#from where we left them. a lot of these cover stories blend into the main story so well its just seamless

[moonpaw]

Fighting DEMONS rn trying not to get invested in one piece to figure out wtf you're posting about!!!!

come here cyber.... we have this thang

‎

[meowsequence]

The paradox of white chest plate is solved!

Warning: 1) Heavy spoilers 2) Lots of text 3) My point of view may change later

Let's recap some "Fake Ending" and "Continue Game" events:

Elster enters the Gates and goes through red desert. Red is the colour of bio-resonance and Ariane's wrath and suffering, or, in other words - Hell. Loops are also part of Hell.

She sees many corpses which are not (!) results of "Leave" ending - these don't look like they died with inner peace, they are far from Penrose-512 and, most importantly, they are still in Hell. These Elsters just never found the Ship or didn't dare to come closer. Remember Ariane's "come closer" call?

This time Elster finally made it to the ship! But then she got injured by invisible strike. Invisible means bio-resonance and there is only one bio-resonant in Hell - it's very creator Ariane. She didn't forgive Elster. Red part of Ariane feels betrayed and who can blame her?

Despite feeling Ariane's wrath, which hurts in many ways, Elster keep going. She puts her hand on the ship and awful noise stops. She climes up Penrose-512 and tries to open the hatch. "Ghost in the Shell" reference shows that Elster does not care of her body, she didn't forgive herself neither. And she fails. Again. And she falls down dying. Again.

She's actually dead, just look at her eye at main menu! The tragic story of Penrose-512 repeated.

We chose to continue and we see memories of Elster and Ariane being happy (interesting detail - back window is blue here)

We coming back to Elster's dead body and see how Ariane's figure appears next to it. Then we see how Ariane's face blends into bandaged version. I guess we can read it as Aline taking over Ariane or it is Ariane's other side kicks in as she looks at poor Elster? The side that is tired of suffering and wants it all to end - the White (sorry, white won't be visible) colour side, aka what's left of original Ariane. (Is it a proof that there are 2 long-haired Arianes in the line-up, so either one of them Aline or Ariane has 2 sides?) And then…

Elster's last memories are taken out of Red Hell (and therefore - out of loop) into White (snowing) Limbo. Just same way it was transferred from dead Elster on Penrose-512 to Hell in the beginning of the game.

Elster opens her eyes and climbing back. She does not use the hatch. Instead she appears in Ariane's room on the same place where original Elster-512 died. She has another dreadful injury now - her heart was brutally ripped out. That is the scary price for another try. It is hard to admit, but love was the reason of Elster's failures. And now she's desperate enough: she gave a promise and she'll do anything. We see exposed blue bones, blue is Elster's colour. And Ariane accepts Elster's hart as a sacrifice and… forgives her?

Finally, we are approaching the chest plate paradox that is announced in the title! But first, couple words about our sponsor… Do you like brain rot? Have you ever been going to bed and saying "man, I wish I had something to think about again and again instead of healthy sleep"? Try Signalis! Providing broken harts and sleepless nights from 2022! And if you are an artist, you are cursed for additional 50%! Okay-okay, now serious XD

Remember that we are still in White Limbo, outside loops of Red Hell. Another Elster's body we find by the cryo-pod is not a result of other in-Hell endings! It shows us WHERE and HOW we should have died! Arm/armour - is a sign of Ariane's forgiveness. We cover red chest plate and arm markings (the colour of Ariane's wrath) in white and blue - colours of Ariane and Elster. And that will protect us. Now she's ready to jump back to Hell. Now Red side of Ariane can't stop her anymore! What she's gonna do about it, huh? Except… hm… driving Adler mad and wake up Falke? >_>

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 37: Undead + Unluck

Little fanartist

This cover is super sweet and the little details like the stubby crayon and the way the socks gather are so wholesome! I love the blending of genres, too. Little Fuuko has drawn a sports manga scene from You-Me and has a magical girl on her shorts, and the cover itself is a time travel.

Space soccer club invasion arc sounds like a real page-turner, tbh. I'd read it.

The panels we're shown all match up with something that happened during the Acks battle. ⬇️

They point out several times that To You, From Me has 101 volumes, which corresponds with the tablet that keeps track of penalties.

Something that bugs me here is that Juiz gives them instructions without explaining why doing those things is important.

I wish she would give them more context like what she thinks they might find. It feels like she's still keeping some of the important info to herself.

Andy concludes that they'll need to make a manga to get into Shueisha HQ. Which is just an absolutely delightful thing to happen after the heavy Unbelievable Arc.

Fuuko has every fanfic author's dilemma:

Andy mentions Osamu Tezuka, the "Father of Manga," whose famous works were created in the 1950s-80s. One of his later works was Black Jack, and the main character has some similarities with Rip.

Black Jack also has some chapters that have been changed or removed from publication, much like You-Me.

Tezuka used what he called a "Star System," which was his rotating cast of recurring characters that appear in works in his universe, similar to looping in UU using the same character types for each loop.

Andy tells Fuuko to write what she knows best.

Fuuko says she's especially interested in learning more about herself through writing the story, so that she'll be able to summon even greater strokes of Unluck, which takes us back to Chapter 4, when Andy was trying to do the exact same thing:

BUT, now that Andy knows he won't die even if the world ends, what's the point of Fuuko trying to give him the best death??

What's the point of Andy's big dream to have a wicked sick death? What's the point of him staying with Fuuko? Unless, of course, he's developed feelings for her!

Andy gathers a team of helpers (except Shen, whose power is too dangerous for this project, but it's nice to see him speaking Chinese) and says he'll do the storyboards. Mico even brings Fuuko a set of robot arms to help her draw more quickly. Tatiana gives her some interesting advice on how to use them...

"Imagine looking down at yourself from above." BECAUSE THAT'S HOW FUUKO'S GONNA WRITE THE STORY! She's looking down at her own life and putting it on paper. She's writing what she knows!

There's even a panel of her drawing her manga!

Having Fuuko write her own manga is fun in a Bakuman kind of way, but I also think it's a comment from the God/Author. This is just one of the many ways the God/Author is making them suffer and toil, and of course the author feels that this is a real test of character and strength. They're making the characters suffer as they have.

It also gives the IRL author Tozuka a chance to throw in some light gags about the manga business and let Andy wear a fun hat.

No, he doesn't look like a shoujo manga artist--- he looks like Osamu Tezuka!

Poor Andy, he tried!

The Shueisha rep tells her a lot of very specific feedback that's probably the same kind of things Tozuka heard when he submitted Undead Unluck! The manga Fuuko submitted, with its wilder-looking Andy, matches up pretty well with the one-shot that started UU. I hope she left out the gropey parts.

Anyway, the manga impressed the Shueisha rep enough that she agreed to let Fuuko see the original manuscript for To You, From Me.

Now we know why we've been hearing so much about this manga, starting from page 1, chapter 1 where Fuuko is holding it while standing on the bridge over the trains. It's not just an "artifact" in the story. An ARTIFACT was used to write it!

Masterpost

[bookwyrminspiration]

Bestie your art is absolutely incredible, so good in fact that it's given me creative energy.

Anyway, I feel like you're someone who would put a lot of thought in your layout, so if you have any thoughts behind it I would love to hear them.

!! That is such a huge compliment thank you so much. I hope you enjoy whatever you decide to do with that creative energy! I have reread the tags you left on that piece about five times because they are so so sweet and you took the time to point out specific parts and as an artist that is always!! such a fun part to read. had to stim out the happy!

Now to answer your question, yep there was a fair amount of thought put into everything! The one exception is the clothes--Sophie, Dex, and Keefe had specific outfits attributed to their characters throughout the series and I based Linh's on her Nightfall cover outfit, but otherwise it was just "what can I easily do with how I've drawn their bodies already?

I wanted to have 1-2 characters per color (3 seemed crowded), and I used the meanings of the colors to decide most of where I put everyone...the explanations of which got very long so!! under a cut!

up first is pink, which represents sex and noticeably doesn't have a character. as this is a middle grade series and I was working with the main characters, there isn't really anyone who I feel fits that. The closest I could think was Ro, but I didn't want to include bodyguards for this piece. So I considered doing a landscape, but there are so many places that I couldn't pick one, so then I turned to quotes. I wanted one related to love and life that could fit the spirit of the message I wanted, and that's how I ended up picking the Mr. Forkle dying speech quote. Because it's about living your life, continuing on, and being happy. And I think that's a essential message for pride, to be happy and to live your life. Love people if you want, take risks, fight when you can. the flowers were more to fill space than anything, but I think they're nice either way

Red is supposedly Sophie's color, but it also represents life and that's something she's been denied the chance to fully experience due to standing out everywhere she goes, so I wanted to give her a chance to be alone and asked "what would she do if she had an afternoon to herself?" and remembered the books she had in her human room and how she brought her ipod to the lost cities and hasn't really used it, so I figured I'd draw her having a chance to live her life by herself for once! then I also pointed out recently that she wears a very specific white outfit on a lot of covers, hence the clothes. and i wanted to represent different aspects of her life, which brought in ella (a human aspect) and iggy (the elven) and the book (a tie)

Orange is healing, which I thought fit with Keefe and Dex best (I considered Marella as well but ended up putting her in yellow). Keefe's been trying to heal from the broken family he was raised in and the trauma he's endured, and while he's not there quite yet it's going to be an instrumental part of who he is. Then Dex has had an arc of coming to terms with a lot of grudges he's had against the world and letting them go, healing from the hurt and moving past it to live a life he enjoys without anger--and the Dex/Keefe pairing works well together, so that was a plus as well. For their background I tried to make a blend of the description of Dex's own lab and the drawings we have of Slurps and Burps, so it's predominantly Dex's stuff and knick-knacks and experiments, but you'll notice on the middle of the shelf is a certain Mrs. Stinkbottom to represent keefe!!

Yellow is sunlight, so it seemed only natural to draw on two of the characters who are most related to light--Wylie and Marella. I also consider Biana to be a light character, but found her better suited for violet. And even if they might also relate to healing or life or spirit, one of the things they bring to the story is shining light on different things. They both bring attention to different issues and bring them to the forefront, shining the light on them. On the consequences of the world they live in, so it was like a bonus double alongside having abilities that can literally create light!! And then the way they're posed to be using their abilities in tandem was a nice instant of the two of them having visible abilities that are similar to each other, and I wanted to make the way they stood unique. Everyone is positioned slightly different for variety, so I thought it would be fun to have them reaching for each other and the rays of light and sparkles came from that

Green is nature, which originally gave me a pause because there aren't any nature related main characters--there's the gnomes, but I was specifically focusing on the kotlcrew here and the closest is Linh, who I'd already decided would be indigo. So then i decided to go a little deeper and remembered that Stina works with unicorns at Sterling Gables, which seemed like a perfect fit. Her empathy plays a huge part in her unicorn work, so it seemed only natural for them to be super close and for it to be a soft moment, so no huge grin. Just her in the moment--then to amplify the nature sense I added the foliage around. She's also frequently alone and not as integrated into the group, so it seemed more appropriate for her to be alone

then there's teal!! which is magic/art. I will admit a big part of why Fitz is there is because of the teal eyes, but I also drew a little on the "magic is just what humans call what they don't understand" (paraphrased) line from book one where Fitz laughed at the idea...while also showing Sophie a world she didn't understand, effectively showing her magic. I thought it was a fun little contradiction. And then Maruca was like this magic solution to everyone else with Sophie's "This changes everything!!" though she tried to reason through. She's the wild card, the game changer, the shift. I think there's a certain amount of magic in that--also she distinctly didn't feel like any of the others except maybe violet. Also just happened to work out to make one of her locs the teal :). Their background is less detail than everyone else because their abilities are hard to represent and they don't have a specific Thing in common or in contradiction that's as recognizable, so I ended up just trying to represent who they are in the lines. Fitz with clean, straight lines representing his straightfoward approach to things, and Maruca with lightning because her ability is like energy and because she's unpredictable and powerful.

And then the indigo, which is serenity, I simply had to give to Linh. She is so wise beyond her years and has this approach of kindness when possible while unafraid to be brunt and forceful when needed, and I think that kind of understanding of herself gives her the attitude we recognize. It's the kind of thing that leads to peace with yourself, to serenity. It also doesn't hurt that she's a water character and indigo is very blue. So to work with both the water and the serenity i posed her with the calm expression and flowing hair, body open because she's trusting and in control of herself. I tried to keep her background as simple as I could to really hammer home that idea of calmness compared to some of the chaotic lines and scattered details in other backgrounds.

And finally, the violet!! representing spirit, I found both the vibe of the color and it's meaning to fit Biana and Tam. They both have such strong convictions and feelings about so much--not that others don't--that they're like...the spirit of the group. The confidence of Biana and the reservations of Tam and his stark hatred for the world. They represent perspectives and mindsets in ways others don't. Tam also works with shadows and the unseen and the quiet, and if you interpret spirit in the sort of soul/creature/unseen inhumanity then I think he matches. Plus i've always associated Biana with purple. Their background was kind of a surprise because I was just brainstorming and then went...wait a minute light and dark. sun and moon. optimism and pessimism. they're compliments to each other. Biana's ability revolves around light and she's a positive person and Tam's revolves around darkness and doubt. they're like night and day, and from there the background was born--though that reasoning is also part of why they're back to back. it was a new pose and also represented how they're close but still so different, which i thought was fun

so that was kinda my thought process behind the choices I made for who went where and why they were drawn the way they were!! I also made the choice to have them all smiling with their eyes closed--smiling, because the drawing is about being proud and happy in who you are, and eyes closed because of the vibes. Seriously I tries to draw like 3 different people with their eyes open and it just felt wrong. It didn't help that I was doing everything on such a small scale. literally some things I did pixel by pixel because everything was so small to fit in all in the proportions I wanted.

that got long but hopefully gave some insight!!

[whatsinyourstory]

Motivations To Love Second Hand Books

Used books are glorious, they're curios of social history, bits of craftsmanship and loved abstract belongings all simultaneously.

Here is a couple of things to appreciate:

1. Dried up, rumpled spines and very much took care of, hence all around cherished kids' books. Beautiful to think about how often the book has been perused. Was it part of an assortment? Was it the main book the past proprietor or proprietors had?

2. This book has a place with...

I love seeing a name, written in kid's composing particularly, scribbled in a book. It provides the book with a feeling of 'having a place' and appears to be deliberate, and verifies the kids' book some way or another. A name assists with envisioning the kid, the past proprietor. We have practically the whole 'Thomas the Tank Motor' book assortment, with the name 'GUTUM' ( in some cases a blend of capitals and lower case) scribbled on each cover inset. I love that this was GUTUM's assortment, and we've figured out how to hold the books together, joined by their past proprietor.

3. Cover insets, old ones particularly, a prelude to the story inside, laying the right foundation in a capricious fantastic manner. I like it when they're stain filled and written on, as I feel I'm taking a gander at an image that was once gazed at, examined and modified by tired kid eyes and dirty

little fingers.

4. Arbitrary kid drawn numbers: you find this a ton in recycled LadyBird Books I find, simply the sheer rationale of this mystery message from a kid's psyches eye, and how this then, at that point, bewilders me, the grown-up peruser, such an extremely long time later. What did they mean by this. What's the code? What was the kid attempting to say...if anything! It's a confounding secret, that is probably going to be rarely tackled.

5. What's more, along these lines, the all around ready, benevolent kid jot. I think this is my number one of the multitude of motivations to see the value in used books. I particularly love furious dark felt tip write like those above as it's actual last, exceptionally long-lasting and positive. I can likewise envision the kid who crawled off and 'altered' this book thinking 'I'll get you unnerving canine, take that!' I think these changes are so aesthically satisfying, so significant, and profound. They're bits of genuine workmanship. Maybe I ought to set up a workmanship presentation showing all of my used book pulls, showing the furious verve of the youngsters and felt tips of this 'age' 😀

6. Old books! You can get a few actually quite old, lovely books in cause shops, for instance. I like taking a gander at the various strategies for restricting, and the various inks, and

defenses and print type text styles. The book above is from 1947-quick post war England! How old is the first proprietor today? What was their life like contrasted with now, and when did

they part with this book? As far as friendly history, a need to wear chronicled gloves, these are valuable and intriguing things. It's a priveledge to run over these old tired books. I like to give them a peaceful retirement, some place where they'll be protected and cherished once more.

7. Lastly, stories that have left style. A portion of these truly peculiar stories, with the creepiest of outlines, genuinely captivate and enchanting the present kids. We have an extremely peculiar first release, perhaps independently published book from the 1980s about a witch and her shadow. The youngsters love it, regardless of thinking that it is new and creepy. That sensation of dread, is in someways, part of the allure and draw. We read this book, The Kindling Box, this evening. The components of the story are all extremely dull, and there doesn't appear to be an ethical string, with the exception of the reality the trooper gets what he needs from killing a witch, taking care of a show kid, and wedding a princess. It's very reviving then, to peruse something a lot more like reality, than how the glossed over current youngsters' fiction, would have us accept.

Buy second hand books from best online bookstore now!

[bitches-who-write]

Bower’s Gang Halloween Special (one-shot)

WARNING:  Genre- Horror.  We love horror / slasher themes so we channeled that into this story lol.  This idea is heavily influenced by the movie, Hell Fest.  So credit due to that movie for the sound clip used and for the main premise of this story!  *If you’re looking for fluff or if horror bothers you, skip this story! You’ve been warned.

Slice & Dice: Patrick Hocksetter Halloween One-Shot:

She knew she wasn’t suppose to be here. Why did she ever let her friend talk her into this?

