sometimes,” your mother revealed.

 You were floored. You didn’t know any of this. Your head began to spin, making you feel like you’d put more than a few ounces of rum in the glass. The ringing in your ears did nothing to help matters. All you could hear was your mother’s confession echoing in your head.

 “Y/N! Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

 You took a few shaky breathes and did your best to calm down. “I’m fine. I just—I didn’t know any of that.”

 “Oh. So he’s been doing all this in secret and not to impress you?”

 You rubbed your forehead and pinched your nose bridge.

 “That means that Air B&B in Los Angeles your father and I stayed at when we went on vacation last year was probably not just a normal Air B&B.”

 “What?”

 “He set it up for us, said he got a great deal and took care of everything. It was beautiful. Do you think it was his house?”

 You remembered that trip. Your parents sent you picture after picture of the view and the interior of the house. You wanted to go back to them now and play detective.

 “Oh my god. I had no idea about any of this.”

 “Now that you know, what’re you going to do with it?”

 Again, your eyes went back to the water, and in seconds, you’d zoned out. “I’ll call you tomorrow, mom. Call me if anything. I love you.”

 You sat there for several long minutes just allowing the conversation to swirl in your head. When the words quieted, and your internal freak out settled you scrolled through your phone to the pictures you’d saved because you liked the décor. It took a few minutes, but when you found the set, you sat there zooming in to the max to analyze every inch of the picture. Nothing gave it away to be Chris’s house. Nothing pointed to it not being a run of the mill Air B&B. It was very nice, though. In the last picture, you zoomed in and saw something in the wall that could have been a picture of Chris and his siblings when they were younger, but from the picture, it was blurry, and you really couldn’t make it out. You could have latched on to that and deduced it was his house, but you were scared to face that fact.

 For the last three years, while he was being a world-class asshole to you, he was being a prince to your parents. You couldn’t wrap your head around his strategy. If he liked you the way he professed what in his mind said the way to get you was to be a dick to you but make your parents fall in love. It made no sense.

 When you finally got up from the chair, the sun was beginning to make its descent behind the horizon. You had maybe an hour before nightfall. You intended to go back to the guesthouse to shower and just mellow out, but your legs decided to walk. When you looked around, you were surrounded by trees and greenery. You had no idea where you were or how long you’d been walking or in what direction you walked. After spinning around a few times, you noticed the worn path before you.

 “Where the hell am I?”

 Continuing forward, you followed the path that looked like feet had traveled plenty of times. The further you walked, the less condensed the trees and bushes became, and the more your curiosity rose. After another ten or so minutes, you came to a thicket before you that looked to block your path, but upon more observation, you saw the worn path you’d been walking on continued underneath it. There was something behind it.

 You pushed at the bushes that were entwined within branches and were shocked when it gave way easier than you expected. They parted like a gate. It was a gate. Before your eyes was the quaintest structure you’d ever seen.

 “Holy shit!”

 You stood there, marveling at the tiny house in front of you. Tiny wasn’t even the right word for it. The tiny house trend applied to school buses or shipping containers, not this. This looked like an off the grid, half house, or treehouse. You didn’t know what the fuck you were looking at. You continued walking forward while spinning around to take in your surroundings. The entire area was quarantined off with tall, thick bushes, trees, branches, and vines. It was incredible.

 The more you looked around, the more you fell under its spell. It was beautiful and one with nature. When you got close enough to the house, you could see scratch marks on the deck. You knew they were from Dodger. This must have been where Chris disappeared to. Stepping onto the deck, you took notice of the two Adirondack chairs, one blue the other red. Trailing your fingertips across them, you continued walking around. Every detail and item you saw, you could picture him either using it or sitting on it.

When you got to the door, you contemplated if you should go inside. This was not your property. You were snooping. It wasn’t right, but your curiosity again won out. When you turned the knob, it moved. It wasn’t locked. You stepped over the threshold and gaped at the space. It wasn’t as big as the big house, but it was in no means cramped. The wooden floors and walls gave you a feeling of comfort. Everything laid around screamed down to earth. It was the vibe Chris always gave off when he wasn’t being a dick.

 You looked around what was the living room, and then made your way to a galley kitchen that screamed man. It had the necessities, a stovetop, fridge, dishwasher, a conventional oven, and a sink. The butcher’s block countertop gave you the idea it had been used often. As you made your way through the dwelling, you took notice of a small bathroom that had no luxury, a toilet, a tub, a sink, and an incredible view. When you made it to what you knew was the bedroom, his scent bombarded you. It was the same scent from his bedroom in the house, pine, fresh air, fragrant wood, chocolate, hops, and something that you still hadn’t been able to pinpoint in all the years you’d known him.

 You wandered around the room, looking at everything you saw. The things in here looked a lot more personal than of that was in his room before. You saw a signed baseball, family pictures, empty bottles of beer, toiletries, and papers that were strewn around. It took every ounce of strength to ignore the bed in the room no matter how loud it called your name. You wanted to roll around in his sheets and wrap yourself in them, but you knew if you did that, you’d probably never get out of the bed. Without being able to control yourself, you approached it, climbing the few steps to it and touched one of the plaid shirts that were resting at the foot of the bed.

 “Don’t do it, Y/N.” As soon as the words left your mouth, the head ignored them and did just what you’d said not to. You took in a deep whiff of his shirt and moaned. Fuck, it smelled so good that your mouth actually watered. Disgustedly you threw the shirt and stomped out of the room, cursing his name.

 The more you saw, the more you liked, and the more you liked, the more you wanted to see him in it. You wanted to watch as he cooked in the kitchen, watch as he sat in the Adirondack chair, wanted to watch as he drank bottle after bottle of beer while sitting in that leather chair with a book or his laptop. You wanted to watch how he fit in that tub; it seemed impossible. You wanted more than you’d wanted in months, years—ever.

 You opened the fridge and took out one of the many bottles of beer and hit it on the side of the butcher block countertop and took several healthy gulps. When you brought it back down, what you saw took your breath away. The view of the sun setting was breathtaking. You walked out to the front deck and sat in one of the chairs and just watched mother nature’s artwork across her natural canvas.

 Before you knew it, you’d watched the sky turn from beautiful hues of purple, orange, pink and red to a navy color with specks of white. You couldn’t get over how the stars were so bright here. You were so lost in the view that when you heard Chris’s voice, you actually jumped.

 “Shit!” Your scream was loud, and before you knew it, you’d flung the bottle at him.

 “Woah!” You heard it shatter, and Dodger burst into a flurry of howls. You clasped your hands over your mouth in shock.

 “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

 “Jesus, they should have signed you to the Dodgers, maybe we’d have won more,” Chris teased.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated. Chris ticked his tongue, signaling Dodger to calm down. Like the good pup he was, he came to Chris’s side and sat then pranced over to you to lick across your cheek.

 “Hi, Dodger. How are you, boy? I’m sorry I scared you.” As if he was saying he accepted your apology, he continued licking at your face.

 “What’re you doing here? How’d you find this place?”

 His questions were serious ones. You avoided his eyes and focused on Dodger, hoping he wasn’t too angry at your trespassing.

 “Uh—well, see what had happened was—I was walking and not really paying attention, and I just—found it.”

 “Just found it? It’s a ways away from the main house. How’d you even know which direction to walk?”

 “I didn’t. I’m telling the truth, I didn’t make a plan to walk this way, I was wandering and came across it.”

 Chris didn’t speak again for a little while, but you could feel his eyes on you. Risking it, you glanced at him, and sure enough, his eyes were on you. “And you helped yourself to a beer.”

 “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know it was an invasion of your privacy and trespassing. I’m sorry.” He didn’t speak, but his eyes looked cold. He was angry.

 “Look, I’ll go. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry to impose.” You stuttered as you got to your feet and began walking to the same thicket you’d walked through.

 After a few quick steps, he called your name.

 “It’s okay, Chris,” you answered without stopping or looking back.

 “Go get her, Dodge.” Dodger barked and tramped to you, blocking your path, hopping up on his hind legs to gently claw at your abdomen.

 “Down Dodger.”

 Ignoring you, Dodger kept clawing at you before he got hold of a piece of your shirt pulling you back toward the house. Your protests didn’t matter, and you were actually pretty surprised with how strong he was. He’d been taking it easy on you this whole time. When he was back beside Chris, he let you go and circled the two of you before he sat blocking your path to your escape.

 “Good boy,” Chris muttered, scratching behind his ear. “I’m sorry if I came off terse, I was just surprised. I wasn’t expecting to see you sitting on my deck.”

 “No, you have no reason to apologize. I understand. This is your place. I should have turned my ass around a long time ago. No wonder you’re mad.”

 “Y/N, shut up. I’m not mad. Surprised. Come on.” Chris walked ahead of you onto the deck and toward the door with Dodger on his heels. When he realized you weren’t following him and Dodger, he stopped and looked to you.

 “What’s the problem?”

 “Uh—nothing.”

 “Aren’t you coming?”

 “I wasn’t—planning to,” you responded.

 “Come on. It’s dinner time. Let me feed you.”

 That was all it took for your mind to go into the gutter and your eyes to drop to his crotch. He must have known too because his hips jutted forward. You had to bite your tongue extra hard, not to say what you really wanted to say.

“Jesus, you’re killing me,” Chris grunted before he walked inside, leaving the door open for you.

 Like an idiot, you stood there. You didn’t know what to do. If you went inside, you were worried you’d do something you couldn’t take back. He didn’t come back out or say anything else. After about ten minutes, you slowly walked inside and closed the door behind you. The coast was clear. You walked more in and around the corner and saw Chris in the kitchen with his back turned busy making whatever dinner was.

 “Took you long enough. That’s yours,” he said as he turned and slopped two rounded meat circles on the stovetop. It instantly sizzled and smoked. Beside the stovetop, you saw an opened bottle of beer. It was like he knew you’d come in.

 “If you took any longer, it would have gotten warm. There’s nothing worse than warm beer.”

 “Really? I could think of plenty of things,” you responded before you took a swig.

 “Like what?” Chris plopped two more meat circles on the stovetop to add to the sizzle.

 Monetarily lowering the bottle, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Blue Balls.”

 Once he heard it, he looked at you. There was amusement in his eyes, but his lips were not giving anything away.

“Oh, so you’ve had blue balls.”

 “What you think women can’t get blue balls? We can.”

 “And you’ve had it?”

 “Have you?” Your counter question had him scoffing before he took a long gulp from his beer.

 “I’m a man in his thirties, of course, I’ve had blue balls,” he admitted.

 You finished your beer, hoping it would stop you from asking a highly personal question.

 “How many burgers usually fill you up?”

 You hopped onto the island and crossed your legs. “How many fill you up?”

 “I’m a big boy,” Chris began.

 “I’ve heard.”

 His smile was an embarrassed one. He looked away from you and to the stovetop to focus on the burgers. You watched him add three more meat circles to it and watched on as he tended to them. When he sprinkled several seasonings on the patties, you smiled. There were plenty of people who didn’t season burger meat with anything but salt and pepper. He’d gone far beyond salt and pepper; you were relieved. In no time, the house filled up with the smell of juicy burgers. Your belly rumbled, bringing his attention back to you.

 “Hungry, huh.”

 “More than you’ll ever know.” The two of you stared for a few long moments before he looked away.

 “Since I know you don’t do a salad with your burgers, if you open the freezer drawer, you’ll find some onion rings. Think you can manage popping them in the oven?”

 Obliging him, you did as he asked. The two of you moved around the galley kitchen together. His body was tight, and it looked like he was taking extra care not to bounce you. Every time you got close to touching him, he slinked away from you, creating more space. The first and second time he did it, you found it interesting. By the ninth and tenth, you were amused and ready to tease the shit out of him.

 Noticing his bottle was empty, you bent inside the fridge and took two more out. When you handed him the opened bottle, you peered into his eyes flirtatiously. You didn’t know why but something about him brought out your flirtatious side. You wanted to tease him and make him beg for you. When he took the bottle, he took a sip while keeping his eyes on you. The only reason he looked away was the scent of the burgers charring too quickly.

 The sound of the conventional oven’s bell had you slinking past him grazing his body with your hip. You heard him hiss out felt his body tense. He was easy, you thought. Once you’d taken the onion rings out, you brought them to the back deck, ensuring to play up the sway of your hips. When you walked back, Chris looked to you.

 “These are practically done,” he informed.

 “Then you need a plate.” You walked behind him toward one of the cupboards. “Which one?”

 “The one on top,” Chris answered.

 You reached to the top but still couldn’t reach the platter that was there. After a few moments of struggle, you heard a scoff.

 “Too short?” You felt his presence before you felt him. The heat of his body was an unexpected but welcomed feeling. “Don’t worry, I got you,” Chris whispered before his body pressed against your back.

 A sigh escaped you that ended on a groan. Then you felt his crotch press against your ass. Your eyes closed, and you bent just a little, so your ass pressed more prominently against him. Chris’s groan was the clue you needed to know he liked what he felt. Neither of you moved. You both just froze and relished the feel of your bodies pressed together in this new way. You felt his beard tickle the exposed skin of the nape of your neck, and you’d never wanted someone to bite and mark you as much as you wanted it now. He didn’t bite you, though. You waited and waited, but still, the dull ache of his bite never came. He did press his lips to your ear. You heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

 “You’re not the only one who can tease, Y/N.” It was a guttural whisper that lingered in the air as long as his body lingered against yours. You were sure your panties were flooded, and that was when he moved from you, leaving you with an ache between your legs you knew was going to bother you all night. You looked up, and the platter was gone.

 “Maybe you can grab the beers and meet on the deck,” Chris suggested as he walked away, leaving you in the kitchen with your desires.

 When you walked out back, you had two six-packs of beer in one hand and a bottle of whiskey you’d found on one of the shelves. Chris wasn’t there, and your grumpy ass didn’t care. Wasting no time, you popped the cork of the whiskey and poured yourself a glass full before you knocked it back. The burn was excruciating but wonderful. It distracted you from the ache in another place.

The two of you ate in mostly silence. Your thoughts were miles away, thinking of what happened in the kitchen and how easily he’d turned the tables on you. When your mind wandered to your conversation with your mother from earlier, you decided to bring it up.

 “Why didn’t you ever tell me you check in on my parents and send them gifts and cards?”

 Chris slowed his chew no doubt using the extra time to think of what he was going to say. After almost a minute, he swallowed.

 “It’s not a big deal. I was brought up to be respectful.”

 “Respectful is answering yes ma’am and no sir. What you’ve been doing goes above and beyond. Why do you do it?”

 “Why?”

 “Yeah. Everyone does everything for a reason. What was your angle?”

 Chris scoffed and shook his head, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he put onion ring after onion ring in his mouth as he stared at you. The fact that he wasn’t answering was getting to you, and he knew it. His smirk appeared.

 “Well?”

 “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

 Your jaw dropped. It was an unexpected question. “What?”

 “You heard me. Who hurt you? What was his name so I can find him and beat his ass.”

 “No one—no one hurt me.”

 “Bullshit. There is no way you’re like this for no reason,” Chris countered.

 “Like what?”

 “So distrustful, so skeptical or everyone.”

 “How do you know it’s of everyone and not just you?” Chris stopped mid-chew and stared at you.

 “Okay. Is it just me you’re like this with? Are you like this with him?”

 You knew he meant Charles. He always referred to Charles as “him.”

 “None of your business,” you retorted. Chris snorted.

 “Nah, you’re like this with him too. So, who hurt you?”

 Feeling naked and vulnerable, you poured another glass of the whiskey and gulped it. This was not a conversation you wanted to have.

 “Okay. I didn’t have an angle. I like your parents; I respect your parents. I wanted to do some nice things for them. I was able, so I did.”

 “Just like the Air B&B?”

 He nodded, confirming it. “Look, if I overstepped, tell me. I’ll stop.”

 You thought about it for a few moments and sighed. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for being a bitch. I just—I appreciate you looking out for them.”

 Chris studied you then nodded. The silence between you stretched for minutes.

 “So it wasn’t my parents who made you promise to stay away from me. That leaves Scott or someone else in your family.”

 Chris sighed and leaned back. “It doesn’t matter.”

 “It does,” you countered.

 “Why? What does it matter? You hate me, end of story. Me promising to stay away from you means nothing because staying away from you would have been inevitable,” Chris ranted.

 “I never said I hate you.”

 “You sure act like it.”

 That stung, but it was true. You did act like you hated him. In hindsight, you saw it was your defense mechanism. If he hated you, you’d hate him right back that way, it didn’t matter how he treated you; you wouldn’t feel any way about it. That was all biting you in the ass now.

 “Three years, huh,” you broke the silence with.

 “Three years,” Chris repeated.

 “This is bizarre.”

 “Why?”

 “All this time I’ve thought things were one way when they were the opposite,” you explained.

 “If you don’t hate me, what do you feel?”

 Staring at him, you swirled the glass and thought about just what it was you felt. You knew attraction and desire were in there, but you didn’t know what else. You gulped down the rest of the whiskey and chased it with your beer and groaned.

 “I don’t know what I feel, Chris. That’s a problem for me. I always know what I feel. I always know what I want. I have no clue right now. It’s like I’m out of control. I hate being out of control. I want all the control.”

 “What will make you feel like you have the control?”

 “The fuck if I know. I was doing fine thinking you were a dick, and now I don’t think you’re a dick. I don’t know what to think when I think of you anymore. This doesn’t even matter because you’re supposed to stay away from me anyway.” You stood and walked across the deck, facing your back to him while staring out to the darkness in the trees.

 “It’s the hardest promise to keep. You have no idea. For the last three years, I’ve wanted to do the opposite. I’ve wanted you in so many moments. I was at a premiere a few months ago, and I wanted you to be there with me. I’m lying in my bed, and I imagine what it would be like if you were laying next to me. I’m grocery shopping and think about you doing it with me. I see you in so many moments, and I want you in too many of them.”

 Holy shit, you thought. In less than two minutes, he’d managed to take your breath away. You turned, and there he was, less than two feet from you.

 “Holy shit, Chris,” you whispered.

 “I know, that was heavy, but it is just a fraction of what’s going on in my head, in my--.” Clenching his jaw, he looked away from you to the deck floor to shuffle his feet.

 “This is new for me, Y/N. It’s new, and it’s only with you.”

 As if someone was pulling at the invisible string between you, both of you drifted to each other, closing the space there. Your faces were now inches apart, and with every passing second, those inches disappeared until your foreheads were pressed together.

 “Fuck it, I’m going to break this promise,” Chris whispered before his lips crashed to yours.

 It was like an “aha” moment. As soon as your lips touched, the wind picked up and blew ferociously around you and through the trees. The kiss was an exploratory one, a timid one—one that reeked of apprehensiveness and fear. Both of you were reluctant to cross the line, but you both knew the line was going to be so far behind you in a matter of seconds. That was the definition of inevitable.

 The kiss intensified, and soon the fight was between your lips. You both were battling for control over the other, and neither of you was letting up and giving in. When you heard his deep moan, yours was unleashed seconds later. Chris’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him before his other hand clasped the base of your skull to kiss you more fervently.

 Before you knew it, you’d backed him to the picnic table you were just eating on and had pressed his back to it. When you climbed onto the table and straddled him, Chris groaned and pulled at your hair, making you moan louder and want more from him. The way he kissed you had you feeling as if you’d just woken up from a long sleep, a sleep that had held you captive for far too long. You were famished. As your hips began to grind on him, Chris groaned loudly, sat up, stood, and turned you to the table. With your legs wrapped around his back, Chris grabbed your exposed thigh and squeezed before he pulled you to the edge of the table. You now felt his need, and you were ready.

 When your hands dropped to his pants to undo them, he allowed you. Once you’d unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and was ready to dip your hand inside, Chris groaned and pulled away from you.

 “Mmm, no.”

 “What!”

 “Jesus fucking Christ.”

 “Come here,” you bartered.

 He looked like he was weak as he took a few steps to you, but before you could touch him, he pulled away again.

 “Wait, wait, wait.” You spread your legs wider, tired of waiting. Chris’s eyes dropped to your opened legs, and the clench of his jaw returned, only this time the context was different.

 “Y/N,” Chris whined, but he came closer until you laced your fingers behind his neck and plastered your lips to his. This time you took control of the kiss, you dictated how much he got and as you swirled your tongue around his then sucked it you felt his defiance give way until he was again kissing you with as much urgency as you kissed him.

 “Take off your pants,” you whispered against his lips. He groaned his response, but he didn’t move to obey.

 “Take—them—off—daddy.” Again, he groaned, and you felt him grip the back of your neck before his hand moved to your throat to gently hold you there.

 “Say it again.” His voice was gruff as your eyes locked.

 “Daddy.” Everything in his eyes spoke of a dangerous desire, one that you wanted all parts of.

 “Not like this, Y/N,” Chris whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

 “What?”

 “You don’t want me like this. You don’t deserve this.”

 “This? Deserve?” Chris kissed you again and continued to suck the air from your lungs while replacing it with unadulterated desire.

 “You deserve better than this. Let me give it to you.”

 You looked at him, half confused as to what he was hinting at and even more confused why he was talking and not stripping.

 “Chris--,” you began before he pulled away yet again.

 “Let me be better for you—with you.”

 “How?”

 “A date,” Chris announced.

 “A date? In quarantine? What?”

 “Let me worry about it. Let me wine you and dine you and show you how you should feel about me,” Chris proposed. You sat there horny and unable to think past what you wanted between your thighs.

 “Fuck, Chris. Are you really saying no to this—to me?”

 “Trust me; I can’t believe I’m saying this or even doing this. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me. I just know I don’t want to just—,” Chris said as he moved his hands around, hoping you got the gist. “Ya know, it feels wrong with you. I want to do this right; I want to do right by you.”

 “And a date is doing right?”

 “It’s a start,” Chris added.

