#for nearly 3 years now I was like ‚oh ye i think i kind of like astarion i guess

[eyesxxyou]

First Drink 🥃

🍺・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 2.2k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

or

Logan gives you your first drink

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, drinking, forced alcohol consumption, dubious consent, fingering, squirting, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

Logan is far from a holy man. He drinks too much, smokes too often, hasn’t even stepped foot in a church in his entire life. He’d like to think he’s a good man though, one who tries to make the right decisions when he can, but he knows that what he’s like to think and the reality of it all were two wildly separate things. For how could he be a good man when he’s got it out for you, a pastor’s daughter?

He didn’t mean for it to happen. Kind of stumbled into it as one stumbles into trying cocaine. That is to say, he didn’t stumble into it at all. It was a deliberate decision made with addictive consequences. You were his neighbor, a meek, kind little thing often wrapped up in your bible while you sit quaintly on the front steps of your family house. You were young, not too young though. Freshly turned 21. Yet you still wore your modest clothing and pretty mary janes with frilly socks.

Logan was a perverted man. There was no way to get around it. You were as kind and as innocent as any one person could be. You spoke to him kindly, you brought him lemonade while he was working on his motorcycle and all he could think about was how pretty you’d look in his lap with his large hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock nestled nicely against your womb.

It was one of these days when you brought him lemonade and sat with him in his garage that he turned to you, hands covered in grease and oil. “You’re 21 now, right doll?” Logan grabbed a towel from out of the waist of his jeans and used that to clean off his hands before grabbing the small crystalline cup of fresh lemonade to sip on. It was almost as sweet as you, not nearly as pleasing to taste.

You sat on a small crate with your knees close to your chest. The toes of your sleek, black mary janes pointed to each other. “Yes sir.” He liked that about you, how respectfully you spoke to him. It reminded him of how much power he had over you, how many years, how much authority. Oh, he is far from a holy man.

“You had your first drink yet?”

You were a sweet, little thing, flustered at the mere suggestion of drinking alcohol. “Oh, no sir. I don’t drink. My father would never allow it.” You and your tender sensibilities. You and your innocent nature. Logan thought about how easy it would be to have his way with you. You wouldn’t fight, wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t so much as make a peep. You’d be too entranced by the way his fingers slide along your tongue and his length snuggle sits way into the walls of your unused cunt.

Logan hummed softly. “You wanna?” He watched the way your eyes shifted as you considered it, a world within your grasp if you just had the courage to reach for it. He’d give it to you, all of it, a universe of worldly pleasures. Why restrict yourself now to go to heaven when you can have heaven on Earth right here?

“I shouldn’t.” Your voice is slow and unsure. All you needed was a little push and you’d tip right over the edge into depravity. That’s the thing about little girls like you, you long for a touch of what’s beyond you but you’re always too scared to get it.

Logan stood up to his staggering height, all legs and muscular torso. “Come on, no one will know but me and you.” He offered a hand to you and after a moment of hesitation, you placed your hand in his large palm and let him pull you up to your feet and guide you into his house. It was a world you had never before seen, rustic and dark, smelling so strongly of Logan you thought you might faint.

He had a whole cabinet for his alcohol, bottles of scotch, whiskey, and bourbon. Logan grabbed a bottle out of the cabinet along with a whiskey glass for you to sip out of. He poured some out and you watched with utter fascination. The golden brown liquid long kept from you for fear you may lose your spot in Heaven. Worldly pleasures such as drinking doomed you to Hell.

“Come here, doll.” Logan coaxed you towards him with two fingers as he sat down on his couch, legs open just enough to offer you a comfortable seat on his thighs. You trembled like a newborn deer, scared of this strange, new world you’ve found yourself in. He brought you into his lap, his hands resting on your thigh as he pushed the glass of whiskey into your hand. “Go ahead and try it.”

You looked into the glass, golden brown sloshing around. It didn’t look so intimidating, like drinking Coca-Cola. But it didn’t taste like Coca-Cola when you lifted the glass to your lips and took a sip. It tasted bitter and burned your throat as it went down. “I don’t like it.” You pouted softly, turning to look over your shoulder at Logan. His fingers slowly began to gather the fabric of your skirt, pulling it up your thigh. “Just keep drinking, doll.”

You were a good girl. You did as told, entirely unaware of the way his fingers kept pulling at your skirt until it was entirely up your thigh. You felt his rough fingertips against your bare flesh and shivered as he traced figure 8s into your skin. “Mr. Howlett?”

“Shh, keep drinking.” Logan murmured as he felt up your thigh, closer and closer to your heated cunt. You writhed in his lap, simultaneously uncomfortable and aroused as you felt his rough fingers brush against the damp fabric of your cotton panties. The stuck to your pussy lips, wet and sensitive as he pressed his thumb to your clit through the fabric and began to rub. Logan took his free hand and pushed the cup back to your lips, tilting it to force you to drink.

Logan couldn’t help himself. You were here, splayed out before him for the taking. He’d be stupid not to take advantage of, take advantage of you. You didn't fight it, just as he had expected, like a good girl. “Spread your legs now.” He clicked his tongue and crooned into your ear.

Trembling, you shook your head. “I– I can't.” Your voice, all small and meek, only made his pants tighter. You could feel it, the bulge against your ass through his jeans. Or maybe that was the large buckle against his pelvis.

“Yeah you can. Open up, doll.” He shifted you slightly so that you were sitting on one of his thighs. He used his leg to part yours a bit further, skillfully. He’s had many girls in his lap, none as pretty as you.

Logan stroked your quivering cunt. “What a wet little girl you are. You been thinking about this, pretty girl?” He bounced you on his thigh and let you slide further into his fingers. A stifled whimper escaped you as you braced yourself against him. “Mr. Howlett– please.” You pleaded for your innocence, for your integrity. Most importantly, you begged for him not to expose your innermost thoughts. The sinful way you look at him, all muscle and hair and man.

Your fingers grasped at his wrist and forearm, nails digging into his skin. It wasn't like you were trying to move his hand, not like you could if you wanted you.

You gasped as he curled a finger into the side of your soaked panties and pulled them to the side. Your cheeks began to swell with the heat of embarrassment. Of course, you never expected to have any sexual experience before marriage so you hadn't shaved between your legs. Logan didn't mind at all it seemed, his finger dipped between your lovely lips and stroked in tender touches.

You squirmed in his lap, whimpering. “Mr. Howlett, I…I shouldn't. Please.” His thumb pressed on your puffy clit, pulsing with arousal, and you choked as the electrifying jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. You had ever been touched like this before, not even by yourself. Logan’s experienced fingers circled your leaking entrance, teasing at all the possibilities of pleasure.

“No one has to know, doll.” Grunted Logan. He felt the way your pussy fluttered, the whole thing aching with want. He eased a single finger into you, sighing out a sweet “Jesus” at the way your walls clamped down around him. You let out a squeal, back arching away from him, your nails sinking into his hairy forearm. Your entire body shivered. “Too big,” you murmured, “‘s too big.”

You were small, tight, and already complaining that a single finger was too much. How could he possibly fit his fat cock into your cunt? Logan was sure he'd tear you in half, his precious girl. “Relax, grab that bottle and drink some more, baby. It’ll help you loosen up.”

With a shaky hand, you reached out and grabbed the bottle off the table in front of you. You brought it to your lips and sipped at the liquid while Logan rubbed your hip with his free hand. “Good girl. I gonna keep going now.” You shook your head viciously. “No, no, no, ‘m not ready.”

He cared not for your concerns. Free hand pulling your legs apart, Logan curled pulled his finger from your gripping cunt before sliding it back in. You were all warm and soft on the inside, just like you were on the outside, even more so. You squeaked and squealed in his lap, his thumb attacking your clit in ferocious circles.

It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, being fucked with a single thick finger. You mewled, mind growing hazy as your hips rocked against your will. Logan knew you wouldn't be able to handle a second finger. He’d rupture your hymen and he wanted to save that honor for when he pushed himself into you and possessed you completely.

You were dripping down his knuckles. He fingered you so hard and fast, you nearly screamed as you thrashed in his lap. “Mmmh ah, ah… ngh.” Something wet trickled out of you and down Logan's hand, clear and dripping. A weak, little squirt, followed by a much larger one.

“I– I’m sorry, I didn't…” You panted out, whining. Logan cooed lowly in your ear. “Got myself a squirter.” He chuckled, a nice puddle on his leg and couch from your sweet show of pleasure. He curled his finger, messaging your soft walls in desperate search of that soft ridge where your g-spot lay.

When he found it, Logan smiled, chucking as you yelped and cried out, a rattling moan shivering up your spine. You tried to slow his hand, grasping and scratching at his arm. You fell back against his chest, legs splayed open while he took the time to abuse your pretty cunt. “You okay, doll?”

You whined vaguely, hazily, your body rolling then slumping, tensing then relaxing. “I– It feels weird.” Something was building within you. Something tight and breathtakingly beautiful. Tears pricked your eyes, wide and pretty, weeping with the brutality of your orgasm, pressing on the edge of unknown pleasures.

And it snapped like a rubber band. Everything that had been held back released all at once, ravishing your body to the point where there goes pointed in your Mary Jane's and your back arched. Shaking, you clawed at Logan's arm so hard you left bright red marks lining his flesh. “Mr. Howlett!”

“Shh, shh, don't want the neighbors to hear you, do you doll?” Logan slowed his hand, pulling his finger from your aching pussy. His entire hand dripped with your cum, sweet and creamy, some slick with your squirt. “Open up, little one.” He teased the tips of his fingers to your lips like he had that glass of whiskey. Coaxing your mouth open, Logan slipped his fingers between your lips and pressed his fingers to your tongue.

You tasted nice, sweet. Your body unmarred by the poison of excessive alcohol, smoking, or junk food. You were clean and pure, untouched by anyone but him. Logan loved it, knowing that he’s the first man to ever touch you. The knowledge was almost as good as an orgasm by itself. You were his, he possessed you. You were his before you were anyone else's.

When you stood, skirt falling back down to your knees, your legs trembled with the aftershock of your first orgasm. You let out a deep, shaky breath, trembling as you turned to look at Logan’s sitting figure. “M–M–Mr. Howlett.” It’s all you could manage to say to him, choking. You had been violated; your sacred temple desecrated.

And you liked it.

Logan hiked himself up to his feet from his couch and stood before you, towering. His hands on your hips, he pulled you in close to him. You braced yourself with your hands against his solid chest. Your cheeks were still wet with tears which Logan wiped away with the pads of his thumbs. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow, doll?”

You were such a good, obedient girl. You nodded slowly. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

[rynbutt]

mansplaining. | spencer reid.

request: @a-second-hand-sorrow "hey queen, just wanted to say i absolutely love your spencer stuff, you write him so well!! as a fellow aussie I was wondering if maybe you could write something with spencer and an australian reader? just something cute and silly, maybe with him infodumping everything he knows about australia ahaha, love your work!"

you can find my other fics on my masterlist.

requests are open!

cw: fem!aus!reader, none really, fluffy, silly fr

a/n: short and sweet hehe

Henry held your hand tight as you guided him to the elevator.

JJ had just gotten back from a trip to Michigan for a case. She ended up sleeping for a couple hours before she had to go back into work again, all before little Henry woke up for the day. Since she hadn’t seen her son in almost three weeks, you thought it would be nice to bring Henry to her with some lunch as a surprise.

You had been JJ and Will’s nanny for almost 8 months now. Since Will had returned to work and JJ’s job was still incredibly demanding, they started looking for a nanny for their 3-year-old son. You just so happened to be looking for a job and to finally put your experience as a nursery assistant back home to good use. 

“You excited to see mummy?” You asked Henry as you stood in the elevator, his little FBI visitor badge far too big on his little body.

“Yeah!” He replied excitedly, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You had taken Henry to pick up some lunch at JJ’s favourite place then let Henry pick out a pastry for each of you to have for dessert.

“Alright, remember, you have to hold on tight to my hand, okay? There are lots of people around,” you reminded the young boy, crouching down to his level.

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded, his tiny hand squeezing yours.

The elevator dinged and you gently guided Henry toward the bullpen, silently searching for JJ’s office. Henry stayed close to you as you swerved through the busy agents. You decided to ask someone who you thought looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, Emily, right?” You gestured toward the dark haired woman sitting at her desk.

She glanced up at you, seeming to recognise you and little Henry almost instantly, “Oh hey! You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of JJ’s office-”

“Did you know the Australian mainland extends from west to east for nearly 2,500 miles?” someone behind you said, obviously hearing your Australian accent.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked at you, “don’t mind, Reid.”

You turned around to look at ‘Reid’, he was cute, probably the young doctor JJ told you about. You pointed at him, “Dr. Spencer Reid, right?”

He ignored you, “And most of the rocks forming the foundation of Australia are from the Precambrian and Paleozoic time… about 4.6 billion and 252 million years ago respectively,” he looked up at you, “yes, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

“I’ll go get JJ for you,” Emily sighed, frowning disapprovingly at Reid. You sat down next to Emily’s desk, picking up Henry to sit him in your lap.

“Where are you from?” Another man asked, “I’m Derek Morgan, you must be Henry’s nanny?”

“Yeah, I am… I’m from Melbourne,” you smiled.

Spencer interjected, “Melbourne isn’t said like that. The spelling negates that.”

“Kid… she’s from there, I think she knows how it’s said,” Morgan retorted. 

You just chuckled softly, “I’d love to hear you mansplain my country to me, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not mansplaining,” Spencer replied, seeming offended.