House of Fears is Derry’s popular haunted house attraction.  If you don’t go, you’re not doing Halloween right!   So I know what you’re thinking.  What’s the problem?  Well… House of Fears is a lot of fun when you go during actual hours of operation.  Last walk-through ended at 11PM and it’s currently 3AM.  Yup, you guessed it.  She and her friend decided to sneak in after the attraction closed. They agreed to not bring a flashlight or any cell phones; that would make the experience scarier, so they thought. And scary was what they were looking for after all~

They were enjoying themselves, taking turns scaring the absolute shit out of each other when suddenly all the props, sound effects and strobe lights in the attraction turned on.  They looked at each other confused. Okay~ that wasn’t suppose to happen.  It is supposed to be closed after all… 

They linked arms holding onto each other as they wearily walked  from room to room looking for the exit now.  They jumped whenever a prop lunged out at them, or whenever the deafening sound effects were set off from them tripping the hidden sensors. They entered one room where there were at least 20 props all looking like tall men wearing black pants and black hoodies with the hoods up.  All of them looked so life-like, it wasn’t hard to imagine one of them being real.  They slowly walked through the room when suddenly her friend let out an ear-piercing, horrific cry.  The friend’s eye dilated as she slowly collapses to the ground.   Standing behind her was a man dressed exactly like the other 20 props standing there. He pulls the knife out of the dead friend’s side and slowly wipes off the blood. He never looked up so his face was still obstructed by the hood.  All she could make out was dark hair.  The girl was frozen in fear as she looked between the man and her deceased friend laying in a pool of her own blood.  Finally she snaps out of it and the voice in her head tells her to RUN!  

She takes off as fast as she could, occasionally glancing behind her. However, the mysterious man does not move.  Why isn’t he chasing me? She thinks to herself, feeling like her heart is beating out of her chest.  Standing in place, he  slowly raises his hand and gives her an eerie, taunting wave.  His fingers wiggle slowly as he keeps waving at her.  Despite her getting further and further away, the strange man doesn’t move from his spot.  Does he know something I don't?  She thinks to herself, still running through the haunted house attraction looking for an emergency escape.

Running faster than her legs can carry, she hit the ground hard with a thud letting out a whimper after twisting her ankle.  The hallway was almost completely dark with the exception of  the flashing lights.  The sounds were so  disorienting, it was hard to tell when he was coming…  She scurried to get up, half limping as she anxiously looks over her shoulder.  She eyed a small dark closet, the door painted all black which blends into the wall.  Maybe he won’t notice it!  Deep down she knew hiding in a closet isn’t the smartest move.  Confining herself in there could result in the same outcome as her friend but with an injured ankle now, there weren’t too many options left.  She limps into the closet, sliding her back down the wall to allow herself to sit, whimpering in pain and fear. 

Suddenly she hears heavy foot steps coming down the corridor.  She gasps but quickly covers her mouth to muffle her heavy breathing.  As much as she doesn’t want to, she forces herself to peak though the thin crack where the door frame meets the wall.  In an ominous, almost playful tone, the man dressed in all black begins to hum.  The gruff tone in his voice certainly mocking as he enjoys toying with this poor girl. 

(Volume on for full effect)

He stops humming and slowly turns towards the closet door.  The girl silently cries, still keeping a hand over her mouth but this time keeping her eyes shut tightly.  How stupid to think he wouldn’t find me.  He did this to fuck with me.  There was never a chance of escape!  She thinks to herself.

The closet door slowly creeks open as the tall man looms over her small frame.  Her knees drawn to her chest, arms keeping her legs close to her body to make herself as small as possible.  She hesitantly looks up, eyes glued to the sharp knife clutched tightly in his fist.  Her eyes then trail up higher.  Her jaw drops as pure horror settles in.   Patrick Hocksetter.  She knew he was insane but honestly thought it was an act for attention.  She couldn’t fathom what he is now capable of. 

He slowly kneels down, a slight smirk playing on his lips. The girl cowers, trying to turn her head away from him as she quietly begs.  Patrick takes the knife and gently brushes away her hair that covers part of her face.  “Aww come on now, let me see that pretty face, sweetheart.”  His mischievous smirks widens as she cries more, catching one of her tears with the blade.  “Please d-don’t kill me..” She whimpers out defeatedly. Patrick chuckles as he pulls her up.  One arm wrapped around her waist, the other around her shoulders.  His knife dangerously close to her neck.  He nips at the side of her neck and laughs at her startled and terrified reaction. “Kill you?” He fake pouts. “No, no, no.  Now why would I do that.. so soon?”  The tone in his voice so mocking she could practically hear the smirk she refused to look at on his amused face. “I just want to play with you~” he chuckles darkly making her flinch once more.

Patrick looks at the knife intently, really studying the blade looking so intrigued. Finally he nods, as if he’s coming back to ‘earth’ after zoning out. He whispers into her ear, “You know, I always wondered what it’d be like to use a knife. Your friend went quicker than I anticipated but that’s what makes this so fun… Think of it as an experiment.”  With that he gilds the knife against her, making her scream in sharp pain but more fear than anything since the cut wasn’t too deep. His demeanor and tone of voice suddenly  changes from teasing / taunting, to very cold and calculated.  He looks at the wound he caused and smirks once more, licking his lips.  “Now the real fun begins.” 

[starsstruck]

like the sun coming out

part of the cloubusting universe. a continuation of the story of painter!harry and barista!mc. icy february mornings, valentine’s dates, and soft painting sessions. 

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, sexual content words: 9.3k

series masterlist

an: hello and happy valentines day💕  im sorry to be a day late but everyday is valentines if you want it to be <3 i hope this finds you well, this is again, just more sweetness because i cant help it. hope everyone has a wonderful loved fill day, happy reading, and as always let me know what you think 💕💕

You eyed the bouquet sitting by the pastry case. The red of the roses were bright, easily contrasted with the adorning baby’s breath – a classic bouquet that was probably sold out all over town considering the date.

Holding your mug high by your mouth in both hands, warming your cold fingers as you blew lightly over the hot coffee. Standing by the space heater that kept its place under the counter, reveling in the warmth before you had to open the café.

You glanced at your phone that sat on the counter, tapping the screen to check the time. 6:27. You had three minutes. And two minutes since you had last checked, two minutes and still no new text notifications.

Sighing, you leant back over the counter and watched the few cars drive by outside, spending those three minutes you had enjoying your coffee.

Sunday’s were always unpredictable. A lot factored into how busy a shift would be, the weather being the main factor. But then there were holiday’s which for whatever reason were even busier. So working a sunny Valentine’s Day, you could more or less determine that it wouldn’t be long before a line formed out the door. All you could hope was that the line ups would form in the afternoon, when you were free from work.

You weren’t that lucky.

An expected slow start, but as soon as the sun rose higher in the sky you found yourself unable to catch a break. And when Saya came in, it seemed to get even busier. Regulars, big families, couples going for walks – it was all expected but you still felt your mood worsen while your shift went on. It was one of those days, where you’d spill milk and drop cups, a day where nothing seemed to be going right.

The only good thing about a busy day is that time flew by fast. Soon it was just past two o’clock, and you were clocking out while eyeing the newly forming lineup that was officially no longer your concern.

Pulling on your coat, grabbing your bag, and sending one more glance at your phone, before you were heading out the door. There had only been a few notifications – none of them being the one you were waiting to see. You had decided that if Harry didn’t say anything to you by five o’clock, that you would text him again. Or maybe you should call.

You had texted him late last night, unable to sleep before your early shift, and the messages were still left unanswered.

It was only silly little fight, you couldn’t even remember how it had started, just a quiet annoyance. Something about you having to work all week, and suddenly he wasn’t answering your texts. But now it was now nearly twelve hours since it happened and you were growing worried that he was more upset with you than you’d initially thought.

Your walk home was cold, and slow, as exhausted manifested in the balls of your feet. You easily gave in to the overwhelming urge to pull off your boots and slide into bed for a moment as soon as you got home. Your music was still playing in your earbuds, moving it over to your little speaker as you pulled the covers up under your chin and rested your cheek on your pillow. A little lie down was very much needed at the moment. 

A faint buzzing echoed around you.

Consciousness came slowly. You groggily opened your eyes, peering out your window to see the sky still light, meaning your little nap couldn’t have been as long as it felt. You slowly realized that the faint buzzing was coming from your phone, which was likely buried somewhere deep in the duvet around you.

Searching for where the sound was coming from, you found the phone under your pillow as you flipped it up, seeing Harry’s name across the screen.

“Hello,” your voice was a bit shaky, after you had accepted the call and pressed the phone to your ear. Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling and rubbed the back of your hand over your eyes, no doubt smudging the makeup you’d completely forgotten about.

“Did I wake you?” Harry sounded like he was on speakerphone.

“It’s okay,” you cleared your throat.

“How was work?” His voice sounded clearer now.

“Busy,” you sighed. “People are stupid on holidays.”

“Too tired to keep plans for tonight?”

Your lips curved lightly, already feeling better at the lightness in his tone. “Thought you were mad at me.”

“Couldn’t be,” you could hear the smile in his own voice. “I’m sorry – for last night. I’m frustrated with my work and well, I was being petty, and selfish with your time –”

He cut himself off, as you raised yourself up over the mattress again to search for your phone charger.  “Not your fault,” you hummed, after plugging the phone in. “I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be – can’t be mad at you for doing your job. So it’s a yes for tonight?”

You bit back your smile, even though he couldn’t see you. “Suppose so. It is Valentine’s day, isn’t it?”

“It is, yeah. And I don’t want to give too much away but I have a few things planned for us.”

“Bit of a romantic, aren’t you?”

You heard him laugh through the phone. “Been told that once or twice, yeah.”

Smiling, you bit the inside of your cheek. “What time?”

“Did you still want to lie down for a bit?”

He knew you well. “I can come to yours in an hour or so,” he continued, “and then we can head to the store together to grab some groceries.”

“That sound’s good,” you said, happy to hear you had a little more time to lie in bed.

“So I’ll see you in a bit?” He confirmed, as you checked the time on your phone and thought that maybe you should set an alarm, in case you fell back asleep.

“You will.”

After saying your goodbyes, you spent a few minutes checking your notifications before sleep sneaked back up on you. Another nap that felt like it could’ve been five minutes or five minutes took over your body, but the next time you woke up, you finally felt rested. In fact, you woke up with a smiling tugging at the corner of your mouth, giddy for the night you had planned with your partner.

Rolling onto your back, the calm you felt was quickly interrupted.

“Jesus!”

Your heart leapt through your throat. Quickly lifting your top half over the mattress, you let your weight rest on your elbows as the duvet bunched around you.

Harry was sitting on the other side of your bed, opened book in hand with his legs extended out over the duvet. His eyes were wide on yours, your exclamation clearly startling him as well.

You saw his mouth part, a gleam in his eyes as he peered down at where you were watching him with wide eyes. “Not quite.”

You felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, trying to calm yourself down from the shock of seeing Harry, or anyone else for that matter, sitting in your bed.

He offered you a small smile with a quirk in his lips, placing his book down next to him and cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to startle you –”

You fell back against the mattress, lying on your back as you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t anything new – him letting himself into your place. You each had the other’s set of keys, but this was surely a first that he had sat himself down next to you while you slept.

“When did you get here?”

He checked his phone, before glancing back at you. “About ten minutes ago – looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”

“Well thank you for that,” you rolled your head on your pillow, smiling up at him. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

Watching as the corner of his lips perked, he returned your sentiment. “Happy Valentine’s to you too,” he hummed, leaning over the small space between the both of you to press a light kiss over your lips.

He wrapped a hand around your shoulders, leaning down to kiss you once more. “Sorry again,” he murmured over your mouth.

You both pulled away with matching small smiles. “Let me go get ready,” murmuring quietly, you slowly pulled the warm comforter off your body. “I’ll be fast.”

Quickly crawling out from under the covers, going to get ready. You freshened up your makeup that had been rubbed off in your sleep, soft hues to accentuate your features as you took a little longer than planned when you attempted a different kind of eye look with your eyeliner.

Finishing with a small outfit change that you had already planned out ahead of time, a red silky skirt that hit just above your ankles, paired with a nice knit pink top that had little ties holding the front closed. You looked like Valentine’s Day had threw up over you and you loved it.

You were both soon exiting your apartment, hand in hand to the grocery store, and then back to his place for a nice dinner date together.

You had already planned on making a creamy quiche, filled with vegetables and a golden buttery crust. The dough had already been made ahead of time, only needing to take it out of the fridge so it could warm up a bit before filling it with all you wanted.

Wine had been poured, both already on your second glass by the time your dinner was in the oven.

Both impatient and wanting to exchange gifts, you sat yourselves down on the couch and handed each other your wrapped presents. Deciding on lowkey gifts, the two of you both having the same idea of gifting each other flowers as two bouquets now sat in vases on Harry’s windowsill.

He had gifted you a journal, thick paper bound together with a custom cover of his own art that he had gotten printed on a soft vellum. It was one your favourite painting of his, soft oranges that blended with light purples in a beautiful sun kissed sky. Vague outline of two silhouettes sat on the lower corner, two figures that blended with quiet blues and held each other close on a glowing empty street – two silhouettes who he always told you were the both of you.

Your gift to him was a thick light blue sweater, adorned with a small pattern of purple hearts over the front. You had immediately thought of him when you found it. Wanting to make it even more special, in orange thread you had embroidered the word “loved” right over the spot that would rest on his heart. He’d immediately pulled it over his head to wear.

Dinner had been followed by chocolate covered strawberries, those of which you had attempted to make yourself but had found to be not as easy as initially thought, a small mess of melted chocolate covering his kitchen counter to be delt with later. But that didn’t matter all that much not when you were sharing them with Harry.

Now you were both seated on the couch, a soft glow of candlelight around you mixed with the light coming from outside. You and Harry were curled up close together, both unable to stop looking at each other with heart shaped eyes.

“I’ve never really had a real Valentine’s day,” you’d told him, pouring yourself another glass of wine.

“Glad I could give you one,” he grinned at you, voice sounding melodic in your ears as couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked particular good, his hair falling softly around his sharp features, brand new seater fitting perfectly over his chest. “Though I think it’s you who makes it special.”

You only laughed lightly, both the wine and his words making your head spin. You were sat across from each other on the couch knees pressed together with the occasional brush of a hand over the other’s leg, like two magnets who had to touch each other.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he chuckled with his eyes narrowed on yours.

“Like what?”

“You know like what,” he swirled the rest of the wine that sat in his glass, tilting it back against his lips to swallow the rest of it.

Choosing not to answer him, you instead leant forward closer to him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped down to the expand of skin that led to the lowcut neckline of your shirt.

He mirrored you move, sitting forward and slowly closing the distance between the both of you. Your eyes dropped to his hand that had gone to rest over your knee, not thinking much as you rested your fingertips over his and traced the lines over his hand.

“I was thinking,” he hummed, hand dancing over your thigh.

You only nodded, watching him closely as you waited for him to continue.

“Remember our first date?”

You raised your glass to take a sip of the dark red alcohol. “Course I do,” you answered. “When you invited me over to paint?”

Harry nodded. Lifting an arm to rest over the back of the couch, you subconsciously shifted closer into his open side. “What do you say to doing that again?”

“You want to paint with me again?” You nudged his side with your elbow, a light teasing tone in your words. “With your muse?”

“I’m serious,” he laughed with a small shake in his chest. He rose from where he was sat next to you, going over to the corner of the room where he kept his boxes and drawers of supplies.

You rose from your relaxed position, sitting up straight on the couch. “You mean right now?”

He glanced over at you from over his shoulder, digging through his things for what he needed. “Why not?”

“Clothes are too nice to get paint on,” you laughed lightly, watching him pull out a small canvas and fully turn to face you.

“You don’t have to paint,” he murmured, walking back over to you and leaned down so that his face was at level with yours. “How about I paint you,” he pressed his lips to yours, “since y’look so pretty.”

“Sweet talker,” you hummed over his mouth, and he pressed one more peck to your lips before pulling away. “Where do you want me?”

“Where you are is good,” he shifted back from the couch, settling a short distance away from you with all he needed to paint. “Sit back – relax.”

Doing as he said, you watched as he got himself organized and was soon bending over a little blank canvas and laying colour reds and pinks all over it.

You were both quiet for a while – you watching him, and him dividing his time between watching you and the soft strokes of his brush over the canvas. Only the quiet hums of Vashti Bunyan filled the space of the room.

At one point, sweet soft little Cherry had bounced up onto the couch and sat with you for a moment as you covered her in affection, before she decided she didn’t want to be seen anymore and promptly left.

You had fallen into a small daze, not a tired one but a relaxed one, nearly entranced by the way Harry moved the brush so swiftly and delicately over the canvas.

After a while, you didn’t know how long, he murmured your name, head still looking down as he spoke lowly.

Only humming in response, you looked over at him as you watched his eyes flick up to yours.

“Skirts riding up a bit,” he spoke slowly, watching you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Oops,” you murmured quietly, “didn’t want me to move that much, right?”

He shook is head. “Don’t mind –” he shot you a sly little smile, and it could’ve just been the dim lighting but you were sure to have caught a little blush grace his cheeks.

You shifted your legs again, sliding your calves under your bum with a tilt to your torso, as the hem of the skirt rode up a bit higher. You saw Harry glance back down, as you were unable to help the teasing tone in your voice. “What is it?”

“Just distracting is all,” he didn’t look up at you but you could see the roundness in his cheeks that suggested his grin.

“Yeah?” You spoke lightly, moving again while you rose a hand to tug on one of the ties at the top of your blouse, pulling it open to reveal more of your chest. “Wouldn’t want that –”

He glanced at you as you cut yourself off, a short second of heavy eyes on you, following the gap that the fabric created with a dip down to the top of your breasts. You saw him pause, momentarily distracted before he looked back down to his painting with a shake to his head.

It was like that for a short while, a slow quiet game as Harry took longer and longer glances at you and you slowly teased him with soft movements. It was nearly embarrassing how easily you could get worked up over a simple stare, the intensity of his gaze that skimmed over your body always seemed to completely light you on fire.

Though it was him who gave in first, the painting not going nearly as smoothly as it was when he first started as he felt unable to think clearly, mind only occupied with thoughts of you. He found himself focusing on the curve of your lips, the dip of your chest, the way your eyes softened when his gaze met yours – he was unable to do anything but think about you.

Eventually, he placed his brush in his little cup of water, glancing back up at you for a beat before speaking. “D’you know what else I remember from our first date?”

Seeing him rise to his feet, he stretched out his legs before taking the few steps needed to be standing directly in front of you. You only looked up at him, tilting your chin up and watched him hover in front of you. He leant down and placed a hand on either side of you, palms dipping into the couch cushions.