 You were speechless. You were also out of your depth here with him. He was blowing your mind and going against every preconceived notion you’d had of him from rumors and internet sites and even stories from Scott and your friends. You didn’t know the man standing before you.

 “What do you say?”

 You covered your face with your hands and rubbed it hoping to clear away the haze that seemed reluctant to go away. “Fine.”

 “Okay, fine.” His smile was beautiful, so beautiful it did things to you that had your belly doing backflips.

 “Fuck,” you whispered.

 “Come on, let me walk you back.”

 You rolled your eyes half hating him, but you allowed him to walk you back.

 The entire walk you were miles away thinking about what almost happened and what you still wanted to happen. When Chris said good night at the door of the guesthouse, he lingered in the doorway, clearly questioning his resolve to leave. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and your heart race. One man definitely shouldn’t have this much power over women. He was like pure sex on a walking stick. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before him—including Charles. That thought was enough for you to run for the hills, but thanks to the wetness between your legs, you remained there and tempted him to give in. When he sighed and dipped his head, you knew he wasn’t going to.

 “Good night, Y/N.” Chris came closer and kissed your forehead before he walked off. Deep down you knew it was going to be a restless and painful night. When you closed the door, you pressed your back on it and groaned out.

 “Motherfucker! I want to fuck my best friend’s brother.”

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Invitation

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood | depictions of firearms/firearm handling | mentions of hunting

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

“Here,” Sam hands you a thick envelope. “Your pay, as usual.”

 You trust Sam not to go behind your back and the mutual agreement set between you two, but you make sure to grab and stop him from walking away with all your produce just yet. You need to count the money he's handed over and ensure every last madol is where it should be. Thankfully, it is, but there are a few extra bills you know aren’t supposed to be in there.

 You remove the extra money and hand it back to him. “You gave me too much.”

 He pushes your hand back and shakes his head. “Consider this my holiday gift for you.”

 You give him an incredulous look. “You sure? Because if you come back here next week telling me I owe you money I’m going to sick the wolves on you.”

 Your threat is met with a hearty laugh from the shopkeeper. “Have I ever done you wrong, my friend?���

 “Yes, you have actually.”

 “Haha, good times indeed!” He casually waves at you as he hauls away your vegetables on a large wooden cart. “Happy holidays!”

 You have half a mind to remind him that the holiday season is over. Instead, you decide that it’s best to just turn around and walk away. The money is in your hands and your produce is in his care and that's all there is to it. This season's harvest is now officially concluded and you can start prepping for the spring. After a long-deserved rest, of course. The few extra madols give you just a little more than what was needed to put down for a brand new generator for the dorm. You have a model already picked out ahead of time. All that's left is to order and wait for it to come in.

 "Well?" Benji floats up to you as soon as you enter the front door. "Do we have enough?"

 You proudly wave the envelope in the air. "We have enough and then some!"

 Your housemates cheer and pull you into a group hug. Frankie takes the envelope from you and heads out, most likely heading to the safe you’ve hidden from Grim so he can put all the money together and deposit it at the nearest bank. Once the ghosts come down from their brief celebratory high, you excuse yourself and head to the backyard where Malleus is waiting for you.

 "I'm back!" you happily announce your arrival.

 "Welcome back," he smiles up at you. "Did you get your payment?"

 "I did!" you nod. "Frankie's taking it to the bank, so I should be able to get that new generator before sunset."

 "That's good. It'll be one less problem for you to worry about."

 "You can say that again," you sigh. "Thanks for your help today. I'm surprised we managed to pick and clean everything up before noon!"

 You situate yourself next to Malleus, who's sitting down on the low porch. Gunter's pups have been following him since breakfast and you don't think they'll be off his heels for some time. It's been like this since they were born. One might even be able to say that they like him more than they do you. Malleus doesn't show it or verbally express it, but you can tell he enjoys their attachment to him. He allows them to jump all over him and drench him in wet kisses without much of a fuss. Who knows, when they grow older they just might start following and taking orders from him rather than you. Maybe he won't need Sebek and Silver to follow him anymore if they stick around?

 You can imagine Sebek being incredibly offended that a bunch of wild wolves took his job.

 Malleus looks at you. "Have you given them names yet?"

 "The pups?" you ask for clarification. "I've been meaning to, but my head can’t think of any. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them."

 Malleus mulls over your offer. He picks up one pup at a time, trying to think of an appropriate name to give them. After about 10 minutes his shoulders go slack and he looks back over to you with disappointment. "I'm afraid I'm drawing a blank as well."

 "Well, you gave it a shot," you clap your hand on his shoulder. "Tell you what. Once we get that new generator, we can sit down and do a bit of name-brainstorming over some tea."

 "Yes, that sounds lovely," he smiles again, and you start to realize that he has a damn good smile. "When do you want to get together?"

 "Sometime next week. With the extra money Sam gave me I can get the generator in faster!"

 Malleus seems momentarily excited, but it quickly dies as he suddenly realizes something. "Can we meet the week after next? I have something important coming up."

 "Sure," you say. "What's happening next week?"

 "It's…" he hesitates. "It's my birthday next week."

 Your eyes pop wide open. "Oh shit, for real?"

 "Indeed."

 One of the pups desperately tries to jump up onto the porch, but his stubby legs and meager strength aren't enough to push him over the edge. As you reach down and help him up, you ask, "How come I'm only hearing about your birthday now?"

 Malleus carefully lifts the other pups onto the porch as well. "You never asked me."

 "No kidding", you snort. "To be honest, I thought that maybe you didn't celebrate it anymore since you're hundreds of years old. Don't birthdays lose their novelty after a few centuries?"

 "They do,” he agrees  “I haven't had a grandiose party since I was about your age."

 "Wow," your eyebrows lift in shock. "That's just rude."

 He suddenly looks so terrified. "I didn't mean it-"

 "I'm kidding!" you quickly reassure him. "Lighten up Tsunotarou! I'm not going to shoot you for poking a bit of fun at me."

 "So you say," he grumbles.

 "I'm not!" you defensively shrill. "If you're talking about the time I shot at those sea worms, I had every right to! No way in hell was I gonna be intimidated into giving my dorm up. Not now. Not ever."

 Those "sea worms" you're referring to are Jade and Floyd Leech from Octavinelle. During exams week, Ace Deuce and Grim as well as many other students who made a deal with Azul for his infamous study guides practically kissed the very ground you walked on in order to convince you to rescue them from their dubious contracts. Initially, you refused their request no matter how much they pleaded or bothered you. It wasn't until Jade and Floyd caught onto this bit of information (it’s hard to ignore a dozen students following you around like a bunch of chicks) that they began to set their sights on you. The two tried to squeeze you into a deal that would release everyone who signed a contract with Azul for his infamous cheat sheet, so long as you could keep up your end of the bargain. 

 It was clearly too good to be true or fair. Nevertheless, you decided to at least listen and attempt to negotiate some sort of proposal that would make both sides happy, if only to have your intruded space restored to normal. Unfortunately, Azul wouldn't settle for anything less than your dorm, which you refused to hand over despite Grim's OK to put it up for grabs. Jade and Floyd insisted you agree to the terms for the sake of your friends and fellow schoolmates, but you bluntly told them something that, to this day, never fails to make Malleus giggle even when he's in a foul mood.

  "You're not getting my fucking dorm! Not now! Not ever!"

 Unfortunately, Jade and Floyd began to follow you around too and even went as far as to visit your dorm during unconventional hours, on a regular basis. Their insistent arguments began to turn into veiled threats, and you aren't the type of person to take them all too well. Malleus remembers visiting you one day only to find you out on the roof, your hunting rifle in hand, keeping a vigilant eye out towards the gates for the Leech twins to make their expected visit. Malleus knew that your weapon is a dangerous one when used correctly, but he did not expect as much power behind it as it had until you shot a couple of live rounds near the merfolk's feet.

 His ears still ring thinking about that powerful discharge.

 "Where is your rifle?" he asks. "Also, where is your falcon?"

 "Twilight? She's still upstairs in her cage." You make a vague gesture towards the second floor.

 Twilight is a falcon that you found during one of your hunting trips, having suffered a nasty injury to her wing. You have some experience with falconry so you immediately recognized her mannerism as that of a hunting falcon as well as her breed, an Aplomado. You tried to find her original handler while you nursed her back to health, but unfortunately, no one came forward to claim her and you decided to keep her. You and her bonded very easily, so rehabilitating and training her to take commands from you was a breeze. While you expected her to maybe leave your side once she was able to properly fly again, she remains determined to stick with you.

 You stand up and turn towards the back door. "I should probably wake her up before she gets mad at me.”

 "I'll watch over these while you do that," Malleus grabs one of the pups who topples over another and refuses to get off of them.

 "Thanks!" You bend down and give him a quick one-armed hug from behind. "You're the best!"

 As you're about to head back into your home, you stop at the door and turn back around. "Are you sure you want me to bring my rifle?"

 "Do you not want to bring it out?"

 "I don't mind bringing it. It's just, not everyone likes to be around guns."

 Malleus nods in understanding. "Well, I'm not like everyone," he playfully remarks.

 "No, you're not," you smile. "I'll be right back then."

 "Take your time," he assures you.

"Rise and shine pretty bird!"

 You lift the dark sheet off of her cage so she can bask in the morning light. Twilight was busy preening herself, but now that you're in her sight she begins to happily screech and shuffles closer to the door, eagerly awaiting for you to open it so she can jump on you.

 You quickly slip on your handling gloves and help her transfer from her perch to your hand. Her sharp talons tightly grip around the sides of your fingers, but the thick leather prevents them from piercing your raw flesh. You snap your fingers a couple of times to get her attention focused solely on you. When she maintains steady eye contact with you, you reach into your pocket and present your other gloved palm to her. In it are some bacon bits you managed to snag from the leftovers of this morning's breakfast. She eagerly pecks and munches down the small meal.

 "It still isn't the best time to go hunting, but how's about I let you out anyways and you can stretch your wings for a bit?"

 She expands her wings and flaps them a few times, a sign that she's eager to take you up on your offer. You haven't taken her out to hunt for about a month, mainly because you were gone half of the time. The winters here are especially harsh, even with a bunch of fire faeries keeping the campus somewhat warmer. The pickings are also dry since most of the wildlife on the island are sticking close to their burrows to stay warm and wait out the season.

 You've been itching to head out into the forest recently, but winter is usually a bad hunting season for you. Luckily, you've met and befriended a few of the locals on the island who live off the bounty of the land as you do. They tend to look out for one another and offer help during difficult times, and the barren winter is no exception. You make a mental reminder to reach out and ask where some of the best hunting spots on the island are once this generator fiasco is all taken care of.

 "Now, you wouldn't happen to know where my rifle is, do you?" you ask her. When she goes to nibble a piece of your hair, you know that she has no clue.

 As you're about to head down to the foyer (you often leave it there), a sudden squeaking noise catches both Twilight and your attention. There, at the other end of the hall, a beady-eyed Jerboa bounces up and down in a steady rhythm in an attempt to grab your attention.

 Scarabia wasn't entirely traumatizing. You met Gizmo, the Jerboa before you, during one of the exhausting desert marches, nearly dead from severe dehydration. The little guy brought you a bit of comfort throughout the entire ordeal. He also was able to bring you the enchanted envelope Malleus gave you before he went back home for the winter break. It immediately sends any letter you place inside it to him once you set it on fire. How else could you have contacted him after your phone was conveniently confiscated after your first escape attempt?

 "Good morning, little guy," you smile down at him. "You wouldn't happen to know where my gun is, do you?"

 It seems he does, as he turns and begins to race down the adjacent hall. He stops every so often to look back at you, making sure you're still keeping up with him. Eventually, he stops in front of a door to one of several lounging areas. This one, in particular, is more the ghosts' lounge than anyone else's. It's filled with all sorts of memorabilia and photos from the dorm's heyday. The ghosts have shared a few stories about the shenanigans they got in when they were both alive and students at NRC. Interestingly enough, the dorm was a sort of "halfway home" for students undergoing the difficult process that is switching to another dorm. The idea was to separate the student from those of their originally assigned dorm so they can better learn and adopt the characteristics of the dorm they wish to transfer into.

 Soon enough, the dorm began to house more and more people. A common feeling amongst the residents of the past was a feeling of displacement or disconnection towards the other formal dorms and the ideals they upheld. While not approved by the headmaster, the residents began to form a sort of pseudo dorm with its own set of principles as well as assigning a dorm leader and vice leader just as the others did. Nothing was ever written in stone, but the ghosts vouched that the main “characteristics” amongst Ramshackle’s past residents was a desire to establish camaraderie with those around them, no matter their background or origins.

 Listening and learning what the Ramshackle once meant to them and so many others hit home for you. You lived near a small rural town, surrounded by people who were willing to share their resources with their neighbors and even the occasional stranger simply because it was a kind thing to do for one another. The students of NRC are willing to put their heads together, sure, but there almost always has to be some sort of catch that benefits the individual.

 Living with students like that is stressful as hell. Somedays you just skip school entirely, having already gone through the many woes and few wonders of high school back in your world. You have zero patience to deal with people who only view each other (and subsequently you) as inferior or a mere stepping stone to trample over. Ace and Deuce are your friends and have proven that they are "exceptions" so to speak. However, they're still just a couple of kids. No matter how well you three communicate and work well with each other, there's just a natural disconnection you feel with them that not even magic can fix. 

 It makes your close connection with Malleus, someone who's centuries older than you, incredibly ironic. You've essentially had your life figured out back home, and in some strange serendipitous way, so does Malleus. He's going to become king of his home country immediately after or sometime after he graduates, while you were going to continue living that nice rural lifestyle you lived back home, alongside your 3 aunts and many cousins. At least, once Crowley finds a way to send you back.

 Maybe that's why his confession felt so much more confusing and intensely when it happened. Everything seemed so linear before he uttered those three words to you. Now, it feels like the clear and concise timeline you've had pictured in your head for months is just one big blob of scribbles and nonsense.

  "Am I doing something wrong?" you desperately ask Frankie. "Because it feels like I made some huge mistake and now it's coming back to bite me in the ass right now."

  "Of course you haven't done anything wrong," he rubs your shoulder reassuringly.

  "Then why does it feel like everything around me is slowly falling apart?" You're sobbing at this point. The cigar you took from him earlier is now abandoned, snuffed out in the ashtray. "Why does it feel like  I'm  falling apart?"

  "Nu-uh," he shakes his head and gives you a stern look. "We're not gonna do none of that. Do you hear me? None."

  "Then what the hell do I need to do?!" you shriek. "Frankie, I'm fucking losing it here. I'm one more backhanded dismissal away from kicking Crowley's teeth in. I swear, if one more overblot happens, so help me. I can't deal with someone else's problems when I can't even get a full night of rest anymore!"

  "You've done nothing wrong, you hear me?" he reaffirms. "I get it, I do. Right now, life is handing you a bad hand and you don't have the people you usually rely on for support. I've been there kiddo. We all have. We may not be like your aunts or your loud-ass cousins,"

  A smile finally cracks on your face. He's using your own words you've used to describe your younger family members. You love the little tykes, but they can be a handful sometimes. 

  Damn, you miss them, your aunts too. They're all that you have left after a messy custody battle with your parents. This garden. Your rifle. Hell, even your insistence at taking over many of the household chores have all been your desperate attempts of finding some sort of familiarity in this new and strange world. 

  "But remember, those in Ramshackle stick together and help each other out when they're in a pinch. We'll handle all the little stuff, the cooking, the cleaning, the occasional clogged pipe," he scoffs, annoyed just thinking about the pipes clogging up again. They've been doing it a lot lately and everyone in the house is incredibly over it. "Right now, your only priority is yourself. Okay?"

  It takes you a moment to really take in his words, but eventually, you nod in understanding. "Alright," you affirm out loud.

  He squeezes your shoulder. "Good."

  A sharp and muffled whistle pulls your attention away. Johnny's voice is a little hard to make out, but you're able to make out "generator working" and "warm coffee".

  "C'mon," Frankie holds open the glass door and ushers you outside. "I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee."

  "I could use two," you sigh.

  He gives one last squeeze around your shoulder. For a moment, it feels like you're back home. You feel a little better too. A little bit more secure.

 As you enter the room, you see that Benji, and Johnny are gathered for the usual late morning/early afternoon poker matches. 

 "Hey, prefect," Benji, the first one to notice your entrance, greets. "Need something?"

 "Have you seen my rifle?" you look around the room for any immediate sign of it. "It's been a while since I used it and I've completely lost track of it."

 "Should be under one of the floorboards here," Johnny, who is playing busy rearranging his cards, says. "If not, try the floorboards in the living room."

 You thank him and begin carefully stepping and tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards, trying to find and search one of many secret spaces made back in Ramshackle's glory days. Nothing dangerous (you hope) was ever hidden. It was mainly used by the students who lived here during its heyday to hide bottles of alcohol and cigarettes. You know, the typical items a bunch of teenage outcasts would keep around.

 There was actually a bottle of some rare and expensive wine that was left behind as the number of residents began to dwindle. You and the ghosts are waiting for the right occasion to crack it open and enjoy the vintage-like a bunch of fiends. Grim won't be having any. Hell no.

 Twilight has temporarily detached herself from your side and perches comfortably on Benji's shoulder. Her talons dig into his white spectral body, but he doesn't wince or show any sign that he's in any pain. She nibbles on his worn scarf to pass the time until you call her. Gizmo busies himself by helping you find all the secret spaces. He finds one and begins jumping over it more enthusiastically. When you pry the wooden slat up, you perk up as the familiar scent of old gunpowder fills your nose.

 "There you are!" you practically sing when you lift the board and see your trusty gun. "And here I was thinking Benji lost you."

 "I heard that!" he shouts, deeply offended.

 "I know," you reply. "Glad to know that your hearing hasn't gone out yet. Had me worried for a while, gramps."

 Johnny erupts in a symphony of loud laughter. While community and mutual respect were a value shared between Ramshackle residents, a bit of teasing and the occasional prank is always welcomed. It's a great way to keep morale up. It's also satisfying to say a remark that makes everyone laugh or have a prank go as planned. So long as no one got hurt, it's all fair game between you all.

 You lift the heavy rifle out of the space and do a routine check. The internal magazine is empty and when you probe the back of the chamber with your pinky you don't feel a loaded round inside. You flip the safety on and off and pull the trigger a few times to make sure the mechanisms are working correctly. You also do a quick count of your ammunition. While guns do exist in this world, coming across bullets is much harder than it is in your world. This is mainly due to the reliance on magically sourced bullets that help reduce the use of resources. Their rarity makes them expensive, and the few blacksmiths who do make them usually don't sell to anyone unless they feel the buyer is a genuine enthusiast of their craft. The buyer also needs to have a license to own them, which you thankfully earned after a few safety lessons and a short exam.

 Lucky for you, the one and only smith on the island who makes bullets was more than happy to provide you with some bullets at an affordable price after you allowed him to ogle your rifle for a few hours. It's an old model, supposedly used by your great grandfather after he was enlisted into the army. When the war ended and he was sent back home, he customized it so it can be used for hunting deers instead of people. Your first aunt Gia was always handling it. Whether she was taking it apart and putting it back together or out in the backyard doing some recreational target practice. 

 She always looked strong yet elegant carrying it around, not that she isn’t without it. During your first year living with her, you tried to imitate her, slinging some large stick you found out in the woods to try to exude the same energy she did. When your second aunt Lucia moved in with your cousins after her divorce, she was quick to reprimand you and confiscate any of the newly found branches you brought back home and waved around as an imaginary rifle. Your aunt Gia eventually began to teach you how to properly and safely handle her firearm. By the time your third aunt Marisol moved in after graduating from university, you were one hell of a sharpshooter and a damn good hunter.

 With the rifle now deemed safe to take to Malleus, you sling it over your shoulder and make your way out of the room. You whistle the signal for Twilight to return to your side and she immediately heeds your command. Her obedience earns her a few more bits of bacon. Gizmo also wishes for some compensation for helping you locate your rifle. You make a quick trip to the kitchen and give him a few raisins to snack on. He's the only one who eats raisins in the dorm, so you don't skimp out on him.

 Blossom does try to snag a few for himself, but a threatening screech from Twilight scares the gluttonous fawn away. That deer sure loves to eat.

"I'm back, again!" you announce as you reclose the back door behind you.

 "Welcome back, again," Malleus regreets you. "And a good morning to you, Twilight."

 Twilight also loves Malleus. She eagerly shifts her feet, desperately wanting to fly onto his arm and properly say hello. You let her transfer onto him once he slips on the safety glove you provide. After a few minutes of giving her loving neck scratches and trying to stop her from nipping at Malleus's ears (she likes them a lot and, now that you’re thinking about it, you do too), you take her back and help send her off into the air for some much needed soaring time. 

 "I see you brought your weapon," Malleus looks at your rifle with an examining eye.

 "I did," you bring it around and into your arms. "Now, why did you want me to bring it again?"

 "No reason in particular," he admits. "I just...I'm quite used to seeing you with it. You're never without it unless you're attending classes."

 A proud smirk finds its way onto your face no matter how hard you try to hide it. "I'll take that as a compliment."

 A potentially stupid idea pops up in your head. "Do you want me to teach you how it works?"

 "Truly?" Malleus looks extremely shocked at your offer. "You dislike it greatly when another person touches it."

 "I dislike it when people who don't know the first thing about gun safety touch my gun," you correct. "But count yourself lucky, because I know everything there is to know about this one right here!"

 "Very well,” he gives a conceding nod. “Have at it."

 This is the most excited you've ever been since waking up in the floating coffin all those months ago. While you aren't the biggest gun enthusiast out there (you only ever use it for hunting), you do like it when people show interest to learn about your hobbies. Ace and Deuce are teenagers, so it's no surprise that they don't exactly find the long and grueling labor that goes into gardening all that exciting. Your firearm is nothing more than a toy in their minds, though Deuce is a bit more serious than Ace is when it comes to safety.