“You kind of are,” Morgan added, leaning back in his chair.

“Mansplaining!” Henry exclaimed, making both you and Morgan laugh. Henry bolted from your lap the moment he saw his mum. You stood up to greet JJ as little Henry tackled her in a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” JJ asked, cuddling Henry close to her.

“We thought we would surprise you for lunch,” you smiled, “Henry picked some pastries out for us too, for dessert… I hope it’s okay?”

“No, it’s perfect,” JJ replied, “it’s just what I needed honestly,” she sighed, giving you a side hug as she guided you to her office.

Henry sat on the floor playing with a few toys you brought along for him while you and JJ talked, “so, that Dr. Reid? He’s a character.”

“You met him, huh?” she leans back in her chair with a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you replied, “he seems…” you trailed off.

JJ nodded knowingly, “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“He’s cute though,” you shrugged with a small laugh.

“Mm, I’ll make sure to tell him that,” JJ teased.

“Don’t you dare,” you retorted quickly. 

You spent the last half an hour of JJ’s break sitting with her and Henry on the floor helping him do a puzzle he had left from the last time he was here. It was nice for JJ to see her son, she missed him terribly but she knew he was in good hands with you.

JJ had to get back to work shortly after and she squeezed Henry in a tight hug, reminding you she might be late again tonight, which you didn’t mind. 

“Say ‘bye-bye’, mummy!” You held Henry’s hand, waving at JJ. 

“Bye-bye, mommy!” Henry called, waving his little hand around. 

You spun around, guiding Henry through the bullpen again before an idea popped into your head. You turned on your heel at the side of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey, Dr. Reid?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He peered up at you.

“Ever heard of drop bears?”

a/n: i hope you liked it! i know it was a short one but i think it's funny. another chapter of pierced coming soon >:)

[stevie-petey]

blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb

i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!

enjoy <3

"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"

"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."

"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.

you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"

steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"

"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"

"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."

with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.

lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.

the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.

"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.

steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"

"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.

had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.

"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.

"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"

steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"

"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"

"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."

"i want you dead."

both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.

"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"

"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"

"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"

dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.

"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.

dinner is not fun.

dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.

"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.

mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.

"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"

"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."

"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"

your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"

"i adore it."

later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.

[lixzey]

the name of the game

Sirius Orion Black has, for the first time in history, lost.

Sirius was known to be a bit of a daredevil, always betting with his friends for things he knew he could do no matter what. However, he had just suffered his first ever loss in a bet. He agreed to a bet against James, that he could get five detentions within a week. He was sure it would be easy, and that he would win. But when the end of the week came, he had only gotten four detentions. James had won the bet, and Sirius couldn't believe it.

Now, because of the terms of the bet, he had to do whatever James wanted him to do.

One would think that since they were best friends, it would be easy and all that, but it wasn't.

Yes, Sirius Black and James Potter were the best of mates, but that doesn't mean they'd go easy on one another. Others would think it's pathetic, but Sirius and James enjoy making their lives a little bit harder. But above all, they have been through all the good and bad together—well, mostly the bad.

Sirius knew James like the back of his hand. It was James' first time winning a bet; naturally, he'd take his time picking a dare for Sirius. The possibilities were endless, and knowing his friend, it was bound to be either humiliating or disgusting—like how Sirius always dared James.

“I know what to do with you.” James smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Let's get this done and over with.”

“For the love of Merlin, don't make Sirius show his arse in the Great Hall, James.” Peter groaned from beside Sirius, leaning over the wall behind him.

"Oh, I won't, Pete.” James grinned, turning to face Sirius. “I dare you to go on a date with someone.”

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him, a smug smile gracing his lips. James wanted him to date someone. It was too easy! Here he was thinking that James would dare him to punch Snape or any other Slytherin, for that matter. Sirius has no problem getting a girl. It was too bloody easy. All he had to do was smile, and a girl would be on her knees, begging for him.

As if reading Sirius' mind, James smirked. “Oh, I'm not done yet, Pads.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Go on then, Prongsie.”

“I dare you to go on a date with someone,” James repeated. “And you have to ask her to be your girlfriend.”

Sirius nearly choked on his own saliva. James wanted him to go on a date with someone and ask her to be his girlfriend. What kind of sick joke was that? Sirius has never asked anyone to be his girlfriend in all of his eighteen years of existence. He'd hook up with girls and forget about it the next morning. Sirius Black never commits, even if it's only for a dare.

“I'm not doing that, James.” Sirius crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have to!” James said indignantly. “I did everything you wanted each time I lost a bet!”

Sirius thought back to the last thing he had James do when he lost against him. Sirius had told James to ask Lily Evans out in the most exaggerated way possible. He made James sing and dance in front of everyone in the Great Hall. It was hilarious seeing James proclaim his love for Lily Evans wearing dress robes only to get hit in the head by a dictionary-sized book.

Remus sighed and shook his head. “It's a terrible idea, James.”

“Oh, please, Moony. I deserve this! Padfoot always wins, and this may be the first and last time I get to win and dare him to do shit.”

Remus raised a brow at James. “You want to drag an innocent girl into this just because Sirius always wins?”

“Don't be such a buzzkill, Moony.” James rolled his eyes, playfully shoving Remus to the side. “So what do you say, Padfoot? You game?”

“I'm in,” Sirius said without thinking. “It's not that hard; I mean, how bad could it be?”

James' grin widened. “Glad to hear it, my good friend.” James then started to elaborate on his dare.

1. Sirius has to court a girl of James' choosing.

2. Date her for a year, and when she's completely head over heels for him,

3. He has to break her heart and tell her it was all an act, all part of a dare.

“I bet you can't do this, Pads,” James teased, wrapping his arm around Sirius.

Sirius scoffed. “I can and I will do this. You're on, Potter.”

James and Sirius shook hands, marking the start of the dare. Remus sighed in annoyance, while Peter had no choice but to support Sirius. Unlike the past bets the Marauders made, this was a secret; no one else could know about it.

“So, which girl is Sirius going to date?” Peter asked. James' eyes scanned around the courtyard, choosing between the girls scattered around.

“Her.” James declared after a while, pointing to a girl clad in gryffindor robes who sat alone by the large fountain. She had long (y/h/c) hair that fell over her shoulders in soft waves and bright (y/e/c) eyes that were glued to the book in her hands.

Sirius stared at the girl, confused. “Who is she? I don't know her.”

James snorted. “She's in our year, you dolt.”

“You were far too busy flirting with every other girl here at Hogwarts to even notice her.” Peter shrugged.

“Honestly, Sirius. You've spent nearly seven years at this bloody castle.” James tutted mockingly.

Sirius continued to stare at the girl. How come he has never seen her before? She was in the same house as him, and yet he never noticed her.

Of course you don't know her, a voice in the back of Sirius' head whispered. You hardly notice anyone who's not worthy of your attention.

“Who is she, then?”

“That's Y/N L/N.” Remus said matter-of-factly. “I've sat with her once in Arithmancy.”

“She's perfect!” James exclaimed. “You two can get to know each other.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sirius rolled his eyes before breaking into a mischievous grin. “Game on.”

“You'll start tomorrow, Pads.” James said, patting him on the back. “You have until graduation.”

Sirius smirked confidently. “This is going to be fun.” This was going to be a piece of cake. He won't need a whole year to make Y/N L/N fall in love with him.

“Give me a week, and Y/N L/N will be mine. Mark my words.’’

Remus rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. This was a bad idea, and he knew it would backfire in the worst way possible. But Sirius was too stubborn to listen. This was only the start of another one of Sirius' stupidity, and knowing Sirius, there would be more to follow.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @lilmaymayy @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You can hear Thor following you as you storm down the pavement. You cover your face as your horror overflows in choking sobs. You’ve never hurt like this before. The pain is so deep you could crumple to the ground then and there. 

He grabs softly at your hand as he tries to stop you, “little one.” 

“Please, let me go,” you beg as you tear away from him, nearly tripping, “oh god, I can’t believe--” 

“Shh, shhh, please, breathe,” he grasps your wrist firmly and stops you, “it’s late, I can’t let you go running off into the dark.” 

“I’ll find a bus,” you insist, “please, I--” you face him and heave, “how could he do this to me?” You babble and use your free hand to mop your cheeks, “how could I ever think he wanted me?” 

“Oh, dear,” he sweeps you into a hug before you can stop him. “It isn’t that. He is wrong. He is... I am ashamed to call him my son.” 

You want to resist. You know you should but his embrace is soothing. The sound of his heart beat as he pulls your head to his chest keeps yours from racing. You hug him back and sniffle. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, “but he is your son.” 

“And?” He rubs your back and rocks you, “it doesn’t mean I condone this behaviour. I’ve been soft on him too long.” 

His words drift into the cool night air as you cling to him. He’s warm against the chill. You shudder out a breath as the silence roils with tension. His hand stills and crawls up to the back of your head as he slowly parts. He looks down at you as he holds you at arm’s length. 

“You will stay. Just for the night so I know you are safe,” he says. 

“I can’t--” 

“Yes, you can,” he drags his touch down your neck and arm and takes your hand, “come.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you plead as he tugs you back towards his house. 

“Thor,” he corrects swiftly, “trust me, just this once.” 

You can’t argue. He’s already done so much. Your car, the tip, you feel as if you owe him. Even in this circumstance. 

He takes you up the front steps. Your reluctance weighs down your steps and he coaxes you forward. He hushes you again as he takes you through the front door and stops you just short of the staircase. 

“You will go to my room, right at the end of the hall,” he points as he turns to you, “lock the door for now.” 

“Thor, what’s going on? What are you going to do?” You squeak. 

“What I should’ve done long ago.” 

“Are you...” 

“He is my son, I wouldn’t harm him, yet he has hurt you. He has made a habit of using people, not only you but myself, his brother, his mother... it cannot stand,” he declares, “please, go, I shouldn’t like him to see you, in case he does choose violence. We both know his temper.” 

Your mouth falls open and you look past him then to the stairs, “you don’t have to... for me.” 

“It is right. He is not a child anymore. It is a lesson overdue for many years. I cannot help but blame myself for your pain so let me try at least to atone,” he squeezes your shoulder then nods to the stairs, “please.” 

You lower your lashes and turn to climb the stairs. You stop at the top to peek back again. He looms. You continue on and find your way to his room. You shut the door but cannot move away from it. 

You flick on the light. His room is painted a deep shade of evergreen. The wooden floor is dark and smooth, with a rug beneath the large four-postered bed. A king-size with a thick frame built of square planks. There’s a desk by the window and a chair of the same heavy wood as the bed. A large wardrobe stands opposite with a houserobe hung from the slightly ajar door. 

You turn to the door and press yourself to it. You can hear his footsteps below. It happens all at once, muffled but decisive. Magni’s door swings open and hits the wall, Something falls over, probably that table you told him was too close. 

Then a girl’s yelp and deep timbres. An argument you can only make pieces out of. Their voices rise higher and get clearer as you hear them moving. The front door opens and snaps shut again. They’re still yelling. Oh god, what do you do? 

You can only listen as the tempest blows below. There’s movement too, some banging and slamming. Footsteps back and forth. It lasts forever. Your chest is about to split open. You hear Thor’s voice as clear as if he’s right beside you. 

“Get out,” he demands. 

The front door opens again and you hold your breath. There’s a strange cracking noise before feet stomp outside and across the porch. You scurry to the window to look out. Magni’s shadow stalks angrily through the dark, the outline of his knapsack crooked over his back. 

You retreat and pace around the room. Waiting. The house falls back into silence and you hear Thor climbing the stairs. He sighs and it drifts toward the door. You face it as he knocks from the other side.  

“Hi,” you utter dumbly. 

He slowly twists the knob and peeks around the door, “he’s gone.” 

You gasp as you see his face. There’s a split across the bridge of his nose. Your fear subsides in the wake of concern. 

“What happened?” You rush forward as he lets the door fall all the way open. 

He won’t look at you. 

“Ah, he was caught offguard is all,” Thor rubs the back of his neck. 

“He hit you?” You stop before him, looking up tremulously. 

“I’m glad it was me and no one else,” he intones. “If you weren’t here, I can’t say I’d have left him in one piece.” 

“Oh,” you whimper. 

“I don’t mean to scare you,” he shakes his head. 

“Your bleeding,” you say as his nose drips red. 

“Ah, I thought I’d stopped it,” he presses his knuckle to his nose. 

“Here, let me help, um,” you look around and rush over to the en suite bathroom. You dip inside as you hear his uncertain steps in the bedroom. You return to him, “er, can you sit? I can’t reach.” 

“Of course, little one,” he sits on the bed and drops his hand. You unravel toilet paper from the roll and fold it into a square. You raise it to dab his nose gently. 

“Does it hurt too much? Is this too rough?” You ask. 

“Not even close,” he assures. His blue eyes sparkle at you. The way he watches you makes you sweat. 

You stare at the split higher up his nose over the cartilage, “do you think it’s broken?” 

“He had it crooked but I put it back,” Thor chuckles. 

“Oh,” your frown. 

“I can take it,” he says, “I’m so disappointed...” he flicks his lashes down, “to think I could raise a heathen like that. Someone who would hurt you.” He winces and reaches to take the toilet paper from you, “I’ve got it.” 

You retract your hand as he presses the tissue to his nose. You clutch the roll and sway nervously.  

“Where’s he gone?” You ask. 

“It isn’t my problem,” he growls, “the idiot. How could he not see--” He stops and looks at you, agonized, “you don’t deserve that. What you said before, it isn’t true. You are easy to want, little one, but he is young and arrogant.” 