When he leant lower so that his face was level with yours, you straightened out your spine a bit to sit completely parallel to him. He got impossibly close, tip of his nose about to brush over yours if you were to move half an inch.

“What else?” You whispered, watching as Harry flicked his eyes down to watch your mouth form the words.

“How it ended,” he closed the short distance, lips pressing over yours as when he spoke.

“You walking me home?” You pulled your head back an inch, eyes meeting his once again.

“Hmm,” he thought for a second. “The middle then.”

“May have to jog my memory,” you murmured, watching his lips curve up a bit before placing another kiss to your mouth.

You easily deepened the kiss, reaching a hand around him to grab over the back of his neck to pull him in for more. He remained hovering over you with his hands over the couch, mouths parting when you licked over his lips.

He tasted like the strawberries you had shared, a fruity sweetness mixed with the slightly bitter dark chocolate. You were sure you tasted the same – you wondered if you had a distinct taste that mingled with his when you kissed. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his neck to brush your fingertips over the warm skin.

He leant into your touch, shifting closer in so that his face could be at level with your own. He easily deepened the kiss, one hand rising from where it was supporting him and cupped your cheek with a firm grip to tilt your chin up to his.

“Mm,” he hummed softly over your mouth, pulling away from you for a beat. He bent his knees and sank down to the floor in front of you, and you followed his movements with your own, head tilting down to remain at level with his.

“Started a bit like this, didn’t it?” Your lips perked at his words, feeling his other hand move up over the couch and onto your hip, hands freed to grab at you all he wanted now that he didn’t need to support himself up.

“Think I need a little more to remember,” you told him, feeling his fingers knead over the silky fabric of your skirt and into your rounded skin.

He gladly complied, craning his neck up so that your mouths could reconnect.

You felt hot under his touch. His thumb was tracing the soft line of your jaw until it was gliding the curve of your bottom lip, while his other hand circled around the small of you back and tugged you closer towards the end of the couch, closer to him.

You sighed affectionately into his mouth as he rested his forearms over your folded legs. He was pressing his weight over you, a welcomed touch that had you leaning in closer as you sought out more of his mouth.

Pulling away with a small suck over his bottom lip, you watched his eyelids slowly part open to gaze up at you with darkened eyes.

“Wait right here,” he muttered, suddenly standing up and walking away from you with a quick pace in his step. You watched him move to the kitchen, the expanse of his back was the only thing visible to you from around the corner. You heard him run the tap for a moment before turning it off, and he was back in front of you just as fast. Settling himself back on his knees between your parted legs, his hands wasted no time before feeling your bare skin once more.

You suddenly felt a flush overtake your body, at the realization of what he had just done. At the realization that he had just washed the paint from his hands.

“Are you done painting for now?” You rose one of your hands up and traced the line of his cheek as you spoke, fingertips rising to push back some of the hair that was falling over his forehead.

“Well, you are a pretty convincing distraction, sunshine,” he kissed over your chin, urging you to tilt your head up while his lips slipped down your neck. His wet mouth suckled over your skin, while one of his hands traipsed over your hips, doing his best to wrap his arm around them to tug you closer.

He suddenly pulled away, just as his teeth nipped at the skin above your collarbone while his hot breath warmed your chest. “I think that first time was,” he muttered, head hanging low between your two bodies, watching his hands flatten over your thighs. He squeezed your knee, urging you to unfold your legs and part them around him. “More like this.”

You did as he silently asked, bringing your legs out from under your bum and swung your claves over the edge of the couch. With your knees perfectly parted, Harry easily stayed where he was in front of you now encased between your legs.

Instead of skimming his hands over the fabric of your skirt like you thought he would, he instead rested his chin on the corner of your leg and brought his fingers up over the waistband and on to the skin that was hidden under your shirt. You watched in quiet anticipation as he raised the knit blouse up a bit higher, all while his breath heated your legs.

“You’re the sweetest thing, know that?” Harry murmured, twisting his head so that his lips could smooth over the spot above your knee.

You whined under his touch, feeling his mouth press higher on the inside of your thighs while your skirt slowly inched up, nearly completely exposing you.  

You placed your palms on the back of his hands that held your waist, grabbing a hold of his fingers to bring them lower down your body. He easily complied, gripping the silky fabric that covered your hips in his fingers as he slowly eased it up higher. He followed the hem of your skirt with his eyes, as more and more skin got exposed to him until the fabric was completely bunched up around the edge of your thighs.

You shifted over the couch, allowing the garment to move past your bum until it was bunched just bellow your waist. You didn’t move your eyes away from Harry, watching as his hands dropped to hold your bare thighs, his own eyes glued to your newly exposed centre.

“Sunshine,” his voice was breathless as his hands held the skirt over your form. “What’s all this?”

“It’s new,” you whispered, revelling in the way his warm hands moved over the curve of your hips and onto the delicate underwear that covered you. You keened into his touch, feeling hot under his hungry eyes. “Thought of you when I found it –”

He groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding around your soft skin until his fingers were brushing over the thin straps around your hips “Baby,” he said lowly, watching the way the swell of the skin moved under his touch. “For me?”

The underwear was a light blue mesh fabric, with thin straps that rose high over your hips and tied shut with little bows. In small patterns that covered the expanse of the front, was a delicate embroidery in light whites and oranges; a trail of white little flowers paired with bunches of oranges.

You bent forward, searching for his mouth as your fingers lightly held his jaw to move him closer to where you wanted him. He craned his neck up, mouth immediately finding yours, kissing you hotly while his hands roamed over your skin.

“Please tell me there’s a matching top,” he muttered into your mouth, fingers tugging at your blouse.

You placed your hands over his, promptly removing your shirt. He pulled back from you, sitting on his heals, watching you with heavy eyes while you pulled the soft fabric over your head and tossed it aside.

His hands remained firm over your hips, eyes eating up inch of your skin. He quietly dragged his fingertips up your sides, dragging them up onto the underside of your breasts as he watched the swell of skin move under his touch.

“Like it?” You hummed, meeting his dark eyes with a tilt of your chin.

The top matched the bottom, underwire of the bra keeping your breasts up as the cups were thin and sheer, covered in the same small colourful embroidered of oranges and flowers. Harry lightly traced the patterns with his fingertips, wanting to feel every inch of the bra.

He didn’t answer you, and only leaned in closer so that he could press his lips over your stomach, soft smoothing movements up to your sternum while his hands palmed over your breasts. He followed the embroidered detailing over your pebbled nipple with light teasing touches.

“You’re a dream,” his hot beath sent a shiver down your spine, lips smoothing back down once more as his hands got a firm grip over your thighs.  “Nothing I love more –” he inhaled deeply, “than being between your leg like this.”

He completely bypassed where you hoped he would end up, instead kissing up over the inside of your legs, hands smoothing on your thighs to give him more access. He dug his digits into the soft skin, lips replacing his touch as hot open-mouthed kisses licked over the sensitive spots.

You knew where he was headed, you knew he loved to play this game with you, but you were growing a bit impatient as he sucked into the inside of your thighs, no doubt leaving marks that would bruise a purplish red tomorrow.

“Baby-“

“Baby what?” He muttered over your thigh, loud kiss on the skin. “What d’you want? Tell me,” his tongue licked over your skin, a small nip of his teeth over the sensitive skin.

“Your mouth,” you whimpered, hands smoothing over his the crook of his shoulder and up over his neck in search for his hair to tug on.

“Where?” His breath was oh so hot, fanning over your skin in a way that you were sure would light you on fire if he continued. His fingertips toyed with the thin fabric that covered you, snapping the elastic over your skin as your breath hitched in your throat.

“You know –” you choked, feeling a new wave of heat shoot through your stomach when his hands wrapped around your thighs. “Just like our first date, right?”

“Right,” his chest shook with a soundless laugh, hands reaching behind to hold over your bum and tugging you even closer to him. He was so close you could feel the soft breaths of air leave his nose and tickle the crest of your thighs. You were sure that there was a wet spot forming over your new underwear, visible to the man between your thighs. “Want me to taste you, just like the first time?”

You hummed in the air, unable to form a proper sentence when his tongue poked out from his lips and he pressed it flat against your covered core.

“Was that,” he pulled his mouth away far to fast, “when you knew?”

His fingers were tugging at the soft straps that were tight around your hips, easing the fabric down ever so slowly. You let out a breathy sigh, “what?”

Moving his head back, Harry kept his eyes glued to the skin his fingers were uncovering. “Was that when you knew you liked me?”

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, as you rose your hips up so that he could ease the flimsy material down your thighs. “That wasn’t it.”

He was so enthralled with the sight of you in front of him, that there was a slight lag while he processed your words. Moving back as your underwear hung just above your knees, glancing up to meet your gaze through heavy eyelids.

His swollen lips pouted. “When was it, then?”

Smiling down at your lover, your fingers found their way over his cheek once again, trailing over the curve of his cheekbone and down to his jaw. “When you kept bugging me at work,” you laughed slightly at the memory, “and when you wanted to stay and close the shop with me.”

Another kiss to your thigh. “And I really knew when you brought me those mandarin oranges.”

His eyes bore into yours, another exaggerated pout of his mouth. “That was after.”

“Well,” you hummed, nails scratching over his scalp, “had to make sure, didn’t I?”

“Guess you did,” he leant in even closer, a kiss right at the crest of your thigh that had your breath hitching in your throat.

You saw him move, but it was still a small shock when his mouth was felt over your folds. After a light lick of his tongue, he was pulling away within seconds.

He urged your legs to further part for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull to spread you wider. His mouth was back on you within seconds, tongue pushing against your clit with slow licks over the sensitive nub.

Mouth widening over your centre, tasting more of your arousal. A quiet moan escaped your mouth when he circled his lips over your clit, sucking with quiet determination.  

He had one hand gripping into your thigh, sure to be little crescent moon shapes left behind from his nails that would be indented as a reminder for how good he makes you feel. You let your head fall back, hitting the back of the couch with a near uncomfortable bend to your back, but you didn’t care. One of your hands was still mussing up his hair, tugging at the soft strands when his mouth felt particularly good against your clit.

Your other hand was being blindly sought after by Harry’s own palm, eyes glanced up through his eyelashes to meet your own with a sly smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. He seemed to wordlessly speaking to you, quiet lustful gazes before delving back in with slow, teasing movements through your folds.

His palm fit over the back of your hand. He held over you, moving your pliable hand to turn it in his grasp, fingers dancing with yours all while you both pushed into the seat of the couch.

“Hold m’hand,” his voice was muffled over your cunt, soft vibrations shooting up your spine both at the feeling of him speaking and the tenderness of his words.

You easily interlocked your fingers, palms pressed together as you dug your nails in the back of his hand when his tongue was back searching for the arousal that was dripping over your skin.

His moves into your cunt were slow, too slow. Tongue flattening over your folds with deep pushes into you, before soft teasing circles were graced over your clit. You were arching your back over the couch, hips seeking his mouth as you quietly begged for more. He alternated between pushing just over the entrance of your hole, sliding through the wet mess and up to your clit to pull beautiful moans from you.

“Taste so sweet,” his groaned, as you whimpered for more. “D’you like it when I eat your sweet little cunt like this?”

You rolled your hips up at his words. He often muttered sweet confessions of love, and dirty little thoughts. But when he got like this, when his words turned you to a mess of a puddle while he indulged the both of you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting under him.

The two of you had a certain kind of completeness when you had sex – a passionate unity that worked together. He would let you take charge when you wanted, so attentive to what you needed and loving nothing more than seeing you get off.

But sometimes you set off a certain stir deep in his stomach, that had him wanting to pin you down and be as unrelenting as he could until you were screaming his name.

His desire grew the louder you got, the desire to make you come and the desire for you¸ as simple as that. Every sweet vibration through your chest, every quiet whimper and every call of his name that you unashamedly whimpered out. He knew the more he teased the more desperate you’d get, and he also knew it wouldn’t take much asking on your part for him to give in to anything you wanted.

After a particularly harsh tug to his hair, he lifted his mouth from where it was paying you attention and you let out an even louder whine in the absence of his touch.  

“Harry,” you moaned sweetly, your eyes boring into his, both holding intense stares while you were positively begging for him. “Please make me come.”

His lips brushed over your thigh once again, looking up at you through his eyelashes as you pleaded for him to touch you. He didn’t say anything, and instead dragged his free hand around your thigh and to your centre, until he had two fingers dragged through the wetness created both by your arousal and his saliva.

You let out a heavy breath at the touch, chest quickly rising and falling while your heartbeat thundered in your ears. Harry watched as the swell of your breasts strained against the soft blue fabric, pausing for a moment as he wanted to keep your fingers interlocked but also wanted to feel up the skin of your chest.

Deciding on the former, he kept your hands together and pressed the back of your hand further into the cushions of the couch. His other hand was trailing lower, his fingers now slick with you around your entrance before he pushed into you with ease.

You moaned under his touch, the fullness of his fingers inside of you had you twisting your hips over the couch as you ached to feel him hit that delicious spot inside of you.

His mouth was back over the inside of your thighs, your skin burning under his touch when he kissed over the little red marks that he had earlier made, just as they were starting to darken in colour. He was all over you at once open lips back over your clit and licking deeply with determined moves of his tongue over you. His fingers slowly began to move inside of you, curling the two digits up as he gained a steady pace and repeatedly hit that smooth spongey spot inside of you that made your vision blur and your toes curl.

You were having trouble keeping your eyes open, letting your head fall back once more as your free hand pulled at his hair, subconsciously matching the brushes of your hand with his slow strokes. Your other hand was pulling at Harry’s, squeezing it so tightly as he was working you up.

The familiar burning in your lower belly was growing hotter and hotter, tight coil getting closer to snapping. You could feel his nose pressed against your pelvis, his chin bumping his own fingers after particularly harsh thrusts – he was completely buried between your thighs. You were sure to be making a mess over his lower face, the thought making you squirm even more in his touch.

Letting out a loud gasp at the low vibrations that were felt when Harry moaned, when he muttered quiet words that demanded all of your attention to figure out what he was saying.

“This what you wanted, sunshine?” He pulled his lips away, loud kisses over your thighs as he watched you slowly unravel under him, refusing to keep his mouth off any part of you.

He couldn’t choose where he wanted to keep his gaze. At your soft blissed out face with your lips under your teeth and fluttering eyelids, or at the expanse of your chest with the beautiful garment that graced your skin, or right in front of him at your swollen cunt that was shining in arousal and at the way his fingers sank into of you.

The music was still softly playing the background, a quiet secondary noise to every melodic moan that was sounding from your throat, the music in fact all but forgotten when obscenely wet sounds filled the space once more.

“Oh – Harry,” you moaned when his tongue was back over you, knowing you were growing closer to your release from the way you clenched around his fingers.

“Feels good?” He asked, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You whined with a nod, holding onto him as tightly as you could. “So good – fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking up when your climax was right around the corner. Words were spilling from your mouth, sentences jumbling without much sense. “Love you so –”

He hummed over you, his hand giving yours a few quick squeezes as he felt you clench around his fingers. Again, he murmured something that you couldn’t even begin to make out, focusing on his touch rather than his words.

“Y’love me?” His voice rang through yours ear, suddenly louder than your thundering heartbeat.

“Yeah,” your voice was a dreamy breath of air. “I do.”

He mumbled something that sounded like a “fucking love you,” before you were meeting your release against his mouth and around his fingers. He didn’t relent, mouth hot and open over you with continuous tugs to your clit as his fingers pushed so deeply inside of you.

You moaned low in your chest as you came, every touch of his skin on yours sending electricity through your nerves. Your legs jolted from around him at the sensitivity of your clit, as he kept sliding his tongue over the bundle of nerves while you calmed down from your orgasm.

Eyes parting open, you saw Harry pull away from between your legs as he fully sat back on his legs and withdrew his fingers from you. With his fingertips trailing down your thighs, he rose his slicked fingers up to his mouth to taste every last bit of you.

Your breath was coming out unevenly, and you nearly moaned at the erotic sight before you. His wet lips kissed your knee once more, his voice was low, laced with desire when he spoke your name. “How was that?”

You didn’t answer right away, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook with a happy laugh. Pushing yourself up from the couch, you used all the strength in your shaky legs to slide off the furniture and into the lap of your lover.  

“Just like the first time,” you breathed, words fanning over his chin as he easily held you in an embrace.

He felt like he was losing feeling in his legs, small soreness in his knees so he shifted you over him until he was able to extend his legs out over the floor and you could straddle his thighs. Completely removing the skirt, you tossed it aside as you were left in only your lingerie. Upon his request, you had slid your underwear back on instead of letting it fall to the floor. He hummed against you when you easily fell back into each other, lips seeking your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

Slowly grinding your hips over his, every inch of him hard underneath you could be felt. Harry rolled his head back on his neck, exposing the expanse of skin to you as you repeated the motion over his hips.

Taking the chance to lean in closer, your lips landed over his neck in light sucks of kisses. “Love you,” he whispered into the air, fingertips digging into the skin of your waist.

“Yeah?” You hummed over his skin, licking a strip up the column of his neck. One of your hands danced along his throat, tracing down until your fingers were following the dip of his collarbone and circling around his back. “Do you?”

“You have no idea,” he breathed, chin dipping down once again as his nose nudged yours when he sought out your lips.

Leaving kiss up over his cheek, you didn’t stop until your teeth lightly tugged at his earlobe. “How do you want me?”

You felt his hands brush along your bare back, slow and steady movements that juxtaposed with both of your rapidly beating hearts.

“Pull me out, angel,” he already felt your hands playing with the waistband of his pants, soft tugs at the rough fabric.

As your fingers made quick work to pull at the zipper of his trousers, he momentarily lifted his hands from your body so that he could pull his shirt up over his head. His skin was warm when he wrapped his arms around once again, shifting his hips so that you could move his pants and briefs down together in one swift move.

Having to lift off him so that you could completely let the clothes fall from his legs, you pushed the heap of fabric aside before quickly settling back into his lap. His cock looked painfully hard, a soft curve upwards that led to his raspberry red tip.