 Speaking of gun safety. "Now, I don't mean to nag but it's important to remember that, under no circumstances, are you to ever point a gun at anyone. Loaded or unloaded."

 Malleus makes a face of confusion. "Then how come you pointed and shot at the Leech twins?"

 "Hey," you put your hands up in defense. "I wasn't shooting at them. I shot at the ground and it just so happens that their feet were near my line of shot."

 "Ah, I see," he chuckles at your convenient excuse. "So shooting near an individual is ok, so long as the bullet doesn't hit them."

 "Exactly," you wink at him. "But seriously, don't point it at or near anyone. And don't look down the barrel. Lilia nearly gave me a heart attack when I caught him doing just that."

 He closes his eyes and gives a deep nod like you just bestowed upon him a great piece of wisdom. "Duly noted."

 "Next is the magazine," you turn and pull back the bolt handle to show him the empty magazine hidden underneath the bolt itself. "This is where you put the bullets. The magazine holds up to 4 bullets, 5 if you keep one loaded in the chamber. Since my gun is an older model, you can’t pop in an external magazine. Unless you're in a desperate situation, it's best to"

 You look up to make sure Malleus is following along with your explanation. Maybe he is, but it's hard to tell when his eyes completely ignore the rifle you have set between the two of you and instead keeps his eyes focused solely on you. Your throat immediately dries up and you feel your heart begin to beat just a bit faster after it skips a beat. The look he's giving you is the same one he gave you at Scarabia, a content, and dazed smile. There's a hint of melancholy in his expression, evident by how the inner corners of his eyebrows turn upward. 

 He looks so at peace, yet so sad.

 "What's wrong?" you ask, though you know full well what's making him feel that way he does.

 He shakes his head in denial. The visual sadness goes away once he settles. "Nevermind me. Keep talking, please."

 "R-Right," you stutter. "Where was I again?"

 "You said your gun is an older model."

 "Right," you remember. "Since the model is old, it's best not to reload too quickly, otherwise you risk jamming the gun and in some cases, you might break a mechanism."

 You feel a faint vibration underneath your leg. Thinking it's your phone (now set back to vibration mode) you start to pat down your clothes to try and find the device. Surprisingly, it actually came from Malleus's phone. It keeps pulsing in fixed intervals, likely from someone calling him. He quickly pulls it out and clicks on the red reticle, sending the caller to voicemail without batting an eyelash. You couldn't see who was calling, but you swear their name started with an 'S'. Could it be Silver or Sebek calling? You hope it's not Sebek because once Malleus starts to manually decline his calls, the next person he usually rings up is-

 You feel another vibration, this time it's coming from your phone that you apparently left in your back pocket. Lo and behold, it's Sebek that's calling you. You show your screen to Malleus, who makes a dramatically loud sigh of exhaustion. Sebek...While he's well-intentioned and has his charming points, he can be a bit of a handful...

 Ok, that's too nice a way of putting it. Really, as passionate as he is, he can be a bit annoying to deal with sometimes. You're trying to be polite as you can be with him because you've been told that Faes offended easily and you're not going to be that asshole. Though, you’ll be the first to admit that he’s such an easy and fun target to joke around with. Blame the ghosts, their behavior is gradually rubbing off on you.

 His protectiveness and the deep admiration he has towards Malleus is a little quirky, even cute at times. It reminded you of a child vehemently protecting their parent from their lover, not that you and Malleus are dating or anything. 

 Why did that last part feel weird to say in your head?

 "Go ahead and answer," Malleus concedes. "I’m not entirely in the mood to listen to his shouting in the middle of the day."

 "Oh, his heart would break if he heard you," you place a hand over your fake-pained heart. "You are such a cruel man, Great and Benevolent Malleus!"

 The two of you erupt into a brief fit of laughter. After calming yourself down, you answer the phone. "Hello, you've reached the Ramshackle dormitory." 

 You have to turn away and cup your free hand around your mouth so the phone doesn't pick up Malleus's uncontrollable giggles.

  "Human!”  he shouts into the phone and you have to pull it back to alleviate your overwhelmed eardrum. “  If you would kindly put Lord Malleus on the phone, I would greatly appreciate it."

 You look over to Malleus, but Sebek was loud enough that you don’t have to mouth anything to him. He gestures for you to hand the phone over to him, but you put your hand up to tell him to give you a moment.

 "If you want to talk to Malleus, press two,” you blankly say. “Those are the rules."

  "Human! I don’t have time for your terrible jokes!"

 Malleus then gestures for you to hand over your phone. "Do as they say, Sebek," he calmly commands.

 Your hands slap against your mouth to cover the loud and ugly screech you make when you hear the loud dial noise come right after. 

 The two talk for a while. It’s mainly Malleus listening to whatever Sebek is passionately rambling about while giving the occasional hum and idle acknowledgments. At one point during the call, he looks over to you and frowns. You mouth “what’s wrong?” but he shakes his head and looks away. Once he hangs up, he lets out a very stressful sigh and slumps a bit. He’s upset.

 “Hey,” you move your rifle and scoot closer to him, giving him a gentle shoulder bump once you’re near. “Talk to me. What did Sebek say?”

 “It’s nothing important,” he continues to dismiss. “Just a trivial matter.”

 “ Malleus,” your voice becomes stern. “C’mon, talk to me.”

 He tends to downplay his troubles since he thinks they pale in comparison to the many other aspects going on in his life (being royalty can’t be easy). When it was clear that you were more than just an acquaintance, Lilia gave you a bit of advice about Fae behavior so you can better communicate with Malleus and get him to open up to you. Faes cannot lie, but they can give half-truths, and, depending on how powerful one is, they can tell white lies. It took a bit of work, but eventually, you gained enough of Malleus' trust as well as reassured him that you won't up and abandon him for simply voicing his opinions or feelings, even if you might disagree with him.

 “You first,” he says insistently.

 Also by the advice\of Lilia, you have a bit of an ongoing exchange with Malleus. For every instance he bears his inner thoughts and feelings to you, you have to tell him something about yourself that others don’t know about. 

 Have all your facts been embarrassing admittances? Yes, they have.

  “No offense, but aren’t Fae notorious for being a bit...y’know?”

  “Mischievous?” Lilia snickers.

  “Right,” you cross your arms in an attempt to provide yourself with a bit of comfort. Lilia’s casual demeanor surely isn’t helping you. “Telling Malleus all my innermost secrets is surely going to come back and bite me in the future.”

  “Well, in most circumstances you wouldn’t be wrong.” Suddenly his playful voice becomes firm and actually assuring for once. “However, there is no need for concern. I can say with certainty that whatever you tell Malleus, no matter how embarrassing or incriminating it is, will forever remain with him and him alone.”

  The old Fae pats you on the head, despite being taller than him. “He cares deeply about, truly.”

 That fuzzy feeling in your chest returns. Your hands have an itch to fidget with something to try and distract yourself. It ends up being a strand of your hair that gets blown in your face after an especially chilly gust of wind dishevels it. That’s when a small bulb lights up in your head.

 “I hate the winter,” you admit. “The long nights throw me off and I have terrible luck running into wild game when I head out into the field. Really, it's cold weather that I hate in general.”

 “Interesting,” Malleus clearly takes in and files away this new fact he’s learned in his head. “This likely isn’t a surprise, but I enjoy this time of the year.”

 “What's winter in the Valley of Thorns like?”

 Malleus, shocked at hearing your sudden interest in his home, begins to paint as detailed a picture as he can about the kingdom during the colder seasons. Greenery is a bit sparse given the Valley’s more mountainous terrain, but he insists that the thorn bushes you can find in nearly every corner of the land are beautiful in their own right. No matter the season, there’s always some amount of fog that dilutes the rays of the sun, so a day without one is often seen as a sign of good fortune by the people. Modern machinery is all but nonexistent as well, so there are no buildings, pollution, or lights to obscure the starry sky at night.

 “Now it just sounds like I’m back home,” you let out a sad reminiscent sigh.

 “What about your home? What is it like?”

 “About the same as yours, except we got plenty of sunlight and we had lush forests instead of rocky cliffs. There was a small town about half an hour out, but most of the businesses there have been around since the ’50s.” You notice his confusion as your terminology, but a brief explanation of your world’s calendar clears it up.

 “It sounds charming,” he says. “I’d love to visit it one day, should the opportunity present itself.”

 “There’s an ice cream shop down the main avenue,” you mention, knowing how much he enjoys the cold treat. “The owners even change their selections every other day, but the rainbow sherbet is the best one they have!”

 “Is that so?” he chuckles at your enthusiasm. 

 A sharp screech cuts your conversation into an abrupt close. That was without a doubt a signal from Twilight, letting you know that someone is walking up the pathway to the dorm. You aren’t expecting anyone, and Frankie is likely just arriving in town by now. You remember how Malleus seemed dejected after his call with Sebek.

 Just as you connect the dots, Malleus stands up, brushing off any dirt and debris from his clothes. “I apologize, but I must head out now.”

 “Already?” you ask with playful sadness. The fuzz in your chest dissipates into a dull ache. Weird.

 “I need to go over my guest list for my birthday once more. Lilia insisted I send out handwritten invitations to immerse myself into the festivities.”

 “That sounds about right.” After standing up yourself and insisting you’ll walk him out, you ask, “So when can I expect my invitation to come in?”

 “You want to come? Even after,” he immediately stops himself from speaking.

 Does he really think he messed up that badly with you?

 “I do want to go,” you firmly tell him. “Even after everything that’s happened.”

 There’s a brief silence between you two before he says, “You don’t have to force yourself.”

 “I’m not,” you reassure him.

 “So you say.”

 “Malleus,” you sigh. “If there’s anyone scared about our friendship dissolving because of what happened, it’s me. I’m the one that’s keeping you in suspense, even now.”

 The truth hurts, but no amount of shared laughs and the occasional antics between the two of you is going to magically dissolve the damage present. You’ve hurt him, and in a way, it’s hurting you as well. Life isn’t as linear as it was, but sulking and bringing the people around you down is a terribly selfish thing to do, especially towards someone you care a great deal about. You weren’t raised like that. You were taught to appreciate the little things and watch out for those around you. Not for personal gain, but because it was simply a kind thing to do.

 This feeling of insecurity came before the winter break. Being around so many people whose ideals and actions clash with yours often succeeds at making you think that you’re the one in wrong, that you’re the helpless and naive one. That’s far from the truth. The community you’ve built with the ghost trio and the natives on Sage’s Island is proof that your values are shared with others. 

 It’s just like Frankie said, life is just serving you a bad hand right now. You can prevail and return to the better days. The better days when you and Malleus were the best of friends. But why does your heart hurt when you think about his confession for the umpteenth time? What’s making you so hesitant? More importantly, why couldn’t you tell him “yes”, yet you also knew you couldn��t tell him “no”?

 As you watch Malleus and Sebek depart from your front door, making their way down the steps towards the front gates, you hastily announce that you’ll be back and begin running towards them.

 You need to make things right. 

Malleus noticed the way your hands sought something out to fidget with when you were feeling...he doesn’t know what that was. You weren’t feeling uncomfortable as far as he could tell. 

 Were you perhaps...flustered? 

 No, that can’t be it. You don’t think of him that way, he’s sure of now. When he quickly reassesses his behavior, he didn’t do anything that would warrant you to become nervous, other than look at you with a far too amorous gaze while you explained the ins and outs of your firearm. He couldn't help himself. Seeing you so passionate and animated, even if it's over something he has no knowledge or a particular interest in, made his heart flutter as well as ache yet again.

 They fidget with the nearest object when they feel uncomfortable. Remember that.

 “What was that, Lord Malleus?” 

 Sebek’s booming voice catches him off guard a bit, but he quickly recovers as if nothing disturbed him at all. “It’s nothing, just thinking aloud.”

 “I see. In any case,” he quickly changes the subject. “The materials needed to write and send the invitation letters are all ready. Sir Lilia insists that you write each one on your own, but I am more than capable and willing to offer my assistance should you need it!”

 “That’s quite alright. There aren’t a great many I need to send anyways,” Malleus gracefully rejects Sebek’s eager offer. 

 There really aren’t that many people who will be attending, just the residents of Diasomnia and that’s it. He initially had plans to invite you, but he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. You’ve expressed your desire to come, but he can’t help but feel that it’s only out of pity.

 He doesn’t want that from you. At this point, he just wants things to return to how they once were before he opened his mouth and began to spew a bunch of one-sided nonsense. He just wants your friendship, pure and untainted like before.

 Perhaps he’s destined to never have a friend after all.

 “Malleus!” your distant voice calls out to him, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn around to search for you.

 He doesn’t understand how you do it, but just hearing you call his name utterly burns away all the muddled thoughts circulating within his head. He is exceptional when it comes to defensive magic, yet whatever spell you manage to cast on him that makes him so taken by you, it exceeds even his own magical prowess.

 But you don’t have any magic. Not even a speck courses through your veins. You’re just an average human. His nearly crippling infatuation is entirely his own doing.

 "Oh, thank goodness you haven't made it past the front gates yet," you heaved out. Did you run all the way here? Did he forget something? He quickly pats his front pocket and feels a hard lump, his phone. It’s the only personal item he brought.

 "Human," Sebek's voice sounds annoyed at your sudden presence. "What do you need from- AH!"

 Sebek's scream hurts Malleus's ear, but the slight and momentary ring means little when you've wrapped your arms over his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace. He immediately melts into your arms, smothering his face against the crook of your neck and taking in your scent like a desperate man. Despite the sweat you and he worked up from hours of labor, you still smell so nice, like fresh cotton and assorted herbs. It's unique. It's comforting. 

 It's you.

 "One week," you whisper in his ear. "Give me one week. I'll have an answer for you then."

 He pulls back and looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. "Pardon?"

 "I've hurt you, badly." you look down in shame. "I still am, but I'm going to make it up to you. I promise"

 "A promise made with a Fae is a dangerous thing, especially when you don't uphold your end of the deal," he says with a warning tone. "One week. Are you sure that's enough time?"

 "It is," you say with certainty.

 You're not one to lie or bite off more than you can stomach. You know when you've been beaten, that's why you called for his help over the break. His interpretation of trust differs greatly from yours, and it's not given to many, Fae or not. 

 "Very well,” he yields. “I will trust you to keep to your oath.”

 “Thank you,” you squeeze him closer against you. “And I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just please, don't break my heart any further," he whispers pleadingly into your ear.

Apologies are dangerous words to say to a Fae, even a bit demeaning to some. The same with words of thanks, which you often say to him regularly. Malleus has developed a habit of accepting them out of courtesy. It's an aspect of his culture that you struggle to adjust to since it's interpreted differently in human society. You've also told him something he finds humorous, how your aunts constantly enforced you (in your words “beat it into you”) to say "please", "thank you", and “sorry”, as they didn't want others to think they were living in a crude household. It's incredibly ironic considering you tend to swear every other sentence.

 You explained that "Thank you"s are acknowledgments of the efforts one makes for another, no matter how small or grandiose the gesture is. Apologies are acknowledgments that one has wronged another and wishes to make amends.

 It sounds like common sense, but he understands now what you mean when you tell him "It's the little things that matter most". His heart was hurt when you couldn’t tell him “yes” or even a simple “no”. He's still suffering from the aftermath of his confession, even as he signs off on the last of the invitations for his birthday party, his mind failing to commit to the enthusiastically written words. You've acknowledged that you see his pain and that you recognize that you're its source. Despite having other troubles of your own, you've made it clear that he's now been pushed up your long to-do list and that he's now your main priority.

 It brings much-needed relief to his pained heart, though just a bit.

 He waits until Sebek is gone before he rummages around his desk for a beige-colored envelope, the one he enchanted and gave to you so you can speak to him over the break (he preferred this method over text messages). It still has your SOS letter in it, written with your now aged and darkened blood.

  Malleus. I'm sorry for the smell, but it's all I have on hand. I'm in Scarabia's dorm and they're not letting me leave. I've been here for a few days to help the vice dorm leader with some sort of internal affair, but I think he did something to me that's making it impossible to refuse him anymore. I tried to bail, but they caught me and now they're locking me up and keeping a close eye on me.

  If I may be a bit bold, I'm fucking scared out of my mind. I know it's rude of me to make demands without proper compensation, but I think I need some help. I don't want to cause a big fuss, so if you can could you come alone? If you can't that's fine. I'm sure I can pull through until the break ends.

  I hope you're doing well. Again, sorry for the smell.

 He makes a few more creases in the paper due to gripping it so harshly. He remembers opening it the first time and nearly ripping it in half because of how utterly livid he was. Your fresh blood also didn't help at the time. You didn't state what your current condition was when you drafted the letter and his mind immediately thought of you being injured and that was the reason you wrote it in your blood.

 The time between him sneaking past his castle's security once he received your letter to arriving on Sage's Island via his own magic (curse the dark mirror for being inactive during the winter) is a bit of a blur. All he can remember is that he was just so worried for you, a magicless human against an entire dorm of wizards in training. Even someone with subpar control over their magic can do you a great deal of damage.

 If sneaking out of his home without telling a soul, potentially causing one of the largest search hunts to commence had someone noticed and reported to his grandmother, doesn't prove how much you mean to him, he doesn't know what will.

 One week. If it takes you one more week for you to realize this, then he will wait.

 He trusts you, just as you trusted him when you sent him that letter.

 He grabs his quill and dips the tip into a jar of ink, writing something quick and straightforward on a spare piece of parchment.

  "Please come to my party. It would mean the world to me."

 After the ink dries, he folds it and places it in the envelope, sealing it with wax bearing the crest of his family. He needs not utter a single incantation to have it erupt in a blaze of green fire. He waits. One minute. Two. Suddenly, a spark of blue fire erupts on his desk before dissipating, leaving behind the same envelope he burned minus a wax seal.

 He opens it.

  "Of course I will!"

[janeofcakes]

Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 8

Hello, my friends! In keeping my word, I am posting tonight to try and stay on schedule after the two-week wait for the last chapter. You may also be pleased to know that this one is more like the usual length.

---

Sherlock has just picked up the dish of shepherd’s pie from off the oven shelf when his mobile sounds. He glances to his right pocket with a sharp look and a grumble. He can hear Olive in the loo just turning on the taps to wash up for dinner. Without ceremony, Sherlock lifts the dish quickly and all but throws it on the hot plates situated in the middle of the table. He has learned over time that shepherd’s pie should live on the table while they eat it rather than on the counter. Olive always wants seconds and sometimes thirds, so it is best to have it handy.

With the dish on the table, Sherlock turns back to the counter and tosses the oven mitts onto it while fishing for his mobile. It is a number he does not recognize so not Greg or Mycroft, thank god. That’s all he needs, another conversation with his brother. The birthday party only a few short days ago seems to have opened the floodgate and the meddling sod has phoned Sherlock every day since. An utterly pointless venture, except to annoy Sherlock as Mycroft repeats himself each time. He despises the exercise as much as Sherlock does, which is not completely lost on the detective. His brother obviously considers his words of the utmost importance. Of course, he always does, but this is different. His tone is all wrong and Sherlock cannot help wondering what Mycroft is so afraid of because it can be called nothing else. Pure, skillfully hidden fear. Anger stirs hot in Sherlock’s chest again. Does Mycroft honestly think he would do anything to endanger Olive or the life he has with her? Sherlock is happier than he has ever been and how on earth could having John Watson back in his life jeopardize that?

The mobile sounds once more, coupled with Olive’s voice shouting from the loo to see if he knows it is ringing.

“Yes. Thank you,” Sherlock calls and hastily hits accept before putting the device to his ear. The case had better not be tedious. “Sherlock Holmes.”

He hears a man clear his throat somewhat nervously on the other end and rolls his eyes. Missing spouse who is really having an affair, best friend won’t talk to him and he is worried the man has been kidnapped or… Sherlock’s grey-blue eyes pop open wide. He knows this man. It is there in the timbre of his voice. There is no mistaking it.

“Sherlock,” the voice is hesitant. “Hi.”

“John,” the detective breathes, dropping his left hand to the countertop for support. At that moment, Olive rushes into the room before he can say another word. She wooshes past him and plops down in her chair.

“Shepherd’s pie! I knew it,” she leans over the dish and takes a deep breath. “Oh, it smells so good!”

“Go ahead and start,” Sherlock tells her, covering the phone with his hand. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Ok,” Olive reaches for the serving spoon with a huge grin on her face. Sherlock’s lip curls up into a half smile as he pushes through the door into the sitting room and closes it behind. 

“Are you having dinner?” John is saying. “I’m sorry. I should’ve picked a better time to call.”

“It’s fine,” Sherlock assures him, staring across the room to the skull on the mantle and the photograph of himself with John that sits next to it. “We were just getting started. It’s no trouble.”

“You’re sure?” John sounds uncertain, but relieved at the same time. “I could phone later.”

“John, it’s fine,” Sherlock repeats with an edge of tension in his voice he hopes John does not notice. He will only misinterpret it as irritation when that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sherlock is actually more concerned that John will talk himself out of the phone call and then never call again.

Guard your heart.

Mycroft’s words slam their way into Sherlock’s mind with all the power of a lorry. Clenching his teeth, he pushes them away in favor of listening to his friend.

“All right,” John replies, unaware of the detective’s inner struggle. “I ran into Greg and he gave me your new number. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” Sherlock says easily. “I had to change it about a year ago.”

“Yeah, he mentioned that,” John sucks air in through his teeth with a cringe. “Nasty business.”

“It can be, yes,” Sherlock confirms, feeling a bit less edgy. “I should have given you the number myself since the girls are friends.”

“Right,” John agrees and Sherlock can tell he is wetting his lips, readying himself to say something momentous. Sherlock swallows, every synapsis in his brain firing as one thought fills his mind.

Please don’t say Olive and Gracie can be friends, but we should never see each other. I’ve just got you back. Don’t leave me again.