You bite into your lip at the unexpected compliment. You can’t help but think he only says so because it’s what he’s meant to say. Everyone’s nice to the broken hearted. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t care either,” you resign. You look him over and your chest pangs. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?” 

“Oh, no, I should be asking you,” he stands. “First, let’s get you settled. Modi’s old room should do, I think.” 

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

[ellecdc]

im here for the drinks! what do you think about james being proposed to? ive usually seen thats james proposing to, so i think it will be cute the other way

congrats gor the 4k, you deserve it!! 💓💓

awweee this is so stinking cute - and Jamie so deserves it! now I'm not very romantic so I'm not going to plan the proposal, just his response/reaction - thanks for playing <3 <3

I believe this would be one of those moments that James is just completely struck dumb - he almost always has a quip or a question or a reaction or something to say - yet here he is standing in the middle of the (park? aquarium? venue?) staring at you with his mouth hanging open

I think after a few moments of you staring back at him and then an awkward/nervous "...uh...Jamie?" - "yeah?" - "will you? marry me?"

I see him falling to his knees as well (if that's how you went about it) and just smooshing you up against his body, his hug nearly painful but much better than him standing there and just staring at you

"that's a ridiculous question, angel. Of course I'd marry you?!?! wha-? I'm...oh my god....of course! yes! oh my god!"

takes you a long time to get him to let go of you for long enough to give him his ring

I also feel like James is the kind of person who has had your ring picked out/purchased since, like, your sixth date and if he wasn't carrying it with him, you'd be getting your own basically the moment you got home

he'd pretend to be miffed that you 'beat' him to proposing, but blushes furiously every time he looks down at his hand or thinks about it

brags to everyone who will listen that he's engaged now and this is his fiancee thank you very much

I feel like he'd mark the day you proposed as a special anniversary he begs to celebrate every year <3

[foone]

Alright, listen up:

We need to stop with the anti-rooting attitude for brainpals, alright? You're just doing mnemonocorps job for them. Cut out the discourse about people with modded brainpals, for TF's sake.

(scifi worldbuilding by way of fictional Tumblr discourse under the cut)

There's tons of valid reasons for by people would hack their brainpals! Testing new memory/skills without paying for a dev kit, piracy of skills (and do not @ me with that "but you're stealing from the original skill creator!" bullshit. All the legit skills on the market now are from people who did work for hire by mnemonocorps, and THEY ALREADY WERE PAID. It's only mnemonocorps that is losing money!), home ptsd/cptsd/jptsd treatment, the list is endless.

And before you jump into the comments, YES I KNOW PEOPLE DO SEXUAL MEMORY PLAY. People do every kind of weird shit, name me a technology that no one has used for sex in some way? Hell, the first topless photo was taken within a week of the invention of the daguerreotype. But we need to be adults here, okay? These things can be simultaneously true:

1. People do memory play

2. No kids have memorypals

3. The vast major of memory play is NOT VP.

Mnemonocorps has done a lot of work to try to keep people from using brainpals for memory pal, with their artificial limits on how much you can block at once, but that's fundamentally an over reaction to the negative press from the whole VP scandal. The news loves a juicy story like "people are using a new technology for weird sex shit" because their readers/viewers are always interested in Weird Sex Shit, either because "ooh, sexy!" or "BAN THIS FILTH" reactions.

And like all big companies, the last thing mnemonocorps wants is a new law aimed specifically at regulating them! So they stuck a bunch more restrictions on brainpals so they could say they have taken steps to prevent VP.

Now, I need you to listen to me before I say this: I am NOT saying I condone VP, alright? I'm not going like "oh but no one is hurt, everyone is (technically) adults, it's basically roleplay"? This is not an excuse for VP, alright?

Memory play is not just VP, and it's deeply insulting to everyone who engages in memory play to conflate the two!

The reasons people would do memory play are many and varied, as are the things that people do with memory play. And I think people are extra quick to jump on the "memory play is bad" bandwagon not just because of the spectre of VP, but because it's all "eww, kinky sex things".

And yes, I'm not going to try to sugarcoat memory play, alright? There's a lot of weird stuff going on there, and it definitely isn't for everyone. But the thing y'all need to keep in mind is that it's between consensual adults and they (usually*) know what they're doing, okay?

It's safe and mind healthy and consensual. (yes I know these are the same arguments the veepers use to definite VP but I'm not talking about VP here, damn it!).

People can do CNC play with mblocks. People can do roleplay with temporary personality patches, either because they're too awkward/shy/whatever to have sex or because they (or their partners) want to do some vcheating. All these are perfectly safe if done correctly and don't hurt anyone. Especially not you, who aren't even involved in their memory play!

And I promise the slippery slope argument is bullshit: even if people use mblocks to age regress, that doesn't make it VP, alright? There's plenty of people (especially us elderly trans who missed out on a gender-correct early adulthood. (I wasn't able to get genespliced until I was nearly 60!). If I want to experience how my 25-year-old self would have had sex as a girl, that's my own god damn business! And it's not VP and it hurts no one. And all these non-vp uses of memory play are completely blocked by the stock brainpal software, because of their heavy handed approach to trying to prevent VP.

But with this whole stigma against hacking brainpals means that if I ever even mention I've got mine modded, people immediately start side-eying me because they think the only reason anyone would want to hack their brainpal is VP.

No! Piracy of skills and mblocks and yes, memory play. Which isn't entirely VP, even if it keeps getting tarred with that brush.

The piracy argument you'd think would be an easier one to make. I know half of you have all the PS6 ROMs downloaded onto your tangles. How are you gonna steal half the video games on the iarchive and then turn around and say it's wrong to download fluent-Japanese or woodworking to your brainpal? Come on.

Basically my whole point is that mnemonocorps has done a great job convincing the general public to associate illicit (by their rules) brainpal use with VP, and it's solely because they know the average person (rightly, I would add) thinks VP is abhorrent. They're using that disgust to turn the general opinion against the idea of brainpal modding.

And look, look me in my eye, do you really think mnemonocorps is doing this because they genuinely think VP is bad and want the public to help them stop it by shunning people who hack their brainpals? Or is it, just maybe, because they don't want to lose trillions of n$ on skill piracy? And they're just using VP as an excuse?

It's like, come on gals. No one ever went broke assuming companies are acting out of the most basic capitalistic greed, because THEY ALWAYS ARE.

And don't get me started on the people clitriding mnemonocorps for inventing the brainpal in the first place. Look, we all love the brainpal, yes, but it's not like you owe them endless loyalty over it, okay? They can and have done wrong in the past. Accept that you can love the work and hate the company trying to control it.

(it's like: is Thomas Chellae an abusive asshole who should not be out of crimrehab? Yes of course, no question. Is Shadowed Skies the best album of the last 30 years? Also yes! It can be both! Bad people can make good things)

Anyway: end of the day, stop bringing up VP every time anything involving brainpal modding comes up. Don't judge people for modding their brainpals.

(especially since half the problem people have with memory play isn't VP, it's just y'all being antisex. Which is bullshit given how many people subscribe to those "expert oral sex" skills! You're using your brainpal to have better sex, then turning around and going "but I'd never use it for WEIRD sex!". Grow TF the fuck up!)

Also, just because I know someone would bring it up, the whole mind control thing is A MYTH. There have never been any legitimate cases of people getting hacked through their brainpals, hacked or not, okay? I mean, who knows what the nsa or uhsa can do, but no one has ever been able to demonstrate a remote hack on a brainpal. Anyone being "mind controlled" through their brainpal did it to themselves, either with a ppatch or intentionally routing their admin to someone else. "you'll get hacked and turned into a bpZombie!" is a bullshit reason to be against brainpal hacking: it simply does not happen. I used to be a rengineer, I've looked into the brainpal security: it's well done!

* Yeah, Adrian Reach was a tragic case, but it was definitely a million-to-one case. Make your backups, run the ccheck, and don't try to mblock your whole damn life on a failing bp! You'll be fine.

EDIT: I forgot to elaborate on the "no kids have brainpals" thing: yes, I know there are some kids who do have them, BUT they're not the same as regular brainpal installs. They're only done in some extreme cases of mental distress (like survivors of the cWar) and they're locked down. Only their doctor can adjust them, it's not like regular consumer brainpals where you can just fiddle with the settings themselves. So all this memory play stuff we're talking about is only between adults. REAL adults, alright? Even when people are doing VP, everyone involved is of age.

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.

Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.

Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.

Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰

ready when you are / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.

Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care

Requested?: Yes!

Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!

Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.

You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.

The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.

He's stuck on you.

You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.

Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.

You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.

You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"

"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"

"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."

His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"

"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."

"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.

You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."

"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"

Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."

"Oh... Oh."

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."

Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."

You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.

Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.

"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"

You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"

"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"

He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"

There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"

"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.

Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.

Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.

But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."

He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"

You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.

He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."

"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."

He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"

"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."

He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."

"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."

"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.

"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."

"But I do-"

"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"

"But Y/n-"

"Let's just be friends, okay?"

He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.

You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.

"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."

[universecorp]

Hearbeat pt.2 Teaser

Summary: After starting a situationship with your best friend from high school, things start to become complicated. Especially when you start to catch feelings.

Jaehyun x Reader Haechan x Reader (In pt2 and 3 )

w.c.: 2.3k

Genre: Comedy, smut, and angst

Warnings: Sexual themes, small argument

PLAYLIST: ♡

Sitting in a Dennys at 2:00 AM is not how you expected your night to end. You and Donghyuck had spent the better part of an hour talking and getting to know each other. He was easy to talk to, and funny, you didn’t feel like you were forcing any of your reactions which made you feel a lot more at ease than usual.

“Wait, you're Haechan? The streamer?” Donghyuck nodded, shoveling a scoop of hash browns into his mouth. “That’s so fucking crazy, my best friend loves your streams. We used to fuck and I remember one time he got the notification for your stream and stopped mid fuck to watch you.” Donghyuck nearly choked on the strip of bacon he was munching on.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” You shook your head. “That’s so sick, did he at least like pick up where he left off while watching?” Another shake. 

“I had to push him on his back and ride him.” Donghyuck laughed loudly, catching the attention of most of the other late night eaters, but it was clear he didn’t care. 

“Now that I think about it, there was this one time I read a comment and it deadass said ‘I was fucking my girl and stopped to watch.’ I thought it was probably a troll, but that might’ve been him.”

You scoffed, shaking your head once again. “There’s no way that was him, he would never refer to me as ‘his girl’ it would be kind of funny if that was him though.” Donghyuck hummed in agreement, it was all he could do since he didn’t even know Jaehyun. 

There was a small awkward silence filled only with the sounds of plates clinking and light chatter from the other patrons. Donghyuck looked like he was having a debate with himself befofe hr finally opened his mouth. “Look, uhm, I don’t usually do this, I honestly don’t usually take my hookups to pre-breakfast either, but I was wondering if I could get your number?” 

You were a bit shocked. You thought maybe this was normal and Donghyuck was just one of those nice guys who treated his fucks to post coiatal meals. Hearing otherwise brought a bit of heat to your cheeks. 

“So uh… is that a no? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

“Oh no, wait no, I mean yes! Yes… you can have my number.” 

“You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot lately. You and big head aren’t fucking again right?” Minjeong was doing your nails on the floor of your dorm, and you were definitely making it hard since you were texting Donghyuck with the hand she was trying to get you to dry. 

“Of course not. I’m texting a new guy, I met him at that party me and Jae went to.” Minjeong perked up at the mention of a new guy. Talks like these reminded you of being a teenager, but they were always relaxing. You seriously owed Minjeong some girl time anyway with how far up Jaehyun’s ass you had been for the past year.

“So what’s his name?”

“Donghyuck, he goes here obviously, also get this, ” Minjeong leaned in “he’s that streamer that Jae likes a lot.”

“No way!?” Minjeong gasped, she accidentally swiped a little polish on your finger, but you didn’t mind.

You nodded, smiling basically ear to ear. “Yes way, and he’s so cute. He’s telling me how he wants to take me on a date this weekend!” You closed your phone to give Minjeong your undivided attention while she swiped acetone over her previous mistake.

“I’m happy for you, I know I was kind of an ass with all the ‘I told you so’, but I really just wanted you to be with  someone who treats you for what you’re worth.” You knew that, but hearing it felt really good. You always knew Minjeong was just looking out for you, but she also knew that whatever you felt for Jaehyun wasn’t going away like magic. Even now you sometimes felt a twinge of what you used to when he did certain things, but it wasn’t as strong as it was a month ago. 

“It’s ok Minnie, I know you only had my best interest.” You brought your nails hand up to blow on the wet polish. “Look on the bright side though, I went through all that and now I've learned my lesson. No more wasting time or energy on people who don’t deserve it.” 

Minjeong jostled your shoulder, “That’s my girl.”

 A week later you were with Donghyuck in his apartment, playing a co-op game called “it takes two” that he specifically bought for the date. He turned on his twitch to stream, but he left his mic off to enjoy the moment with you. He was ticking so many boxes and even Minjeong gave him the stamp of approval when he met her a couple hours ago. Everything today was perfect, he bought you flowers, ordered from your favorite takeout place and even surprised you with slippers for you to wear around the apartment. You had been seeing each other for about a month now so you figured he would be asking you to be his girlfriend soon, but you were in no rush. His gestures meant the world to you and even then just his presence was enough for you to feel satisfied. 