Your hands were on him within seconds, bowing your head in the small space between the two of you. Pursing your lips, you let spit fall from your mouth and onto his length. Sliding your hands over the wetness, Harry gently groaned your name with a tight grab at your hips when you squeezed him in your grasp.

“Please,” he quietly cursed, watching you with darkened eyes as another moan tumbled from his mouth. “Wanna feel you –”

You pressed a kiss over his cupid’s bow. “Like this?” You smiled gently against his mouth, “on the floor?”

He returned your smile hands on either side of you as he tried to pull you closer to where he wanted you sat over him. “Just like our first date, yeah?”

Breathy laugh at his words, you slowly nodded and shifted your hips higher. You were about to grab at the elastics of your underwear, going to pull them back down over your hips but Harry was quick to stop you. “Keep ‘em on,” he whispered, silly little smirk playing at his lips, “just push them aside.”

Folding your lips into your mouth, you bit back a smile as you knew he’d ask you to keep the bra on as well. Doing as he wanted, you rose a hand from his shoulder to pull the front of your underwear to the side, with the other hand still keeping a firm grasp over his cock. He was supporting himself up with on hand on the floor behind him, so that he could remain so close to you. His legs bent at the knee, making you edge towards him with your chests nearly pressed together, and the soft move prompted you to slide the head of his cock through your folds.

Easing him in with a slow move, you lowered your hips as he filled you so deeply until you were sat completely flush together. His chest shook with a moan as you did so, hands squeezing into your thighs as you both sat motionless for a moment.

He fit so deeply into you, with the slight stretch that always felt brand new. You rose your hands to wrap around his shoulders, nails nearly clawing at his skin to pull him in for a kiss.

“You feel perfect,” he moaned against your mouth, guiding your hips to urge you to move in small grinds over his. “Squeezing me so tight.”

With you both sat upright, he always felt even deeper inside of you in this position. You ground your hips in slow circles, starting to move in teasing grinds, before lifting yourself up over him and then back down in a sharper thrust than you’d intended.

You moaned over him, head falling into the crook of his neck as you muttered something about how deep he felt inside of you.

Repeating the motion, Harry planted his feet over the floor with an even greater bend to his legs that had your seated so fully against him. He met your moves, slow and sharp thrusts between your legs that already had you working towards a second orgasm.

One of his hands skimmed over your hips, sliding between your bodies with as his fingers applied a light pressure to your lower belly. His voice was gravelly when he moaned into your cheek. “Feel me right here?”

“Yeah,” you sighed dreamily, eyes shutting close with a harsh bite to your bottom lip. You tilted your head back up, another deep thrust inside of you. “Always so deep.”

Harry’s hand found its way to your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing gentle action. He quietly urged you to open your eyes for him, to stare into his as he wanted you to see how good you were making him feel.

You saw him with slightly bloodshot eyes, cheeks tinted pink and a light dewiness to his skin. He looked so completely blissed out, corner of his swollen lips turned to a sly smile. Bowing his head down, he attached his lips to your collarbone and left a trail of wet marks over your skin until his teeth were nipping at the swell of your breasts that were spilling out from the top of your bra.

Arching your back in his touch, you slowed the movements of your hips again and went back slow rutting, clenching around him when he whined your name with a matching squeeze of his hand that had found its hold on your hip once more.

Without much warning, he lowered himself to lay completely on the floor, back resting over the soft rug as he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up any longer. He let his knees bent further with his feet on the floor, keeping you in your place as he was able to hit slow teasing thrusts up into you.

His eyes never left you, watching you sat so beautifully as both his hands now grabbed at your hips, guiding you over him. He found it hard to look away from where you were connected, watching his slick cock disappear inside of you. “So gorgeous, sunshine,” he was muttered quietly, “how did I get so lucky?”

Both of your motions were speeding up again, his thrusts meeting yours harder than before as he found that his release was coming right around the corner. He reveled in the way his name sounded from your mouth, as you clenched tightly around him with your own orgasm seeming to approach as well.

You had flattened out your hands over the expanse of his chest, giving yourself leverage while you moved over his length. Your head hung low, nails digging into his skin when he hit that spot inside of you that made your breathing falter. “Oh…!” You whimpered wetly, “there, there please.”

His stomach clenched tightly at your cries, feeling you squeeze around him his fingers matched the squeeze around your hips. He kept going, watching you fall more and more into a whimpering mess over him until he felt like he was about to explode.

“Slow down,” he choked, a harsh hold of your thighs in an attempt to stop your rapid moves. “Slow down,” he chanted, wild moves of his eyes between your own. “Stay like this for a moment.”

Doing as he asked, you completely halted and gave yourself a moment to catch your breath. Bending down, you laid completely on top of him which gave a nice ease to your knees. Pressing your chest flush to his, your chins bumped as you smiled down at him.

He didn’t miss any more time before pressing his sweet lips over yours, kissing you with all the desire that was apparent in his eyes. Your lips parted as he pushed his tongue against yours, tasting each other for what was probably the thousandth time but it always felt like the first.

Your arms were easily all over him, nails digging into the muscles of his arms as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back with a tug to your bottom lip with his teeth, licking over the sensitive skin after releasing the plump skin.

“My sunshine,” he hummed, lips capturing your chin as he moved further down your body. Kissing over your jaw, a soft bit over just under your earlobe as he knew every spot that made you whine.

With his hands guiding your hips, you slowly began to move around him once more. Straightening out your spine to rise to a seated position, you watched as one of Harry’s hands moved forward to cup over your core, right above where you were connected.

“Won’t last much longer,” he whimpered, already working right back near his edge as soon as you started sinking back down on him.

You moaned in agreement, also easily getting worked closer to your release when he dragged his fingers over your clit in quick circles. You were both finding another steady rhythm, hips pumping together as the noise of your actions filled the room, only seeming to spur you on.

“Please come for me again,” he moaned, begging to feel you squeeze him dry. “Wanna feel you – please.”

It was like something was opened inside of you, meeting your release as he begged from under you. Moaning his name with heaving breaths, feeling your walls clench around him when your orgasm took over your body. Your thighs tensed, eyes squeezing shut with a little smile painting your mouth at the euphoria coursing through your body.

“Fuck – it’s gonna be,” your movements had slowed over him as you came, while Harry spluttered nearly incoherently, “– I’m coming.” He warned, a sharp thrust up into you before he was painting your walls with his release. Sloppy thrusts inside of you while pulling at your hips, grabbing over the small of your back to hug you close while calling your name over and over like it was a song that was stuck in his head.

Your chest fell over his with a heaviness that neither of you minded, revelling the complete closeness you had to the other in that moment. His chest was rising and falling with quick breaths, lips over your hairline as he peppered the lightest of kisses laced with praises for you.

Eventually, you lifted your upper half and parted your eyes to gaze down at the man below you. Pressing your mouth over his, you felt him smile under your touch as you murmured a soft, “happy Valentine’s Day.”

His own eyes parted, watching you with nothing but love his in softened eyes, as you pressed another whisper to his mouth. “Thank you for being my Valentine.”

You’d always felt comfortable with Harry, but for some reason at this moment you felt better than you ever had with him. The way he looked at you like you hung the moon, the way he softly whispered your name as his lips sought to touch any part of you.

Harry returned the affection, quiet “I love you’s” pressed into your skin before you were moving off of him with shaky legs.

He followed when you rose to your feet, the painting long forgotten by now as you both went to the washroom to get cleaned up. Your makeup had been ruined once more, eyeliner smudged by your teary eyes so you ended up scrubbing it all off, completely your skincare before changing into a cozy stolen hoodie and settled into your partner’s bed.

Harry soon joined, only in a pair of sweatpants and the forgotten chocolates from earlier in hand. He settled in under the covers with you, as you both shared chocolates and chocolate flavoured kisses.

“How about you,” you started with a quiet murmur as your head rested over Harry’s shoulder. The chocolates were on your lap, one of Harry’s arms around you as peered down at you. “When did you know you liked me?”

You saw Harry’s lips perk from the corner of your eye. He thought it over for barely a second, before answering. “Is it too cheesy to say the first time I saw you?”

Nodding your head with a little laugh, although you melted further into him at the tenderness of his words. “Yes, it is too cheesy.”

“Fine,” his lips pursed with an overly dramatic pout, and he took another minute to think. “When I ran into you at the supermarket that one evening,” he thought back to the memory, “I remember seeing you choosing your vegetables like it was the most important decision of your life.”

You tilted your face, easily finding his lips to press a light little kiss to. “Well, maybe it was,” you whispered playfully, as he leant into your mouth when you pulled away.

Resting your temple of the curve of his shoulder once more, you kept your eyes trained on him. Harry held your gaze, mumbling quietly as his hands squeezed your arm. “You’re still looking at me like that.”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, unable to help the way your pupils were probably heart shaped at the moment. “Like what?”

“You know like what.”

Your smile deepened. “Can’t help it.”

Sighing happily next to him, you melted a bit more into his side as he held you closer. His lips smoothed over the top of your head, mumbling sweetly, “me neither, sunshine.”

Once again, the sweet little act of painting had led to something magical, a feeling of blissful joy you’d never thought possible until Harry came along.

once again, happy valentines to everyone 💕 thank you for reading 💕

[exovapor]

The Adventure - TMNT Bitches:  chapter 10

CHAPTER 10:  Through the Looking Glass  

·         The four brothers exit the parking deck and are immediately overwhelmed by the steady stream of people walking to and fro.  Donnie has his eyes glued to his virtual display while Leo and Mikey each take up flanking positions on either side of him to guard his shoulders so he doesn’t trip over the crowds walking past.

·         “Oh no-no-no, this is not good!”, Donnie exclaims while panning left and right with his display, trying to find the trail that is quickly disappearing right before his eyes.

·         “What is it, Donnie?”, Leo asks, the concern thick in his voice.

·         Donnie frantically pans in a wider arch, but the trail is fading too quickly.  The flow of the foot traffic is causing too much interference and the particle stream is all but faded away, “Leo, I think we have a problem here.  The portal residue isn’t as clear down here on the street as I had hoped.  I’ve lost the trail”.

·         “Great! Now what?”, Raph’s towering figure grumbles from behind them all, where he has taken of the posterior position to keep people from walking dead-straight into Donnie as he stands stationary in the middle of a river of people.

·         “Give me a minute to think, Raph”, Leo chides but he’s feeling his own sense of panic rising. He’s never been claustrophobic, after all he lives under ground, but here with all these bodies pressing in around them, jostling past them, the serum keeping them in human form already on its count-down clock, and their one clue to follow Shredder is literally disappearing before their eyes, he’s never felt so out of his element…so not ready to lead.  However, he doesn’t have the option to quit, to flake out, his brothers are looking to him for guidance.

·         Leo studies their surroundings, the people, the activity….and then he sees it, the thing that gives him a new idea, a new possible solution to their dilemma.  He’s watching people all over pulling out their cell phones to take pictures of each other’s costumes, to stream and vlog about their adventures as they walk down the street, “Donnie, can you search through the media flowing around this event?  Maybe we’ll get lucky can catch a glimpse of Shredder in the background of someone’s post.”.

·         “Can I? Psssshhh.  Does Mikey like pizza?”, Donnie throws Leo a sassy glance before flipping through his virtual screens again.  Almost as soon as he starts flipping and searching the data streams, a ping comes from his computer, then another, and another, “Oh boy, BINGO!”, Donnie exclaims.

·         Mikey leans in close from Donnie’s right shoulder, omitting the concept of personal space, and nearly blocking Donnie’s field of vision of the display, “Dude…that’s Shredder!”.

·         “I KNOW, Mikey”, Donnie says and grabs Mikey’s cute little human face with his large left hand and pushes him back a few inches in order to have some breathing room, “it’s a video that’s quickly going viral of an altercation between Shedder some human kid”.

·         “What’s he saying?”, Leo asks, leaning in from the left.

·         “Hm…not good…he’s looking for fighters but at least we know where he’s going, according to my search this ‘Marriott’ that the guy mentions is a hotel just down the street…the Atlanta Marriott Marquis.”

·         “Then let’s get movin’, Don, lead da way.”, Raph shoves Donnie from behind, where he’s still acting as a barricade between his lithe brother and the crushing public. He’s eager to get moving, standing still when Shredder is out there hunting for a new army is grating on his nerves.

·         The quartet of disguised mutants walk along in the crowd, still in more shock and awe of being able to walk so freely among the general masses.  The laughter, the smiles, the excitement, and comradery are palpable in the air.  Everyone is high spirts and the four brothers are right in the middle of it.  This is truly a new and welcomed experience for them.

·         For too long they have watched from the shadows as people had fun.  They would watch club goers and weekend warriors living it up on Friday and Saturday nights in New York while they stood on roof tops patrolling and keeping watch…from a distance.  They often wondered, and in some of their cases daydreamed, about being part of the crowd below.  And, now, here they were, walking in soft human skins with the rest of the world.  Would they ever be able to go back to the shadows and not feel empty inside?

·         As they each ponder the experience quietly and the implications of these experiences on their future selves, they follow the flow of the crowd as it passes under the carport awning of the Marriott Marquis.  The voices and sounds of laughter echoing and bouncing back under the marquee, adding to the energy of the atmosphere.

·         They enter the establishment through the double sliding doors and are immediately stuck speechless by the activity and the setting.  The hotel was architecturally beautiful, it’s 47 stories visible in the main atrium with a cluster of stylish elevators quickly running crowds of people up and down the inside column of the atrium.  Hundreds, no, thousands of people, most of which that were in some form of costume milled about talking, taking pictures, and celebrating as one.

·         Donnie was sure that he had died and gone to nerd heaven…nerd nirvana…nerd-vana.  A small tear rests at the edge of one of his eyes.  Mikey’s hyperactive mind starts to short circuit as his eyes jump around the celebratory scene in front of him…’now THIS is a PARTY’, he thinks to himself.  Raph bringing up the rear, is stunned into silence himself. There are women…EVERYWHERE…WITH VERY LITTLE ON…AND WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE!  

·         Leo quickly assesses the scene and the effect that it is having on his brothers’ attention span, he’s got to set down the rules quickly and keep them focused on the task of finding Shredder.  “Ok, guys, let’s split up and find Shredder quickly as possible.  There are a lot of people here, so he’ll have plenty to blend in with, or use as victims against us, we NEED to find him quickly.  Raph, you’re with me, we’ll down those escalators and search there. Don you and Mike take that upper level.  If you see Shredder call for backup, don’t engage until we can be sure that we can keep the area clear and ensure that people won’t get hurt.”.

·         Leo and Raph descend to the lower level via the escalator.  The level is one large arching circle with various wings and ballrooms off its center.  There is a back entrance where other vehicles are making pit stops, picking up and dropping off of party-goers.  Leo doesn’t like this scenario, it’s going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. “We need to move through these wings to make sure he hasn’t made it to some of the maintenance areas.

·         Raph doesn’t hear Leo’s directions as he is fully distracted by a group of women cosplaying as a Sailor Moon group standing around the lower level posing for pictures. He grins devilishly at them as they wave teasingly at him.  Leo lets out an alpha snort, which doesn’t have much impact coming from his smaller human lungs, and he punches the oversexed behemoth in the arm, “Raph, focus!”.  

·         “I am focusing, Fearless, I’m focusing on dat real hard”, he replies slyly while his eyes haven’t left the group of short-skirted women.

·         Leo shakes his head, “I knew I should have brought Donnie with me, but I couldn’t trust you and Mikey together.”.

·         Raph’s eyes finally leave the group of cosplayers to stare pointedly at Leo, “I don’t need ya ta babysit me, LEO.  I’ll find Shredda and kick his ass all da way back ta New York”, he snarls aggressively.

·         “Fine, prove it, let’s move”, Leo challenges and starts leading the way down through the bowels of the hotel.

·         As Donnie and Mikey crested the escalator, their eyes saw even more of the festivities taking place on the main level.  People crowded around the bar and the dance platform, one story up overlooking the main level lobby, was packed to the brim with people grinding and gyrating to the beats from the house DJ.

·         “Don, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven”, Mikey whispers out reverently.

·         “We need to find Shredder, Mikey, we don’t have time to play around”, Donnie says, even though his own eyes are wandering the crowds appreciating the costume designs, period replicas people are carrying, and the….uhm….nice outfits of the ladies. Donnie subtly adjusts the crotch of his cargo pants.  He may be slightly smaller in human form, but proportionally still quite sizable and too many ‘happy thoughts’ still cause an uncomfortable tightness down below.

·         “Ok, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we need to split up to cover more ground. There is just too many going on and Shredder will be able to hide among it.  Mikey, PLEASE, don’t get lost and stay focused.”, Donnie negotiates with his younger brother.

·         “Don, you can count on me, bro!  Detective Mikey is on the case!”, he clasps Donnie on the shoulder before starting to walk off to circle the atrium from the left.

·         “We’ll meet back up by the bar”, Donnie yells at him over the crowd before he moves off to the right, searching the crowds for a villain but appreciating the other visual interests as well.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell

[outofsstyles]

KILLER QUEEN (80s!AU)

 A/N: Heyaa!! So here’s what happens when I watch Sing Street right after reading some of Olivia’s boyfriend!Harry prompts :) Also a huge thank you to Soph @canyon-moan​ for betaing this for me!! A gentle reminder that I was not, in fact, alive in the 80s so please take it easy in that aspect lol. If you like it *please reblog*, it helps a lot, also I’d love to hear your feedback!!!!

Word count: 25.3k (I have no self control!! Someone stop me!!)

Pairing: Musician!Harry + Bassist!Reader

Prompts: making it official + enemies but secretly lovers

Warnings: Our typical mentions of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll (and a lot of denim!)

Concept: You and Harry are in rival bands and you shouldn’t really get along but you can’t help it.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that, from the moment you agreed to be part of the band, your agenda would become more frantic. That’s all you read on magazines or see on the television on those late nights MTV programs that love to talk about that rockstar life. The shows and the sleepless nights. The drugs and the sex between stages. It’s always what comes to the minds of anyone that thinks about following the music path.