Sherlock slaps the thought down hurriedly, shoves it into an open door in his mind palace and locks it. What he feels right now is exactly what his ass of a brother was referring to when he cautioned him not to open his heart to John again. Sherlock lets out a mirthless huff. As if he ever closed his heart in the first place.

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” John begins. Sherlock can hear him shifting uncomfortably. “If you’re both free on Saturday and the offer to host a playdate still stands, I’d be happy to bring Gracie by. Or we can have it here if you want.”

Sherlock’s mouth drops open and he stares numbly at the mantle, not actually seeing any of the items resting upon it. That was certainly not what he expected John to say, but he’ll take it. Reach out and grab it with both hands, in fact.

“Sherlock?” John asks curiously and Sherlock snaps to attention, wondering how much time passed while he was in his stupor. 

“Yes,” he says too quickly, too excitedly and eases back when he continues. “Yes, of course. We would love to have you over. Olive has an endless list of things she wants to show Gracie.”

“I think I’ve heard it,” John lets out a warm laugh.”More than once.”

“Would just after lunch work?” Sherlock asks, a smile slowly taking over his face. This is truly too good to be. “One o’clock?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” John answers pleasantly. “We’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it,” Sherlock tells him, “and I know Olive will be overjoyed.”

“Oh, yeah,” John chuckles. “If you hear a far away explosion in the next few minutes, don’t worry. It’ll just be Gracie finding out.”

Sherlock laughs heartily and so easily it nearly surprises him. It feels good to laugh with John again. Astonishingly good.

“We’ll see you in a couple of days then,” John says in what can only be described as fond. “Good night, Sherlock.”

“Good night, John,” Sherlock ends the call and stays where he is, just breathing in and out. His heart is full and its warmth is running through his entire body. He is glowing with the feel of it.

Guard your heart. 

It is already too late and Sherlock cannot be bothered to care. Not in the slightest. With a skip in his step, he turns for the kitchen and strides in to tell Olive the new plans for Saturday.

***

John and Gracie had set off as soon as they finished washing up after lunch. The walk from their flat to Baker Street isn’t far at all, but the clouds and rain saw them away in a taxi. The ride was pleasant enough, Gracie telling John for the umpteenth time what she and Olive had planned. The girl didn’t stop once to take a breath and John couldn’t stop smiling. Unfortunately, things all changed as soon as he paid the cabbie and turned to face the old building that was once his home.

John stands agog as the cab pulls away. Everything is exactly the same. Speedy’s is as busy as ever, every window has the same curtains so far as John can tell, and the door is still dark and imposing over the short step up to it. An image of a younger Sherlock Holmes standing on it flashes before John’s eyes and he sees himself limp over to the detective to shake hands. John blinks and the memory is gone as quickly as it came.

Feeling a light tug on his hand, John looks down to Gracie as she fidgets and angles her head toward the door. John nods, squares his shoulders and marches up to the door. The name plates are just as he had left them. M. Hudson. S. Holmes. John stares at the names, frozen in time. A thousand memories come unbidden, but not the cases as one would expect. Moments in the flat when they were alone. Sherlock working on countless experiments, John finding body parts in the fridge, blogging, reading, eating breakfast together, that time Sherlock covered John’s hand with his own and John was sure he saw something in the detective’s eyes before he turned away. John sees every detail in his mind’s eye as each one drifts around him, stories from a past life coming back into focus.

“Dad,” Gracie’s voice whispers through the haze and John blinks himself back to the present, his face wet with raindrops. He turns his head away from the door to see his daughter watching him with a curious expression. “Aren’t you going to knock?”

“Erm, of course. Yes, I was just…” John trails off, thinking of all the times he had let himself in and trotted up the stairs after a shift at the surgery to find Sherlock playing his violin or bent over an experiment or good god, tolerating Mycroft and his patronizing smirks. John cocks his head in thought, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Sherlock really had refused his brother’s information for all these years. He could have known everything from day one, but chose to give John his privacy. No, that wasn’t the only reason. It was too painful. That’s what Sherlock had said in the park. John’s heart squeezes in his chest at the thought of causing his best friend’s pain.

“Dad,” Gracie repeats, her tone impatient and bordering on irritable. “Dad, it’s raining and I’m starting to get really wet.”

“Right. Yes,” John remarks, knocking on the door swiftly and efficiently.

They only wait a moment before the door swings open to reveal Martha Hudson in a light blue dress. Her hair has gone nearly entirely grey and a few more lines have found their way onto her face, but John would know her anywhere. Mrs. Hudson’s every feature brightens as soon as she lays eyes on John, a smile of genuine delight on her lips.

“Hello, John,” she greets warmly and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Hello, Mrs. Hudson,” John replies thickly, realizing only at that moment how much he had missed her.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” Mrs. Hudson tells him and then looks down at his daughter. “And this must be Gracie. Olive’s told me so much about you.”

“She has?” Gracie asks, her excitement oozing from every pore.

“Oh, yes, definitely,” Mrs. Hudson declares, stepping aside. “Come in, come in. She’s been waiting for you all morning. Why don’t you go right on up?”

Gracie’s awed eyes follow the woman’s gesture all the way up the seventeen steps and they all three hear a clatter from the top. There is a muffled voice shouting ‘They’re here! They’re here!’ and Olive’s thumping footsteps scamper across the floor above. She throws open the door to 221B and jumps out onto the landing. Both girls squeal and start on the stairs, meeting halfway in a rib-crushing hug.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Olive gasps. “I’ve been waiting forever!”

“I know. I know!” Gracie’s voice is on the verge of a shout barely reigned in. The two girls separate and just look at each other, their bodies trembling with pure joy. Olive grabs Gracie’s hand and jumps up a step.

“Come on! You have to see our new experiment,” she darts up the stairs and Gracie follows right on her heels.

John and Mrs. Hudson watch them run and disappear into the flat above. John looks back at the older woman with an apologetic smile.

“I’d better get up after her,” he says with a quiet laugh. He turns and puts one foot on the first stair when a strong grip around his forearm stops him. He glances at her hand and then meets the kind, brown eyes of his former landlady. Mrs. Hudson’s expression is soft and wise as she silently studies the doctor. Enough time passes that John begins to wonder exactly what she sees, as well as what she’s looking for. After another long moment passes, the corners of her mouth turn up into a sweet smile and she gives his arm a squeeze.

“I’m glad you’re here, John,” she says tenderly. She glances up the stairs and nods. “He hasn’t stopped talking about this since you phoned. Cleaned the whole flat himself.”

“Himself?” John muses with raised browns. “Now that is something.”

They share a chuckle. Mrs. Hudson squeezes his arm again.

“He has changed so much, John,” she tells him in a motherly tone.

“So I’ve heard,” John replies with a touch of dismissiveness that she picks up on immediately.

“I’ll not have that tone, young man,” Mrs. Hudson chides sternly. “Not about my boy.”

“I’m hardly a young man,” John tries to reclaim the jovial mood, but gets nowhere.

“You went through so much before you left,” the older woman interrupts as if John said nothing. “No one could blame you, but he’s not the same man who did those things, who left you behind.”

“All right. Fine,” John mutters tersely, shifting his weight impatiently and glancing up the stairs before looking at her again. “What would you have me do? Just forget it all and pretend it never happened?”

“No,” Mrs. Hudson answers, her brow furrowed. “Just give him a chance. That’s all. You think you know him, but you don’t.”

John huffs a mirthless laugh and tilts his head back a fraction to look up at the ceiling, trying to hold his temper.

“You’ve seen him with Olive,” Mrs. Hudson continues on and John lowers his gaze to meet hers, already understanding. “Is that the man you knew?”

“No,” John concedes after a long pause. Sherlock hadn’t minded children and seemed to enjoy talking to them, but by his own admission it was only because they hadn’t learned enough to be as stupid as adults. What Sherlock has with Olive is genuine love and adoration, pure and simple. Even just that tells John his friend is very different these days. 

John presses his lips together in a physical manifestation of tamping down his curiosity and all the questions rolling through his mind in a loop. Who is Jessie? Where did they meet? Are they married? John’s eyes widen, nerves on the rise and his heart in his throat. He fights not to look up the stairs as every muscle grows tense. He will surely meet Jessie today as soon as he enters his former flat. Suddenly those seventeen steps look like hundreds.

“Are you going to stay at all?” Mrs. Hudson’s gentle voice breaks the spell of his slight panic, bringing him back to where he stands at the bottom of the stairs.

“What? No,” John answers quickly, feeling flustered and trying not to show it. Judging by Mrs. Hudson’s empathetic smile, he has failed miserably. “I mean, I hadn’t planned on it. I have some errands.”

John had, in fact, thought he might stay for a bit and suggest tea if Sherlock did not. It seemed like the best way to assess the possibility of renewing their friendship. Now the idea of Jessie being there has John striking it from the schedule. He and Sherlock have so much history and not all of it is good. Surely Sherlock must have told Jessie enough that she will want to keep him as far from the detective as possible. Lestrade had said Sherlock was a shell of his former self until Jessie came into his life. Why would she let John hurt him again when she could protect him?

“Of course, dear. I understand,” Mrs. Hudson finally releases John’s arm, “but maybe just for tea? He’s honestly just as excited as Olive, though he’d never admit it.”

“Yeah,” John’s voice is light and he exhales a breath he had not realized he was holding. He can’t believe the words are passing through his lips even as he says, “Sure. It’ll be good to talk for a bit. I...have missed him.”

John surprises himself with the admission. He might have known Mrs. Hudson would get the truth out of him one way or another. The clever woman smiles, pats his arm and heads for her own flat.

“Stop by when you and Gracie are on your way out,” she disappears into the doorway and then peeks around the frame with only one hand and her head in John’s line of vision. “I have biscuits for you.”

John laughs quietly at her teasing voice and saucy grin.

“I could never refuse you anything, Mrs. Hudson. You know that,” he remarks with an answering grin.

“Oh, I know, dear,” comes Mrs. Hudson’s sly tone as she disappears again.

Left alone, John turns his attention to the stairs, his eyes following them all the way up to the landing. He exhales deeply, steeling himself for what lies beyond.

“Come on then, Watson,” he mumbles to himself, taking the first stair. “Once more into the breach.”

When John reaches the landing and walks through the open door to 221B, his normal pace slows abruptly.The flat is bright and cheerful in a way it certainly never was when he lived here. The skull is still on the mantle and Sherlock’s desk in the corner of the sitting room. There is a different telly, but it’s in the same place. All of the furniture and area rugs are new, except for Sherlock’s favorite leather chair and…

John stops. Everything stops. He doesn’t even hear Gracie and Olive’s giggles. Something in John’s chest that he had locked up tightly breaks open, spreading warmth and a comforting sort of tingle through his body. His lips part and he mutters quietly to himself in wonder.

“Oh, John,” Sherlock’s voice startles him out of his reverie and he turns to see the detective entering from the kitchen with the girls fast on his heels. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming up.”

The detective’s appearance and gait betray nothing, but his eyes sparkle like the night sky. It is dazzling. John closes his mouth and blinks. Wetting his lips, he shoots for casual.

“No, sorry. I was having a word with Mrs. Hudson,” John says, knowing he isn’t quite pulling it off.

“Or she had a word with you,” Sherlock counters with a playful smirk and something in John’s chest pops. Ten years is a long time to wait for that face. John didn’t even know he had been waiting and hoping until the exact moment he saw it. His mind is awash with memories once again, of stolen glances and brushing fingers never spoken of, but always noticed. 

“Dad! Dad, I just got the full tour!” Gracie hoots at her stunned father. “This place is great and there’s even a cool experiment in the kitchen.”

“I still need to show you my room,” Olive declares, her whole face the very pinnacle of happiness.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Gracie chants, jumping up and down. “I want to see it all!”

“Gracie,” John scolds, even as they run for the stairs to the second level, “be courteous, please.”

“Ok, Dad,” his daughter calls back in the voice she uses when she isn’t paying attention. John sighs and turns to see Sherlock’s amused smile.

“She’s fine,” the detective waves a hand dismissively and then sobers as a thought occurs. “I assure you that the flat is quite safe. The experiment we’re conducting contains no harmful materials.”

“I know,” John replies with a shrug. “You’d never allow anything that might be dangerous.”

Sherlock’s lips curve up, but he makes no other acknowledgement. John finds himself at a loss for words. He has so many questions that he should let Sherlock answer himself, but he can’t just start blurting them out with the girls up in his old room where they could burst in at any moment. Sherlock looks as though he is about to speak, but John beats him to it, suddenly compelled to break the silence.

“She’s beautiful, Sherlock, really. She looks just like you,” John almost whispers, not caring at all that he essentially just said the same about Sherlock.

“Thank you,” Sherlock murmurs, somewhat taken aback. He regroups swiftly and gestures toward the kitchen. John’s eyes follow, his mind convinced Jessie will be standing in the doorway awaiting an introduction, but he sees no one. “Do you have a moment to spare for tea?”

“Uh, I have some errands, but yeah,” John says as disappointment flashes through his mind only to be chased away just as quickly as it came. Sherlock offered him tea. John didn’t even have to hint around it as he had planned in the cab. Mrs. Hudson was right. The detective is willing to open the door again. “I’d like that.”

“Good. That’s good,” Sherlock perks up. “Have a seat and I’ll bring it out.”

“No need to be so formal,” John replies, walking in the direction of the detective and the kitchen door behind him. “Let’s just do it in the kitchen. I don’t mind.”

Sherlock’s lip curls and he steps aside, stretching his arm toward the door.

“Be my guest,” he says knowingly and follows as John walks by.

Ten minutes later and the two men are sitting at the small kitchen table, mugs of steaming tea in hand. John opted for mugs and Sherlock had even remembered that John takes it with a splash of milk. John lets a quick breath out through his nose in place of a short laugh as he considers the man in front of him. Of course he remembers. He could probably tell from the way John tied his shoes or something.

“You’ve redone the kitchen,” John begins once they are settled. His smile grows when muffled giggles drift down from the floor above. John’s eyes look fondly upward and then back to Sherlock, who nods as he takes the mug from his lips and swallows.

“Four years ago, yes,” Sherlock fills in the blanks. “Minor explosion. Olive was not home.”

He says the last four words sternly, his face deadly serious and expecting a lecture, but John just rests his chin in his own hand and watches Sherlock with a contented gaze.

“I like it,” the doctor says simply.

“Thank you,” Sherlock clears his throat, thrown off by the unexpected response and John smiles behind his hand. “I’ll be sure to tell Olive. She was instrumental in its design.”

“You two work well together,” John says, racking his brain for some way to include Jessie without sounding like he’s being nosy.

“So do you and Gracie,” Sherlock offers sincerely and suddenly John wants to change the subject. He can tell Sherlock is going to apologize again for not knowing about Rosie and John really doesn’t want to have that conversation. He shifts in his seat and raises his own mug to his lips.

“So Greg and Mycroft?” John inquires before taking a drink. “I wouldn’t have predicted that one.”

“The last ten years have brought a good many surprises,” Sherlock responds with a chuckle. “Even my brother hadn’t anticipated that.”

“How did they even meet?” John asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.”Mycroft usually avoided everyone, especially police.”

“Olive’s first birthday party,” Sherlock says rather smugly. “I knew neither would refuse.”

“Sherlock Holmes,” John declares with an incredulous grin that makes the detective smile inquisitively, “you set them up. You’re a matchmaker.”

Without hesitation, they both burst out laughing and don’t stop for a good minute. It feels so good to laugh with his best friend again. His best friend. John hasn’t thought of Sherlock that way for years and yet, somehow he never stopped. It’s true to this day. Even with the other friends he has made, no matter how close, Sherlock has always been the best and closest one. Now that John and Gracie are back in London, maybe Sherlock could be again.

“Not so much,” Sherlock comments, his laughter devolving into giggles. John is so taken aback by the way Sherlock seems to be responding to his thoughts that the smile he wears freezes on his face and his eyes begin to widen in panic as John tries to remember what they were talking about. 

“I mostly wanted them to meet because I was tired of Greg asking me about my ‘invisible brother’,” Sherlock sets John’s mind at ease as he continues speaking, “and don’t get me started on Mycroft’s thinly veiled insinuations.”

“So you just wanted them to stop bothering you,” John sums up, “and they ended up together instead?”

“They took their time about it too,” Sherlock tells him with disgust. “Three years I had to endure incessant conversation. ‘Should I ask him out, Sherlock? Is he even interested in that? What does he think of me? We had a really good time at dinner.’ And that was just Greg.”

“Mycroft,” John begins slowly, his voice flat. “Asked you. About Greg?”

“Oh god, it was detestable,” Sherlock all but moans and John has a hard time hiding a smile. The detective catches sight of it anyway and grumbles a low sound from deep in his chest. “I don’t do feelings.”

“Don’t you?” John counters instantly, not believing the man’s snarl for a minute. Sherlock meets John’s steady gaze and his expression softens as unspoken understanding passes between them. Sherlock presses his lips together and suddenly looks younger, a touch vulnerable. John sees the man who looked at him the same way all those years ago on their first case when John said he didn’t have to use his imagination to know what he would say when about to die.

“I have limits,” Sherlock snarks, pulling John from the past. The detective schools his face to match the topic again and reaches for a biscuit. “My brother’s emotional awakening extends far beyond them, I assure you.”

“I believe it,” John smirks as he takes a drink.

“I fail to see the humor in this, John,” Sherlock glowers, but there is no heat in it and his lips turn up the longer he looks at John. Unable to stop himself from imagining Sherlock rolling his eyes and covering his ears as Mycroft waxes poetic about Greg, John descends into giggles. Sherlock gives him a withering look, but the corners of his mouth begin turning up of their own accord again and his own giggles soon join John’s. A minute later both men are laughing outright. John wipes at his eyes as the snorts begin to fade.

“I didn’t even realize Greg was gay,” he says absently.

Sherlock’s chuckles stop abruptly and John looks at him apprehensively, knowing his mistake immediately and kicking himself.

“He isn’t,” the detective tells him sharply. “He’s bisexual.”

“Right,” John swallows thickly, cursing himself for being such an idiot.

A moment of awkward silence passes while Sherlock sips from his mug and John looks down at his own, contemplating what to say. Coming up with nothing, he reaches for the biscuits with a silent inquiry on his face and Sherlock waves a hand in answer. John plucks one up and pops it in his mouth.

“Mm,” John hums with enthusiasm. “Mrs. Hudson is still an expert.”

“Actually, Olive and I made them,” Sherlock corrects and then says without thinking: “It’s Jessie’s recipe.”

He stops abruptly, mouth still open and fixes a penetrating but uneasy gaze on John. The doctor stares back. This is exactly the topic he is most curious about and the focus of nearly all his questions, but he suddenly doesn’t want to talk about it. He looks into those grey-blue eyes, deep and full of emotion, and he can’t. He can’t ask, can’t know. Not right now.

“John…” Sherlock starts in. John knows what he is going to say and he can’t bear it.

“Oh, god,” John interrupts, looking at his watch. “It’s been an hour. I really have to do those errands.”

He all but leaps out of his seat and bolts for the kitchen door, pausing only a moment to look back at his speechless friend. Sherlock has risen as well, but stands in place.

“Do you need any help?” John gestures to the table. “I can wash up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sherlock’s voice is uncertain as though he has done something wrong and John’s chest squeezes painfully.

“All right. Ok,” John’s own voice is full of tension. He doesn’t even sound like himself. He fists his hands at his sides for lack of anything else to do with them. “I’ll be back at...four? Four thirty?”

“Four thirty is fine,” Sherlock replies, sounding more resigned now. “I’ll make sure they have a healthy snack in a bit.”

Feeling like a complete idiot, John mutters his thanks and rushes from the flat without another word.

***

When John returns, it is nearly five o’clock. Tesco had been a madhouse and at least one person in every aisle was intolerable. He had texted Sherlock around four fifteen to say he would be a little late and received a response of ‘no problem’ almost immediately. Marching up the stairs to the flat, he still feels a bit guilty. Mrs. Hudson let him in the building and then rushed back to her flat to check on a cake in the oven. Small mercies, not making the walk of shame back up to 221B under her watchful eyes.

John turns to the door to Sherlock’s flat when he reaches the landing and knocks with the hand carrying only one light-weight bag. He will give it to Gracie for the trip home so he has only the two heavier ones to contend with. He hears footsteps nearing the door soon enough and Sherlock looks at him a bit oddly after opening it. His grey-blue eyes clearly ask why John didn’t just walk in, but then shift in recognition as if reminding himself that John is a guest rather than a resident.

The detective steps aside and directs John to place his bags on a bench near the door. John smiles to himself when he sees the line of eight year old shoes next to three pairs of Sherlock’s posh shoes. He still wears it when he turns around to follow Sherlock into the sitting room. John stops next to the couch while Sherlock goes to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Olive, Gracie,” Sherlock calls. “John is here.”

“Ok,” his daughter replies.

Sherlock turns back to John and begins approaching the couch.

“They’ll just be a minute. I asked them to clean up a bit once you got here,” Sherlock explains and then gestures to the furniture. “Please, have a seat.”

“Ta,” John says automatically and sits on the couch, leaving room for Sherlock. John’s stomach flips when the detective sits next to him. His palms are sweaty and his pulse steps up its pace, but John tries not to show it. He’s being ridiculous.

“I hope she behaved herself,” John comments with a quiet laugh, resisting the temptation to wipe his hands on his jeans. 

“She was wonderful,” Sherlock answers with an expression that says John had nothing to worry. “They kept themselves busy all afternoon. I only saw them at snack time and then they were right back at it. They get along so well.”

“Good. That’s good,” John says a little stiffly. What is wrong with him? He is tense and apprehensive and has no reason to be. Just because he ran from his friend as fast as he could when he left a few hours earlier doesn’t mean he should be uncomfortable now. Sherlock probably thought nothing of it. John sighs internally, wanting to roll his eyes. That is the single stupidest thought to pass through his mind all day.