Now the two of you were snuggled up side by side, controllers in hand and your head on his shoulder. Nothing could ruin this moment, nothing except your phone which had been buzzing on the nightstand for a good two minutes. “Hey babe, I can pause if you wanna get that?” You looked up at Donghyuck with a small pout before shaking your head. You felt bad that whoever was calling you clearly didn’t get the memo that you were busy. 

“We can keep playing, I’ll talk and play, m’sorry.” Donghyuck waved it off as he waited for you to answer your phone. You rolled your eyes slightly when you saw Jaehyun’s photo, but still answered the facetime call. “What’s up loser?” You sounded less than enthused, but he should’ve expected that since you ignored his calls for two minutes. 

“God what crawled up your ass and died weirdo and why aren’t you showing your face?” Jaehyun scoffed as if his facetime screen wasn’t paused.

“Just the fact that you’ve been calling me for two minutes. What the fuck did you want? I’m kinda busy.” You cursed under your breath since you and Donghyuck failed the game stage for the fifth time. 

“First of all, I wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner and come watch a movie, I’ll buy obviously. Second of all, if you’re gonna lie about being busy at least make it believable, I can hear you playing a game in the background.” Jaehyun had some fucking nerve assuming you would lie to him about being busy, but you weren’t gonna fight about it. You were gonna be civil. Even though Donghyuck had heard the way you and Jaehyun talked to each other before, he was a little annoyed that the other man was accusing you of lying. 

“Jae, I’m on a date and we’re playing a game, so I actually am very busy. 

“Wait… are you playing ‘it takes two’?” Jaehyun didn’t know about Donghyuck. He knew you had been on dates, but since he didn’t ask who with, you didn’t bother telling him it was Donghyuck A.K.A. his favorite streamer. 

“Yeah, with my date.” You knew you sounded like a bitch, but you didn’t care. Jaehyun had barely been hanging out with you and even then it seemed like he only wanted to when he was bored. You were trying to follow Minjeong’s and your own advice and stop wasting time on people that don’t deserve it.

“If you’re actually playing a game with your date, show your face and his, then show the tv.” You were so close to hanging up on Jaehyun, but when you saw the screen pause and suddenly your phone was being held up by Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck didn’t look happy. All of the irritation must have been building up to a point where even Jaehyun looked concerned. “Look, Jaehyun, I get it, you’re bored. I’m sure you miss having Y/N at your beck and call because you knew she would drop anything for you before.” Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, but one glare from Donghyuck had him closing it immediately. “Those times are past and whatever sick game you’re playing at needs to stop. Got it?” The silence on the line was loud, Donghyuck knew he made his point. “Good. Now I’m going to go back to playing games with my girlfriend, enjoy the stream Jaehyun.” With that he pressed the end call button with a sigh and immediately after you were straddling the man.

“Girlfriend huh?” 

Donghyuck set his controller down and placed his hands on your hips, it was all he could do to look cool despite the blush rushing his face. “Yeah uhm… I was going to ask you later during pillow talk after some earth shattering sex, but this is cool too I guess.” 

You giggled, placing a kiss on his cheek. “This is cool too, don’t worry. We can still have earth shattering sex but now as boyfriend and girlfriend.” It was Donghyuck’s turn to giggle now. “Do you want to keep playing, we could even turn on the mic?” 

Haechan shook his head, “No I think it’s time for that earth shattering sex we were talking about.” You bit your lip trying to suppress a laugh, he was so goofy and hot at the same time, you didn’t understand how anyone could be capable of that. 

“I think that can be arranged…boyfriend.”

“He told you off?” Mark nearly yelled, catching the attention of several of the other students in the library. 

“Dude keep it down, we’re in a library.” Johnny reminded before focusing back on his music theory assignment. 

“Sorry, he told you off?” Mark asked again this time in a more suitable whisper.

“Yes, and she didn’t say shit bro, she just let him.” Jaehyun grumbled, taking a chip from the bag Johnny had managed to smuggle in. 

Johnny was pretty unamused with the entire situation, given that he asked if the two men wanted to study in the library, but had basically been talking the whole time. “Have you ever thought that maybe she’s over how you treat her. I know you think you’re like bestie of the year, but you literally evaded her feelings for at least 6 months just so you would have an easy fuck.” 

Jaehyun scoffed, “Remind me to stop telling you about my problems.” Johnny simply rolled his eyes before training them back on the score in front of him. 

“I mean he has a point. You knew she caught feelings a while ago, and your agreement was to break it off, but you kept everything up. Plus you were the one who kept fucking with her and being all domestic, she’s probably traumatized.” Jaehyun shot a glare at Mark; he did not come here to be ganged up on.

“She can’t be but so traumatized since she spends all her time with Haechan, or Donghyuck, whatever the fuck his name is.” Mark and Johnny looked ready to hit their heads against the table, but clearly this was a delicate situation that needed to be nurtured and cared for so that Jaehyun would actually get some sense.

“Jae, buddy, pal, old friend if you will.”

“Get to the point Johnathan.” 

Johnny sighed, “See the point is, she’s in a relationship now. You had your 15 minutes of fame where she basically avoided getting into something because she was holding out hope for you. Now, she’s tired of waiting. She wants something that makes her feel loved and worth it and frankly, your bare minimum effort of taking her back to your place to watch a movie and then fuck, isn’t cutting it.”

“Bars.” Mark fist bumped Johnny, adding an explosion sound effect at the end.

“You guys are losers. She didn’t seem to be complaining about the movie and fuck a couple months ago.” Mark cringed and Johnny simply shook his head at the way their friend could so shamelessly talk about you like that.

“Jaehyun, listen to yourself, you sound delusional. She may not have been complaining, but that’s also because if she did you would’ve had to break all of that off. You’re acting like she broke up with you when the two of you weren’t even together in the first place.” Johnny’s volume was starting to increase, but he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t the closest to you, but he refused to let Jaehyun disrespect you like this. “Also you literally only text or call her now when we can’t hang out. Do you think that makes her feel good?” Jaehyun opened his mouth, but Johnny cut him off. “Don’t answer that because I know you’re about to say some bullshit. You need to get with the program and stop treating her like some play thing that you decide to pick up everytime your other toys are broken!” Johnny finished closing his laptop and packing up his belongings. 

“Dude, where are you going?” Jaehyun groaned before looking at Mark who was following in Johnny’s actions. “You too? Come on!”

Mark just shook his head, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before speaking again. “Dude, you have some serious soul searching to do. We don’t mind if you vent, but the way you talk about and treat her is sick.” Jaehyun just clicked his teeth in response to the younger man. 

“Whatever.” Jaehyun stood up from the table and stormed out of the library.

“He needs to get laid.” 

“Totally.” Mark agreed.

Taglist: @snapcracklen, @peachesmilk

[chlorinecake]

Love On A Leash | 심재윤 𓇢𓆸

summary • You offer to dog-sit Jake’s energetic pet border collie as a means to get closer to him. But how will he react when he finds out you forgot to feed her while he was gone?

pairing • next door neighbor!jake x reader • word count • 3.6k genre next door neighbor au, fluff • warnings language, jake and reader have a minor argument, suggestive themes, kissing

YOU FELT LIKE cursing your mother for making you do this.

It was currently 7am as you stood outside your next door neighbor’s front porch with a basket of assorted muffins in hand. The gesture was supposed to be a housewarming gift on behalf of your 'humble community,' your mother tasking you with delivering the treats while she got ready for work although she was already running late.

Your dilemma had nothing to do with her act of kindness, but everything to do with the very moment your dangerously lovesick eyes landed on your new neighbor, Sim Jake.

It goes without saying that he was good-looking, and attractive guys were no more to you than kryptonite is to superman; a crippling weakness. You were already whipped for Jake as is, creating a file filled with all of the things you either learned or observed about him over the past two weeks.

You hadn't even been standing at his porch for 15 seconds before your feet struggled to stay put, tempted to abandon ship and just tell your mom that no one was home.

Maybe he won't even answer, you tried comforting yourself.

What kind of a 20 year old guy would be up this early, anyways?

The door knob twisted as a muffled yawn met your ears, the door creaking open to reveal none other than Jake himself.

He was dressed in his pajamas, sporting a severe case of bedhead that he somehow pulled off.

“Hello?” He said with a groggy yet friendly accent.

“Hi! I’m your next door neighbor's daughter, ____. Here's a welcoming gift from our family to yours,” you forced a smile, handing him the basket.

“Wow, this is really sweet of you guys,” he thanked with a toothy smile, but you stood awkwardly.

“My name is Jake, by the way," he said while giving you a handshake, trying to break the tense physical barrier.

"Glad we could finally meet," you returned, "My mom talks about your family all the time. All good things, of course."

“Yeah, apparently she and my dad knew each other in high school… but now I’m curious. How much do you know?”

“Well, I know you’re from Brisbane and recently moved here for college! Oh, and you’re a huge dog lover, especially of golden retriever’s, like the one you have? Hmm, aren’t you an athlete? I think I’ve seen you in a tracksuit befo-”

“Those are all things about me, silly, not my family,” he giggled, running a hand through his locks.

Buzz.

Jake set the basket down on the table behind him, reaching in his pocket to analyze whatever just popped up on his phone screen. You wondered if he had a girlfr-

"Hm," he hummed, taking a step back into his house.

"I should get going now. Thanks again for the gift! I hope to see you around more often.”

“Well, its not like we can really avoid each other, anyways,” you said, drawing his attention to the brief distance between your two houses.

He blushed at the realization, "Give me a break, ____, I’m not usually up this early. And for the record, Layla’s a border collie!" He exclaimed before closing the door.

Updated Mental Note: (1) Jake’s dad knew your mom in high school, (2) Jake isn’t a morning person, (3) Jake’s dog is a border collie [confirmed].

Surprisingly, that interaction wasn't nearly as painful as you expected it to be.

Jake was chill.

Attractive, yes, but somehow, you survived. Trailing back from his porch to your house, you walked inside to find your mother fastening a pair of heels around her ankles before standing up to meet you. “How do I look? Is my hair okay? Wait, tell me, what did they say about the muffins?”

“You look great, mom! And their son answered, but he said he really appreciated it.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “Alright, sweetie! Duty calls! I’ll see you at dinner!”

“See ya,” you waved before closing the door.

JAKE’S DAD HAD started giving him a hard time concerning the dog. After summer, Jake was busy most of the time with soccer practice and school, and so with two working parents, it was hard to keep up with Layla’s random outbursts.

“You either find someone to watch her or she’s going to the pound!” His dad scowled while picking up a few pillows that Layla chewed holes into. “She’s been with us for years, and even now after the move, Dad! We can’t just give her up for acting like a dog! She’s getting used to this change, too,” Jake argued back while sweeping up a pile of kibble she knocked over.

“I hear what you’re saying, but make sure you consider what I’ve said. I’m not sure how much longer your mother and I can take this.”

A few minutes after their conversation, Jake decided to go and play catch with Layla in the front yard.

“Come here girl, come here! Stop? Sit? Good doggy,” he praised, ruffling the fur on her back before giving her a treat. You were walking home from the bus stop when Jake pointed to one of the tennis balls Layla forget to fetch which you ended up tripping over, the books you were carrying now joining you on the pavement.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay!?” Jake said running over to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you spoke for your physical being as emotionally, you were an embarrassed wreck.

He helped you gather your textbooks and journals, “You’ll probably wanna put these in here.” He smiled, handing you the bag he used to carry Layla’s outdoor toys.

“No really, it’s alright, Jake. I should’ve brought my backpack with me.”

“No, I insist. Think if it as payment for the muffins,” he encouraged, neatly putting the books in the bag before tying it closed. Layla was busy bouncing around the two of you, trying to get Jake’s attention. A glint of playfulness sparkled in his eyes.

“Wanna try throwing the ball?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Last time I tried something like that, I ended up having to replace a few things I could hardly afford.” Jake laughed at your honesty, taking your hand in his before closing your fingers around the ball. “Just give it a shot. Prove me wrong,” he winked.

You looked down bashfully, giving in while warming up your shoulders, “You might wanna stand back a bit unless you like getting hit in the balls.”

He giggled again, walking back a few steps, “You’re being too hard on yourself, silly! Just throw it!”

Taking a deep breath, you launched the tennis ball an impressive distance away from you, the excited cream dog chasing after it. “Holy shit! You’ve got the arm of a pro, ____!” Jake exclaimed, giving you a high five.

“Now, when she comes back, you give her this treat.” “With my hand?” “Of course! Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite the hand that feeds her.”

In a matter of seconds, Layla was already running back to you, dropping the drool-covered ball from her mouth before eating the dog biscuits from your hand, the texture of her tongue tickling your palm. “Good girl,” Jake chirped as he met you and Layla on the ground.

“How’d you come up with her name?”

“Layla? Hmm. I’ve never had someone ask me that before,” he admitted, moving to sit crisscross applesauce. “Let’s see… when I was a kid, my inspiration was pretty corny.”

“Corny can be cute sometimes,” you smiled.

“Well, when my family adopted her, she didn’t have a name yet. One of my favorite songs back then was Eric Clapton’s “Layla,” so I figured that’s what she’d be called.”

“Aww! That’s adorable!”

“You probably think everything I do is adorable.”

It was like a cat caught your tongue, leaving you speechless at his comment.

“Kidding,” he smiled, nudging your shoulder before a sad look waved over his features.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “It’s my dad. He wants me to get rid of Layla.”

“But why? Isn’t she like family to you?”

“That’s exactly what I told him! But he thinks she’s only become a burden now that I’m not around as much,” he frowned, watching Layla chase herself around a tree. “The pound’s not a place for a dog like Layla.”