Of course, you’re far from being The Bangles or Duran Duran, but even when it comes to playing for uninterested drunks on small crummy bars, you still found yourself barely able to catch a breather from it. 

And it also doesn’t help that on top of it all, you also try your best to balancing your studies as you go into your third year of uni. So, between being tucked behind your bass during rehearsals and going around begging for stuck up pub owners to give a spot, you still have to find time for the busy class schedule that also blends with your tutoring job on the side. Sometimes it feels like juggling those two contrasting lives is too much, and when you walk home each day too exhausted to even function, you ponder if you should just drop one of them.

You still manage to fall into a rather chaotic routine of dragging through weekdays to fall into reckless weekends. It’s not easy, but you make it work.

Today, however, seemed to be an odd one. From the moment you woke up with the sound of birds chirping and the faint conversation of your neighbors outside your window, you felt a sense of relaxation that has become a rarity to you. It’s a welcoming change from your usual rowdy roommates bantering at each other or the loud music blasting through the walls that serve as your alarm on regular days. The silence that engrosses your normally-chaotic home is calming as much as it is strange. 

The whole day went by in a lulling and lazy pace, and between your several attempts of keeping yourself occupied (that being going on a walk to the library or going through your mom’s old recipe book) you actually catch yourself realizing the quietness can be louder than your roommates.

It’s a weird concept to you. Missing them when you spend so much time together in the band, but you still can’t help it. So you just blast the radio and let Rio fill in the empty walls as you wait for one of them to come home.

By the time the night falls, wind thumping on the closed windows as the first thin drops of rain start to hit the glass, Lena is back from her shift with a low huff and a roll of her eyes, mumbling how she’s never covering weekend shifts ever again -- which you both know is not true, but neither mention it. And that’s how you find yourself at the end of your unruffled day, tucked at the end of your couch under a cozy blanket. Listening to one of MTV’s nightly programs - that Lena watches almost religiously after a day of work - as background noise. You focus on the open book settled on top of your lap, enjoying her company quietly as you flip through the pages.

It could be the perfect ending for a perfectly relaxing day, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep as the words in front of you begin to shuffle, finding it harder to concentrate with your mind drifting off.

But before you can let your eyes fall close and your head snuggle back into the cushions, you’re startled awake by the burst of your front door opening. The sudden noise makes you and Lena jump, a yelp leaving your lips as you look back to the source of your fright. 

You barely have any time to feel panicked or even wrap your head around the possibilities of what could have caused the outburst as Abbey barges into the room.  She all but jumps on each step, stumbling a bit as she makes her way around the couch to stand tall in front of you. Her red hair is full and damp, droplets of water running down her body, causing her clothes to stick to her skin.

“I got us a gig!” Her breath is short as if she just ran a long way.

“Christ, Abbey, don’t do that!” You relax back into the couch once you realize there’s no real threat invading your home, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She scoffs, “Did you listen to a word I just said?” You notice her eyes are blown out, “I got us a gig, as in a </i> real gig.”

“A real gig?” Lena inquires, standing up to walk towards the front door that was left agape, closing it with a thump.

Abbey’s grin grows, her words come out slow but clear. “Next Saturday in the Blue Bird.”

“That’s in a week.” You state.

Her shoulders drop, “Yeah, and?”

“Blue Bird?” Lena comes in the room again, stopping by the head of the couch and crossing her arms under her chest. “How did you even get that I thought the only band that played there was--”

“You’re right Lena, was as in not anymore because we are playing there, and there’s more.” She interrupts, her voice raising an octave. “The owner, Ronnie, said if we’re good enough he can arrange for us to play every other weekend.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head slightly. “That’s like a place where people actually go for the music, what makes you think we can pull that off?”

Abbey points a finger at you, “You’re being a pessimist, and that’s not appreciated in here.” She waves her hands around, trying to assert her point. “We can and we will pull that off and take over the permanent spot on the weekends.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lena smirks, eyebrows raising at her friend. “It’s been a hot minute since you raged about that Harry boy.”

 “It’s not just about him, Adeline.” She barks, “It’s about us! We need to find our confidence again.”

 “Again?” You speak out, making her snap her eyes back at you.

“Yes, again.” She says, “We’re doing this and it’s gonna be wicked.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement as you exchange a knowing look with Lena.

In all fairness, the prospect of playing a gig at an actual music house is as exciting as it is scary. It’s not like you think you’re not able to pull it off, but the simple thought of having people actually paying attention to your presence on stage is enough to make you want to hide under your covers and never come out. But seeing Abbey so pumped about it, there’s no way in a million years you’d ever say no.

She was the one that wanted to start a band, after all. Before she dropped out, in what seems like ages ago, she was your roommate that would drag you around every time she had those spontaneous ideas, that is going out for pancakes at three in the morning, go on weekend trips to concerts two cities away, or, well, start a band herself.  

In the beginning, it was just the three of you, Abbey as the lead, you on the bass, and a girl you met on one of the said weekend trips, who had introduced herself as Lena, on the guitar. And not even a month later, you were all living together in a tiny house near the main street. 

At first, the biggest issue, to your surprises, was that you couldn’t find a drummer if your lives depended on it. Even after putting out posters around campus, you only got two calls from men whose only interest was the “all-girls band” part of it. Things got better when you met Jaz, a smiley girl from your Phonetics class. She wasn’t a drummer, but her boyfriend was, they both played for their High School band (which is how they met, a proper movie-worthy story if they’d ask you). And just like that, you got yourselves a drummer and a keyboardist.

For the next few months that followed you played on dirty bars and house parties, getting paid with tipsy pats on your backs, or, if you were lucky, maybe a pack of cheap drinks for you all to share. It’s the frustrating part of trying to get into the music path, you found, most serious places were not interested on a band with hardly any live experience and no original songs whatsoever. So you just had to take whatever opportunity came your way. Once, you even played on the birthday party of Lena’s manager’s daughter, which was probably the most disastrous experience of them all, considering a crowd of eight-year-olds and their posh moms weren’t exactly fond of listening to loud covers of Blondie. You got to play three full songs before one of them asked you to leave. 

The first time you actually got money was when Abbey dragged you and Lena to play on the sidewalk of the National Park, where people would come and go with their busy lives and full wallets. That was the best one, you easily got three hundred within a few hours of your open cases, which was split between the three of you at the end of the day.

Afterward, you wanted to play on the streets again, but Abbey wished more than just being a street performer, she yearned for the glow of the spotlights and a place on the stage. And it’s not like you lot didn’t think of it as well, how it would be like to have an actual gig. So, you just went back to the old routine of jumping from bar to bar.  Playing for people that couldn't care less about your presence on the small stage, focusing only on their cheap beers and drunk conversations. 

For a while it seemed like that was all there was to it, the music scene getting more congested by the minute, you thought there was no way you’d ever make it out there. There were moments you even thought about giving it up, if you were honest, setting your mind into getting your English degree that at least has the guarantee of a stable paycheck by the end of it. But as Abbey always says, there’s nothing you can’t do with a twist of your hair and a bat of your lashes. And somehow, she managed to be true to her word, presenting an opportunity to actually start taking this seriously.

And it would be a lie to say there isn’t an excitement growing at the pit of your stomach the more you think about it.

                                ❁         ❁        ❁ 

You’ve heard about the Blue Bird before.

Of course you have, it’s near to impossible not to. Being in a small town, predominantly surrounded by uni students, and that being the only music pub in the area, you’ve heard about it quite often. 

It’s become quite the hot spot for people interested in listening to good music while getting lost in the bottom of their beer glasses. With the only other competitor being a good forty-minute drive away, people go in crowds on the weekends as a getaway from their textbooks. You’re not sure why you’ve never been in it, though, only going as far as walking past it on your nightly walks during the week, listening to the faint sound of whatever band’s playing at the time. 

But if there’s one thing that’s always brought up when the subject is the Blue Bird is CHASM, more specifically Harry Styles. They have the permanent spot on the weekends and have become one of the main reason people - women, mainly - come in lots to have a spot inside the packed space. 

As much as his name comes up in a dreamy sigh and followed by a string of giggles when you hear it being mentioned by a classmate or overhear it somewhere in public, inside of your bubble he’s pretty much only mentioned in annoyed huffs or with a roll of eyes. If you’re honest, you know close to nothing about him, wouldn’t even be able to point him out on the street if you ever happen to cross paths. But you do know that Abbey is not fond of him in the slightest, so for that, you try to keep your distance from anything that has to do with Harry Styles.

You’re not sure how this hatred of her came to be and to be honest, you’ve never really been bothered enough to ask. Abbey doesn’t like a lot of people, her first impression of them it’s what she keeps in her heart with zero to no chance of changing it, so you just assume this Harry guy might’ve not given her a good one. It’s never really been something you really dwelled on, the circumstances in your life allowing you to ignore his existence unless he’s being spoken of. But it feels like a whole nother story now that you’ve essentially stolen his golden spot on the saturday night. 

The moment you walk into The Blue Bird is when you start to come to the realization that this is really happening. Not even a full step in, your eyes already dart to the big stage standing tall across from the entrance door, bigger than any other one you’ve ever been in -- being used to small platforms that barely have enough space to fit a drumset. it’s hard not to let your lips part in awe at the size of it all, the outside is rather modest compared to it, the only really striking detail being the LED sign with the name of the pub. There’s a large bar standing in the middle of the place, serving almost as a divisor of the two areas of the pub. The first area is the one you walk into as you first enter the place, with tables surrounding the space -- that now have their chairs propped on top of them, and you reckon this is where people sit around as they wait for the musical act of afterward when they can barely keep themselves up on their feet. The second area, however, it’s just empty of any barrier, except from the stools lined in front of the bar, meant mainly for people to crowd in front of the stage.

The walls are what catches your attention, though. The one where the front door stands is covered with magazines and newspaper cutouts of celebrities, scandalous headlines written in big bold letters, and random articles about their personal lives. On top of this big collage, there are band posters, you assume the ones that played in here, most of them stuck once to the wall, except for one that you can see multiple different colored papers with the same name written on it. 

You stop in front of one of them, one that’s just below your eyesight but catches your attention with the big blood-red letters that read CHASM on top of it, with a smaller font on the side saying  “live every weekend of ‘87” right below it. What you focus on, however, are the five faces staring back at you, their serious expressions looking almost haunting with the black and white filter. But it’s the one in the middle that your eyes immediately dart to. Unlike his bandmates, his lips are frozen with a slight smirk, small enough that wandering eyes could easily miss it, but still prominent enough that you can make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek. His hair is settled in a wild nest, but not in a sloppy way, you decide, they’re a rockstar kind of messy. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt in that, just by looking at the small print of his face you can understand what the fuss is about, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. But it doesn’t keep your mind from wondering the color of his eyes and what it would be like to see them up close, as you look back at the taunting grin you think what could be the tone of his lips or--

“Lost something in there?” Lena’s voice makes you jump, turning swiftly to find her grinning at you. “You should come and start getting everything ready before Abbey finds you admiring our arch-nemesis.”

Your eyes widen, coughing in surprise as you try to regain composure after being caught. “I-- I wasn’t--”

She chuckles, turning to roam back to the stage before you can finish, throwing you one last look over her shoulder. “Sure thing, buttercup.”

You spare one last look to the poster before following her lead to the other side of the room where the rest of your friends are setting up the instruments on top of the stage. Once you locate your case tucked in the far left corner you quickly open it, finding your soft pink tinted bass resting inside of it. The Sesame Street sparkling stickers stuck to it glimmer from this angle (you got them in a favor bag from when you played at the birthday party), thanks to one of the spotlights shining directly at them. You pick the instrument up, adjusting the strap over your shoulder and giving the chords a few experimental strokes before looking up at the empty place.

There’s no denial of the anticipation that takes over every part of your body at the sight of the pub from the stage. A perfect mixture of excitement and anxiousness that lights up as you imagine how it will be like to see it filled up. It makes you gnawn at you bottom lip, jumping a bit on you feet as you move to connect your bass to the amplifier.

For a while, you just finish setting up the stage, tuning in the instruments, the sounds echoing on the empty space in a bit of a disarray, as you get used to the feeling of using proper sound equipment. You had the chance to meet the owner, Ronnie, for a brief minute as he strolled around the stage, observing you all before mumbling something about paying anything you broke and announcing he’d be in his office until opening hours. It wasn’t the warmest greeting you’ll admit, but you don’t really care, enjoying the opportunity nevertheless. 

Abbey arrives just a few minutes before the rehearsal is set to start, contemplating the view of everyone getting into a more of a harmonic arrangement before disappearing backstage for a moment without saying much of a word. When she comes back, she props herself in front of a big curved mirror cutting through one of the walls.

“Do you think you can do my makeup today, babe?” She calls back at you, gazing from over her shoulder with a slight pout on her ips.

“Sure.” You fiddle with the guitar pick between your fingers. “Do you want that rainbow look from last time?”

“Maybe something with less color this time.” She focuses back on her reflection, sighing loudly as fingers run through her locks. “I’m thinking of dying my hair black,” she tilts her head as if she’s envisioning her words. “I don’t know, just to try out something new.”

“That won’t make you look more like Joan Jett, you know.” A voice echoes in the empty space, bringing your attention to the entrance of the place.

And there he stands. The figure you had been staring at not long before, on the same poster stuck right behind where he is leaning, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. 

Harry stands there as if he just walked right out of the big screen, is the kind of beautiful you don’t see quite often outside a magazine cover. Not that it’s something that surprises you, considering you could tell from even a poorly printed image on a poster that the sharp curve of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones could call anyone’s attention from afar. Even with what you find to be a rather plain outfit for someone like him, a simple white turtleneck tucked in his lightwash jeans, matched with a denim jacket, he still manages to stand out somehow. It’s almost compelling, really. And you can’t help but follow him with your eyes as he pushes himself off the wall, making his way towards the bar with an attitude as if he owns the place.

Abbey scoffs from her spot, arms crossing under her chest. “Unlike you, I don’t have to try to be someone else to get attention, Styles.”

He rests an elbow on top of the counter, chuckling as he points a finger at your friend. “You’re getting better at this, I’m proud.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” She barks, keeping a stern look pointed at him.

“Wanted to check out who stole our Saturday night spot, princess.” He spits back at her, words dancing around the room in a teasing manner. “When Ronnie said it was a bunch of newbies had to see it with my own eyes.” Unlike her, he doesn’t seem bitter at the situation in hand, but somewhat amused at the heated girl scoffing at him. From the distance you stand, you can’t make out details, but it’s still enough to notice the grin imprinted on his face, dimples marking his cheeks as he clenches his jaw, eyes wandering around the stage as he leans back fully to rest both elbows on top of the stool. “Plus, I get free booze before the House opens.”

As the words leave his lips his eyes meet yours, and you quickly realize you must’ve been staring for quite a while. You see the smirk growing on his face before you quickly look back at the forgotten bass in your hands. There’s a warmth creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears from getting caught all but gawking at him. You move your hands to the cords, beginning to tune the instrument as an attempt to cover-up. But when you take a peek at him you still find his eyes watching you, only enhancing the blush that’s now undoubtedly taking over your cheeks.

“You lot are way more organized than I expected.” He speaks up again, motioning towards Ross sitting by the side of the stage near the drumset.  “Got a roadie and everything.”

“Piss off!” Ross snarls back at him.

Harry just smiles. “Just taking a piss, mate.”

“I better not see you going around trying to get to one of my girls, Styles.” Abbey calls back from her shoulder as she jumps onto the stage, turning to face him. “Or you’re a dead man.”

“What’s that they can’t speak for themselves?” He arches his brows at her. “Where’s all that sexual freedom you love to brag about?”

“You’d love to use that as an excuse, wouldn’t you?” She toys with the mic stand. “You stay away from them.”

There’s no more banter once you begin the rehearsal. Harry grabbing a glass of a drink you can’t quite make out from the distance and moves to a spot tucked by the back of the place. Curiously, you catch yourself glimpsing in his direction every so often, but you can barely make out his silhouette due to the stage lights limiting your vision. At one point, when it dims down, you can see him scrunching over the table, focusing on a small journal sitting on top of it -- you find it odd his choice of place to do so, but don’t duel on it too much.

What keeps crawling back into your mind is Abbey’s words to Harry earlier, telling him to not try his way with any of you. She was talking about you. That much was clear, considering there’s not any other choice for him, with Jaz being very much compromised and Lena having no interest in engaging with men in any way. That leaves you as the only option that he could possibly pursue. It makes you think why she’d even consider that a possibility in the first place, but you push it to the back of your mind, concentrating on you bass lines until it’s around the opening hour and you’re getting ready backstage.

None of you are used to the concept of having a dressing room, so as undusted as it seems from a first glance, it still only helps to enhance the reality that hits you of this whole experience. The far voices from people starting to fill in the bar outside making your nerves become near overwhelming as you try to apply some eyeshadow with shaky hands. 

When you’re all ready to go, just about half an hour away from walking onstage, you try to dull your anxiety with a cup handed to you by Lena of something you’re not quite sure what it is but it tastes like oranges and tequila. You settle on a spot on the certainly old red couch prompted against the wall. Avoiding a big rip cutting through the middle of it, foam poking out of the hole, you try not to think of what could’ve caused it -- or all the other stains adorning it. 

There’s people coming and going around the space, the door not staying close for longer than a minute. Faster than you can process it, the room is suddenly crammed with people, none of which you recognize yet they greet you as if you’d been friends your whole life. Their loud voices mesh together, making it harder to even hear your own voice if you were to speak out loud. A strong scent of incense takes over the room, so intense you can feel the beginning of a headache. There are people stumbling on their feet trying to get to the stool across from you, where you catch a glimpse of a man with a messy mohawk snorting something out of a dirty bill. 

Two strangers found their sits next to you at some point - not paying the same attention you had to the rip scarring through the cushions. Both get lost in their conversation, the man’s fluffed curls poking your face occasionally when he gets too excited with the hand gestures. You catch a word or two when they try to include you in it, you offer a simple nod, not bothering to try and understand their muddled words.