“John,” Sherlock’s silky voice draws John’s attention, as always.

“Hm?” he hums, looking at his friend and trying not to give away every thought in his head with just one glance. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” Sherlock tells him softly. John’s brows arch toward his hairline and his lips part in mild surprise. He is not entirely sure what Sherlock is referring to, but it can’t be what John thinks he means, what John increasingly wants it to mean.

“The girls have grown quite close in only a short time,” the detective continues. “They’re already planning a sleepover.”

“Oh,” John releases the breath he had been holding. He had not anticipated that, but should have. He nods in understanding, feeling both relieved and disappointed in equal measure. “I should’ve known they’d make that leap right out the gate.”

“Indeed,” Sherlock wets his lips, drawing John’s eyes and damn it if he can’t drag the traitorous little bastards away from that cupid’s bow. John is sure Sherlock notices, but he spares John the embarrassment of saying anything. “John, are you free for dinner next Saturday evening?”

“What?” John stumbles over the word like an idiot. He can’t have heard that right. Dinner? With Sherlock? With him? Then it dawns on him. Sherlock wants to introduce him to Jessie over dinner where there won’t be interruptions significant enough to pull them away. “Yeah. I don’t have plans. It’ll be easy enough to have Candace watch Gracie for the night.”

“Good,” Sherlock’s lips quirk up. “I’m glad. I...I have a lot to tell you.”

Before John can reply or even put much thought into the implications of that sentence, Gracie and Olive clatter down the stairs and bound into the room. The young blonde is at John’s side in seconds, hugging him and bubbling over about all she has to tell him.

Surrounded by constant chatter, John and Sherlock rise and all four walk to the door where Gracie pulls on her coat and shoes. Both she and John thank Sherlock and Olive for everything and then make their way down to Mrs. Hudson. She meets them in the foyer with a tin of biscuits, which they put in Gracie’s grocery bag. Thanking her as they head out the door, Mrs. Hudson waves goodbye with promises to see them again as though there was never any doubt of their return.

Once the door to the building is closed and John and Gracie are on the pavement, a cab appears seemingly from nowhere. John eyes the driver suspiciously for a moment, wondering if he is really one of Mycroft’s lackeys before dismissing the notion. He opens the door with the hand holding the lighter of his two bags and piles in with his daughter. John gives their address to the man and sits back in his seat just in time to hear his mobile ping with a text.

7 o’clock?

John can’t help the smile that blooms on his face as he types an affirmative response. 

“What does that mean?” Gracie asks, reading over his shoulder. John looks down at her curious face as he pockets the mobile.

“Olive’s dad and I are going to meet for dinner next Saturday,” John tells her. “So that means Candace will stay over and put you to bed.”

“Yay!” Gracie exclaims. “She promised to play Cluedo the next time she stays over.”

“Well, I hope the two of you discover it was the doctor in the lounge with the lead pipe before it’s too late,” John jokes, wrapping his arm around his little girl and pulling her close.

“Dad,” Gracie laughs with an eye roll and hugs him.

The cab ride home is not long at all and the Watsons joke with one another all the way to their doorstep.

---

A new chapter coming with promises of dinner, Jane, and you make us wait? Gah! I may not be torturing you with the angst of my other works, but I hope to still have to on the edge of your seats. Thank you, thank you one and all for your support and love. Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun / Taemin; bridging parallels ; nc17

jonghyun and taemin live in the apartments across from each other and jonghyun has been watching taemin climb out of his window and sneak out of the house several times a week for years ever since they were both in high school

for summer of shinee 2021 : )

Him and Taemin text still. Not often, and when they do, it's never really a full conversation. Mostly just memes shared at 2 in the morning, small talk, happy birthdays. Look at that dog texted fervently at 7 p.m. On a Thursday dragging one of them at light speed to their window to obey. Taemin makes his way into one of Jonghyun's articles again, this time a little spotlight of his work as a choreographer for an entire show.

Jonghyun has known Taemin since they were kids. Apartment neighbors, kind of. Jonghyun is 408, Taemin is 718. The way the apartments are set up, Jonghyun can sit at his bedroom window, look outside, and see Taemin's bedroom window across the way and one floor down. They go to elementary school together, then middle school, and then high school. They have one or two classes together over the years. None of that really matters because they never really talk.

What was the homework texted here, our mutual friend both invited us to the same party there, look at that dog shouted into the space between their windows at 7 p.m. On a Thursday one time in 8th grade. Whatever.

Even when Taemin starts sneaking out at night, the summer after sophomore year, 15 years old, it doesn't magically make them have a speaking relationship. All it does is distract Jonghyun as he's sitting at his window sill, scented candle lit, summer reading program report under his hands. Distracts him and makes him drop his pencil four floors into the bushes that line the building.

He doesn't watch it long enough to see it hit the ground. He's far too interested in watching whatever the fuck Taemin thinks he's doing. He's clambering out of his window, his third-story window, nothing but a concrete drop below him, and then he's actually climbing up, up the wall, up the building, up three floors until he's hauling himself up onto the roof.

When Taemin makes it up there, he rolls out of view over the ledge, but then his head pops back over. He looks all the way down, and even from far away, Jonghyun can see the huge smile spread over his face. His hands slap excitedly on the ledge before he stands up, turns, and disappears again as he jogs away, the high kick of his ankle behind him as he stumbles a step the last thing that Jonghyun sees of him.

Until he sees him sneaking out again the next night.

It doesn't become a nightly thing, but it is still regular enough that, every night when he's at his window sill with a candle and some writing, he’ll glance up at any movement he sees across the way just in case. It doesn't stop when school starts back up again, either. Sometimes Jonghyun will watch Taemin clamber out of his window, up the building, and disappear on the roof one night and then watch him sleeping on the bus the next morning, wondering how many hours he actually got. Sometimes he'll be up late enough to watch Taemin sneak back in, a descent three floors down from the roof that stops Jonghyun's heart every time.

School goes on. Jonghyun takes storytelling electives; music, ceramics, creative writing, art. He reads comic books, watches anime, looks up walkthroughs of video games that he can't play himself. He gets detention one time for being late and a kid sitting next to him offers him some weed, which he tries but doesn't really like, but that kid helps him through some spontaneous crying a few weeks later so they become pretty close and he winds up being the designated driver to a bunch of stoners. His dad moves out, his sister moves out, his sister moves back in. He picks up a part-time job at a music store during his senior year to help with the bills.

He sees Taemin around every now and again. They have ceramics together, for one. Taemin sits at another table with his own group of friends, but he smiles and says hey to Jonghyun when they wind up in the glazing room together. He comes into Jonghyun's job sometimes, looking over new album releases and buying everything a particular band puts out.

Jonghyun sees Taemin dancing during school pep rallies, assemblies, during rehearsals and the big night for a talent show they're both in where Jonghyun almost cries on stage because he's so nervous to be playing one of his own self written songs in front of people. He cries backstage instead and they still don't talk, but Taemin offers him a quick hug as they pass, hand rubbing over his back, and then he's gone before Jonghyun even really realized he was there in the first place. Later that night, Taemin sneaks out and then back in again within an hour.

And that night is also the first night that Taemin notices Jonghyun watching him. It’s just as he’s putting his hands on his windowsill to hoist himself up that he hesitates and, for a reason that Jonghyun can't come up with, looks directly across the way at Jonghyun.

He jumps when he sees Jonghyun, like he's startled; Jonghyun waves, a little confused, a little amused. Taemin looks down, covering what has to be an embarrassed smile with his hand.then Taemin looks up, waves back, and clambers out of his window and up the wall like usual. After he reaches the top, he peeks his head over the edge for the first time since that first night. Jonghyun leans just a little bit out of his window to smile and wave again. Even with all of the distance between them, Jonghyun can see the flash of his smile as Taemin taps two fingers to his temple and flicks them off in a salute.

From that night on, everytime that Taemin sneaks out, they wave at each other.

They graduate; Jonghyun with okay grades and Taemin with probably the same. Jonghyun doesn't go to college or anything. He upgrades his job at the music store to full time and does some freelance work online writing articles about art events and festivals in the area while he tries to work on his own stories in his free time. Taemin doesn't leave town either, because he still climbs out of his window and disappears over the roof on a regular basis. It's not until Taemin comes into the music store one time to buy a new CD and Jonghyun recognizes the logo on his hoodie as belonging to the local dance theater that he figures out what Taemin has been up to lately.

And it's not until they happen to both wind up in the little corner store down the street from their apartment complex at the same time that they have their first real conversation.

Jonghyun is there because he wanted snacks and his sister wanted snacks and he lost the rock paper scissors to decide who would go out and get some. Taemin is apparently there to buy some booze because he's standing in front of all of the refrigerators and contemplating the selection when Jonghyun opens one next to him to grab a couple bottles of soda.

"Oh, sorry," Taemin says, glancing at him and stepping a little bit away, and then, brighter, "oh, hey Jonghyun."

"Hey," Jonghyun says back, pleasantly surprised to recognize him. "Party?" he asks, nodding at all of the liquor. Taemin shakes his head, tells Jonghyun that he's just looking for something fun and fruity to enjoy by himself in his room sometimes. For self-care, he says. Jonghyun tells him he gets that and taps the glass in front of one of his favorite fruity boozy drinks in recommendation. Taemin shrugs and takes his word, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the bottle without even really looking at the label or anything on it. Then, after a moment's hesitation, asks, "how old are you again?"

"20," Jonghyun tells him, smiling a little sheepishly. "Maybe I ask my sister to buy me alcohol. Don't tell anyone."

And Taemin's response to that is a snort, a broad grin, and a hand slipping into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this," he says as he pulls out his ID card from its clear plastic flap, slots it in with all his other cards, pulls out a different ID card, and puts that in the flap.

The blunt casualness of that whole exchange surprises a laugh out of Jonghyun, one that sounds loud in the quiet little store. He doesn't try to stifle it; has never really tried to stifle his laughter. Still chuckling, he offers up his pinky to Taemin to promise. Taemin looks at him, looks at his pinky, covers his mouth and nose with the back of his hand for a moment, then links their pinkies together.

Taemin buys his alcohol and leaves the store before Jonghyun finishes picking up all of his snacks, but he sees Taemin ahead on the sidewalk on the way back and jogs to catch up with him.

"Don't go climbing out of your window after you drink any of that," he says, worried halfway through the sentence that maybe he's overstepping but finishing anyway. Taemin does that thing again, where he looks down and rubs his nose, and is the first one to offer up his pinky this time.

Taemin picks up a fashion for denim-on-denim, leather, spikes. Dark clothes, baggy hoodies, lots of rings. Beanies, worn-out shoes. Jonghyun attaches himself to big comfy sweaters, turtlenecks, bracelets cinching over the sleeves. Ripped jeans, snapbacks, boots. Taemin lets his hair grow out until it fans out around his face, soft and wavy, then cuts it short into a choppy bowl cut and a crisp undercut. Jonghyun tries out an undercut too, finds he likes it, experiments with dying his hair every couple of months. Taemin has some new piercings–shark bites, cheek studs, spikes through his ears. Jonghyun has some new tattoos–words on his arms, permanent bracelets around his wrists, planets on his side, a starscape on his back.

Jonghyun starts teaching guitar lessons at the music store to kids on the weekends. His mom gets promoted at her job. They stop struggling as much, settle into something almost resembling financial security. He keeps freelancing and in one of his articles he writes about a culture show the dance theater is putting on. In the picture that runs with the article, Taemin is standing on the end, smiling with his arm around a fellow dancer, doing a victory sign for the camera.

There's a queer club down the street from the music store that Jonghyun goes to sometimes. He makes new friends, has a couple of casual hookups, has a cute girlfriend for a while but things don't really work out. It's fine between them after. Taemin almost has a cute date friend one time, but that doesn't work out either. Jonghyun knows this because he watches the whole thing happen from his window sill.

He's there, writing notebook under his hands, scented candle next to his elbow, just like every night, and Taemin is suddenly there on the roof. Except, for once, he's not alone. Someone else is with him. A little taller, thick dark hair spilling out of a pulled up hoodie, and that's about all Jonghyun can see of them. The pair of them sit down on the ledge, feet dangling over nothing, close enough that their shoulders almost brush every so often.

Jonghyun doesn't mean to snoop, or eavesdrop, or anything. Taemin's love life is his own business. It's interesting, yeah, to watch them stargazing and talking together, but Jonghyun really is only glancing up at them every couple of minutes to distract his brain a little bit so he can focus on his writing without getting distracted a lot by something else. And it just so happens, that during one of those glances, Taemin tries to make his move.

It's not much of a move; a purposeful bump of their shoulders, a rub of his nose with the back of his hand, something said to make them look at him directly. More quiet words, a leaning in–not all the way, but enough to be clear–a tilt of his head like he's asking a question, and then.

And then. The other person leaning back, shaking their head, covering their mouth with both hands. Quickly they reach for Taemin's hand, holding it tight as they speak earnestly, as Taemin nods up and down and tugs his hair at the back of his head where they can't see.

They sit together for a little while longer after that, but a barely perceptible distance apart now, enough space that they don't accidentally bump shoulders anymore. Then the other person stands up, starts to walk away. Taemin turns and takes their hand, carefully, asks them something that they nod in agreement to. Taemin drops their hand, flops his own hands into his lap. The other person walks away, and then a minute later, Taemin falls back, sprawls himself out over the roof until all Jonghyun can see are his legs still dangling. They kick in the air for a few seconds before flopping limply back down in defeat.

Jonghyun looks back to his writing with a shake of his head. Poor baby.

He doesn't see Taemin sneak out for a couple of weeks after that. Then, another night, another candle, another page of writing, he glances up and finds Taemin sitting at his window, arms crossed on the windowsill, face nestled in his elbow, cheek smushed up as he pouts out at nothing. Jonghyun can't help it; he smiles at the image.

"Hey sorry about your heartbreak dude" is what he texts to Taemin once he finds his number buried in all of his contacts, an entry probably put in during high school for some project that neither of them remember. And then he just watches, waits, until Taemin leans away from his window. A moment later, Taemin returns, and this time he's holding his phone and looking up at Jonghyun. Jonghyun waves with an apologetic little shrug.

"Damn you saw that??? " Taemin texts back. Jonghyun replies that he did indeed see it and offers more condolences. Taemin's sigh is audible to Jonghyun even from so far away, but he replies anyway. They talk about nothing, really; Taemin asks what Jonghyun is always writing about and Jonghyun tells him. His book that he's been working on for a while. The one where he wanted to write a love story but wound up accidentally writing a breakup scene in the first chapter and then just went with it. Taemin seems to take some comfort in hearing about a failed romance.

The night after that, Taemin climbs out of his window again.

Him and Taemin text still. Not often, and when they do, it's never really a full conversation. Mostly just memes shared at 2 in the morning, small talk, happy birthdays. Look at that dog texted fervently at 7 p.m. On a Thursday dragging one of them at light speed to their window to obey. Taemin makes his way into one of Jonghyun's articles again, this time a little spotlight of his work as a choreographer for an entire show.

Jonghyun's manager gets fired for tax evasion or some bullshit and suddenly he finds himself as the manager instead. Not because he's super qualified for the job, but because he's worked there for the longest, almost 11 years, and the rest of the employees are mostly part-time high school kids. All of a sudden he has all of these duties and responsibilities that he doesn't know what to do with, on top of dealing with the mess that his old boss left him with. The first thing he does is give himself and all of the employees a raise, which at first gets him a serious reprimand from upper management of the store chain, but he doesn't give a shit and the next month he gets praised for reducing customer service complaints and boosting product sales.

One night Taemin comes into the music store to buy a new album from his favorite band a couple weeks later than Jonghyun was expecting him to. Usually he shows up on day one; when Jonghyun mentions that to him, he rubs his nose with the back of his hand and shrugs, mumbling something about a giveaway online and shipping problems. Jonghyun chuckles at that, mentions that the cardboard stand that they have in the store to promote the album is free for him to take, if he wants it. He's the manager. He can do that now.

Taemin's eyes widen behind his bangs, his teeth flash in a huge smile. He thanks Jonghyun emphatically, grabs the stand, and walks out with it, holding it in front of him as he goes and biting his lip.

Jonghyun finds himself thinking about that later in bed. Taemin’s teeth biting into his bottom lip. Digging into soft, plush pink. He looked different today. Something about his face, his nose. A nose job, Jonghyun guesses, something to change the tip of his nose from a cute soft hook to a cute round end. He dropped his shark bite piercings at some point and replaced them with studs. two silver squares on each side of his bottom lip, matching the ones that dimple his cheeks, the sets that outline the tips of his eyebrows. Matching the ones lined up below his collar bones. Jonghyun could see those in the dip of his v-neck.

The piercings won't leave his mind as he tries to fall asleep. Heavy silver, bold, striking, a statement of toughness outlining his delicate features. Jonghyun wonders how they feel, if he ran his fingers over them would they be cold or would they have absorbed Taemin’s body heat. He makes the mistake of wondering if Taemin has matching studs on his hips and realizes with a start that he's running his fingers over his own lips, imagining how it would feel if he were to drag his mouth over them.

Face hot, lips tingling, Jonghyun rolls over in bed and tries to think of anything else.

It works. For a little bit. Until the next day when he waves at Taemin as he heads out for the night. Then he's thinking about them again. Then he's thinking about what kind of noises Taemin would make if Jonghyun kissed his piercings. About how much deeper, huskier Taemin's voice sounded in the store. It had to have been that deep the last time they talked, the last time Taemin came in to buy an album, but–if it was, Jonghyun doesn't remember noticing or caring as much as he does now.

This new realization has him trying with all his heart to think about himself, what it means that he's gone his whole life without knowing that he had a thing for piercings, what it means if it's not the piercings and it's just Taemin, what it means if he suddenly starts lusting over the boy next door.

This lasts for about two more days until he gets tired of it and decides to just do something about it.

So the next time he catches Taemin about to climb out of his window a little bit after midnight, he waves frantically to get his attention. Taemin stops, looks at him, smiles, waves back. Jonghyun beckons towards him, trying to communicate that he wants him to come over without shouting. Taemin points at himself then over up at Jonghyun, tilting his head; Jonghyun nods eagerly, beckoning again. Without a moment of hesitation this time, Taemin nods and holds up one finger.

He climbs up his building, and then instead of disappearing away from Jonghyun, he walks along the edge. Jonghyun leans a little bit out of his window to watch him all the way down to where the parallel lines of their apartment buildings turn into a U for him to cross, until he gets too close to Jonghyun's side to see anymore. Then, a minute later, there's a crunch of shoe against brick outside his window. He moves his tealight candle out of the way and Taemin slips into his room feet first.

"Hey," he says. "What's up? Can I smell?"

A finger with chipped black nail polish touches next to Jonghyun's tiny candle. He has studs on the backs of his wrists too. Jonghyun lets him smell with a warning to be careful not to spill it, and then tries to figure out a way to say what he wants to say tactfully. He didn't think this part through. It's not really his style to come up with detailed plans, just to try things out and see if they work. Finally, after a bunch of starts and stops, half asked questions, an exasperated sigh, he just says, "do you want to make out?"

And in the silence after the question, in the dim light of his desk lamp, Taemin's tongue wets his lips.

"Sure," he says.

Nice.

Sure turns into Taemin in Jonghyun's lap, turns into Jonghyun gliding his thumb over the studs under Taemin's lip, turns into Taemin cupping his face and pressing their mouths together. Kissing turns into Jonghyun's hands sliding up under his shirt, turns into Taemin groaning the hottest noise Jonghyun has ever heard into his mouth, turns into him standing with his sweater half way over his head frantically whispering to Taemin that his bed is too squeaky and his family is trying to sleep.

He takes Taemin to the floor, sits on his hips and grinds down while Taemin fumbles with his own belt buckle, hands bumping Jonghyun's cock through his pajama pants. Jonghyun hadn't meant for this to happen, wasn't planning on fucking Taemin, but he doesn't want to stop.Taemin doesn't either, says god no when Jonghyun asks and that's enough of a reason to Jonghyun to keep going. He's pushing Taemin's shirt up while Taemin is trying to reach up onto his bed for a pillow, and it's rushed and it's messy, but Jonghyun discovers that Taemin not only has studs along the V of his but also one over his belly button, bars through his nipples, and, best of all, when he pulls Taemin's pants down, four of us small silver balls like an X around the head of his cock.

Lube from his desk, three fingers deep into his own ass, thumb tracing over every piercing on Taemin's hips, so hard it hurts, almost delirious with want, Jonghyun barely hears Taemin when he says, "I've always thought you were cute."

The piercings in his collar bones glint in the light, his skin glistens with summer sweat, the sharp angle of his jawline, the shadow of his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, the raw edge on his voice as he says, "I've always liked you, ever since we were kids, I've always–I don't know when it turned into a crush, but I–god that feels so good. Oh my fucking god." Halfway down Taemin's cock, Taemin grabs Jonghyun's hips and pulls him down all the way, knocks the breath from his lungs. "Jonghyun," he says, "more."

Jonghyun gives him more until he can't anymore, until his thighs are burning and his arms are trembling. Taemin removes the effort for him by turning them around until he's on his back. Taemin fucks him like that, tries to kiss him more but quickly gives up and buries his face in Jonghyun's neck instead. With "you're perfect, you're perfect, you're so fucking perfect, " breathed under his ear, Jonghyun hooks his leg around Taemin's back, pulls him in harder, faster, whispers his own pleads back, begs Taemin to bite him, bite his neck.

Taemin bites him, hard, and that's how he comes, body frozen underneath him until he goes all the way limp, only barely registering in some faraway part of his brain Taemin's choked breaths and the warmth pooling inside of him. He's weak, hazy, loopy, giggling, and Taemin's gentle hands are on him again, picking him up, putting him on his knees, and Jonghyun is glad to obey, glad to do whatever the fuck when he's this blissed-out.