You sat in thought, thinking of ways to comfort Jake that didn’t involve touching him. Then it hit you.

“I can dog-sit her for you.”

His eyes widened in shock at your offer, resembling a cute puppy, “You'd seriously do that for me? Do you have experience?”

“Obviously,” you scoffed dishonestly, “look how comfortable we are with each other. I’m a natural at this.”

“Wow, I really appreciate this. I’ll pay you fifteen dollars per hour starting tomorrow from 11am to 3pm, and then-“

“Jake, I don’t want your money," you giggled, not even realizing that your hand rested on his exposed thigh, "I just wanna help.”

He smiled, “Okay, then. But if you ever feel like backing out, don't hesitate to let me know! Trust me, I won't be disappointed, Layla can be a handful.”

“Gotchya,” you replied, tossing another tennis ball for his dog to fetch, “How should I contact you?”

“Uhhh, I’ll just give you my phone number. Do you have a pen with you?”

“Yeah, right here,” you said, handing him the pen from your pocket.

Jake wrote his number on your wrist. “Perfect,” he chirped, rubbing a thumb over the writings.

“I’ll text you my schedule and everything once I hear from you again, see you around, neighbor!”

“See you!” You returned, both of you going back to your respective houses, the bliss of each other still fresh on your faces.

TO YOUR LUCK, your first day as a dog-sitter was going swimmingly well so far. Jake outlined a simple list of things for you to follow while he was away, tasks ranging from dog-walks to bathroom breaks making up most of the next few hours of your day.

Before Jake left, all you could remember was him saying something about a bag of dog food either in the fridge or pantry, but you were too distracted by the grey sweatpants he wore to successfully pay attention. So, you improvised by intuition.

What would I eat if I was a dog, you asked yourself, searching for any cooked proteins in Jake's fridge, only to find a pack of bacon bits.

Hmm, this could work.

Layla was waiting for her meal patiently by her empty feeding bowl as you moved to explore the pantry, pulling out a few marshmallows and graham crackers to add to the mix. Pouring the contents into her bowl, you gave her a few head scratches before she dove in, munching up every last bite.

"Looks like I've created a culinary masterpiece," you smiled, "I'll call it "____'s Canine Trail Mix," approved by the likes of Sim Layla and many more."

JAKE SHOWED UP about twenty minutes later, greeting you before asking about Layla.

"Everything went great," you beamed, taking him to the couch she laid tiredly on.

“What’s wrong with her? Did she just wake up from a nap?”

“I don't know, I just got out of the bathroom.”

“Did you walk her?”

“Of course, for two hours like you said.”

“Hmm. Did she play with her toys at all?”

“A little bit, but she didn’t seem interested after eating."

“Maybe you gave her too much food. How many scoops of kibble did she get?”

“What?" You asked, initially confused at the mentioning of kibble until you remembered what Jake was trying to tell you before he left: Layla gets 2 scoops of kibble for lunch with a few sausages from the fridge.

“How much food did you give Layla?” He repeated.

“Jake.”

“What?”

“I forgot to feed her.”

His jaw dropped, “You’re joking.”

"Well, I did feed her, but I forgot about the kibble. I gave her a bowl of bacon bits, graham crackers, and marshmallows instead."

Jake paced back and forth, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "What kind of a person with 'dog experience' decides to feed them marshmallows of all things? A whole ass bowl full?”

"I'm not following," you admitted timidly.

"Connect the dots, would ya?" He spat, trying to control his breathing.

"How was I supposed to know dogs can’t eat marshmallows?"

"Dog's don't eat common human foods, ____, that’s a no-brainer! I thought you said you had experience with this kind of thing," he frowned, meeting Layla on the couch to comfort her aching state.

You kept your distance from him, "I lied to you, Jake. I’m an amateur when it comes to this stuff."

He scoffed disappointedly, "Why would you lie about something like that, ____?"

"I- I just…I wanted to help you! You seemed really upset about the whole thing with your dad and I- it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

"Well, for future reference, lying never helps."

You swallowed the dryness that grew in your throat, "I’m really sorry, Jake. Is there anything that I can do to help? Maybe get her some medicine?"

"No, ____, you’ve done enough already. I’ll see you around."

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you simply grabbed your things and walked towards the door, the sounds of Layla's guttural wrenching making you cringe in shame and disgust.

Updated mental note: (1) Dogs can’t eat marshmallows, (2) Lying never fixes situations, (3) Jake probably hates you now [pending confirmation]

IT WAS A few days after the dog-sitting situation when you were studying on your front lawn, completely mesmerized by the view of Jake as he worked out in his garage. You felt guilty for ogling after everything that happened, but you couldn't fight your hormonally induced urges.

He was pushing out his third set of bench presses, fluffy brown hair framing his cheekbones. He screwed his eyes shut from the intensity, biting his lower lip as he tried to push through the resistance of his fatigue arms.

He glanced over quickly as sweat started to drip in his eyes. You stared back at him like a deer in the headlights at the realization that you’d been caught peeking. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, struggling to handle the weight. “__-____?!” He stuttered your name breathlessly, losing his grip. “JAKE!”

You ran faster than your legs have ever carried you, adrenaline kicking in as you slid the left weight off of the rod, jumping onto his lap to avoid the iron disc from smashing your foot. “Ugh,” he groaned in relief as you reached to slide the other weight off, unintentionally pressing yourself into him.

That sound might replay in your mind forever.

Gripping the rod in your hand, you looked down to see both your own and Jake’s veiny hands holding onto the pole for dear life. Then you looked down, realizing that you were sitting straight on his bulge.

“Oh my God, sorry!” You yelped, leaping off of his sweaty frame. He giggled at your apology, feeling embarrassed himself but for different reasons.

“It’s alright, ____, you probably just saved my life there,” he said, now sitting up on the bench. He gave you a look before continuing. “Why were you stalking me?”

“Me? I-“

“I’m not upset, or anything. Did you wanna tell me something?”

“No, I was just… I didn’t mean to-"

Layla's barking from inside the house cut you off mid sentence. You were just now noticing the pink paint stains on his shirt, a few drops decorating the private area of his sweatpants.

Similarly to a puppy, Jake forgot all about what you were just talking about, getting up to fix the equipment. “You’re really fast, y’know? What other secret athletic talents do you have?”

You smiled awkwardly, “Well, if you ever tried tickling me, I might become a professional kickboxer.”

Jake laughed at your joke like he always did. You swore that if he blessed your ears with his beautiful laugh one more time, you might explode.

“Maybe you should spot me sometime,” he said, fastening the ring weight back on the rod.

Your eyes fell to the paint stains on his paints. “I’m sorry?”

“Spot me. Like when I’m weightlifting. You seem pretty keen to watching out for me, anyways.”

You could feel heat rushing through every part of your body. “Of course, anything for a neighbor,” you smiled, trying to redirect his flirting for the sake of your own existence.

Layla barked even louder this time, Jake sighing before heading to his garage door. For some reason you followed him, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m washing white clothes, so if you have anything light colored on, throw it in the machine,” Jake’s mom yelled from the kitchen at the sound of him entering the house.

“Alright,” he called back, taking off his sweaty white t-shirt and tossing it into the washer. He reached over to press a few buttons on the machine, the muscles in his arm flexing with each movement. He trailed from the washroom, you still following closely behind.

“It’s a maze in here,” you said, marveling at how big his house was.

“I feel the same way sometimes,” he giggled, taking your hand in his to guide you. 

You just remembered that he came in here to look for Layla, so you listened out, trying to help him find her.

“Oh,” you said, stopping Jake in his tracks as you pointed to a four legged shadow running around underneath a closed door, “she’s right here.”

He turned, “What? How’d she get in my bedroom?” Jake walked towards the door, twisting the handle to reveal Layla chasing her tail in a circle.

“You’re so silly, Layla,” he smiled, running a hand through her thick blonde fur. “She’s doing such much better now,” you commented, meeting Jake and his dog on the floor.

“Yeah, she was totally fine after getting that stuff out of her system. Don't worry, though, she told me she forgives you," he smiled.

"And what about you?"

"Of course, ____. I don't think I could over hold a grudge against you."

Layla hopped on your lap, licking at your hands. You would’ve been grossed out if it wasn’t Jake’s dog. Her tongue tickled your palms as she panted in excitement, “I wish I had this much energy on a daily basis,” you beamed, Jake returning a grin himself.

“I think she just really likes you,” he replied. “With all of those kisses, you must taste pretty nice.”

“Maybe you’ll have to try sometime,” you said, not even realizing how suggestive your comment was. Jake grabbed a random tennis ball from the floor before tossing it out of the room, “Go fetch,” he ordered, Layla chasing after the ball.

A sparkle twinkled in his eye before he lead your face towards his by your chin. He noticed that you looked nervous, but decided to take his chances and kiss you anyway, all of your nerves melting away at the softness of his lips. You felt his hand grip at the side of your neck, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Kicking your foot, you closed the door slightly, falling on your back for him to take the lead. His lips broke from yours with a pop as your cold hands snuck around his bare waist. He hummed at the feeling, leaning in to kiss down your neck.

His breath was so hot against your skin, sweet sounds escaping your mouth from all the action. That’s when you two heard Layla trailing back to his room, returning to the positions you were sat in before Layla left. She barged through the door, slobbery tennis ball between her jaws as she dropped before Jake. “Good girl,” he cheered, fluffing at her fur.

You felt the aftermath of your kiss like a wave, exhausting yet refreshing.

You felt Jake.

His kiss was like water, crashing and roaring, yet emotional and gentle. You couldn’t tell, but he still felt a wave that hit him, too.

He felt you.

Your hands modest and shy, yet your lips eager and passionate. 

Layla barked for what sounded like her loudest one thus far. “I’ve gotta go walk Layla,” Jake said, sounding happy yet simultaneously like he’d rather be doing something else. Fastening a leash around Layla's collar, he trailed out of his room. You reached on his dresser and grabbed a shirt for him to wear on his way out.

His mom was no longer in the kitchen, but you decided to be polite anyways. “Bye, Mrs. Sim!” You could hear her returning the salutation from some part of the maze-like house, making your heart feel warm. Jake walked through garage and stopped at the driveway, having locked all the doors before exiting the house.

“Thanks for stopping by, ____,” he smiled, flashing you a look so intense, you might fall over. “Anytime,” you returned, handing him the shirt you’d been carrying. You don’t know when it happened, but you didn’t feel awkward in front of his shirtless frame anymore. “Aww,” he giggled, “I didn’t even realize I was still shirtless.”

He was so puppy-like that you couldn't help but adore him. Layla starting running, Jake loosing grip of her leash while distracted by you. “Layla!” He called after her before running to catch up himself.

“I gotta go now. Bye, ____!” He yelled as he ran after his excited dog. “Bye, Jake,” you called out while waving, even though he didn’t see you.

You walked back to your house, talking your shoes off at the front door before heading upstairs to your bedroom. You knew you didn’t wanna leave Jake's side yet, but you had other things to work on at home in the meantime.

Things like sharing with your diary that you and Sim Jake just kissed.

𐂯‎ This piece was created to mark TODAY, my official first month on as a Tumblr creator!!!! Thank you all so much for reading this piece! Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it :3

𐂯 Feel free to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

𐂯‎ Taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @yngwife @sussyjake @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @stinkoscope @03sunoos @4imhry @rickysblkgf

[mamawasatesttube]

a tuppence for your bi4bi Clois thoughts 🪙... I'm luv them so much and I'd love to hear if you have any specific headcanons about them 🥺

YESSSS!!! i DO have some thoughts. i love them,

generally i think lois has her bisexuality figured out by the time she's in her mid-20s. she and cat grant have had some rage-filled makeouts on at least one occasion, but an actual relationship would never in a million years work out between them. they respect each other but do not see eye to eye nearly enough. she never bothered to come out to her father, but just knows it's one more thing about her that he'd hate.

clark, by contrast, does Not have it figured out. he has spent his entire life repressing every single thought, feeling, and ability that set him apart from the classic good all-american boy because he had to fit in. and being superman, exploring his kryptonian heritage, etc., has helped, of course, but he is still. so repressed. he has no idea that he's ever experienced attraction to guys before. he's got some internalized homophobia to work through, about himself. He Has To Be Normal. so as far as he's concerned, there was lana, and then there was lois.

to me, clark's journey toward self-acceptance is very intrinsically tied to his family. there's kara, talking about how sexuality and gender stuff on krypton wasn't like it is on earth, especially in western culture. there's kon, suffering through his own repression and depression and trying to pretend he's fine. there's chris and jon, both too young to fully grasp it all (probably), who make clark incredibly aware of every step he makes in terms of parenting them.

so one day, after kon's finally come out to the family, and kara's muddled through trying to figure out earth labels that she's comfortable with, the two of them decide they wanna go to pride, and ask lois and clark if they want to make it a family affair. lois says hell yeah, and clark says yes of course he's happy to support them! and jon says YAY, GLITTER!! CAN I GET STICKERS? and chris says if you get glitter all over my nintendo ds again i will punt you into the ocean, baby brother or not.

and there's just this innocuous moment while they're out when kon goes "here i got you these!" and hands lois and clark two simple lil heart-shaped bi flag buttons. and lois is like aw thanks squirt! and ruffles kon's hair. clark meanwhile goes oh i think there's been a misunderstanding... ... . . . .. . .. .. . or. has there?

and that night he's just sitting on the edge of the bed holding this tiny like $3 button in his hands having a whole crisis. lois hooks her chin over his shoulder and asks what's wrong? and he's like. lois i'm not. i'm. except maybe i'm not not. but i don't know, i thought i... i never thought i could think about it. clark kent is supposed to be normal. i... i'm already an alien, lois, i thought i was already set apart enough, and if i'm... if i'm this, even when i'm clark, not superman, then... then...

and lois digs her matching little $3 bi flag heart button out of her purse and bumps it against his and says, even if you are queer, you're still not alone. and then clark gives her the patented kent family big soft puppy-dog eyes. that night, he falls asleep in her arms with his head tucked snugly under her chin. it's where he feels safest.

but the next year, he lets kara get him a flag, and lets kon tie it around his shoulders like a cape. and he's here as clark kent, but it's kind of funny when he looks at his shadow. because he might not be superman right now, but the silhouette still looks the same.