It all starts to feel a bit overwhelming, the amount of strangers surrounding you along with the nervous feeling that’s already taking over your stomach -- the drink not being of any help at all. You look around trying to find a familiar face, but you can barely spot the green ends of Lena’s hair through the crowd. Gazing down at your wrist clock, you figure there’s enough time for you to find a emptier spot so you can calm yourself down.

“I think I’m gonna get some air.” You say to no one in particular, seeing the man’s head nodding from your peripheral vision as you maneuver your way between leather-clad bodies towards the door.

You’re met with a just as packed hallway. Searching for a more vacant space, you spot a sign indicating an exit door that had been pointed at you earlier as the back alleyway. Without a second thought, you make your way around the crowded space. The nest of feet makes you trip slightly, making you crash against a girl standing next to the door. You mutter a quick apology, but you’re only met with a pitched giggle in response.

Once you reach the door you all but jolt your way out of the building. The brisk night air hitting your face, bringing a sense of relief near to instantly. You close your eyes at the feeling, breathing in as the breeze dances around your face and messes with your air.

“Well, if it’s not one of Abigail’s bunnies.” A voice cuts through the air, breaking you from your moment of relief. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s irises watching you. He’s leaning back on the wall across from you, foot prompt up and jacket thrown over his shoulders. His fingers fiddle with a closed package of cigarettes, dimples shadowing on his face in amusement.

You blink at him, taking a second to process his words. “I’m not a bunny, whatever that means.”

His lips twitch up. “I’m sure you’re not, darling.”

You observe as he thumbs the package in hand open, quickly grabbing a cigarette and resting it between his lips. “Need a light for that?”

His brows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, angel.”

“I’m not, my friends are.” You reach for the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a tiny pink lighter and throwing it towards him.

He catches it, holding it up between his index and middle finger. “You carry that around for your friends?” He keeps his eyes trained on you as he raises the lighter, flicking it so it paints the end of the cigarette a fiery orange. You can’t help but notice the chipped black nail polish adorning his nails, a couple of rings hugging his fingers, only adding to his rockstar persona. His cheeks hollow around it, taking a slow drag exhaling smooth puffs of smoke out of his puckered lips. He points the end of the cigarette towards you. “That’s a good girl.”

You feel your breath hitch on your throat, looking down as you feel for the second time in the day a heat taking over your cheeks. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the alleyway, your gaze waves around checking a few other lone smokers not too far from you. When you peek at him again, he’s still watching you with the same smug look he had when he first walked in. From this distance you can get a better look at his face, with it’s full colors, and you make a point to figure the forest green of his eyes flickering under the dim light. 

You clear your throat, trying to fill in the silence that’s taken over the space. Keeping your eyes still trained on a random spot where the alley meets the street, you speak up,  “So, how did get a gig here?”

“Trying to get to know me now, love?” There’s a smug tone to his voice, and it makes you shoot your eyes at him.

You shake your head, scoffing softly. “Was trying to be nice, forget it.”

He lets the air fall quiet for a beat, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes another drag of the cigarette. “My uncle owns the place.”

“Ronnie is your uncle?” You crease your eyebrows.

“Yup.” He props his foot down from the wall, kicking a small rock on the floor. “He’s a right prick, but he can be nice if you get on his soft spot.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “What ‘bout you, bunny?”

 “What about me?”

“How did you get in the spotlight?”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not in the spotlight,” 

“You’re stepping on that stage in a few minutes, love, that’s hardly true.”

You chew on your lip, locking your eyes on your feet as you sway back and forth gently. “But I’m, like, on the invisible side of the stage.”

“Invisible side?” 

You shrug, trying to appear unflappable. “Yeah, well, no one ever notices the bassist.”

“I do.” He says without skipping a beat, and when you search for his eyes they’re aloof as if the words just left his lips without a single implication behind them. You wonder if there is one. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop a flock of butterflies to sweep on your stomach as he shoots you a warm smile. He motions to the door behind you with his head, “Better get going, darling, if someone spots us talking they might think we’re friends.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Did you see how crazy they went when we did Call Me?” Abbey leans over the table, not paying any mind to the way it starts to tilt towards her side. You and Jaz quickly balance the weight, straightening surface before the filled cups can start sliding down and causing a mess. You give her a scolding look for not being careful, but she doesn’t even look at you, only picking a fry from the pile in the middle and dipping inside her vanilla milkshake, sitting back and elbowing Lena next to her playfully. “And to think you said it’s not a gig song.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lena shakes the cup in her hand, circling the straw as to mix the melting ice cream inside, completely unfazed by her friend’s tease. “Just said we should do something new if people wanted old songs they would tune on that good times radio station, or whatever it’s called.”

“People like listening to classics!” Abbey protests, raising her voice bit, she’s either forgotten she’s in public or is just simply too stoned to care. Either way, you try to shush her, muffling a giggle with the back of your hand as you see a group two tables down looking back at her. She only huffs, leaning back down on her seat, “What do you suggest we play, then? Duran Duran?”

“I like Duran Duran.” You pester, trying to repress a smile as she shoots you a pointed look.

“I actually think Duran Duran is a great idea.” Lena backs you up, the same taunting smile reflecting on her face as she says it looking at you. 

“You two are completely insane if you think I’m singing new wave, might as well start to fill in for a new vocalist.” She shoves her hand full of fries, dropping to her side of the table with a shrug.

“Jaz you think that girl from your choir is available? The blonde one?” Lena bites into her straw, barely containing her laugh as Abbey narrows her eyes at her.

You watch in amusement from across the table, the contrast between Lena and Abbey looking comical as they continue to banter at each other. In one side there’s Lena who’s leaning back on the wall next to her, her neon pink jumpsuit standing out from anyone else in your group, hair hardly styled, being more of a nest in her head, the sides shaved and the back falling on her shoulders in a mullet. On the other side, Abbey’s swallowed in black, the only color being the red of her hair, that’s pushed up in a high side ponytail.

It was her idea to come to the diner after the gig, declining every offer of an after party (which is new for her) and insisting you had to have this moment to decompress together as a band. What you didn’t take account of, is that a diner on a Saturday night isn’t exactly a deserted place. So after spending an hour sitting on the parking lot, waiting for a table, you finally got yourselves a booth tucked by the back. And now as the place gets clearer and quieter by the minute, after getting your round of burgers, you share a big pile of fries, not ready to leave and sleep on this experience just yet.

“You know who also seem to enjoy the show? That Harry dude.” The mention of his name calls your attention to Lena. “Caught him in the corner a couple times watching us.”

You take a sip of his drink, trying to mask any expression that exposes the fact that you’d noticed too, maybe more than just a couple times.

To your relief, everyone focuses on Abbey as she lets out an annoyed huff. “Why’d you bring him up of all people.” She picks up her nearly empty cup a bit too harshly, her voice rising again. “He called me a Joan Jett wannabe! Fucking prick.”

 “You do dress like her,” Lena raises her brows in defiance.

“It’s called an inspiration, Adeline, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be her.” She barks at her friend. “Doesn’t give that knobhead the right to be a dick about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?” The question slips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you regret it as soon as all eyes on the table set on you, Abbey’s face creasing in an incredulous look as if the answer was obvious.

 “Are you serious? Did you hear how he spoke to us?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “Just seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of you.”

“He’s got a stick up his ass, babe. A full narcissist, it’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in aversion. “He’s also a complete womanizer, it’s disgusting if you ask me.”

“I guess,” You gaze up at her.”

“Babe, he’s a charmer, I’ve seen it before, he knows how to sweet talk someone.” She explains in a sigh. “They’re all like that.”

“They?”

“Men in bands.” She picks up another fry, poking it on her forehead as she makes her point. “Have their heads bigger than the whole stage, think they can do just about anything.”

“Suppose that’s true,” You agree, not wanting to get further in this discussion.

She smiles, biting a piece of the fry before pointing it at you. “It is, which is why we are smart girls and don’t fuck with them.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

You’re aware that going for a walk by yourself at night is not a very secure choice. 

Even living in what you feel like could be the most monotone town in the area (where the biggest report on the local news was when two boys got stuck on a tree thanks to a dare with their friends). But it still doesn’t stop you from being careful, only going around the busier streets, watching the movement of people - mostly students - chatting the night away on the filled pub table, enjoying the short break between studies before going back at it once the weekend’s over. 

You stroll around with not much of a purpose, really, only needing a bit of time to yourself every so often when you feel the turmoil in your home becomes to much (on those weekends when both your roommates decide to stay home). So you just go on your usual path, breathing in the night air and enjoying some alone time.

The ending of your course is marked by none other than the Blue Bird, standing in a corner of the main street.

 A small group of people is gathered in front of it, smoking their cigarettes. You stare at them for a minute as you get closer to the led lights indicating the entrance of the pub, the girls with their bright-colored outfits, hair styled and puffed up as they laugh along to whatever one of the boys has said. One of them has a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder that almost swallows her figure, and you can only assume that it belongs to the man talking to her, leaning back on a payphone, the quiff in his hair so high it makes him look like a knock-off John Travolta. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh to yourself.

Once you reach the entrance you look at it mindlessly, not being able to see much from outside except the string curtain hanged on top of the open door. You turn on your heels, ready to start making your way back, but as you pay attention to the muffled sounds coming from inside the pub you stop on your tracks. A familiar tune catching your attention, making you turn in the direction of the entry. Somebody to Love. 

It peaks your curiosity. If you’re honest, you feel like covering a Queen song is probably one of the most bound for disaster decisions someone can make. But as you feel yourself approaching the entrance, the voice of whoever’s singing it all but lures you inside. It’s not the same as the original, of course, but the lower tone to it fits it just as beautifully and once you fully walk in you can almost feel your heart skip a beat to find Harry standing on stage. His eyes closed in concentration. 

It’s saturday. His saturday night. You forgot about that.

You don’t dare to try to mend amongst the crowd of people packed in front of the stage, making your way to the bar. You thankfully find an empty stool without much of a fight, allowing you a perfect vision of the stage.

Harry is playing the guitar, his voice blending perfectly with the vocals of the girls in the background, eyes closed as he feels every lyric coming out of his throat. His stage look is much different than the one he wore back when you first saw him, it’s something you reckon not many people could rock out as good as he does. A mismatched suit, light green blazer with a pink blouse underneath, along with bright blue trousers -- it’s as if he picked one piece from different colored suits (which you assume he probably did). The locks of his hair are no longer running wild on his head, instead, it’s gelled back, a single rebel strand falling charmingly against his forehead. You wonder if it’s on purpose.

It’s quite a sight to see him like this, you’re not gonna lie. All suited up with no tie, the blouse only partially buttoned so you notice a tease of some tattoos on his chest. You’d noticed his good looks before, it’s impossible not to, but there’s something about the stage glow that makes it impossible to look away from him. It’s mesmerizing.

To your surprise, the rest of his set mainly consists of originals, and unlike you’d expect for any amateur band that dares to sweep away from covers, he manages to hold the crowd’s attention as if he’s singing any other hit song you hear on the radio. Even not knowing the lyrics, people cheer along to the songs, moving to the beat as best as they can in the crowded space. And that’s a direct result of the charisma he holds while standing on stage.

It’s entrancing, really, how he holds himself as if he was born to be doing this. And you think maybe he was. 

There’s a mischievous glow to him, when he rocks out to his own songs, grinding slightly against the mic stand. A gesture that makes you flustered even from your seat a couple of meters away. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him even if you tried. And you’re sure as hell not trying.

At one point you feel a poke in your arm, turning around to be met with the barman who recognizes you from the week prior. He greets you with a shout over the noise, offering you a drink on his account. Your first instinct is to refuse, considering you weren’t even supposed to stay for long, but after a bit of insisting on his part you accept with a shy smile.

By the time he’s ending the last song, you’re at the edge of your seat, catching yourself wishing you could see more of him. The lights in the audience turn on as he wraps up the set, and just before he bows down with the rest of his band his eyes wander in your direction. It’s so quickly that you think you could’ve just imagined it, considering his eyes don’t meet yours again, only rushing his way backstage.

You blink at the empty spot where he once stood for a moment, almost feeling frozen in place as you try to take in what happened. Turning on your stool to face the bar, you gaze down at your forgotten drink. You hold it to your lips, deciding to finish it so you can ease your way out before anyone else spots you. Your attempt is frustrated, however, when you hear a voice coming from behind you.

“Reckon Abbey Road would throw a fit if she knew you’re wandering around watching my concert.” You turn to face Harry, finding him looking down at you, signature smirk making his dimples poke onto his cheeks. His hands are hidden inside the pockets of his dress pants and he’s taken off his blazer, causing the pink of his blouse to stand out even more.

You chew the inside of your lip. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“That’s good to hear, bunny.” His smile grows, hand leaving the pocket to motion at the empty spot next to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Be my guest.”

He sits on the empty stool, turning to the bartender that’s handing a drink to a man standing behind you. “Can you give the lady another one of what she was drinking? On my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I was about to--” You begin, but the man behind the counter doesn’t care to listen, only picking up your empty glass and moving away to fill it up. “leave.”

“Already?” Harry arches his eyebrows, resting his arm on top of the counter and leaning towards you. His voice comes out a bit softer, dropping the playful tone, “let me buy you a drink, angel.”

You ignore the way the hairs on your neck rise at the petname. “You really don’t have to--”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, not being able to hold back your smile once his own grows on his face.

As if on cue, the bartender comes back with two glasses, setting them in front of the two of you. You don’t fail to note the fact that he gives Harry his drink without being asked to.

He picks up his glass, holding it up, to which you do the same, clinking your glasses slightly before taking a sip.  “So, what brings you here tonight? Measuring the competition?”

 “I was just walking around, heard a lousy cover of Somebody To Love, and decided to come in.”

He throws his head back a bit in laughter, nose scrunching adorably. You have to look away as to not find yourself staring. “A Queen fan, then?”

 “You could say so.”

“A pretty girl with a good taste in music, gonna steal m’heart if you keep going, bunny.” And just like that, it’s like he takes all the words out of your mind. You only let out a small chuckle, taking a sip of your drink as you look away to cove the blush that paints your cheeks. His eyes are still trained on you, though. “Was it any good?”

“Huh?” You blink back at him.

“The cover.” He grins. “Or was it really that lousy?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You say truthfully, clearing your throat. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, smiling at you. And unlike before, it’s not smug, but rather warm, you smile back at him. “Enjoyed the show, then?”

“I did.” You nod.

“I’m glad.” He runs his finger around the brim of his glass, tapping against it once with a click of his ring against the glass.  “What would you change about it?”

The question takes you back. “What would I change?” 

 “Yeah.” He clasps his hands over his lap, moving his feet on the floor so his stool swivels from one side to the other.

“Uhm…” You crease your brows, trying to hack your brain for an answer. Your eyes land on his blouse, still halfway unbuttoned. “Your shirt.”

“M’shirt?” He questions, brows shooting towards his hairline, clearly not expecting the answer. He gazes down at the piece on his body, fingers pitching the material as he looks back at you. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a big fan of pink.” You shrug.

“Now, we just can’t have that, bunny.” He clicks his tongue. “Pink is the new color of rock n roll!”

You chuckle. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry then, mister rockstar.”

His face lights up in a giggle, lips parting to say something but before he can let the words out a hand rests on his shoulder calling both your attentions to the man standing next to him. You recognize him from standing next to Harry on stage as the guitar player.

“We’re hopping over to Eamon’s.” He doesn’t acknowledge you until Harry’s eyes hover over in your direction. 

“That’s fine, think I’ll stay behind this time.” Harry looks back at his friend, but you see him glimpsing at you from the corner of his eyes.

You watch as his friend raises his brows, gazing between the two of you in a curious manner. You clear your throat, shifting in your seat as you look at them. “ It’s fine, I should get going anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a blink, a smirk twitching on his lips almost as if to cover up how quickly he said it. He turns back to his friend, who’s still watching the interaction with raised eyebrows.  “You can go without me, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to.” You subconsciously reach for his arm, retracting your touch just as fast when he glances at it. Clearing your throat, you play with “I really should get going, I was supposed to be on a walk after all.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he gets up from his stool, giving his friend a brief hug before turning back to you and extending his hand for you to take. Your lips part to protest, feeling as if you’re holding him back even though it was his decision to stay behind, but before the words can even come out of your mouth he beats you to it,  “there’s no way I’m letting you go home by yourself this late, love.”

You sigh, shoulder dropping in defeat as you hold back a smile. Taking his hand, you stand up, “okay.”

The main street hasn’t exactly quieted down since you first walked by it, in fact, it only seems like it’s gotten rowdier. Time only increasing the buzz wandering in the air around the people filling the bars, voices louder, filled glasses clinking more frequently. As you stroll through it side by side there’s a comment or to that floats in the air, but you have to all but shout it, fighting with the turmoil of noise.

As soon as you turn into the first street away from the crowds it’s as if someone had turned off the sound completely, the nest of voices getting far-off in the distance and the loudest sound being of the night breeze kissing the tree branches above you. You can feel Harry glancing up at you from the corner of your eye and it doesn’t take long until his voice echoes in the air in an attempt to make small talk.

It’s surprising to you, how easy it is to be drawn in a conversation with him. Harry’s essentially not the same offstage as he is under the spotlight, most people aren’t. There’s no need for him to bloat his charisma when talking to you, he’s quieter. Shy, almost. And it takes you back a bit, to see such contrast in a short amount of time. 

The magnetic force to him, however, still lingers even when he’s like this. You feel drawn to it, wanting to hear him speak about everything that comes to mind, just to savor the way he articulates his words, voice so calm and low it sends an electric chill down your spine. As he tells you about his music inspirations, going on the story about the time he traveled alone to crash a Fleetwood Mac concert, hands brushing against yours when he walks, you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to link them together.

Once you reach your street, just a block away from the entrance gate of your home, you notice the front lights are yet to be turned off, indicating your roommates are still up and around -- most likely arguing about MTV’s top ten of the week. The realization makes you come to an abrupt stop, catching Harry off guard as he takes a few steps before realizing you stayed behind. 

“Wait.” You say once he turns around, brows furrowed in a silent question as to why you stopped. “Uhm… You can drop me off here… It’s fine.”

“What do you mean? Is it too far? I don’t mind walking-”

“No!” You interrupt. “It’s not that, my house is right there, see?” You point to the bricked building no too far from where you stand.