Quiet curses as hands smooth over his back, the softest "oh, wow," whispered as fingers trace his constellations, and then the deepest groan as Taemin's tongue touches his skin. Jonghyun's eyes fly open, his voice rises three octaves, he slaps both hands over his mouth to stifle the noises he's making, noises he’s never made before in his life. The moment that he realizes that Taemin has a tongue stud is the moment that everything goes white, and then the next moment, everything goes dark.

The next morning he wakes up alone, in his bed, pajama pants back on, candle burned all the way down to nothing, window closed. He's not angry, or hurt, but he is a little grumpy all day long until he walks up to the entrance of the apartment complex after work and Taemin is sitting on one of the big potted plants outside the door.

He stands up when Jonghyun gets close to him, presses a large jar candle of the scent from last night into his hands, and, blinking a mile a minute, blurts out, "hey, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for last night when I told you I was in love with you and then fucked you and then panicked and left," to which Jonghyun, baffled, wracking his memory, replies, "did you tell me you're in love with me?"

Which kicks Taemin's blinking into overdrive, starts up a long, stammering babble that Jonghyun can confidently say he understands about 20% of. After a minute he realizes that Taemin isn't going to stop, so he interrupts him by asking, "Taemin, do you want to go on a date?"

A few days later, they share a mountain of fries on an outside table at some burger joint. Taemin, embarrassed, reading notes from his phone, admits that he's had a crush on Jonghyun for what feels like forever but was always too shy and infatuated to make a move. Jonghyun, embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, admits that he just got suddenly horny for the piercings one day and was a little too impulsive in making his move. Both of them, laughing, agree that it would probably be nice to work towards a middle ground together.

And it is.

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Birthday Girl-ImAllexx

“Can u do an Alex imagine where it’s reader’s birthday so Alex throws a party in the flat and in the midst of it all her and Alex sneak off to his room where he gives her his present and it’s all cute until things escalate and he eats her out as a birthday treat”

Pairing: ImAllexx x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: Reposted for a friend, not continuing smut :)

WARNING: SMUT

_________

“Alex, I swear if you threw a party too-” “Oh, c'mon Y/n. You know I would never.” Alex and Y/n had been walking back to their flat, they had already made it to their floor level. Y/n’s boyfriend had taken her out for dinner, it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was her favorite restaurant. Luckily the restaurant wasn’t too fancy, Alex had worn his usual outfit of a hoodie, a snapback, and a few rings to dinner. “Alex, you’ve already done so much for me today, a surprise party would be too much.” This morning Alex had shown up at Y/n’s door with a boutique of roses, they had gone out shopping for Y/n. Anything she picked out, he had bought for her without hesitation. A few fans had bumped into them as well, of course they took a moment to take photos together. As soon as they had gotten to their front door, Y/n opened the door, only to have the lights flick on automatically along with people yelling ‘surprise!’ Out of nowhere, Alex and Y/n’s square-headed friend had run up to them, unleashing a confetti popper at them. Y/n couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “But seriously though, happy birthday, Y/n,” Will grinned, taking a step back from his friends. “Thanks, Will,” Y/n to a moment to give Will a brief hug before pulling away. Finally, she looked around and noticed the familiar faces that had agreed with Alex to throw a party. It honestly seemed like everyone was there. George, James, Gee, Mia, Angelika, Aria, Fraser, Lewis, Ciaran, Becky, Callum, Ethan, Stephen, Chris,. “I few people are late,” Alex whispered, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend from behind her. “I’m sorry.” “Are you joking?” Y/n glanced at her boyfriend, “This is amazing Alex.” “You like it?” “Absolutely,” turning to face her boyfriend, she continued to speak. “Bubba, this is amazing. I love it, thank you.” “Anything for you, Y/n.” The party was going great, music had been turned on and people were chatting. Alcohol had been set up in the kitchen, Alex had left Y/n be to go make her a drink. The h/c girl hadn’t got a chance to find out her friends had brought presents for her, the gifts had been placed in Alex’s bedroom. A while later, Y/n was in the middle of a conversation with Chris, Chloe, George, and Angelika. Alex had brought Y/n her drink and was getting his own. The group had been talking about when they were in high school and their different experiences.  Just Y/n had gone to speak again, a hand wrapped around hers. Glancing over, Y/n found herself looking over at her boyfriend. “Do you mind if I steal my girlfriend away from you guys?” “Go ahead,” George grinned as he wrapped an arm around Angelika. With that, Alex began to pull Y/n away from the crowd, heading down the hallway. Reaching Alex’s bedroom, the brunette had closed the door behind them, locking it to make sure no one could interrupt their moment. Walking over to the edge of the bed, Y/n took a seat. “Are those for me?” her gaze had been stolen by a pile of gifts sitting in the corner of the room. “Yeah, we were gonna wait for later tonight to show you your gifts, but I forgot they were in here,” her boyfriend replied as he walked over the nightstand that stood to the right of the bed. Pulling the bottom drawer open, he began to rummage around for something important. “What are you looking for?” Finally, his eyes had set on it. A small black box that had been placed at the bottom of his drawer. He had gotten it a while ago and didn’t want there to be any chance of Y/n stumbling across it one day. “This,” Alex smiled, pulling out the box as he moved to shit by Y/n. “I know I bought all that stuff for you today, but this came in a few weeks ago.” He opened the box, revealing a beautiful aquamarine stone that sat on top of a silver band ring. Six accent stones sat on the ring, complimenting the aquamarine stone. Y/n let out a gasp at the sight of it. “Alex… I can’t accept this, you’ve already given me so much.” “Y/n, please take it. There’s no reason I’m gonna wear this.” It took a moment before Y/n gave a nod, continuing to stare at the ring. Taking the silver band out of the box, Alex slipping it onto his girlfriend’s ring finger, watching her reaction to it. The ring had fit like a glove, it was absolutely perfect. “Oh my god, I love it,” Y/n cooed, keeping her eyes on the ring, afraid that if she just glanced away from it for a second, it’d magically disappear. “And I love you.” “I love you, Alex.” Gently, Alex placed two of his fingers under Y/n’s chin, lifting her face to make eye contact with him. As soon as their eyes had met, Alex’s lips collided with hers. The kiss had created a passionate moment between them, which only lead to Alex hovering over Y/n, his snapback being tossed off by his girlfriend. Y/n’s fingers dragged through Alex’s hair, making it become a bit messy. Once the kiss had ended, Alex had moved down to her neck, beginning to kiss, nip, or bite anywhere that could get a reaction on of Y/n.  Finally, Y/n let a breathy moan out as Alex bit gently on the right of her neck. “You gotta be quiet, Y/n,” Alex hushed her. “We don’t want anyone finding out what we’re doing.” Y/n only gave a small hum as a response. She was used to being quite vocal in the bedroom, so if this was going to go any farther, she’d have a challenge to face. While Alex had worked on making his mark on her neck, his free hand had moved down her waist slowly. As soon as Alex’s hand had touched the edge of Y/n’s pants, his hand had somehow found its way underneath the fabric. Biting her lip, Y/n had fought back a moan as her grip on Alex’s hair had tightened. The brunette let a chuckle out from her tensed state. His hand had traveled even deeper, his fingers pressing against her entrance. “Please, Alex… don’t tease.” Hearing those words leave Y/n’s lips had ignited something inside of Alex. He wanted to get her to whine and fight back moans. Alex slid two fingers in, beginning to move his hand back and forth. Of course his fingering had been at its best with Y/n’s pants in the way. At this point Y/n was gripping onto the sheets, fearing if she made one noise their friends would hear them. Pulling his hand out of Y/n, Alex had begun to work on unbuttoning his girlfriend’s pants, only for her to take over as Alex moved to take her shoes off. Once Y/n was able to wiggle off her pants she laid back down, excited for what was to come next. Two of Alex’s fingers had slid back into Y/n, beginning to move fast. A small low moan had escaped the h/c girl’s lips as she leaned her head back. “Fuck, Y/n… you’re so wet.” Just hearing those words leave Alex’s lips, had only made Y/n feel butterflies appear in her stomach. Alex had added a third finger, beginning to curl his fingers when he’d thrust his fingers in. “Oh my god,” Y/n panted, at this point she could barely talk. It seemed like every time her and Alex would have an intimate moment in bed, she’d forget how well he was with his hands. Slowly, she could feel herself coming closer and closer to her edge. Just as Y/n had felt herself clench around her boyfriend’s fingers, Alex had pulled his fingers away from Y/n’s entrance. Immediately from the lost of contact, Y/n let out a whine. “Don’t worry, Y/n,” her boyfriend let out a chuckle as he positioned himself between her legs. “You’ll get to come.” Alex had buried his head in between her legs. His tongue moving from side to side, in and out. Y/n let out small moans as her hands could be found gripping onto Alex’s hair once again. “You taste amazing,” Alex muttered against her pussy, causing vibrations of his voice against her clit. If Y/n wasn’t in heaven already, she certainly was now. Giving a tug at Alex’s hair, Y/n bit her lip as she fought back a moan. Just from feeling Y/n tug at his hair, Alex let out a soft groan. Once again, the familiar feeling of herself getting closer and closer had been created. Right as she had come to the edge, Alex had switched what he was doing. He had begun to suck on her clit only to have the h/c girl cover her mouth, muffling a loud moan. And just like that, she had come. Sitting up, Alex looked down at the mess his girlfriend had become. Y/n had been panting to catch her breath after that amazing orgasm, a tint of blush had appeared on her cheeks. Just from the sight of the state Y/n was in had caused Alex to place a proud smirk on his face because he was the one to make his girlfriend end up this way. Licking his lips, Alex gave a wink before standing up, trying to relocate where his snapback had gone. After a moment of catching her breath, Y/n had gotten up from the bed, putting her underwear and pants on after she had found them tossed in the corner of the room. There was a moment of silence between the couple as they recollected themselves. They took turns standing by the mirror to fix their hair and tidy up their clothes. As soon as they had finished, Alex unlocked the bedroom door. “You ready to get back to your party?” “Yeah,” Y/n grinned taking her boyfriend’s hand in hers. Once they stepped out of the room, Alex leaned in, whispering something to his girlfriend. “Did you enjoy your present, birthday girl?”

[authorialarcanist]

Of Camps and Chakrams

Summary: When Colette's status as the Chosen of Regeneration requires that she stay behind while her class goes on a camping trip, Lloyd sneaks off to keep her company.

Written for Colloyd Week 2021 - Day 1: Childhood Friends.

Gen but kind of shippy.

---

Dusk was falling over Iselia.

The sun’s last orange rays played across the village, dappling the ground with criss-crosses of light and shadow wherever they slipped between the leaves of a tree.

The village was quieter than usual, today. Aside from the faint rustling of the wind, the only sound was an occasional greeting between neighbors on their ways home.

There was a reason for this: Tonight, Professor Sage had taken all of the village’s schoolchildren out to a nearby clearing in Iselia Forest - one far from the Human Ranch, of course - to go on a camping trip.

All of them, that is, except one.

While most of the parents in the village had come to trust in the eager young schoolteacher’s ability to take care of their children - especially after the day she’d dispatched an unlucky wolf that had snuck into the schoolyard with nothing but her staff - the priests of the Church of Martel were rather less lenient when it came to the safety of the Chosen.

Even with Colette standing next to the professor as she made her case, Colette’s eyes pleading silently, they’d refused to budge.

“We’re terribly sorry, but you know that far more than a single night’s outing is at stake here. It is our duty to ensure that the Chosen reaches her sixteenth birthday unharmed. Unfortunately, that means we cannot allow her out of the village until she receives the Oracle.”

And so it was that Colette came to be here, crouched in the yard behind her family’s house, tracing patterns with her finger in the grass and trying not to cry.

She knew why the priests had decided what they had. There were a thousand things that could go wrong out in the woods. There were monsters, falling trees, Desians who might choose to flout the Non-Aggression Treaty if it meant securing an extra generation of free reign. For the Chosen to risk herself, risk salvation of the world, simply for her own whims would be so terribly selfish that she starts to feel guilty for even wishing for it.

And yet…

She’d still wanted to go. She’d wanted it desperately; to roast apples over a campfire with the other children, laughing and playing... To watch the stars through the leafy canopy… To spend a night chatting merrily with her friends, Genis and Lloyd…

Her vision blurred as a splash of wetness dropped to the grass beneath her. No! She was the Chosen of Regeneration. The Chosen wasn’t supposed to cry over stupid, selfish things like a missed camping trip. If she cried, it should only be tears for the world; quiet, graceful tears at the atrocities of the Desians, before she reached the end of her journey and sealed them away once more.

She must not have been a very good Chosen.

“I’m sorry…” On an impulse, Colette apologized to thin air. Or maybe to the world at large; she wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, there were a voice and a crash from behind her. “Sorry for what? Woah!”

“Eep!” Who’s that? With a startled squeak, Colette jumped to her feet and spun around, losing her balance and collapsing from the sudden movement before she could catch a glimpse of the intruder. Once she managed to get her bearings again, she looked again, more slowly this time, and caught a glimpse of brown hair and a red coat lying face-down in the dust in front of the fence surrounding her house. “Lloyd?”

Her friend pushed himself up, grinning at her with dirt-smudged cheeks. “Hey, Colette,” he said, as though falling off of her fence was a perfectly reasonable occurrence.

Colette rushed over to him and crouched to try and help him up. “Lloyd, are you okay? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off camping with everyone?”

“Heh!” Lloyd rubbed a finger under his nose, looking pleased with himself. “Don’t worry about that, I had Genis cover for me while I snuck away! The professor won’t have noticed I was gone until it was too late!”

“Ah, I see!” Colette nodded, assured by the explanation. “…Wait, hold on! Isn’t the Professor going to be angry tomorrow?”

“Ah… Well, sure, but…” Lloyd shook his head and spoke like it was the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. “It’s fine! I mean, if the priests aren’t gonna let you go with us, then it’s worth it to keep you company!”

A flush of happiness ran through Colette. Lloyd had really stayed back just for her? …And then it was drowned in a wave of guilt. Lloyd had really stayed back, just for her. “Oh… Lloyd, no! I - I’ll be fine here. You shouldn’t have given up the trip for me! I’m so sorry… This is my fault…”

“Don’t apologize, you dork!” Lloyd flicked her lightly in the forehead, causing her to stagger back a step from the surprise. “I came back here because I wanted to. And anyways, I’ve got a present for you, from Dad! Here!” He shoved his hand out towards Colette’s face, two wide, flat rings dangling around his wrist.

Colette cocked her head to the side and examined the rings. “Huh…? Oh! Lloyd, are these new bracelets? Umm, they look nice! But… aren’t they going to fall off of your arms if you’re not careful…?”

“That’s not it, silly!” Lloyd laughed. “Dad made them! I told him about how the people at the church wouldn’t let you go camping with us. He made these, for you to practice with!”

“Huh? Practice? Umm…” Colette scratched her head. “I don’t get it, could you explain this again?”

“Oh! Sorry!” Lloyd chuckled sheepishly. “He said these are called chakrams! They’re a sort of weapon you can defend yourself with! You can throw them at enemies, so the priests won’t even have to worry about you getting too close to any monsters!” He scratched his head with his free hand. “Or, uh… At least, you could if you had real ones. Dad said he made these ones blunt, so that you can practice without cutting anyone. Oh, but anyways! I figured, maybe if you learn how to use these, they’ll decide it’s safe to let you go out with us next time we go on a trip!”

“Lloyd…” Colette stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally settled on throwing her arms around her friend. “Thank you so much! Oh, and Dirk, of course! Could you tell him thanks for me?”

“Ah—“ It was Lloyd’s turn to freeze up as Colette hugged him. Huh. His cheeks turned an oddly pretty shade of red. When Colette let go, he shook his head as though clearing it out before he responded. “Yeah! Of course, I’ll tell him!”

Colette glanced around. Nobody seemed to have noticed that Lloyd was here, yet. She knew she should probably send him home before he got caught, but… Well, it was really nice to have company! “Could you show me how to use those chakrams, then?”

“Right! Of course!” Lloyd grinned. “Watch and learn!” He pointed at a particularly sturdy-looking tree in the yard, grabbed one chakram in a clumsy fist… Adjusted his grip until he was holding it more loosely… “Um, Dad said you’re supposed to hold it like… this, I think? So that you don’t cut your palm on the blade 0f a real one…” and with a clumsy sideways motion, he hucked it forward. The ring wobbled slowly through the air, before skidding into the ground several feet away from the target.

Colette giggled.

“L-look, I’ve been teaching myself to fight with swords, okay? Chakrams are kinda new!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Colette shook her head, still grinning. “Umm… I guess I should try now?” She took the other chakram, tried to copy Lloyd’s grip, and tossed it sideways at the tree. Her disc flew more smoothly than Lloyd’s, but it still fell to the ground before it could reach the tree.

“Ehehe…” Lloyd glanced back and forth, not meeting Colette’s eyes.

“…I guess that’s why I have to practice, huh? Come on, let’s try again!” Colette ran ahead to gather the fallen chakrams, the camping trip all but forgotten. She tried a few more times as her friend watched from the side, experimenting with different ways of throwing the rings to try and find what felt natural. “Hmm… Hey, Lloyd?”

“Mhm?”

“You’re teaching yourself to use two swords at once, right?”

“Yeah!” Lloyd pumped his fist in the air. “I mean, double the swords means double the power, right?”

“I see!” Colette had never been accused of doing well in math, but the logic… seemedright…? “Then… I’ll try it like this, too!” She picked up the chakrams, holding one loosely in each hand. She widens her feet, slipping into the stance Lloyd had said felt best to him when he was practicing. “Let’s go… Hyah!” She turned around in a little spin to build momentum, before letting go of the chakram in her right hand and watching it sail gently through the air. This time, it soared a good ways without falling out of the sky. …A little too far, actually. The two children watched silently as the chakram missed the tree by a solid half a foot and kept going, slipping through a slat in the fence and vanishing into the night.

“…” Lloyd scratched his cheek.

“…” Colette’s face fell. “Oh, no! And it was your present, too… I’m sorry…”

“No! No, it’s okay, Colette! You don’t have to apologize, alright?” Lloyd waved his hands rapidly in front of himself.

“…Ah… Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Colette, what did I just tell you? You really need to stop saying sorry all the time!”

Colette chokes back her next sentence before she can apologize a third time. “…Still… I guess I can try and practice with just the one…? But… I don’t want to lose this one, too…”

“Hey, don’t worry!” Lloyd thumped his chest. “I can go track the lost one down and bring it back to you! Ah… Still, it’s probably for the best not to do that too much, huh. I wonder if there’s a way to make it come back to you when you throw it…?”

“Hmm, maybe! You could ask your dad?” Speaking of Dirk… Colette suddenly realized how dark it was. Night had well and truly fallen while she and Lloyd had been playing, and now the stars were visible above them. She called out to her friend, stopping him halfway to the fence. “Wait! Lloyd!”

“Huh? What is it, Colette?”

“Isn’t it late? Can you even get home like this?” Thinking about it… She knew that Iselia Forest was supposed to have monsters roaming it even during the day. How dangerous would it be without an adult around at night? She suddenly pictured Lloyd with a sprained ankle, waving a wooden sword ineffectually as glowing eyes slunk towards him through the darkness. She shivered and rushed over to her friend, grabbing his arm with both hands. “Oh no… What are we going to do…?”

“Ah…” Lloyd didn’t seem to have thought things over, either. He blinked, and grimaced. “Um… It-it’ll be okay! We just have to… uh…” His forehead wrinkled up as he thought, before he finally smacked a fist into his open palm. “I’ve got it! We can have a sleepover!”

“Huh?”

“Our own little camp-out, just the two of us! While I’m off looking for the chakram, you can go in and ask your dad for a blanket - say that you want to try camping out here, since you couldn’t go with the class! We can whip up a makeshift tent with that tree, and sleep in there!”

“Eh? But um… isn’t that lying? I… it’s bad to lie, isn’t it? There’s that vow you talk about, and everything…”

Lloyd flapped his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry! You really did want to go camping, right?”

Colette gave a hesitant nod.

“So it’s not a lie, see? Everything you tell him will be the truth!”

“Ah… I guess that’s true…?”

“Alright, then! Go on in and ask him, Colette! I’ll be back with your chakram!” With an enthusiastic wave, Lloyd darted off and clambered over the fence.

“Um… umm…” Colette stood in place, wringing her hands until he was out of sight. She was still a little worried about what her dad would say…

…But Lloyd was counting on her. And, well… It sounded fun! After all, wasn’t this kind of why she’d wanted to be on the camping trip in the first place?

Steeling her nerves, Colette turned on her heel and ran back into her house.

———

“Honestly… Those kids…” Frank Brunel stood at the window of his house, looking out into the yard where his daughter and her friend thought they were being sneaky. He’d already noticed more noise coming from behind the house than usual, so when Colette had run in suddenly asking for permission to camp out back, he’d been pretty sure he knew what was going on.

Still…

He watched quietly as two small silhouettes point up at the sky, probably pointing out different stars to one another.

While he’d keep watch to make sure the children were safe, he hadn’t had the heart to catch them out. Colette’s energetic friends were good for her, he was sure of it. With the horrible burden they were all placing on his daughter’s shoulders, he knew that she deserved people who’d think of her happiness here and now.

Who were they, him and the other adults of the village, to selfishly ask so much of Colette and then deny her even these small pleasures while she still had time?

No. Perhaps he couldn’t convince the church to let her go with her friends, but at least he could stay silent when her friend came to her. It was the least he could do.

The least she deserved.

Satisfied that the children would be alright unsupervised for a minute, Frank slipped into the kitchen to make himself some coffee before settling down to keep an eye out.

If it meant Colette could play like a normal child for a little bit longer, what was one sleepless night?