[nhasablogg]

would you make my year and write a fic with Captain Kirk tickling Mr. Spock? I love their ship and seeing Spock flustered :3

800 words for you :)

Jim didn’t understand it at first because Spock never once broke eye contact. In retrospect maybe that was the first clue; a persistent burning gaze so unlike the collective human reaction to something so delicate. But Spock wasn’t fully human, and so Jim didn’t immediately decipher the meaning behind it. Didn’t understand what value it carried.

“Do you want me to stop?” He aimed to tease but felt uncertain, and so the words came out as a genuine question.

Spock didn’t respond, merely blinked, the first time any of his features really moved. It hadn’t surprised him that he remained entirely still beneath him, as if calculating the situation, wondering if Jim would actually take it as far as he said.

“I-” Jim sat up straighter when Spock’s voice broke, knees on either side of his hips, a weak attempt at keeping him in place even though he knew Spock could throw him off easily if he wanted. The fact that he didn’t was probably the second clue, had Jim been counting.

He tilted his head, moved his hands off of Spock’s chest. “Spock?”

“I do not,” he said, voice steady as if there had never been any hesitation and Jim had imagined it. His eyes still on Jim, keeping their gazes glued together. He felt himself flush, always so human in his own emotions. Always so unsubtle.

“Oh.” Why Jim was the flustered one was beyond him, but maybe this was the third clue. Nerves very rarely came alone. Usually something about the other always accompanied them, and Jim would be a fool to say there was no tension in that room.

Spock blinked again, the second time he interrupted their locked gazes. “I reckon that is not common.”

Jim felt himself smile. “Well, it depends on who you ask. But I get it.” He placed his palms flat against Spock’s chest. “It’s kind of appealing, giving up control like this. To some, at least.”

“Not to you?”

Jim shook his head. “We’re talking about you here. Tell me.” He leaned closer, hands moving down. “You don’t want me to stop.”

“I do not.”

“Which means you want me to tickle you, right?”

Spock betrayed his timidness distinctly for the first time now. Gaze flickering. Cheeks reddening. “I do.”

And suddenly Jim understood. Understood the stillness and the forced eye contact. Attempts at keeping himself in the moment. Attempts at not letting his human emotions win.

“It’s okay, you know.” He leaned even closer and let their foreheads bump together. “To want it. To let yourself want it.”

Spock’s breath hitched - delicious, dizzying - but he let Jim’s fingers find his hip bones without protest. Jim could imagine the way his nerve endings were short circuiting. All anticipation, all a battle of control. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that letting go didn’t take control of its own. The only time Spock allowed Jim to take the upper hand was in the bedroom. This was new territory. They were on the bed, they were intimate, but this was different. This was silly.

Spock was rarely silly, only with him. Jim suddenly felt like crying.

Clearing his throat, he pressed his fingers into the skin; not enough to tickle, but enough to ask a question. “May I?”

Spock wasted no time when he said, “Yes. Always.”

Jim squeezed. He didn’t expect Spock to laugh immediately, but he did expect him to squirm, even to buck, but he merely stiffened, as if unsure of how to react. Jim would’ve found it adorable had he not been too focused on how fucking hot it was to be in this position. As he squeezed again, he saw Spock unravel all the more. From the way he now gripped onto the sheets, to the way he nearly smiled. Jim could imagine it, how a few squeezes from now, maybe to his sides or thighs, would have Spock giggling, the tip of his ears reddening, until he wouldn’t be able to look Jim in the eyes anymore.

But Jim, being absolutely captivated by this new flustered Spock, decided to take his time. Spock would giggle either way, he realized when he later went for his belly. Spock would squirm and twitch and refuse to admit to being ticklish, he realized when he went for his neck and ribs at the same time. And Jim would never forgive himself if he went too quickly. This was meant to be dragged out. This was meant to be an exploration.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said, and Spock opened his mouth to respond just as Jim dove in, mouth on skin, and all that came out was laughter.

[1d1195]

Zipper Extra IV

You can read the rest here: Zipper

@harrybabyyyyyyy gave me most of the inspiration on this one. Thank you so much <3 :)

In 7th grade, I learned about dramatic irony and I haven't gotten over it since. So please enjoy a bit of angst (Harry is an idiot, obvi) in the form of Harry once more not communicating his feelings, and a big bit of fluff. Hopefully you'll enjoy. Takes place sometime after the Zipper Extra I, maybe even after a year of dating.

He stood where he was, arm resting on the window as he leaned against it. He took a deep breath, his heart already aching with the feeling that he majorly fucked up and it was exactly the kind of thing she would leave him for. “Yes,” he murmured. There was no use denying it. No use in trying to apologize right now. It was dumb and he needed to own it.

“Harry!” Louis said quietly in the middle of a meeting. He slid his phone across the table to him and Harry was engrossed in taking notes on the information being given that he didn’t pay any mind to Louis or his phone. “Harry,” he snapped without drawing attention of everyone else.

Shaking his head, he looked at Louis with a curious albeit annoyed expression. “What?” He grumbled to his friend and boss. The team of people involved and their accompanying client accumulated to seven total people in the room. Two of which were still talking, disregarding the exchange between Harry and Louis. “M’in the middle of something.”

“For Christ’s sake. Look at the goddamn, phone,” he hissed under his breath.

Sighing, Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed it, noting who it was from partway through reading.

Hey...I know I said that I had Harry to help me if I needed it, but he’s in a meeting and he tends to get really involved with what he’s doing so he probably isn’t noticing my calls...HE is in the file room... and he hasn’t seen me yet but I’m literally hiding behind a shelf and I’m...I’m so uncomfortable. I’m so sorry Louis. I really hate to bother you...could you come here?

Without recognizing or feeling his own movements, Harry was out of the conference room. In fact, Harry only read to the part where HE was in the file room. He vaguely heard Louis’ making an excuse. But Harry was sprinting down the stairs to the room where old cases were stored. Nearly pushed someone into the wall and almost tripped on the last few steps.

Just as he approached the file-room door, he took a deep breath and calmed himself before walking in as casually as he could possibly seem. He made eye contact with the man that he wanted to murder not so long ago. If pressed in anyway, Harry still would. Harry didn’t utter a word. His face was as stoic as he could manage. He didn’t want him to know she was in there. Fortunately, he nodded awkwardly at Harry thinking about their last interaction as well, it seemed. Almost immediately after the thought entered his mind, he left the room.

“Love?” Harry whispered quietly the moment the door shut.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed with relief. Harry followed the sound of her voice to the correct shelf. Her pulse rate settled in hearing Harry call out to her. She crouched and her heels allowed her to perch above the tile floor. She put her hands over her face. “I had to text Louis,” she whispered. Harry knelt beside her and placed a hand on her back.

“M’so very sorry, baby,” he cooed and leaned forward to kiss her hair. “I should have paid attention to my phone.”

She shook her head. “It’s hard, I don’t want to text you or email you during the day and have people get all in a twist...not that it’s bad what we’re doing it’s...I know they’ll think I’m doing it for—"

“No,” he shook his head. “Kitten, next time y’can scream for me. I’ll come running,” he murmured and brought her back to standing so he could hold her close to his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Harry smelled like a campfire and vanilla. It was dizzying. But it smelled like her own personal sanctuary.

“I know I overreacted—”

“No, kitten. Course y’didn’t. Shh,” he hummed softly.

She sighed again and just continued to breathe in the heady scent of Harry. “I thought it was going to be Louis that came...I’m so happy it’s you,” she mumbled into the jacket of his suit. Harry sighed, feeling overwhelmed with how much he adored her and the relief that she was okay. “You really can’t murder someone for me. Even I would have a hard time defending you in court,” she reminded him.

He smiled; his face pressed against her hair. He inhaled the floral scent and thought about the shampoo he bought so she always had some at his place. After a moment he shook his head in answer to her rebuttal. Part of him was reminded that even though he spent the better part of two decades being cold toward her, he was glad she read his thoughts so much of the time. “I’d gladly serve any sentence on behalf of you, kitten.”

*

Harry’s apartment was marginally closer to work than hers in distance. Work split their places almost in half, hers being slightly further away. “We should leave clothes at each other’s places,” she suggested as she searched through Harry’s dresser for something that wouldn’t drown her in fabric while she walked around his place. Harry leaned against the door frame smiling at her while she went through his clothes.

We should just move in together. I’ve known you my whole life.

She glanced at him and blushed. “I think we have to have some semblance of normalcy to this relationship, Harry. Don’t want to move in just yet.”

“Well, if y’sure. Seems silly. Since y’jus’ read m’mind and all,” he rolled his eyes.

“You also hated me for the better part of twenty years, and I don’t want to bring those feelings back because I leave hair in the shower drain.” Harry loved the idea of her in his shower that he didn’t even feel the need to comment on the fact that he didn’t hate her. “Stop thinking about the shower.”

He didn’t even question it. “Don’t even think we’d have t’talk if y’moved in, love. Y’seem t’know m’every thought.”

“I just know you’re thinking about the shower because you’re a boy. Not because you’re Harry.” He knelt to the floor behind her and wrapped his arms around her resting his head on the back of her shoulder. He was so much taller than her it was a slightly awkward position. “Maybe you should state your case or something,” she said finding a T-shirt suitable enough to go with a pair of his shorts.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes at her. “If s’what it takes,” he murmured against her back.

*

They ate lunch together in Harry’s office most days. People tended to bother her more because she was so adorably sweet. Harry was often closed off and very intimidating without meaning to be. At least to people who weren’t her. So, it made more sense to hide in his office.

They didn’t talk much during lunch. Not about anything world-changing or life-altering, anyway. Chatting about their days and their upcoming schedules was mainly it. Occasionally, they’d turn it into a working lunch because Harry would be stuck with something in his case, and he would ask her and of course she almost always had a solution.

“How come y’never need help from me?” He frowned. “M’always bothering you.”

“I’m just smarter than you,” she shrugged and smiled at him.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re smart, alright.”

“Harry you’re brilliant,” she said knowingly. “I just really like the finer details.” Harry watched her eat for a few moments thinking about how rude he had been to her for years and now she was eating in his office. Saying he was brilliant after the way he treated her. She enjoyed kissing him. They had slept in the same bed. It was surreal. “What are you thinking about there, baby?” She asked quietly. He looked at the food on his desk and smirked before looking back up at her.

“You love me?” That was one of the most shocking things of all.

She smiled. “Against all better judgment.”

“S’an understatement,” he muttered.

“You can’t have this complex, cupcake. You apologized profusely and I accepted it,” she shrugged. “I don’t want you dwelling on it.”

“You were so nice t’me...all those years.”

“You were pretty nice to me too...considering you hated me.”

Harry found that when he ‘hated’ her or when he loved her, a great deal of his time with her was spent rolling his eyes at her for one reason or another.  “I didn’t hate you.”

“You did not like me.”

He sighed. “Why did you like me?”

“Because you were smart and even though you didn’t like me you were still nice to me. And you always...” she sighed, and she went over to him at his desk. She pushed his food out of the way and leaned against the ledge of the desk. He slid his chair back to give her more space and his legs spread to either side of hers. He placed his hands on the outside of her hips to bring himself and the chair back toward her. “I always thought that even if you hated me, you...you would never let anything bad happen to me. You were always there. Every party that I felt uneasy about guys drinking around me. Every time it was late at night, and you still walked me home from the library even though I lived on the opposite side of campus...If I didn’t understand something in class, you never made me feel stupid. You just explained it to me. And you didn’t have to. You...” she smiled at him. “I think part of me hoped you would just start liking me more if I was around you enough...and I know I joke about it. But I don’t think you hated me. At least not...not like you could have.”

He smirked. His heart warmed with all the words she said. Naturally, she was right. He looked up at her and she swore she had never seen anything as beautiful as Harry Styles’ green eyes peering up at her through lashes that were simply sinful to have on any man, let alone him. “I love you.”

“See? It worked,” and as often as he did it, she adored the eye roll he gave her every single time.

*

“Hey,” Harry said entering Louis’ office. He handed him a paper to sign while he chatted on the phone. “Any chance y’heard about her case this morning?” He asked when Louis hung up.

“I heard she won, but I didn’t get the details yet,” Louis smirked. Harry was so proud. There was no reason for him to be, he had no doubt at all she would win. But he was anyway. He adored her and the pride was overwhelming. “Do you know if she made a plan for her interview yet? Have to say I was a bit blindsided by the reference call,” he told him while still scrolling through the messages on his phone and attempting, simultaneously to look through his email.

Harry blinked, his stomach dropped, and his blood felt cold. “What?” He asked.

Louis glanced up at his friend and pursed his lips. “Oh,” he muttered. “Perhaps, I said too much.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry felt the gnawing anger he used to feel around her biting at his stomach.