“Why do y’want me to drop you off here, then?” The crease on his face deepens.

“I-- it’s just--” you begin, not knowing how to say it. “It’s just the girls are still awake, and..”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, an amused grin expanding on his cheeks. “Don’t wanna get scolded for hanging out with the enemy.”

“Don’t say like that.” You chuckle at yourself, looking down in embarrassment. “They just will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I get it, bunny.” He takes easy steps towards you, closing the space as he stands tall in front of you. You hold your breath as you look up at him, meeting his irises glimmering in enjoyment, dimples shadowing on his cheek. His hand reaches up, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear and you swear if he gets any closer he’ll be able to hear your heart thumping in anticipation. “Had a lovely time with you.”

“Me, uhm--” you clear your throat as your voice cracks, blood flooding your cheeks. “Me too.”

The streetlight above gives his face a golden glow that almost takes your breath away, his hair glistening in the light due to the gel pushing it back, and now even more rebel strands curl against his forehead. You half expect him to lean down, you don’t know why he would, but for a moment it seems like he will. To your dismay, however, he steps back, giving you one last smile before moving out of your way on the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around, then.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“I have some exciting news for you.”

Abbey’s voice startles you, not realizing she’d entered the dressing room while you focused on the book on your lap. Since you’ve gotten a spot at every other weekend on the pub, your routine just seemed to get even more busy, with rehearsals almost every day. So, because of that you barely find time to do your assignments. And with a book report due just around the corner, you’d thought maybe you could sneak in some reading time after the gig when everyone’s down at the bar and not prancing and screaming around the dressing room.

 Your assumptions shows itself to be wrong, however, when your perky friend bounces her way to where you sit. She kneels next to the couch, crossing her arms on top of your legs and resting her chin on them, looking up at you expectantly, lips lifted in a side grin. 

“What is it?”

“Got us an after-party, babe.” you notice a few colored lollies in her hand when she removes the plastic protecting a red one, shoving it between your lips before you can even protest. “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’d love to but I have class tom—“ Your voice is muffled around the sweet. 

She rolls her eyes, standing to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. “You should stop wasting your life with an outdated system” 

“You mean getting a degree?” 

“Do you watch the news? We’re about to be the last generation to live fully, the world is about to break into nuclear wars all around.” She says as a matter-of-fact, turning to rest her legs on top of your lap. “Cosmo said we probably won’t even make it to the 2000s” 

“Who’s Cosmo?” 

She sighs, reaching to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her voice comes out soft, but calculated, “what matters is that we should enjoy our time while we have it.” 

“You’re giving a whole speech about nuclear war to convince me to go to a party with you.” You arch your brows at her. 

“Yes.” 

You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat as you let yourself be convinced. “Okay. But I’ll—” 

“Great!!” She squeals, moving her legs from your lap and leaning down to grab your face, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair before jumping from the couch, and out of the room. 

Once you arrive at the location of the after-party, Abbey leads you and Lena to a tall gate by the side of the house, explaining that you’re walking in from the back garden, considering the front door is locked. You find it odd, and if wasn’t for the muted sound of instruments echoing inside the bricked walls of the place, you’d doubt there was even a party happening here at all. The front of it was as regular as the other surrounding suburbian homes, grass neatly trimmed and the front lights turned off, as if nobody was even home.

Which is why you’re visibly taken back when you walk by the gate into the back area, finding an old vintage bus that could be around ten or even twenty years old, sitting in the middle of the grass. The wheels of it have been taken off, and every inch of the exterior is covered by graffiti, so much you couldn’t even make out the original color of it if you tried. Some of them are unreadable scribbles tangling on top of each other. Some are colorful drawings painted over them -- two sunflowers catch your attention, marked just above where the wheel would be, growing tall along the side and above the window.

“I know, right?” Abbey nods at your astounded expression. “Legend says John Lennon signed it somewhere.”

“Really?” You look at her, not able to hold back the way your voice pitches in amazement.

“Dunno, never looked for it.” She shrugs. “C’mon I’ll show you.”

She grabs your hand, dragging you to the side of the vehicle pointing at some random drawings and explaining the rumors behind their meanings. You try to concentrate on her excited babbles, but as you see Lena walking away from the corner of your eye you look up to watch her meet with a girl you’ve never seen. Before you can focus back on your friend, something else catches your attention, sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree, no too far from where you stand.

Harry’s in a small group sat in a circle. You recognize two men from his band sitting on the grass with guitars propped on their laps, one being the same that interrupted you the night at the bar. The rest are women who seem to have come right out of Fleetwood Mac’s tour bus, their long hairs pushed back with hairbands and earthtoned flare pants. But you barely even care about the ones sitting on the grass, humming along to the strings of the guitars. What grabs your attention is the one next to harry on the bench, her arm draped over his shoulder as she dabbles flower petals playfully on his hair. 

You hardly take in his appearance, half-mindedly noticing the tattoos decorating his arms that pokes out of his tank top and the twirls on his hair as the girl winds her fingers on it. it’s hard not to remember Abbey’s words when she said he knows how to sweet talk his way around, and the thought of having fallen down on his trap only makes your heart pang on your chest. 

“-- That’s basically why they won’t let anyone paint over it anymore.” You turn back to Abbey as she points to the sunflowers you’d spotted earlier, nodding along as if you’d heard everything she said. She looks at you, “but I like this way better, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah.” You agree, not exactly knowing what to.  

She wraps her arm around yours, and you grasp the minty scent of her perfume as she pulls you close. “Let’s go inside.” 

There’s an urge inside of you to peek back over your shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Harry, but you push it to the back of your mind, allowing Abbey to guide you around the bus where the entrance door is hanging open. 

A small group of people greet you inside the bus, amongst them is the said ‘Cosmo’.  He seems like the exact kind of person you’d imagine Abbey hanging around on her weekends’ escapades. Dressed in a baby blue velvet suit with nothing underneath his blazer except a few of - what you assume - hand-painted tattoos, matching with a rainbow stripe drawn on the side of his face, starting at the bridge of his nose and going all the way to the curve of his jaw. His hair hits just around his shoulders, the sides shaved so it’s like a puffed version of a mullet, edges dyed in a bright shade of red. He toys with a lit joint between his purple lips, picking it up and offering to you with a raise of his brows.

Normally you’d decline the offer, especially coming from someone you’d just met, but there’s an annoying feeling settling itself at the pit of your stomach. One you want to ignore but can only do so much to dull it, so you accept the joint, reaching for it and placing it in your mouth. 

You’re not a regular smoker by any means, and when you inhale you can feel the smoke burning your throat as it moves down to curl inside your lungs. It makes you want to cough it out but you hold it in, trying to take in everything before huffing it out in a choked breath.

“Do you want a drink?” One of the girls asks you, already pouring you a purple drink inside a labeless plastic bottle.

“What’s in this?” You accept the cup, giving her an skeptic look.

“Pure fuel, babe.” Abbey leans on your shoulder from behind.

You hang out in the bus for a while, and, to your surprise, you don’t feel left out as they keep notice to include you in their conversations. The drink ends up being not that bad, and, even having no idea what’s in it except for the very artificial citric taste mixed with some very strong cheap alcohol, you still refill your cup after you finish it. 

It’s a nice feeling, to get a bit looser in a party and allowing yourself to have some adventurous fun. And as time goes by and your mind gets cloudier, the group starts to disperse. Two of them find a spot in the back with as much privacy as they could get in a party to swallow each others faces. Another one passes out in one of the seats behind you, hugging the empty plastic bottle as if it’d run away from them. It leaves just Abbey and Cosmo with you, discussing with each other about something that you’ve stopped paying attention a long while ago.

You just watch them silently, resting your head back on the seat and feeling the late hours weightening on your eyelids. You feel like you could doze off at any moment, but what stops you from it is a loud screeching sound of an amplifier from inside the house. It startles you, making you jump slightly on your seat as you hear a voice speaking almost like a groan, and you’re not sure if it’s your drunken mind or the inaudible words but you can’t make out a single thing that’s being said. A crease deepens between your eyebrows and you turn to question your friend about it but, before you can do so what seems like the most obnoxious cover of  We Built This City starts playing.

Abbey gasps as the chords of the song somehow get even louder, grasping her hand on the man’s arm. “Oh my god!” She squeals, exchanging a look with Cosmo as they both all but jump from their seats. She glances down at you, “We’re going in, are you coming?”

You raise your brows at her, trying to hide the scrunch on your face. “I’m good.”

She nods, making her way out of the bus, her feet stumbling on each other as she holds onto her friend’s shoulder to keep her balance. And just like that, you’re left alone on the leather seat.

You peek at the couple in the back, eyes bulging slightly as you see the girl has lost her shirt, the boy’s hands caress her chest as they keep their lips locked harshly. Deciding to give them a bit more privacy, you make your way out of the bus as well, the contrast from the compact air inside the vehicle to the crisp wind of the outdoors sending chills down your body.

Looking around, you realize most people hanging around are gone, probably gone inside the house. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the spot you’d seen Harry earlier, and you don’t hold back the shock in your face when you find him still sitting on the bench, but this time with no one else around him. He fiddles with a lighter on his hand, flickering every so often to watch the weak flame before letting it die again. 

Your feet start to move before you can really grasp that you’re walking towards him, your head still a bit cloudy from the substances in your bloodstream. He looks up once you get close to him, signature smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you.

“Look what we have here.” He leans back, “a lost bunny.” 

“Hi, Harry.” You say simply.

His smile turns a bit softer. “Where are your bandmates?”

“Celebrating.” You shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“I am.” You hold up the mostly empty red cup.

He chuckles. “I see, having fun by yourself then?”

You focus on a spot beyond his head, suddenly feeling timid under his gaze. “Seems like it.”

“Want to join my private party here?” He shifts to his side, patting the spot next to him. “S’very exclusive, as you can see.”

“Well, I’m honored to be invited, then.” You sit down on the space he made for you.

For a moment, there’s a silence between the two of you, the only sound being the jarring cover of  Everybody Wants to Rule The World. The notes of it are so off that you can’t help but huff a relieved breath when it comes to an end, enjoying the few seconds of silence before they begin another song. 

A small groan leaves your lips when the noise starts again, catching Harry’s attention as you feel his eyes land on the side of your face. “It should be illegal to ruin great songs like this.” You shake your head to yourself, speaking your thoughts out loud in a rush of confidence. “They should get arrested for it.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

Your eyes dart at him, meeting his. It’s hard to miss the way his irises glimmer under the moonlight. When he glances down at the lighter still in his hands you take the opportunity to really have a look at him. The proximity makes you aware of a small constellation of freckles kissing his nose, and the stubble starting to poke out the skin along his jawline. You want to blame the haziness in your mind for the thoughts of how it would feel like to have it scratching against your skin. Or how it would feel under your lips as you nibble your way all the way to his rosy lips. You want to push these away, belittle them as nothing but drunken thoughts. But you know very well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let yourself be entertained by them.

A pitched scream takes you out of your head. You realize there’s been a beat of silence since he’s spoken, so you clear your throat, a warmth creeping up on your neck as if he’d been able to hear your thoughts. “Do you know them?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not really, no. They played in the pub once, Ronnie hated them.” He glances at you, corner of his lips itching upwards. “Call themselves Crystal Illusion, so there’s that.”

“Christ.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

The sound of his giggle makes you look back at him, catching the sight of his dimples carving deep on his cheeks. “You’re really something, aren’t you, bunny?”

“Why do you call me that?” The question rolls of your tongue before you can even think about it. His brows raise at your question, and you decide to enjoy the rush of confidence and pick on it further. “Dunno if I’m supposed to feel offended or charmed.”

 “Don’t mean it as a tease, can tell that much.” He smiles, shrugging slightly. “You just remind me of a bunny.”

The words pique your curiosity. “How so?”

He looks back down to his lap, and if it wasn’t for the poor lighting you would be sure of the blush taking over his cheeks. “Just all cute -- could tell you were a bit reserved, and like, curious. Had your eyes wandering all around when I first saw you.” He moves his head around lightly as if to explain his point and you have to bite back a smile. “And when you were focused you’d scrunch your nose a bit. Like a bunny.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say I have big ears.” You try to humor, searching for his eyes.

He laughs, looking up at you. “I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

Your gasp shifts into a giggle as you push him away playfully. “Well, if I’m a bunny...” You pause, racking your mind to think of an analogy for him, but your mind is still a bit slowed down, your thoughts taking a beat too long to catch up to your words. When you glance down to the arm that’s brushing against yours, you notice the tattoo peaking on his skin. You reach for it without thinking about it, fingers tracing the ink as you take in the drawing, his eyes follow your touch curiously. “Then you’re an eagle.” You cringe to yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, attempting to mask it as you breathe out a laugh.

He arches his brows, lips fluttering, trying to hold back a smile. “You think I’ll kill you?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” You cover your face with your hand, shaking your head at yourself. “Didn’t think that one through.” Your laughs meld together for a moment, slowly dying off and giving space a comfortable silence. The only sounds being the nightly hum of cicadas and the whisper of the breeze against the branches of the trees, that and, well, the faint screams of instruments from inside the house. Looking up at him, a breath hitches when you realize the proximity of his eyes to yours. You try to tease him but when you speak your voice comes out lower than you expected, almost in a whisper,  “so you think I’m cute?”

“Course I do.” He says in a blink. “Don’t think that’s much of a secret, love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not missing the way his eyes dart down on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrow teasingly. “Think I’m pretty?”

“I won’t inflate your ego if that’s what you want.”

“I tried.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes moving back down on your face but this time he doesn’t rush them back to yours, not hiding the intent of his gaze. For the first time, you’re glad for the background noise, afraid that if it wasn’t for it he’d be able to hear the thumping of your heart.“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re a bit taken back at the forwardness of the question.

 He moves his arm to rest on the back of the bench, turning his hand to play with the tips of your hair. “Can I kiss you, bunny?” He repeats.

You nod before you can find it in you to voice your answer, clearing your throat, “yes.”

The hand that’s not in your hair moves to caress your cheek, he takes a moment to look at you, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before he leans in. Your eyes flutter close instinctively, holding your breath in anticipation as you feel his lips on the corner of your mouth. He keeps them there for a beat before pulling back, tilting your face a little just to finally close the space between your mouths.

The kiss starts slow. Uncertain, even. His lips are soft against yours, warm breath hitting your cupid bow as he sucks in your bottom lip gently. You feel his hand cupping your jaw, sneaking behind your neck as he pulls you closer and you all but melt under his touch. Being this close you can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of cigarettes, and something about it is so sensual you can’t help but grip on his shirt as to have something to hold on to.

You can feel yourself getting lost on his touch, shamelessly scooping to the side as you enlace your thighs for the sake of being closer to him. His hand falls on your knee, rubbing it as your tongue line on his bottom lip.

It’s the sound of the door that leads to the house sliding open that falls like a bucket of ice water on your head, reminding you of your surroundings, and that you’re not, in fact, alone with him in the garden, which means any of your friends could easily spot you if they were to walk outside.

  It’s almost like he reads your mind when you pull away from him, loosening your grasp on the material of his shirt. His lips don’t let you get far, trailing their way along your jaw until he can bite on your lobe. “Relax, petal” He whispers, pulling back to look at you as your noses brush together. “They won’t see us, even if they do they’re probably too stoned to even care.”

You let out a weak chuckle, gazing at the door where a group of people stumble their way towards the bus, voices loud as they slur incoherent words. It’s hard to see inside the house as most of the lights inside seem to be turned off, but you can tell how packed it is, bodies pressed so close together it makes you wince slightly just with the thought of being amongst them. Looking back at him, you ponder for a second before nodding. “You’re right.”

A grin paints on his face before he leans in, closing the space between you once again.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Still with us?” A call of your name on the mic snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you’re met with your bandmates curious eyes staring right at you and you realize you’ve probably been too lost in your own head to pay attention to the conversation in hand. Your lips part for a split second, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t give away your lack of focus but a single look at Abbey’s arched brows and you know you’ve been caught. 

You clear your throat, lips tugging on a guilty smile. “Sorry, I am now.” 

It’s hard not to let your eyes glimpse to the back of the room, where the sole reason for your distraction sits quietly on his regular spot, tucked behind his journal and doing his own thing. But you hold back the stare, knowing your moves were being watched by your friend who’s back to talking about the setlist changes for the night, and who would not be happy in the slightest to notice your wandering eyes falling on the one person she despises the most. You wonder how she’d react if she got her hands on the piece of paper burning through the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

The message was short and simple, but the connotation behind it carried a much stronger meaning to it.

Meet me in the back before the gig, want to see you. -H

You found it tucked inside your case, lying innocently on top of your bass, apparent enough so anyone who’d opened the case could’ve found it before you. Surely, no one else did, otherwise, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from the minute you’d stepped into the place. Which makes you wonder how he managed to slip in the note sneakily enough without anyone noticing it, but the curiosity is well dulled in your mind by the pounding of your heart.

To your dismay, however, you barely got a look at him throughout the rehearsal. You got to The Blue Bird later than you’d intended to, the tutoring session you had on the day ended up running later than you’d expected. So by the time you stepped through the string curtains of the pub  Harry was already tucked on the shadowy corner and everyone else was hanging by the stage waiting for you, barely giving you a second to set your bag in the dressing room.

So it’s hard for you not to stare when he gets up from his seat, walking into the lighter space of the bar with his signature smirk painted on his face. You’d just gone through the last song of your set for the second time -- an amplified version of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Lena insisting on repeating it after messing up on the first try). He’s holding a maroon leather jacket on his arm, along with his journal, leaving his arms bare under his Bowie tank top -- which, as he approaches the stage you notice the uneven hem on the sleeves, suggesting he might’ve cut them off himself.  His hair is running wild as usual, the fringe curling against his forehead and you chew on your lip at the thought of running your hands through it as you did not even a week ago.

He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he reaches the end of the stage. “That was a great one, everybody, maybe if you keep it going we can get you a spot on that wacky show they’re premiering.” He sets the stuff he’s carrying on the stage floor, crossing his arms on top of it. “What’s it called again? ‘S like ‘gag me with a spoon’ or something like that.”