[inkandpen22]

Somewhere (5/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader  

Warning: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Part Summary: Sirius and Y/N are falling more and more in love with each passing day. Yet, their love must still remain a secret. Sirius has a surprise for Y/N to escape the troubles of London. 

A/N: sorry if this part feels rushed. I really wanted to get it out by the end of the day to keep up with the schedule. Hope you enjoy it! :)

Masterlist

When Sirius came to visit me last night, he told me to pack a bag for the weekend. I kept begging him to tell me why, but he wouldn't indulge. We fell asleep under the starry ceiling he gifted me for my birthday as we each night. Then, when we woke, I asked him again. He, of course, didn't give even a hint! I told my brother and the others that I'm going along with my friend on her family's road trip. Bradly was reluctant at first, but I reminded him that it was our last summer before going off to school. Lauren helped me convince him. She didn't directly as me if I was lying and secretly meeting Sirius, but I could tell she knew the truth. I've silently thanked her frequently for keeping my secret. I simply can't imagine Sirius not in my life. These last few weeks have been the happiest in my life.

After dinner, I leave with my bag, having told everyone that I was to head over to my friend's house. When in reality, I'm meeting Sirius in the park across the street by the fountain. We've done it before, whenever I go with him to hang out with his friends. Except this time, I won't be coming back for a few days. This will be the first time Sirius and I have spent an entire weekend together. He spends most nights at my house, Bradly and Lauren doesn't know that obviously.

I wait on our usual bench under the lightpost. It's gold light illuminates around me in a perfect circle. I watch the fountain splash, bright white lights makes the water shimmer. Hands appear over my eyes, making the world go black.

"Guess who," a familiar voice instructs.

"Elton John," I giggle, lowering Sirius's hands as I turn around.

He grins as he jumps over the back of the bench and sits beside me slickly. Resting his arm behind me, he leans in and plants a kiss to my lips. We part and rest our foreheads against each other, pondering the closeness after hours apart.

"How was your day, My Love?" He whispers, brushing strands away from my face.

"Uneventful and yourself?" I giggle.

"Consisted of me counting the hours until I could see you," Sirius charms. He does it so effortlessly. "Oh!"

He remembers something suddenly and reaches behind him. He brings around a small black coin purse-looking bag. "You can put your bag in here."

I glance between my tote bag and the wrist bag. He must be joking!

I point at it. "In that little thing?"

"You'll see," he snickers, opening it wide for me.

I suppose I'll just take his words for it. Picking up my bag, I hover it over the coin purse sized bag. I give Sirius a curious look as I lower my tote into his bag, knowing it won't fit. Then, his bag expands like a black hole and practically swallows up my tote. I stare at it, blinking rapidly.

"Okay, I love magic!" I gush.

Sirius laughs at my reaction, closing up the bag to stow away.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" I repeat the question for the millionth time since he mentioned the trip last night.

"And why would I tell you that?" He smirks.

"Could you at least give me a hint?" I plead with a pout.

He hums, thinking it over. "Are you afraid of heights?"

Oh no, is he going to make me go skydiving or something crazy? I don't think I could handle that. I do love planes and flying though!

"Depends..." I answer hesitantly. "What are we talking about?"

He changes the subject, "out of anywhere in the whole world, where do you dream of seeing?"

"Paris," I answer without a moments thought.

Sirius grin, his enthusiasm growing with each passing second. "Close your eyes," he instructs, rising from the bench.

I give him a knowing look, but do as he asks nonetheless. Covering my eyes with my hand, I wait patiently for whatever he's doing. I hear him move about, doing who knows what. Then, Sirius takes my hands and guides me to stand up.

"Do you trust me?" He questions and I can hear the grin on his face.

"I trust you," I reply wholeheartedly.

I feel him move in front of me with his back facing me. He takes my arms and wraps them around his waist. What on earth are we doing?

"Better hold on tight!" He hurries out.

"Why do-"

There's a jolt and instantly I don't feel my feet on the ground. My eyes fly open and we're several yards above the ground. I scream and hug Sirius tightly, pressing my body to his back.

"Oh my god!" I gasp.

"You're okay," Sirius laughs, unfazed by the fact that we're in the air.

I take in my surroundings and realize we're on a broom. These really exist? Magic brooms aren't just myths and fairytales?

"Are we really going to Paris!" I comprehend.

"For the whole weekend," Sirius informs me, gleaming.

I grip his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. "You're kidding!"

"Are you happy?" He chuckles, keeping his eyes ahead.

"Things like this don't happen for normal people like me!" I express, utterly dumbfounded.

Sirius shakes his head, "I can show you the whole world, Y/N! No where is impossible!"

I watch down below as London becomes nothing more than a series of lights scattered about and buildings minimize in size. People are practically specks. This is just magic, this a dream!

_____________________________________________________

We traveled from sunset to the moon shining brightly over the world. Brooms are insanely fast! We get into Paris within half an hour! Sirius zooms through the city, showing me everything from the sky. He knows it like the back of his hand. The lights are immaculate! There's so much culture, music, art, history, all in one city! There's so much to take in, I don't know where to look! Sirius assures me that we have plenty of time to experience everything and he has everything sorted. I still feel like I'm dreaming!

Sirius booked us a room at La Réserve Paris. I've never stayed in a more luxurious hotel! After check-in, we're escorted to our suite which has a sitting room in addition to the bedroom! It's huge! Then, the best part, it has two balconies that over look the city! 

I run over to the balcony and scan the horizon. It’s hard to believe I’m actually here! 

“I’m actually in Paris!” I jump up and down. 

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?” He inquires from within the sitting room. 

I spin on my heels, finding him grinning pleasurably on the sofa. I hurry over and join him. I kneel beside him, taking his hands in mine. “Far better!” 

After we get settled- more like Sirius getting settled and me admiring the view- Sirius tells me to check the closet. Inside hangs a long, low cut, baby blue chiffon. My jaw hits the floor practically as I admire it on the hanger, far too afraid to touch it. Everything is such a whirlwind!

Sirius wraps his arms around me and kisses my shoulder. "Do you like it?"

"Does Sunny like Cher?" I ask rhetorically, considering his question is insane! Of course I love it!

He chuckles, "you and your non-magic pop culture references. Get dressed, we're having dinner on the balcony!" He places a quick peck to my cheek and starts toward the sitting room.

"We are?!" I gasp.

"Take as long as you need!" He assures, strutting away gorgeously.

Holy crap, it's official- not that it wasn't before- I love this boy and this dress. Speaking of which, I turn my attention back to the dress. This gown is to me what hairspray is to Farah Fawcett, my crown jewel!

____________________________________________________

Dinner had me speechless! A maid and butler served us on the balcony. A perfect candle-lit, white table cloth, dinner that overlooked all of Paris. I could see the Eiffel Tower while we sat! Oh, and the food, my heavens! The steak cut like butter, the mash potatoes were smooth as silk, and the orzo! I had no idea what orzo was until tonight! Then, there's the champagne! I'm an eighteen year old girl, I've never had such classier champagne! I have the sort of champagne that can be picked up at the corner store. I'm starting to feel like an imposter, Queen Elizabeth should be in my place! I'm really waiting to wake up any minute.

After dinner, the maid and butler leave us. Sirius reveals his wand from within his tuxedo pocket. With a wave, he conjures up romantic music and asks me to dance. I'm honestly living a fairytale and I'm not taking it for granted. Sirius and I slow dance to a familiar melody. He twirls me playfully, causing both of us to laugh. At the end of the day, we're just kids and it's small moments like this that remind me. We may be in Paris, staying in a palace, dressing like we're royalty, but we're just starting out on our own. I'll be starting university in the fall, Sirius will be starting work, we're young.

I rest my cheek against his chest, pondering having him close.

Sirius recalls the night we met. His tone soft and quiet. "I looked up and my head started spinning. It felt like I was floating! You touched me and it was like being touched by an angel."

I lift my head, meeting his gaze. The lights of the city shimmer in his jet black eyes. "Your eyes glimmer like star in a clear night sky," I whisper, reaching up to caress his cheek. "A life filled with them starring back at me is a whole life."

His eyes search my face admiringly. "My life didn't start until I met you."

I nod, "Just you and me."  My words become a vow.

"For the rest of our days," he promises.

I lower my cheek to his chest again, a sudden rush of worry hindering my mood. "Could we really be together?"

"There's somewhere for us. A place where we can be together without anyone telling us we can't be." His fingers tuck under my chin, making me meet his gaze. He smiles, confident in his words. "Imagine it! A little home on the coast somewhere. We create a life all our own. We'll get married, have a lot of kids, grow old together!"

I laugh lightly, amazed by his plan. Evidently, he's thought about it. "Do you think it's possible?"

"All we need is you and me. As long as we have each other, nothing can stop us!" He states, so sure of it that I can't help but believe it.

I nod, committing myself to this, to us! I don't want anything or anyone else, Sirius is the only person I'll want forever. My life is him now.

___________________________________

Masterlist

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Dialogue heavy part. Also, I plan to make a masterpost with a link in my description so all the parts are easy to find in one place, and I can keep adding to it.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Harry spent most of the day with you Sunday, and went back to his place a little before dinner time. You woke up early Monday so you could get your workout in at home, and showered. Feeling fresh, you were thankful you had plenty of slacks to wear for the week. You hated wearing skirts or dresses on your period. You couldn’t wait to see Niall to ask him about Sarah.

You stop at the coffee shop and grab yours and Niall’s coffees. You get up to your office, and go right to his. He’s just settling in, and smiles at you.

“Hey there, lady killer.” You said handing him his coffee.

“Shh.” He looks around and closes his door. “Did she tell you anything?”

“She said she had a great time with you. Have you texted or called?”

“We’ve texted. I could kill you for not setting me up sooner.”

“I could say the same thing to you about Harry.”

“Fine, we’re even.”

“Besides, she was in between guys, I didn’t even know she was available. She raved about you, so I hope you guys see where it goes.”

“I’m hoping to see her Tuesday after work for a movie.”

“Oh, nice.” You smile at your friend. “You know if it goes well, the four of us could go on double dates, how much fun would that be?”

“Not so much.” Your face falls.

“Why not? I feel like we never hang out anymore.”

“Well, you’ve been busy, which is perfectly fine. And, I don’t really like double dates with Harry. I feel like I have to compete with him or something.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee.

“Compete with what?”

“I don’t know, everyone finds him so charming.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now. Sarah may decide the only thing she likes about you is your tongue.” You tease. Niall nearly chokes on his hot drink.

“She, she told you?”

“Only a couple of details.” You lie, you didn’t want to embarrass him. “It was all good things though, she was very impressed.”

“I honestly have to thank Harry for help in that department.”

“So I’ve learned.” You say blushing.

“Hold on a second.” He sits down next to you in the chairs across from desk. “Did you two get a little frisky this weekend?”

“Maybe a little.” You play with the top of your coffee lid.

“How do you feel?”

“Safe.” You lock eyes with him. “I only let him do…that. I didn’t let him use his hands or anything.”

“What made you want to do it?”

“Honestly, I was curious.” You shrug. “And I was just feeling really close to him. He, um, asked me to be his girlfriend.” Niall jumps up with a huge smile on his face.

“That just made my whole morning!”

“You don’t think it’s too soon to be official?”

“Not at all, in fact, Harry hasn’t had an actual girlfriend in like two years. He really does like you, (y/n).” You can’t help but giggle at his praise. “You haven’t changed your relationship status.” He says checking Facebook.

“I honestly hadn’t thought of it since he doesn’t have a Facebook.” You say getting up. “I’ll ask him if he minds if I change it.”

“Why would he mind?”

“I don’t know, then it’ll like really be official. Everyone will know I’m seeing someone. I don’t know if I’m ready for my parents and siblings to be up my ass.”

“Fair point. Okay, I’ll tell you what, things go well with Sarah, and all four of us can hang out some time.”

“I would love that.”

You go to your office, and get some work done. Lunch rolls around quick. Before you can go meet Niall you see a name on your phone. It’s Kate.

“Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Um, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just saw the pictures Rachel posted of the three of you. Thanks for the invite.”

“You wouldn’t have come anyways.”

“So, it’s still nice to be included.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one who made the plans, so take it up with them.”

“You’re my best friend, you should’ve texted me.”

“Kate, I’m at work.”

“You’re on your lunch break.” There’s an awkward pause. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone new?”

“Because it’s still really new.”

“Still, I hate hearing things from other people about you.”

“Who told you?”

“Rachel. She said some guy showed up to the club, and his friend took Sarah home or something. Apparently he’s super-hot.”

“You’ve met Niall before. Remember? He came with me to your wedding?”

“No, I mean the guy you brought.”

“His name is Harry.”

“Harry what?”

“Don’t bother looking him up, he doesn’t have a Facebook, and his Instagram doesn’t have any pictures of him.”

“Great, so you’re seeing a serial killer.”

“You could be happy for me. He’s really into me.”

“I just think you need to be more cautious.”

“I am. We haven’t done anything…serious.”

“Define serious.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations.” Usually, you and your friends were very open about sex, but lately it was hard to talk to Kate about these things.

“(y/n), you were practically ra-“ You cut her off before she could finish the word.

“Stop it! Harry is nothing like Jake!” Niall walks into your office horrified. You wave him in, and put your finger up to signal you’re almost done. “Kate, I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Fine. Look, Kevin and I are spending the weekend in the city, and we were wondering if you’d wanna hang out. Maybe the four of us can do a double date.”

“You know, it would be nice if just us girls could get together. You never come here alone.”

“You know how Kev is.”

“Possessive, controlling.”

“Enough. Do you want to see each other or not?”

“Of course I do. I’ll see what Harry’s up to. When did you want to get together?”

“Friday night? Dinner at our spot?”

“Alright, I’ll text you later, I need to go eat.” You hang up in a huff and nearly throw your phone across the room, but you stop yourself. You look at Niall.

“Was that Kate?”

“Yeah! God, she is so fucking infuriating. She has no problem making me feel bad about my past, but the second I call her out on something.” You try to steady tour breathing. “And now I have to see her this weekend.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I miss her, Niall. She used to be so much fun.”

“Well, if you bring Harry, just be prepared, he’s not going to let someone speak to you like that.”

“Great, dinner and a show.”

You show up to Harry’s after the gym. You drive there sort of on autopilot. You let him know you’re outside, and he buzzes you in. You have an open sweatshirt on over a sports bra. Your hair is up in a messy bun, and you’re wearing cropped leggings. You only went to lift weights since you got your cardio in this morning.

“This is a nice surprise.” He says kissing you on the cheek. He makes you stand in front of him to get a good look at you. “Sexy outfit.” Your cheeks flush. “Want something to eat? I was just making dinner.”

“I don’t want to impose, love.”

“S’not an imposition.” He smiles. “ I always make extra.” You walk over to the stove to see what he’s making. “Nothing special, just roasted chickpeas to top my salad.”

“It smells delicious. I’ll have a little.”

“Good, go sit.” He makes a plate for you, and sits down at the table with you. “So, what do I owe this honor on a school night?” You giggle.

“Well, I got a call from my friend Kate today.”

“The one you miss who’s married?”

“Correct.” He nods. “Her and Kevin, her husband, are coming into town this weekend, and she wanted to know if we’d have dinner with them.”

“We huh?”

“Mhm.”

“I didn’t even have a chance to tell her about you. Rachel told her I was seeing someone.”

“What night?”

“Friday.” He takes out his phone and checks his calendar. “Um, yeah that works. I have to work late that night, so if they’re okay with an eight o’clock dinner…”

“That would work well I think. I’m sure they’ll hit traffic. The place we’re going is kind of swanky, so you may want to bring a change of dress clothes with you to work.”

“Alright.”

“Is this okay with you? If you don’t feel comfortable-“ He puts a hand over yours.

“I would love nothing more than to meet more of your friends. Plus, she seems important to you.” He shrugs.

“I have another question?”

“Shoot.”

“So, we’re together.”

“Correct.”

“And typically, when two people make things official, it’s customary for them to change their status online, to let others know they are no longer available.”

“Are you asking me if it’s okay to change your Facebook status?” You smile nervously and he starts laughing. “Go ahead, baby. I mean, s’not like you can tag me in it, so it’ll just say you’re in a relationship.”

“I know, it seems silly. But now that Kate knows, and Sarah and Rachel…I mean, god I haven’t even told my mom.” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So wait to change then.” He takes his phone out. He goes into Instagram, and you get a ping on your phone. “style2294 has requested to follow you?” You smile at him.

“That’s my private Instagram. Told ya it wasn’t really under my name.”

“Very cryptic that you left it as style and not styles. Is that your birthday?” You ask, accepting the request, and follow him back. He accepts.

“Yup.”

“That’s around my half birthday.”

“Wait, don’t tell me.” He thinks for a moment. “August?”

“Bingo.”

“What’s the date?”

“The fourth, ’95.”

“So you like just turned twenty-four only a couple months ago. You young thing.” He teases.

“Oh stop, you’re literally a year and half older than me.” You go to scroll through his pictures, but he stops you.

“Wait to do that until we’re not together, please, some of those pictures are old, and embarrassing.”

“Alright.” You stop to think about your own photos. “I have some embarrassing ones too.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So, Friday, you’re sure?”

“Positive.” He takes both of your empty plates and places them in the sink. “Now then, come here so I can kiss ya.”

You go over to him, and he holds you in his arms, and kisses your cheecks, nose, forehead, and jawline. His hands move down to your bum, and you jump back with a squeak.

“Still got my period.” He gives you a funny look.

“So that means I can’t squeeze that glorious-“ You put your hand over his mouth.

“Please, I’m begging, don’t finish that sentence.” You say looking up at him with big eyes. He smirks at you. “What?”

“Lil horny are we?”

“Harry!”

“You are, aren’t you?”

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m not laughing!”

“Your smile says it all.” You cross your arms over your tender breasts. “It’s the hormones.”

“Sure it is. How were your cramps today?”

“Much better. What you saw yesterday was an anomaly.” You look down at your watch. “I should probably head home now.”

“I’m going to be really busy this week. With the weather still nice, and the leaves just turning, I’ve racked up some freelance stuff. I don’t want you to think I’m ignorin’ ya or anything.” You give me a hug and rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you for letting me know.” You kiss him on the cheek. As you’re about to break the hug he pulls you in, and kisses you on the mouth.

“Didn’t think I’d let ya leave with just a peck on the cheek?”

“What was I thinking?” You kiss him again. “Thanks for dinner.” You say on your way out.

Your period ends Thursday, thank god. Kate texts you saying that eight is perfectly fine for dinner Friday. You and Niall find yourself chatting before you leave for work Friday.

“You never told me how the movie with Sarah went.”

“We never made it to the movie.” He winks at you.

“You dirty dog.” You tease.

“So, tonight is your big double date?”

“Yup, I gotta go home and change.”

“Where are you guys going again? That Italian place?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Kate and I used to save up our money once a month to go there when we were in college.”

“Well, I hope it all goes smoothly. I know Harry will be there, but if you need anything, I’m there for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I’m seeing Sarah and Rachel with Kate and Kevin tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Sarah told me. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“Dirty, dirty dog.”

You go home, and freshen up. You pull out a red dress. It has a high neckline, but hugs tight around your thighs, accentuating your bum. You know Harry will love it, and Kate won’t be able to say anything because your chest is covered. The back is open, so you opt to not wear a bra. Instead you just tape yourself up. The material is thick enough that you can’t see your piercings through it. You curl your hair and brush it out to create your waves. You put on some red strappy heels, and uber to the restaurant. You want to be able to leave with Harry in his car later.

Kate and Kevin are standing in the lobby of the restaurant, it’s ten of eight. You two smile at each other and take each other in for a big hug. You give Kevin a much smaller embrace.

“You look amazing!” Kate beams at you. “That gym membership is doing wonders for you.”

“The best part is my company pays for it. I think laying off the meat has helped too. I mostly am forced to eat fruit and veggies.” You hear Kevin scoff.

“I still can’t believe you’re a vegetarian. It’s like you crossed over to the darkside.” You flip him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Harry’s a vegan, and I don’t want you making fun of him.”

“What the hell is he supposed to eat here then?”

“He’ll get some gluten free pasta and a salad or something.” You shrug.

“Where is he anyways?” Kate asks.

“It’s only eight now. He said he might run late, he had a really busy work week.”

“What does he do?” Kevin asks.

“He’s a photographer, a highly sought after one at that.” The two look at each other. “He works for a magazine, and does some freelancing on the side.” You take your phone out to show them his professional Instagram.

“Wow, these are actually really good.” Kate says.

“Don’t sound so surprised. Niall wouldn’t have set me up with some idiot.”

“Oh, you two met on a blind date?” Kevin asks. “Kate didn’t tell me the story.”

“That’s because she didn’t tell me the story.”

“Well, you can both hear it soon, when he gets here.”

“I hope it is soon, I don’t want them to give our table up.” Kate says harshly.

You feel a gust of wind, and turn around. Suddenly everything feels like slow motion. Harry walks in with damp hair, accentuating his natural curls. He’s wearing a light blue suit and a white dress shirt. He has brown dress shoes on. He looks heavenly.

“That’s him.” You say to Kate before walking over to greet him. He takes you in his arms, and kisses the top of your head.

“So sorry I’m wait, love, I had to have a shower. I was rolling in dirt all day.” He looks over at Kate and Kevin whose mouths are hanging open. “Hi, I’m Harry.” He sticks his hand out and they each take a turn shaking it. They both furrow their brows at his nails. He must have gotten them done this week because they were now a pastel pink and blue. His forefinger and middle finger were both pink on one hand and the rest blue. The opposite hand had the same, but opposite. He notices them notice. “Right, shall we?”

You all go to the hostess, and she seats you. Harry pulls your chair out for you, and helps you in. He takes his suit jacket off, and puts it over the chair. Kevin and Kate just sit down. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give him a gentle squeeze.

“It’s great to meet you, Harry.” Kate finally says.