“It’s not my place, Harry. You’ll have to ask her,” he said.

Harry glared at his friend. He shouldn’t have. As much as Louis was his friend, he was also his boss. Not that Louis would fire him over something like this, but it was still rude. “Interview,” he repeated. Louis shifted his eyes from the computer, to Harry, and back. He nodded once.

Harry stormed out of Louis’ office slamming the door.

*

She knocked on his door. Exhausted. There was so much paperwork that needed to be done after her winning case. Winning felt like a chore sometimes and while she was grateful for the win, nothing sounded better than snuggling up to her boyfriend on the couch and watching a show for a few hours.

Harry silently opened the door. “Hi, cupcake,” she smiled sweetly.

He didn’t respond and waited for her to walk through. She frowned and entered quickly. He closed the door and walked by her as he headed to the kitchen, leaning against the island. “Congratulations are in order, I heard,” he mumbled pouring her a glass of wine.

“Uh...yeah, I guess,” the air was tense, and she didn’t know why. Taking the glass, she felt like Harry’s sour mood was her fault but what was worse was she didn’t know why. It was probably just a bad day on his part. They happened every so often. But now that she thought about it, it was weird he didn’t text her congratulations. He was typically the first one to say it, having some astute knowledge or maybe an inside person at the courthouse telling him all about her wins. She kicked her heels off, setting her glass on the island and then made her way to the bathroom to find some medicine.

Hearing the pills shaking out of the bottle made Harry pull out of his slump a bit. “Did y’skip lunch?” He asked, he was right outside the door it seemed. She didn’t want to answer him because she knew it would worsen his bad mood. “Take that as a yes,” he grumbled, and she heard him quietly pad away.

She thought long and hard about everything that could have happened today. Maybe it was something totally unrelated to her. But the tension was so thick it felt a bit suffocating. She splashed cold water on her face and headed back to the kitchen. “I’ll pay you a hundred if y’get it here in less than half an hour. Two hundred if s’less than fifteen minutes,” and then he hung up. He looked at her. “You can’t skip lunch.”

“I know,” she said. No use in arguing. He was right and he would win.

He leaned against the island again and she grabbed her drink before heading to the sofa this time. Harry stayed where he was until there was a knock on the door no more than ten minutes later. He paid the substantial sum he said he would and then brought the food to her. He placed her favorite burger and fries from her favorite place in front of her and then walked away again. “I have t’make a call,” he mumbled and headed to his room. She ate by herself along with the characters on TV. Only paying some vague attention while she tried to figure out what went wrong.

She heard Harry’s low voice for a long while, unable to make out any words but it did sound like a business call. But soon she had watched a whole forty-minute episode and her burger and fries were gone. She frowned, hearing nothing but silence from down the hall.

Cleaning up her stuff, she scribbled on a notepad that she needed to do laundry and she exited without so much as a kiss goodbye.

*

Harry’s stalemate with her was not going well. The agitation was so visible to everyone around him they literally turned in the opposite direction of him when he walked down the hall. They exited quickly from the room when he entered.

Since she was merely one office over, she could hear him yelling a lot while he was on the phone over the few days following her silent dinner alone in his apartment. Without knowing why he was mad, she didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t talk to her. She tried. She sat in his office and ate a tense, silent lunch with him while he stared at her, green eyes piercing through her as if she was hiding something.

After one day of that, she refused to subject herself to it again. She still brought Harry lunch the following day, a half hour earlier than normal, while he was still on the phone so he couldn’t say anything to her. She was silent and had a right mind to throw it in his lap and ruin his suit but refrained from doing so, just barely. He kept his tone even as he watched her walk in, place it on his desk, and then leave without a word.

Harry didn’t make any attempt to apologize for his behavior at his apartment nor told her anything about what he was feeling. She felt like she did back in university when he saw her at parties. He would stare at her for a moment and then move on. It was making her crazy. He didn’t come to her apartment, didn’t text her, and didn’t tell her if she was still invited to his mom’s house for dinner on Sunday. He did ensure a coffee was on her desk each morning (even though she had already had one before arriving at work) and made sure she had an Uber waiting outside the building when it rained on Thursday.

Her heart was starting to feel heavy; like Harry was pulling away from her and she didn’t know why.

It was at the Friday staff meeting that it finally all came to a head.

Harry was grumbly and making snide remarks under his breath. Louis merely glared at him and rolled his eyes as he continued. She said nothing. Mainly because she never said anything in the meetings but more so today than ever because of the silent feud happening in her personal life that was rapidly spilling into her professional life. She could feel his gaze hit her every few moments and linger another few moments more because she was horribly attuned to him and loved when he looked at her.

Except right now.

It was nearing the end of the meeting when Harry all but snapped once more. He made a good point, but he was of course grumpy about it, making everyone in the conference room uncomfortable and angry. The man sitting two seats away from her looked at her until she got the sense someone was watching her. She looked up and caught his gaze. “Do us all a favor, love: blow him already. It’s making our lives miserable.”

Louis was out of his seat almost as soon as the crass words left her coworker's mouth. He physically pushed Harry back toward the window as he all but lunged for the man that said it. She looked at her notes blankly. Tears pricking the back of her eyes and she knew her face was turning red. It wasn’t a secret they were dating, but they didn’t make a big show of it. It was totally out of line to say that, and it made her so uncomfortable. She did her best to ignore the whole situation as best she could while listening to Harry shout insults and profanities while people started filing out the room.

“Jesus Christ, talk to her!” Louis snapped once everyone had left. He released Harry who spun and glared out the window. “That’s a direct order,” he shouted. Louis didn’t look at her as he slammed the conference room door shut. She kept staring at her notes. Everyone else was gone but she was terrified of moving. Afraid that if she made any movement, she would start crying from the anger she felt toward that stupid coworker or from how sad she was that Harry hadn’t told her he loved her in almost four days. Now that he said it so frequently, she was an addict for it. Years of thinking he hated her only for him to say he loved her did a number on her and mostly in a good way. But if this was how their arguments were going to be...she wasn’t sure she could do this.

“Why didn’t y’tell me you were applying for a new job?” He grumbled.

She looked up and saw his hurt expression in the reflection of the window. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Because I’m not,” she said simply, shaking her head.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. “Please don’t lie t’me. I’ll lose it. I swear.”

“Harry, number one, I've never lied to you. Ever. I'm insulted you would say that to me. Number two, I did not apply anywhere.”

He turned around and he looked so hurt. Like he was betrayed because yeah, she never lied to him ever. “Louis said y’had an interview.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have said anything to you because it’s not true,” she snapped. "And you should have asked if you were so upset."

He blinked in surprise because she never had an angry tone. Even when she deserved to have one nor when she needed to have one. “Louis got a call from a firm...a reference call.”

She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know they called Louis,” she hissed at him. He felt himself freeze up at her words. He hadn’t considered that she didn’t know. “Have you been ignoring me all week because of that? Something I didn’t know about?” She whispered angrily. "Something you didn't tell me about?"

Harry felt like an idiot immediately. He thought about the day he confessed his love for her. How the first words of his confession were I’m going to be a shitty boyfriend. He meant it. Because it was true. He was a shitty boyfriend... It was something about her. If he scratched even a speck of dust off the surface of why that was, he would come to the obvious conclusion that it was because it was her. She was too good, and he was too mean to her all those years.

He stood where he was, arm resting on the window as he leaned against it. He took a deep breath, his heart already aching with the feeling that he majorly fucked up and it was exactly the kind of thing she would leave him for. “Yes,” he murmured. There was no use denying it. No use in trying to apologize right now. It was dumb and he needed to own it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She snapped. He flinched, but felt he deserved that. “Jesus Christ Harry, I give you so much grace and time because this is totally different than our old relationship. I know we’ve always had a rocky beginning but...you have to talk to me!” She croaked.

The sound of her tears threatening to fall made him nauseous. “We can’t do this here,” he said turning to her finally to see her wiping her eyes quickly. He felt devastated that he made her cry. “Let’s go—”

His tone was so gentle now that he realized he messed up. It shouldn’t have come to this, but here they were. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you right now,” she all but snarled, gathered her belongings and left Harry alone in the conference room.

*

Flowers arrived every hour after she got home. After the fourth hour, the delivery man apologized at her irritated expression. She glared at the pretty bouquet, and how it was softening her angry heart.

She texted him. You can send me a whole botanical garden. I’m not speaking to you. See how you like it. It was petty and childish. She was a grown woman, and it was not the appropriate thing to say but he didn’t respond. Naturally.

Her phone rang and she was surprised to see Gemma’s name lighting up her screen. “Hello?” she asked tentatively.

“What did he do?” Gemma asked.

“Your brother is a hot-tempered idiot,” she stated.

“I tried to warn you.” She didn’t say anything in response. Gemma sighed. “Look, I don’t know what he did, but I promise you, he did it because he loves you. It doesn’t make it right and you deserve to silent treatment him until the end of time. I have no right to make this request and I know you’ll probably hate me just for saying it, but please don’t leave him. He’s so happy with you. He knows he messed up and he’s gonna give you space now, but...you said it. He’s an idiot.”

“I’m not gonna leave him,” she rolled her eyes.

 Gemma’s relief was probably as palpable as Harry’s would have been. “Oh, thank God. That was more for me than for him. I won’t even tell him you said that. Let him sweat it.”

She smirked despite herself. “I was looking forward to dinner,” she admitted.

“You should still come, I’ll have Mum uninvite him and we can trash-talk him the whole time,” Gemma suggested.

She shook her head. “I’ll call him tomorrow. Hopefully he won’t break up with me.”

“Why would he break up with you?”

“Because your brother is an idiot. He would say he’s doing it for my benefit. I bet it will take some convincing.”

Gemma was quiet. “That does sound like him. Fuck. I’ll...I’ll talk to him.”

*

Can I call you? She texted Louis after the fifth bouquet arrived. I know it’s the weekend...I know it's super late...on a Friday...I know it’s...I’m sorry.

Her phone rang a moment later and she felt relief. “Hey love,” Louis said softly.

“Tell me what happened with the reference call.” She listened to his story, feeling an overwhelming amount of empathy for Harry. That had to have blindsided him. “Why didn’t you ask me?” She asked Louis.

“I had every intention of asking you, but he just happened to come to the office first. I never even thought you hadn’t told him, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t hiding it. There just wasn’t anything to tell. I never even applied. They saw my argument in court one day, they saw me beat them, and they wanted me. Just trying to recruit me and whatnot. Probably to scare you, I don’t know...I didn’t tell Harry because it didn’t...it’s nothing. I like where I am,” she explained. “I didn’t know they would call you. I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you as well.”

Louis chuckled. “Don’t worry love. Course they want you. Only the worst firm in the world wouldn’t. I love having you with us, darling. So, I’m glad.”

“Thank you. Sorry for the call.”

“Don’t apologize. Harry’s my friend too. Which means you’re my friend. Consider this a friend call.”

“Well thank you.”

“Have a good weekend, love. Call if you need anything.”

*

Harry gave her a key almost immediately after they started dating. She tried not to use it—only to surprise him once after a particularly hard day and she made his favorite dish for dinner. But most of the time, she was always with him.

But now, she was here because after tossing and turning for hours she could not fall asleep. Feeling like she couldn’t wait until morning, she got up and ready to leave for Harry’s place. After tripping over five more bouquets and vases outside her door, she rolled her eyes. She set them inside the doorway and hurried down to the street.

She trekked across town in an Uber; just her purse on her shoulder, oversized t-shirt, and a pair of leggings. She thought slippers might be too much, so she settled for a pair of comfy slipper-looking loafers. Within fifteen minutes she was at his door.

Quietly, she unlocked his apartment as it was nearing two thirty in the morning. She heard music playing from his room and she slipped her shoes off, padded silently down the hall. He was sound asleep. The light from his side table created a pretty glow over him and his smooth, tanned skin. The music was a playlist she made that she listened to fall asleep every so often. This one contained some of her favorite songs of the month. Her heart softened. He was holding his phone clutched in his hand and she was grateful he was a heavy sleeper as she pulled it from his grip. A picture of herself illuminated the screen and her heart weakened more. Harry was lightly snoring as she covered him with the blanket he had tossed at the end of the bed. One of his socks was half off his foot but she left it there because she thought it was pretty cute.

She clicked the light off and slipped into bed beneath the covers that he was lying on top of. She turned toward his body; his head was facing the other way, but she didn’t care. She gently laid her arm over his waist and finally felt tired enough to fall asleep peacefully.

*

She woke up to his beautiful green eyes staring at her. They were red around the corners—like he had cried, and the thought sent a shot of sadness through her like nothing she had ever felt before. “Creepy,” she mumbled instead and rubbed her eye for a moment. His gaze didn’t move.

He was under the covers now, his arm draped over her waist. “When did y’get here?” He asked ignoring her benign insult. He couldn’t do anything but look at her.

“Before three,” she said softly.

He winced. “Please don’t take Ubers that late,” he mumbled, sighing deeply. He bit his lip. “Should probably tell them t’stop with the flowers if you’re here; there will be six more out there.”

She couldn’t help the softening of her heart. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t thank me.”

She smiled and cupped his face between her hands. He pulled her by the waist, so her body was closer to him. “Harry,” she whispered. “You can’t give me the silent treatment.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “M’so sorry, kitten. Really.”

“I know,” she repeated him.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face pulling at his lower lip with two fingers. He looked exasperated. “I don’t know why I make it s’hard with you,” he muttered.

“I think it’s because you love me,” she whispered with a smirk on her face.