“Likewise.” A waiter comes over before anything else can be said.

“Hi folks, I’m Matt, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you all off with a drink?”

“Vodka tonic for me please.” You say.

“Lime?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” Kate says. You frown for a second. She’s drinking, which means she’s still not pregnant.

“I’ll have a corona.” Kevin says.

“I’ll, um, have a gin and tonic.” Harry says.

“Perfect, be back with those in a few.”

Harry squints at the menu trying to see what he can actually eat. Another server brings over some bread and butter, and fills the water glasses. Harry leans into you.

“You look lovely, by the way.” You giggle.

“Thank you.”

“What are you going to eat?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe some ravioli?”

“So, Harry, (y/n), tells us you’re a vegan?” Kevin asks.

“Um, yeah.”

“If we had known we could have gone somewhere else.” Kate says, trying to make you look bad.

“It’s really no problem. There’s actually a lot I can have. They have zucchini noodles it seems. I’ll probably have that.”

“Don’t you feel hungry all the time without the protein?” Kevin asks.

“Not really, I eat a lot of nuts and beans.”

The waiter comes over with the drinks. He notices Harry’s nails.

“Oh, sir, I don’t mean to sound weird, but I love your nails.”

“Oh, thanks mate.” Harry smiles up at the young boy.

“So, um, did we have a chance to look over the menu?” Everyone nods. “Great, miss?” He nods to you.

“Can I please have the cheese ravioli, and can I have a side of whatever today’s vegetable is?”

“Of course. Sir?”

“I’ll have these zoodles with the roasted vegetables on top. No sauce, please.”

Kevin orders steak tips of course, which nearly makes you gag. Kate orders the raviolis as well. The two of them dig into the bread, and you also have a piece.

“Since the waiter brought it up, can I ask why you paint your nails?” Kevin asks. You want to kick him under the table, but glare at him instead.

“Just something I do for fun.” Harry shrugs. “I’m sure as an oral surgeon, you’re probably not allowed to have yours painted.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s a little girly.”

“Kevin.” You say, warning.

“S’alright.” Harry says. “I know it looks a little weird. But, I don’t necessarily think it’s girly. I like having clean nails. Why should women be the only people allowed to have a manicure?” He sips his drink.

“You can get a manicure without getting your nails painted.” Kate interjects.

“What’s the fun in that?” Kate looks down at his hands.

“The rings are nice.” She says.

“Thanks.”

“Is that an anchor on your wrist?” Kevin asks.

“Yup.” Harry rolls his sleeve a bit so they can better see it. “Can’t remember when exactly I got it, but it was a while ago.” Kate sees the cross on his hand.

“(y/n) is Jewish, you know?” Harry raises an eyebrow at her, then looks at you. “We all are, that’s how we became friends at school.”

“I didn’t know that.” He says looking at you, and smiles. “Guess the mezuzah in your front hall makes more sense now.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“It didn’t come up, Kate.”

“Alright, so, how exactly did you two meet?” Kevin interjects.

“We have a mutual friend that set us up.” Harry rests a hand on your thigh.

“Niall, right?” Kate asks. “He came to our wedding with (y/n).”

“Yup, Niall. He and I were mates in school, and he works with (y/n), obviously.”

“What did you do for a first date?” Kevin asks.

“We went to dinner at that tapas place.” You say, smiling at the memory. “And then after that we just kept seeing each other.” You lean close to him.

The food runner brings all of your plates over. You stare at the steak tips. They smell heavenly, but as soon as you see the juices drip down Kevin’s knife, you find yourself standing up.

“You alright?” Harry asks, slightly standing.

“Yeah, just, um, excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kate says standing up.

You two rush to the bathroom, and you splash a little cold water on your face.

“What’s wrong?” She rubs your now clammy back.

“Nothing, I thought I was going to puke. He had to order steak tips?”

“I thought you weren’t an ethical vegetarian.”

“I’m not, Kate, but jesus, I can’t help being absolutely disgusted.”

“Is this because Jake ate steak on your first date? Is it triggering?”

“No! You mentioning his fucking name is triggering.” You turn to face her. “You both could also stop grilling Harry so much. He’s really sweet and you both are judging him. Nail polish on men is becoming more and more popular, it’s really not that fucking weird.” She sighs.

“You’re right, we’ve been rude. I’ll settle down a little. Just please come back and try not to look at his food.”

While you both are in the bathroom, Harry and Kevin wait to eat.

“I hope she’s alright.” Harry keeps his eyes locked on the direction you ran in.

“She’s fine. So, how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“It’s been a month this weekend, actually.”

“I think that’s the longest she’s ever seen someone.” He laughs. “She was pretty wild in college.”

“Who wasn’t?” Harry shrugs off the statement, taking a sip of his drink. He sighs in relief when he sees you walking back to the table, and stands up. Kevin stays seated. “Alright?” He says sitting back down as you do.

“Yeah, just needed to powder my nose.” You keep your eyes locked on your food. Everyone digs in to their own.

“(y/n), I was thinking we could all go back to your place tonight after dinner.” Kate says. “That way we can keep getting to know each other.” She says with a smile.

“Um, sure, we could do that.” You look up at Harry who is giving Kate a funny look. “Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.” He smiles at you.

The waiter comes over and asks if anyone wants dessert, you all say no, and he leaves the check. Harry and Kevin reach for it at the same time.

“Your money’s no good here.” Kevin says. “We asked you both here.” You guess all men have this rule.

“I insist, at least let me split it with you.”

“Sure, we can split it.” They each put their credit cards in, and the wait come by and grabs it. He brings it back in no time, they both sign the slips. Harry leaves some extra cash on the table.

“Where’d you park, love?” He asks putting his jacket on.

“Oh, I didn’t drive here, I took an uber. I figured I’d just leave with you.” You shrug. He smiles and kisses you on the cheek. “Right, so we’ll just meet you guys at her place?”

“Sounds good, see you soon.” Kate says.

You and Harry don’t say much on the car ride to your place. Once you’re inside, you quickly tidy up. He sighs.

“What?” You ask, as you run around.

“Kinda rude to invite herself here, don’t you think?”

“That’s Kate.” You pull up a playlist on your Spotify, and connect it to your Bluetooth. “It’s a late 2000s playlist, should help lighten the mood.” You say, taking your heels off. “They won’t stay long anyways.”

“Kevin is, interesting.”

“He used to be more fun too.”

“He mentioned you used to be wild.” Harry puts his hands on your waist. His touch burns into you. “This is a really nice dress.”

“Thank you, and he’s just talking smack. I did used to party probably a little too much. But who doesn’t when they’re in college?”

“That’s what I said.” The buzzer goes off, and you buzz them in.

“Harry, could you open that bottle of wine for me please?” You ask pointing to the one in the kitchen, as you go to open the door.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” Kate beams at you. “You really should be an interior decorator.”

“Oh stop, you know my Nannie picked everything out.”

“Nannie?��� Harry asks.

“My grandmother, I call her Nannie.” You say giving him a peck on the cheek. “You guys want some wine?” You take out four glasses.

“Yes, please.” Kate says. You pour the wine into the glasses.

Kate and Kevin sit on the couch. Harry sits in the large chair adjacent to the couch, and you sit on the arm rest of the chair. He takes his arm, and moves you to sit on his lap. You giggle, and make yourself comfortable.

“So, how did you all meet?” Harry asks.

“Oh god, well (y/n) and I met at an activities fair. We both were looking for a film club.” Kate says. “I think you and Rachel were roommates freshman year right?”

“Yup. Then we met Sarah at that Jewish students meeting, that school had a club for everything. You and I roomed together sophomore year.”

“Awe that was such a good year. Then the four of us lived together our last two years. We met Kev our junior year.”

“And when did you two start dating?”

“Mid-way through our senior year.” She squeezes his hand. Kevin smiles at Kate.

“Yup, and then I stole her away.”

“That’s an understatement.” You say, sipping your wine.

“Excuse me?” Kevin says.

“Nothing, we just barely saw Kate after. You two stopped hanging out with us.” You shrug.

“We were busy.” Kevin says with a smirk.

“Kev, please, don’t flatter yourself.” Kate says, teasing. “You know we had a lot of classes together second semester, we were studying together a lot.”

“You practically moved out of our apartment.” Harry taps his hand on your thigh to the beat of the song playing, and you lean back further into him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice, with how little you slept there.” You shoot daggers at her. “And at least I was staying with the same person every night, not just throwing it around for anyone who would take it.” She takes a large sip of her wine.

“That’s because you got all of that out of your system your freshman year, remember?”

“I do remember, I remember you saying how jealous you were of me.”

“Little did I know there wasn’t much to be jealous of. You’re still bitter that Eric stopped seeing you because he wanted to see me.” You take an even bigger sip of your wine.

“Really? You’re bringing up Eric?”

“You started it.”

“Well, at least I never got an STD!” You stand up and so does Kate. The guys just look at the two of you.

“Kate! For the last time, I did not get scabies from sleeping with someone!”

“Oh no? Then you how else do you get scabies?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t sleep with any dirty guys.”

“Are you sure? Sophomore year you fucked anything with a dick! And you wanna know why we stopped hanging out with the three of you that last year? I told Kev how you felt about him, and he didn’t want to be around you anymore.”

“How I felt about him?” You point at Kevin. “I didn’t have feelings for Kevin, fuck Kevin.”

“Yes you did, you told Sarah that you wanted to fuck him, and you knew I liked him!”

“Well good fucking thing you married him, Kate! And I never told Sarah that, I never wanted to fuck your fucking boyfriend.”

“Then why would she have told me you did?”

“She was probably talking about Kevin from the track team. Did she tell you when she was drunk? She probably got confused. And just like always, instead of you just talking to me about an issue, you let it blow up for no fucking reason.”

“What do you mean like always?”

“You always make mountains out of mole hills, and you always think you know better than everyone else. Guess what, just because you’re married doesn’t make you any better than me.”

“There it is, you’re jealous that I’m living the life that you want.”

“What is there to be jealous of? You never have any fun, Kevin never fucking lets you go out!”

“Stop it.”

“You’re afraid of him, right? You’re afraid he’ll leave you? Personally, I think you could’ve done a lot better than him, but you needed the security right? You’re lonely, and you get mad at us for actually having lives. I didn’t tell you to run off with him, and buy a big fucking house. No one had a gun to your head, you made your choices.”

“Would you shut up!? You’re making me sound like I’m this idiot that can’t make a life for myself. Kevin and I love each other, and you’re just jealous of that because you can’t stand to see a married couple happy.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Ever since your parents separated you haven’t been able to stand the thought of marriage! I think you’re mad at yourself, you’re a slut, just like your mom!” You’re about to raise your hand to Kate, but Harry grabs your wrist.

“Alright”, he turns the music off. “I think that’s about enough of that.”

“Who are you?” She says to him.

“Kate, he’s right, you went too far.” Kevin says standing up.

“I won’t sit here and listen to you talk to my girlfriend like that.”

“Girlfriend? You two just started seeing each other!” She looks at you. “You said you were going to take it slow this time.”

“I did, we are!”

“Then how is he already your boyfriend, Jesus Christ, you are so fucking stupid! You trust people way too easily.” She shakes her head at you. Your blood is boiling, and you go to lunge at her, but Harry wraps his arms around you and holds you back. “Go ahead, let her hit me, it’s what she wants.”

“I think it’s time for you both to leave.” Harry says, still holding onto your shaking body. You steady your breathing, and tap his hands.

“You know something Kate, I know what you’re really mad about.” You smirk.

“What’s that?”

“You’re not actually angry with me, you’re angry at the fact that you married a guy that hasn’t been able to make you orgasm since you met.”

“Woah, what?” Kevin interjects. Kate’s mouth falls open.

“Speechless? That’s a first.”

You don’t register what’s happening until you feel Kate’s hand connect with your cheek. Harry steps in front of you.

“You need to get the fuck out now.” He says to her with dark eyes. You’re holding you’re stinging cheek.

“Have fun with your fru fru boyfriend, and his photos and his painted nails. Let’s see how long this one lasts.”

You don’t say anything, Harry follows them out. He comes back to you, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can barely breathe, your mascara starts to sting your eyes, and you can feel your cheek swelling. Harry crosses the room, he goes to touch you, but you flinch away from him.

“I’m so sorry all that happened. I should have interjected sooner, but it just seemed like you two needed to get something out.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say with a crack in your voice. “She’s just a bitch, and I should have stopped talking to her a long fucking time ago.” You press your fingers slowly to your cheek. “Fuck.”

“Let me get you some ice, go sit on the couch.” You do as he says. He pulls some ice out of your freezer and puts it in a baggy, then wraps it in a towel. He sits next you, and lightly dabs your face.

“Thanks.” You sniffle.

“She’s not worth your tears, love.” He takes his thumb and wipes just under your good eye. You lean into his touch.

“Baby?”

“Mm?”

“Will you please take me to bed?” He smiles and nods.

He scoops you up in his arms, and carries you to your room. He gently sets you down on the bed. He goes over to your bureau, and pulls out a t-shirt and shorts for you.

“I’m just gonna go down to my car. I, uh, packed an overnight bag just in case.” You nod.

You go into the bathroom, and wash your face, your cheek is still sore, but it shouldn’t leave a mark. You didn’t want anyone thinking Harry hit you. You change, and grab your phone. You sit down at your desk, and you call Rachel, knowing Sarah is with Niall.

“Hey girl.” She says to you.

“Kate fucking slapped me.”

“What?!”

“That bitch fucking slapped me!” Harry walks into your room, and starts to change in front of you. You can’t help but watch while you talk to your friend.

“Why? What happened?”

“She started a fight with me…I know I added fuel the fire, but she called myself and my mom a whore, so I blurted out that Kevin can’t fuck her right, and she slapped me.”

“Jesus, and she did this in front of Harry?”

“Of course she did!”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just stings a little, she slapped me with one of her rings on.”

“Well, you know how she likes it rough.” You and Rachel burst out laughing.

“Oh yeah, she a freak.” You stifle your laughter, as Harry gives you a very confused look. He looks heavenly in his grey sweat pants.

“So, I’m assuming we’re not all hanging out tomorrow?”

“I’m not seeing her again.”

“Alright, maybe Sarah and I could come by to see you then. You know Kate is going to twist this whole thing around. I’m glad you called to tell me first.”

“Me too. It’s sad how much she’s changed.”

“I think if she just left Kevin she would be so much happier. They’re not a good match.”

“We tried to tell her, Rach.”

“But mother knows best.” Rachel groans. “Is Harry still with you?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, then go be with your man. I’ll text you tomorrow to see when we should come by. Probably in the afternoon. Sarah is with your friend again tonight.”

“Oh, I know. And sounds good, talk to you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone, and look at the man sitting at the edge of the bed.

“What was so funny?”

“Nothing, Rachel just reminded me of something that Kate likes.” You shrug.  You stand up and walk over to him until you’re standing between his legs.

“Do you wanna just go to bed? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, would you cuddle me?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You both get cozy under the covers, and he spoons you nice and close to him. You wiggle your bum against him a couple of time, and he adjusts himself.

“If you keep moving against me like that, we’re going to have a problem.” He says into your ear. He starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just can’t believe she slapped you.” You start laughing with him.

“She’s an idiot.” He hugs you closer to him, and nestles in your hair. You both slowly drift off into sleep.

Early that morning, you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. Harry jolts awake and you look at each other.

“How many friends of yours have a key to this apartment?” He asks getting up.

“Too many.” You hide under the covers. “Make her go away.” He gets up, and leaves the room.

Kate looks much different from last night. She’s in sweats, her hair in a messy bun, and no makeup. She looks up at Harry. Her eyes are swollen and red, probably from crying. He crosses his arms when he looks back at her.

“I really don’t think she wants to see you.”

“I just need to talk with her privately. I need to apologize, I can’t lose her.”

“Seems like you lost her a long time ago.” She sighs and stands up. She starts to walk to toward your room, but he stands in her way.

“Move.”

“No.”

“You don’t get to decide who she speaks to.”

“You’re right, but she did ask me to make you leave. And you should probably leave that key on the counter on your way out.” Kate brushes past Harry, and she bursts into your room. She closes the door quickly behind him and she locks it.

“Harry!”

“She locked the door!” He yells. You get out of bed, and stand with your arms crossed.

“I have some explaining to do. I acted like a psycho last night.” You roll your eyes at her. “I suppose I was just taking all of my frustrations out on you.”

“Like you always do. I can’t be your punching bag.”

“I know that. I’m so sorry. Kevin and I stopped trying to get pregnant, and I haven’t wanted him to touch me. I may have lied about him not being okay with me coming to visit you guys.”

“What do you mean?” You both sit on the bed.

“Well, I made it all up. The truth was, it hurt to hang out. I was jealous of your lives. My parents pressured me into staying with him, and I stupidly listened. I love him, I do, but there’s no passion. Not like there was. We’re, um, going to separate for a while.” She chokes back a few tears. “I don’t expect you to feel bad for me, because honestly I deserve everything bad that has happened to me.”

“You don’t deserve to be unhappy, Kate.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been having an affair for the last month. I told Kevin last night.”

“Oh my god, with who?”

“One of his colleagues.” She says looking down. “I was always attracted to him, and one night we met up and just fucked, all night. It was incredible. He, um, likes the same things that I do.” Her cheeks grow red.

“Where are you gonna go?”

“Kev’s gonna sublet an apartment closer to the hospital so I can stay in the house. At least until we figure everything out. We’re probably going to get divorced.”

“What did he say when you told him about the affair?”

“Well, he asked why I would do that. And he asked how he could better satisfy me, and I told him what I was into, and he said he just didn’t feel comfortable with it, and I told him I knew that. He knows it was just a sex thing. We’re both still so young, and we don’t want to waste anymore of each other’s time.”

“What will you do?”

“Well, I’m almost done with my master’s degree, and once I have that I’ll start making more money so I’ll be able to move out. He said once I’m a month into my raise we’ll put the house on the market.”

“You figured all of this out last night?”

“Yeah, we were up all night talking. God, my parents are going to be pissed.”

“It’s not their life, Kate.”

“I know. Listen, I am so sorry I said that stuff about your mom, I never should have gone there.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it’s not.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to move on from this?”

“You assaulted me.”

“I really shouldn’t drink anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to need some time. I know I said some hurtful things to you too.”

“I told Rachel and Sarah what happened in a group text.”

“I called Rachel last night.”

“I cancelled our plans today. Kev is waiting in the car downstairs, I just wanted the chance to explain.”

“I appreciate you being honest.” You reach out and hug her. “I need some time to cool down from all this.”

“Okay.” She breaks your hug and stands up. “When will we talk next?”

“When I feel ready, I’ll call.” She nods. “Kate, I still care a lot about you, and I want to be there for you. But…”

“I made this mess, it’s time I cleaned it up.” She opens the door. Harry is leaning against the hall closet. “Thanks warden.” She says to him. She looks back at you, and then to him. “Treat her right, she’s special.” Kate leaves the apartment, and leaves the key on the counter like Harry said. Harry sits on the bed next to you.

“Good talk?”

“Sort of. Her and Kevin are going to separate. She’s been having an affair with another doctor for over a month.”

“I heard a little, why exactly did she stray from Kevin?”

“Kate, how do I put this, she likes to be a little rough when she has sex.”

“She likes to be rough, or she likes when someone is rough with her?”

“The second one. We all know about it, and promised not to say anything. At first she said she was just into like being tied up, you know little fantasies, but she’s into some really dark shit. Not to kink shame.” You say in defense. “People like what they like.”

“Define dark shit.”

“God, don’t make me say it.” You say a little embarrassed.

“What is it, a daddy kink?”

“Yeah, but like it’s more than that. She likes when a guy is like really dominant, like scary dominant. Like one time she came back from hooking up with this guy, and she showed us her butt and it was beat red, like it left this giant bruise. I guess he spanked her like ten times in a row or something. And then she told us that he like choked her and would spit in her mouth.” It sends a shiver up your spine. “Gross.”

“And Kevin wasn’t willing to do any of that with her?”

“Not really. He was scared of hurting her, which I completely understand. Ugh, this whole conversation has turned my stomach. Could you imagine spitting your own come into someone’s mouth?”

“Wait what?” He bursts out laughing.

“Some guy came inside of her, went down on her, licked it up, and spit it into her mouth and made her swallow it.”

“And she liked that?”

“Loved it!” You start laughing. “I really shouldn’t laugh, it’s not her fault she’s into that sorta thing. She just discovered it.”

“At first I thought you were just grossed out at like regular spitting, but I can see how that would gross you out. Even I wouldn’t do that.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“Regular spit isn’t gross, you’re already swapping spit as it is.” He shrugs. You put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m only going to say this once. Please, do not ever spit into my mouth.” He chuckles.

“You got it.” Your phone starts to buzz, it’s Sarah.

“(y/n), are you okay????”

“Yeah, Sarah, I’m fine.”

“I felt so bad, Rachel told me everything and I didn’t get Kate’s texts until a little while ago. Do you want us to come over?”

“No, I think I’d like to just hang out with Harry today. I’ve had my fill of girl time, but I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

“Alright, sweetie. Talk soon.” You hang up, and fling your back on the bed and groan.

“I just want to turn my brain off!” You look at him, he’s smiling at you. “What?”

“You wanna spend the day with Harry huh?”

“Sorry, do you have other things you need to do?” You say apologetically.

“Nope, I just thought it was sweet.” He climbs on top of you, and you wrap your legs around him. “Let me distract you for a little while.” He says into your neck, and he starts to kiss you slowly.

“I really should take a shower.” He sighs, and gets off of you. You get up, and look at him confused. “Well?”

“Well what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wanna be close with you.”

“You realize I’ll be naked, and you haven’t seen me yet.”

“But I’ve felt you. And who says I would even look?” You say playfully. “C’mon, come shower with me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, and gets up, following you into the bathroom.