He closed his eyes. “Someone who loves you wouldn’t...not speak t’you. Not even for a second,” he told her. She put a hand on his face and waited until he opened his eyes.

“The flowers were a good start,” she whispered.

He smirked despite himself. “A start?”

She nodded a grin, painting her lips so beautifully, Harry thought his heart would stop. “You’ll think of something.”

He had this way of looking at her apologetically through his gorgeous eyelashes that framed his equally gorgeous green eyes. The most beautiful puppy dog eyes. “I don’t want y’to forgive me yet,” he said softly.

“I’m not,” she promised. But she would admit was hard not to when he looked so beautiful and full of remorse. “But I love you too much to be away from you.”

He sighed. “Somehow you’re infuriating,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you ask me your questions?” She asked.

He shook his head against her hand. “No. S’not my business. You can make your own decisions. And they have nothing t’do with me.”

She shook her head as he spoke. “You have everything to do with my big decisions. You’re part of my life, Harry. But I would tell you if there was a big decision to make.”

He was silent for a minute. Just stared at her.  She drew a little circle with her index finger on his cheek while he clearly thought something difficult. “Angel,” he whispered. She frowned. She hated that tone in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you. I forget your birthday, I give you the silent treatment, I don’ listen—”

She sighed. “If you break up with me, I’ll scream like a crazy person and I’ll put up the biggest fight you’ve ever seen,” she promised.

He smiled. “You are the most beautiful, wonderful person I’ve ever known. You are also the dumbest.”

“Smartest,” she said smugly. Pointedly. “I didn’t tell you because I’m not going anywhere. They wanted me.”

“Of course, they did,” he whispered as she spoke.

She smiled, unable to move her eyes from his. “I would never make a decision like that without your input,” she promised.

“You could do anything without my input.”

She ignored him. “We have always been a team. A weird one,” she assented, and he chuckled. “But a team.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face again. “S’jus’...when Louis asked...it jus’ made sense. Of course, you would leave,” he muttered. “You’d be away from him, and it would create some space between us. I gotta imagine m’a bit suffocating at times. Especially in the office next t’you? I don’t know, kitten...I jus’ thought you—”

“Can you just ask me next time?” She interrupted.

He nodded vigorously. “Yes,” he promised. “God kitten, you’re gonna be s’sick of me when m’upset.”

She shook her head. “Impossible. I’m sorry I didn’t try and argue more...I guess part of me is still a bit...” she sighed. “A lot of rewiring to do,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I forget that you want to hear my thoughts now,” she smiled.

He rolled his eyes. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

“Don’t ask for what you can’t handle, cupcake.”

“Would you jus’ kiss me already, kitten?” He sighed with yet another eye roll.

She shook her head. “Oh no. No way. My morning breath is so bad,” she said turning her head from him and then started to wiggle out of the bed. Harry grabbed her gently, tickling her as she protested, and quickly pinned her below him. Her laughter subsided as he smiled, hovering over her. Admiring how beautiful she looked like that, his leg pressed firmly between her thighs, her hands pinned next to her head beneath his. Her cheeks pinked at their position and Harry smiled impishly.

“There isn’t a world,” he bent down and kissed her collarbone, “in which,” her neck, “I won’t,” her cheek, “want t’kiss you,” he pressed his lips between hers. “You sweet, gorgeous girl,” he pressed several more kisses on her lips.

She smiled snd shook her head. “Tell that to 16-year-old, Harry,” she said.

“M’gonna kill you,” he promised.

“Can I forgive you now?”

He shook his head. “Not for at least a week. And I should buy you lunch every day and sleep on the couch.”

“Why would we sleep on the couch?” She asked curiously.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now kiss me again.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @tiredinwinter @sunshinemendes8 @youdontcaredoyou

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

[vampiric-succulent]

OUAW EP 20:

It’s not even past the bean footage yet and already I have a thing to comment about—

“Hey. Keep working. Keep your hands down.” Idk if it’s just Mace or if it’s me but this is an interesting thing to start the episode with

Also I lowkey already watched this but considering that I wasn’t really paying attention due to Sleep im rewatching

Oh this is the Silly Goofy episode. Got it.

Watching this is so different now that I know how tall each of these people actually are in real life

“Mr Kremyyyyy….. Torbek had a nightmaaaare………..” torb <3

Hot jones?

Why is Mikey using the King Shmebulon voice

Oh the energy here is so weird today

NEXT YOURE GONNA TELL TORBEK THAT A SHRIMP FRIED THAT RICE and they’re gone

The improv shenanigans here are SO GOOD— “the wee hours” watches and the blue J and the bottle of something

HOT JONES!!!

“There was that guy and he was like… woah.” Bi Gricko!!!! “Why you always watching these kingly types and looking at their woah?” Lmfao Gideon you are no better

Degenerate Jones

TABAXI TORBEK and eughhh Mammon Tiefling Gricko (applying for all Mammon Tiefling Gricko)

I love how Kremy is super paranoid thinks everyone is out to get him but still immediately tells Gideon everything (I need to see Gideon do some sort of something back bc coalecroux is feeling increasingly one sided and it is making me sad)

“Torbek was happy with the infinite abyss”

THE FEDS

Poor Twig she went from dealing with absolute loneliness to dealing with all this bullshit. She needs to have the space to Bogart out a little bit like get this woman a destruction room

Twig 🤝 Torbek

coping mechanisms

Gideon has such older brother who acts like a father figure to Twig vibes

THE FEDS THEYRE IN THE CLOTHES

Torbek is simply following suit… following the suit to the ground lmfao

PENIS NOSE?????? HOW IS THAT AN OPTION

Gideon is overwhelmed by Penis im sorry

This is just reminding me of when Frost got the proud nudist curse and Derek made that slapping turn joke 😭

Obligatory “im walkin here” please stop

Nvm we have the coalecroux and also poly party affirmations (long shots and headcanons)

OH!!! Woah there Kremy

“Think of the Federal government!” Quick Gid take your clothes off!! The government!!!

OH NO THE ORCIFICATION

NO THE FUCKING CABINET

DEREK. DEREK WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT DEREK WE COULD HAVE NEVER GONE DOWN THAT ROAD

Love Torbek’s Spring Aladrin voice. It’s like some sort of old English aristocratic friend of Oscar Wilde.

Oop! Theseus’s Ship mentioned (kind of)

“Did we do a bunch of drugs before bed again?” Funny you should have asked that Gideon given what is now happening

“Tentacles probe me” “yes Gideon join us the time is now get naked”

WHY IS IT ERECT NOW DEREK. PUT THAT DOWN. “Something about beekeeper helmets…” HUH

Oh god Twig is gonna bogart out

PUT IT DOWN. PUT THAT THING DOWN AND AWAY.

“STOP BEING ERECT. STOP EATING MY BONES”

Love how Nikkie says “your mind is back to Gricko” and Mikey just starts screaming

Whoops!

It is so impressive how Twig is so controlled. Like she has every justification to absolutely freak out right now and she’s keeping calm and trying to manage things.

Thank god Hootsie is out of this lol

NO TWIG LOOK AWAY

“Torbek was *very* thorough.”

Okay seriously how old is Twig?? This is a very important question. Like REALLY important.

I’m imagining Spring Aladrin Torbek lying on a couch like he’s gonna say “draw me like one of your French girls”

Guys. Please. We are nearly halfway through this video. Please.

YES CAST SILENCE. HUSH MICHAEL.

No Twig it’s not your fault!!!!!!! No!!!!!!!!!!!

Not the Pennsylvanian sperm trees

“After what I’ve watched today I don’t think you’ll accomplish anything of value.”

Not the milk joke PLEASE y’all not the cilk

Frost is so sweet tho

No more Hot Joneses :(

Yesss Twig establish those boundaries!!!!

Tom is such a deep cut

Okay so Twig is at least 200 years old. Good. That’s really good. Good to know.

Grinko is having a stronk. Please call the Gronkulance.

WHAT HAPPENED TO HOOTSIE.

Omg she’s their niece!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But also HOLY FUCK HE HIT HER??? WITH A CABINET????????

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

Menasith, and their older sibling Menapauthe.

The Glowing Anus 😭

Oh this is Nikkie’s fault. Fantastic.

MORNING FROTH CONGRATULATIONS EVERYONE

“That’s very funny Gricko. Your daughter is possibly bleeding out.”

Ohhhh Hootsie’s okay thank god

Gricko however is really not

Okay so I know this is a fantasy campaign and we are in the literal Feywild so this like kind of doesn’t matter but how does Gideon get energy??? Does he need to absorb nutrients or is it just sort of as long as he keeps his internal furnace alive he’s okay?

Twig boundaries 100 with regards to Torbek but fully get the party’s concerns

Also Twigsy ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Not Gricko being hypnotized by Spring Aladrin Torbek’s hip sway

Torbek does not know but Torbek must dance!!!!

Oh Torbek’s ticket is so sad

“This is an Acorn Satchel!!!”

Mikey annoying Nikkie so much that she just takes things away

Frost getting jealous over the Gricko impression 😭❤️

What is a mud meffet?????

I love Andy so much. Oh he’s wonderful. So glad he’s here.

KLUTZY RETURNS for like two seconds

Love these guys. Oh my lord. Also what the fuck happened in the first like hour???? Still a fun little episode.

[ygodmyy20]

Opps this post got forgotten! But if I don't post it today when will I!?

Okay so, I've been thinking for awhile on the question: why do I like terumob and why did it take over my brain? What is it about it...what caught my interest. As someone who was very NOT into ships when i first got into mp100, why did I crashland into this one?

This post has been in progress for like....weeks now? Nearly a month? 3 months? Yea.

Okay so. Here we go. THOUGHTS! On terumob and why the fuck I like it. Below the cut.

Like I mentioned, when I first finished Mob Psycho 100 in June of this year I wasn't into any ship. I was actually REALLY NOT into ships. I really liked gen. I wanted to explore the characters and I loved the complex relationships between everyone but I didn't want it to be overshadowed by romance. I purposely steered clear of any and all ship art.

But then I started to see some TeruMob fanart and I was like "Aw man, they are so cute and squishy." And I started to like them....just a lil bit. ONLY A LITTLE BIT.

BUT then I read more Teru-centric fics, read Teru analysis' and then I was like. Oh shit, Teru is 100% so into Mob it's like....this kid has it bad. He has a major crush. And even on the rewatch I am like WOW yep, confirmed in my brain, Teru has it bad. The subtext of his pinning is JUST so there for me. I didn't even have to look hard for it. I suddenly was very in on the Teru-one-sidded part of the ship.

But here's the thing, I'm not a big fan of ships like that... feels too unrequited. Hard for me to really like it. I need to have some level of something from both sides. Just how I am.

So that still leaves the question.

When and how does Shiego liking Teru work? Is there any subtext for that or am I just making it all up because I want the ship to work for me?

(which also is fine ya'll, no judgement if you ship two characters that barely interact, thats the fun of fandom stuff!)

I mean, all things considered, Shigeo likes Tsubomi. Scratch that, he REALLY likes Tsubomi. Shiego loves very strongly, like all his emotions. And he definitely likes Teru, they are good friends, so I kept thinking: where and how does that cross into a crush to me, for these characters?

Teru cares a lot, he adores Shigeo—Shigeo is kind, he is powerful, he is everything Teru wants to be. But are there places where I see this same level of intensity from Shigeo?

Annnnnnnnd then I got to their fight in season 3.

Everything Shiego did to Teru was so pointed. So raw and angry. Like I said, I think Shigeo feels his feelings very strongly and, I don't know, just the fact that he PERSUED Teru to humiliate him EXACTLY in the same way again, tells me that their first meeting had an intense impact on him. We don't see a lot of his feelings on his meeting with Teru, besides the brief ??? in that episode. After meeting Teru, it's just...life goes on as normal for them. But deep down I don't think Shigeo ever really tackled his complex feelings about Teru and their first meeting.

So it all comes out, its all be stewing for AGES, and what comes out is mean. It's aggressive. It's almost sarcastic? It's what happens when we let things chew us up inside and comes out all twisted.

Teru evoked such a strong reaction from Shigeo, even if Shigeo didn't admit it or express it, that I can't help but think, after things have settled, after he has spent more time adjusting to his whole self...after they both take time to really examine themselves and grow....

....that Shigeo wouldn't develop stronger feelings for this boy who also turned his world upside down. Who made him feel such strong emotions, who changed his world too.

Teru was forever changed by meeting another esper his age.

I think Shiego was too.

And I think where I started to love them was after the finale, after Teru's acceptance of Shiego for who he was.

I don't want to pigeonhole any of the espers into only being able to date other espers. But I also....yes, Shiego is a normal kid, but he is also Shiego.

Teru is a person who understands the strength it takes to keep that power, who has seen Shiego at all sides. His best and his worst.

But gosh this scene....

OUGHGGH

JUST THROW ME IN A RIVER WHY DON"T YOU

Yeah this whole scene just.....just yea. OUGH.

But yeah I just feel like Teru's crush would only grow after that. He would see Shigeo as a person over an all powerful esper.

While I like to think Shigeo's would develop over time and them smack into him like a runaway freight train. Because Shigeo FEELS so strongly, for all his emotions. He feels sadness strongly, he feels love strongly, he feels anger strongly—he just feels everything SO strongly. That is why he is powerful, that is why he is who he is, that is why ??? became what it is.

Anyway. My thoughts have ended and that's all i got. Thanks for coming to my ted talk of rambling mess that has been in progress for months that I realized whelp with the anniversary of the end of S3 nearly here, mind as well post it.