“We wouldn’t want to steal your spot again.” The words leave your lips before you can process them, for a moment forgetting you’re not alone with him so your playful tease can be easily interpreted as mocking. 

He rests the things he’s carrying on his arm on the stage floor, hoisting himself up almost effortlessly before picking them up again, walking the few steps it takes for him to stand in front of you. His lips are tugged on a shit-eating grin. “Got another feisty one in here, huh?” He crosses his arms under his chest, and you can’t help but note the way his muscles flex at the gesture, his tattoos dancing slightly on his skin. “What makes you so smug about stealing my spot? Reckon Ronnie only said he needed more chicks hanging around.”

“If that’s the case then there’s no need for you to be intimidated by a band of chicks, then.” You keep your eyes trained on his, but you can notice Abbey’s getting wider from over his shoulder. 

His lips twitch up, and you can tell he’s holding back a genuine smile as not to crack your act. “Am I intimidated now, bunny?”

“It’s what it looks like.” You shrug, now holding back your own smile.

“Maybe you need to take a better look at things then, angel.”  He starts walking backwards in the direction of the backstage. “Wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings, would we?”

“Don’t think we would.” 

And with that, he turns around, walking the rest of the way out and disappearing as he rounds the corner to where you know it’s the door leading to the back alleyway. You just stand there quietly for a moment, following his steps as you try to recollect what just happened. For the two of you, it was clear that the tension was the product of an unspoken want circling around, but you question for a second if that’s the impression that your friends had. And as you look at their expressions, raised brows and mouths agape, it’s hard to tell.

“Holy shit, babe.” Abbey is the first to speak out. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You hold back a relieved exhale, shrugging slightly as you remove the strap of the bass from your shoulder. “He was just getting on my nerves.” You face away from her, placing the instrument on the stand.

The anticipation of meeting Harry grows impatiently on your stomach as you try to find a gap where no one’s attention is on you to sneak out of the dressing room. It seems as if every time you think you can do it, someone pulls you in, either to try to push you another pill of something you’re not sure what it is or to ask you to help with their makeup. But as the room gets filled and people get higher, their focus become more diffuse, and finally, after finishing assisting Jaz with her eyeliner (her hands were too shaky to get it right) you manage to slip out the room into the corridor.

There’s a sense of recognition that takes over your body when you feel the wind messing with your hair as you step out the building to be met with Harry’s figure leaning back on the wall, not too far from the spot you found him the last time you’d been in this same position. His eyes shoot in your direction as soon as you step through the door as if he’d been waiting for this just as eagerly as you were. He quickly throws the butt of the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it before standing tall as you slowly approach him.

“Hi.” You say simply, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts -- not knowing with to do with your hands.

“Hi.” His grin grows. “Came back here to intimidate me?” He teases, biting on his bottom lip.

“Actually,” you scrunch your lips, deciding to play his game as you reach on your back pocket, retrieving the small piece of paper and holding it up. “Got this very desperate note from a secret admirer but I don’t see any hotties here.” You click your tongue, looking around as you let out a loud sigh. “Guess it might be just a misunderstanding.”

He laughs, hands reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “That’s too bad, guess you’re stuck with me”

“Yeah?” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer so that your chests meet and his forehead falls against yours.

He nods in response, your noses brushing gently before he leans to meet your mouth with his own.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s a thrilling feeling that settles deep within you when it comes to holding a secret.

It’s that spark of excitement that brings a kaleidoscope of butterflies to come alive on your stomach. The kind of feeling that makes every cell of your body feel not just simply alive but as if it’s burning with joy. Which is why you guess falling into a routine of sneaking around with Harry on secret little rendezvous was so easy, to begin with. 

Of course, your friends’ opinions are important to you, but you know that you’re an adult very much capable of making your own decisions. That means sleeping with anyone you’d like despite their ill opinions about the person, without having to sneak around as if you’re teenagers hiding from your parents. You know that, and you try to remind yourself of that every time you catch yourself lying to them about your whereabouts at every coming day. 

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure that there was anything to it except for a couple of innocent kisses, maybe some not-so-innocent touches here and there, but nothing really worth even telling anyone. You’d only really see Harry on the weekends. When he would steal moments with you before your gigs when you “had to take a breather”. Or when mysteriously disappeared from your friends’ sides during after parties after they already had their minds buzzed and noses backed up. Or even when your night walks would tart becoming gradually longer due to your curiosity getting the best of you once you found yourself in front of the familiar Pub on Harry’s nights.

The weekends’ escapades took a different turn when they graduated to weekdays. Things took a quick turn then. It started with him offering you a ride to the houses for your tutoring or to the library (stealing kisses every now and then, of course). And before you knew, you were making up classes or books to rent for your oblivious roommates, only to spend hours on Harry’s car. Coming back with puffy lips and messy hair.

Part of you felt bad for going behind their backs, every now and then feeling an urge to pull Lena aside and gush about him for as long as your heart desired.

But it’s the thrill of it, of having something that’s just yours to have, that no one else knows except the two of you. The adrenaline that comes with the possibility of getting caught at any moment, but being able to get away with it. It’s almost addicting to you, so you prefer to have these moments just to yourself.

As the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, it just made it harder for you to tell them you’d been hiding a whole relationship for this amount of time. Well, not exactly a relationship, but as close as you ever got to one anyway.

And it’s not like you’d never had anyone before. Being in the music scene, you’ve had your quite a few amounts of flings — even though not as many as it’s expected. But no one has ever left you as enamored as him, especially not as quickly as he has. He’s intriguing, carrying around that mysterious aura around him that leaves everyone wondering the secrets he holds in his heart. 

Although when it’s just the two of you it’s like this cocky persona of him completely dissolves. It’s a complete contrast from the image he carries around the restless mouths of prying people. He’s not that enigmatic heartbreaker who hops around strangers beds as if to live that classic Rock ‘n Roll lifestyle you see on TV. Rather, he’s shown himself to be the most caring man you’ve ever been with.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position, your body awkwardly positioned on your side in the rear seat of his car. A hand tangled on his hair while the other pulls at his Bowie shirt, you know your lips are probably starting to get swollen and his are taking a raspberry tone from the way they’d been sucking at one another. So with that in mind, you part from his mouth, trailing kisses along his cheek, and a final one at his nose before sitting back on the seat.

Just as you predicted his rose-colored lips are plump as he grins back at you, his locks are wild on top of his head. His hair has grown around his jawline now, curls poking out in all directions and you can’t help but reach your hand to pull his fringe back from his forehead. His smile growing fondly and eyes fluttering shut as you run your hand through his strands. 

When you pull away you catch a glimpse of your wrist clock, cringing slightly at yourself as you realize you should start thinking of heading home.

“I have to go soon.” You let your hand fall to your lap with a sigh.

“Already?” He pouts. “Barely had any time together.”

“We’ve been here for two hours, silly.” You giggle at his dramatics, leaning to press your lips on his chin.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close. “Exactly, barely any time.”

He turns his head to connect your mouths once more before pulling you against him so your head rests on his shoulder. You look beyond the glass of the windshield to the nearly empty street -- saving from a few people walking back from what you assume is a day of work

He’s parked on the usual spot two blocks away from your house, and from this angle, you can see the front gate that leads to the entrance. The front seat of the coupe still folded forward as there was no reason to set it back to place considering the circumstance in which you were on the backseat. You had called home from the payphone in front of the library, letting Lena know you’d be home late to catch up with some studies -- another lie to your pile.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you -- apart from the low voice of the radio Dj interrupting A-ha’s Take On Me in the background. If you move your head just right you can hear his speeding heartbeat, and if wasn’t for the faltering on his breathing you’d assume he was just as relaxed as you are. You move away from him, his arm falling around your waist, looking at his profile as he pokes at his jeans, a crease between his eyebrows.

You rest your cheek against the leather seat, grasping his chin with your fingers and gently moving his head so his gaze meets yours. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He breathes out a laugh, shrugging lightly as he brings his hand to scratch at the tip of his nose. “Nothing much.”

“But there’s something.” You insist, being able to tell he’s pondering over something.

“It’s just-- I just thought--” he pauses with a sigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, waiting patiently for him to express his thoughts, you can tell he’s a bit nervous which is an adorable change from his regular charming demeanor. “I wanted to maybe-- like, we could have a date.”

. 

You straighten your posture, lips parting as you take in his words. “A date?”

“Yeah… A proper one, you know?” He shrugs, eyes darting back on yours. “If you want to, that is! Don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

“I do, H.” You nod, chewing on your lip as you try to recollect your thoughts. It’s not as if you don’t want to go on a date with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But turning it into a formality just changes completely the scheme of things and, as much as you felt like this is an inevitable step to take at some point, you still feel protective to an extent of this secret you have between the two of you. So you can help but let your voice come a little apologetic, “it’s just--”

“I know.” His shoulders drop and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

“Hey.” You caress his cheek. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” His lips perk up in a small smile, and you lean forward to give him a peck.

He’s still looking at you with puppy-like eyes and it does nothing to help the heaviness in your heart from turning him down. You lean again this time to spread kisses around his cheek as an attempt to pull a giggle out of him, but you only earn a light chuckle so you seat back tilting your head to look at him with a pluck of your lips. “C’mon where’s my smug rockstar gone?”

“He’s right here.” The shadow of his dimples appears on his cheeks. His voice comes out low and gentle, as if he’s still pondering over what you said earlier, “just toned him down a bit.”

You sigh, trying to rack your brain to another subject that can distract him from it. You catch sight of the slightly smudged end of his eyeliner, and your face lights up as you remember a request you’ve always wanted to bring it up. “Do you want to know something?” Biting back a cheeky grin, you cross your arms under your chin as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Should let me do your makeup, so you can be a proper rockstar.”

He lets out a laugh. “Do I need that, now?”

“Mhm, said it yourself, it’s part of the look.”

“Did I say that?” You nod, teeth still biting on your lip. He lets out a breath, contemplating the idea for a second before looking back at you. “Okay then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Course, could never say no to you even if I tried.” He lets his hand fall on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “On one condition, though.” You arch your brows in question. “Come to my gig tomorrow.”

You face scrunches in confusion. “I always go to your gigs.”

“Yeah but I mean go earlier, like so we can hang out before and stuff.” His finger starts to draw circles on your knee. “So you can do my makeup, too, can go on stage looking all pretty.”

“As if you could ever look anything less than pretty.” You say before sitting back, thinking of his proposal. “You’re asking me to be there early…”

“What? D’you have plans already? Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” And there it is, the teasing Harry you know.

You shake your head, poking his side playfully. “Oh yeah, maybe I should’ve mentioned him sooner.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes before looking at you, his voice coming down to a pleading tone. “Come, please.”

Before the yes can roll off your tongue you remember that you wouldn’t be alone with him. “What about your band?” 

He furrows his brows. “What about them?”

“Well, do they know?”

“They couldn’t care less about us, baby.” He sighs, head falling back on the seat as he moves his hand so it rests on your inner thigh, rubbing a spot in there. “Have no meaning hiding you.”

You can’t hold back the smile that grows on your lips, leaning to press a kiss to his mouth before letting professing in just above a whisper, “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“‘S poking my eye.”

“Shh, quiet.”

“You’re rubbing it too harsh.” Harry grabs your wrist, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you.

“I’m being gentle, you’re just not used to the feeling of the brush.” You argue, keeping a finger under his chin so his head is tilted upwards as you shuffle on his lap. “Now close your eyes, I’m almost done.”

He lets out a huff, trying to feign annoyance, but the slight twitch of his lips and the subtle appearance of his dimples break his facade. You know as much as he won’t admit to it, he’s quite enjoying having you propped on his lap, fingers stroking gently his eyelids while you hum along to The Cure’s record that’s mixing with the murmurs of the other people in the room.

To your surprise, you’ve come to realize that the dressing room is significantly less chaotic when it comes to Harry’s band. The place is not nearly as packed as it can get during your nights, in fact, apart from the band itself, there’s only a handful of people hanging around. And as much as you notice their bloated pupils and stumbled walks, they mostly keep it to themselves, sharing around a bottle of vodka to wash down their pills.

Like Harry had assured you, his bandmates couldn’t be less bothered by your presence amongst them. And as much as you recognize all from the numerous gig you’ve been in before, and that according to them your name has been frequently mentioned by Harry himself (which did make his cheeks turn into an adorable shade of red), it’s nice to be formally introduced to them. In fact, they were so quick to treat you as one of their own that you could feel a slightly guilty feeling expanding on your chest from the number of times you’d heard your friends bad mouthing them in attempts to joke around. 

You swallowed the feeling back, though, accepting a plastic cup they poured with champagne (which you learned is a tradition before gigs) and making a conversation.

“Are you done yet?” You feel the vibration of his voice on that back of your fingers that touch against his throat.

“Yes,” you say with a final stroke of your brush on his eyes, sitting back to admire your work with your teeth carved on your bottom lip. “You can open your eyes, baby.”

He blinks his eyes open and you can’t help the smile that breaks through your lips as you examine the contrast of the burning red eyeshadow with his jade irises as he looks back at you. “How do I look?” 

You grab his cheeks, leaning down to press a quick peck on his lips. “Like a proper rockstar.”

“Yeah?” He grins once you let your hands caress on the smooth skin of his chest poking through his unbuttoned blue blouse. “Think I can finally get some groupies now?”

Scoffing, you swing your hand to shove him back playfully with a roll of your eyes. You try to move away but he grabs hold of your wrists, pulling you in again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like it.” His hands fall to your waist, bringing it closer as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

His lips meet your on a slow kiss, allowing you to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick you’d applied earlier, the thought of messing it completely lost in your mind as you tilt your head to deepen it even more. His fingers now grip on your hips over your denim skirt that has ridden up considerably since you first propped yourself on his lap. For a moment you just stay like this, tangled on each other’s arms, every so often you scratch on his neck, pulling his hair just a bit so you can swallow the most delicious mewls.

He parts from you as slowly as the kiss started, pecking on your lips a couple of times before letting his head fall back, hands moving to rub at your thighs over your pink tights. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at you with a smirk, voice coming low as if he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you, “can we go to the back?”

“Sure.” You unstranddle him, adjusting your skirt as you stand up and offering your hands to help him to his feet. He takes them, almost bringing you back down on the couch as he pulls a little bit too hard. 

Once he’s up he takes a look at himself on the mirror in the wall opposite to the couch, a pleased smile on his face letting you know he likes the result of your work. He reaches for your hand then, guiding you into the hallway and out the back door you’ve become so familiar with.

Walking into the alleyway, he walks to his usual spot, leaning back on the wall and pulling you with him. His hands easily find their place on your waist once again, fingers tapping against the fabric of your skirt anxiously. Looking down at you, there’s anticipation on his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell you something but is waiting for you to bring it up.

“So,” he begins, eyes darting around as he parts his legs a bit, enough to fit you between them as he pulls you closer.

“So…” You say, drifting off as a way to encourage him to keep going.

“I’ve thought about the date thing.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his har. “Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be doing that?”

 He shrugs slightly, looking down to where his fingers fiddle with a loose strand of your vest. There’s something very endearing about seeing him so nervous, a complete opposite to how he carries himself in public, as this cocky and confident guy. You’re grateful that he allows you to see this side of him, though, bringing your hand to caress his jawline as you wait him to speak his thoughts. “Yeah, but I had like, an idea, or whatever.”

“Do tell.”

“I thought we could do--” he shakes his head a bit. “We could go to a place that’s still more reserved, and stuff.” 

��Like?”

“I dunno, I--” he chews on his lip, a habit he’s starting to get from you. “Thought we could go to my flat and like hang out, we could go to that diner that has a drive tru and get something to eat and go back to my place.” 

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” You tease, not being able to hold back a smile.

“It’s not like that, I just--” he huffs, cheeks getting a bit flushed as he tries to explain himself. “Just if you’re comfortable with it, of course, we can still go around on my car if you prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Harry?” You hold his cheek, moving it so his eyes can meet yours. Rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin, you try to soothe him, shooting him a fond smile.  “I think that’s a really nice idea.”

“Yeah?” You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, I can, like, call you before I leave home so you can go to our spot and I can pick you up, yeah?” It’s the fastest he’s speaking since the moment you walked out of the building, voice a pitch higher. “How about Friday?

“Great.” You giggle, tangling your fingers on his hair to pull him down so his forehead rests against yours. Lips brushing, you blink up at him, jade eyes flickering around your face, “I can’t wait.”

He smiles. “Me too.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

An annoyed puff leaves your lips as you notice another typo in one of the words inked in the paper poking out of the typewriter. You grab it maybe a bit too forcefully, this being the fourth time in a matter of minutes you had to do this. Taking it out of the platen, you reach for the whiteout conveniently prompted next to you, carefully correcting the error before putting the paper back on the machine.

With the end of the term peeking around the corner, you’ve been finding yourself in this position more often than not. Either rushing with your essays or grading assignments from your students. No matter what the arrangement is, however, there’s always a guarantee to have a half-empty mug of coffee and a pile of textbooks spattered on your desk. 

This time around is no different, as you lean back on your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face, you try to focus on Cyndi Lauper singing in the background as a way to relieve your stress. You can feel the inkling of a headache deep inside your forehead, indicating maybe it’s time to give yourself a break, So, you try your best to relax the tension out of your muscles, breathing in the soft chamomile scent of the burning candle on your nightstand -- it’s one Lena gave to you to help with the stress a few days ago. What disturbs you from your moment of meditation with Time After Time, making you snap out of your breathing exercise, is the ringing tone of the telephone echoing through the house. The sound comes into your room a bit muffled thanks to your closed door, but it’s still enough to irritate you.

You hear closely to the sounds outside your door, waiting for Lena, who you know is propped on the couch downstairs watching TV, to pick up the call and cease the annoying tune interrupting your moment. And as you predict, in just a few minutes the ringing noise stops as quickly as it started, making you relax back on your chair. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself go back to the moment before the interruption, untensing your shoulders. You can hear the pound of heavy footsteps coming up the wooden staircase, but don’t process them getting closer until your door swings open.

Lena is standing in your doorway with an expression that’s hard to read at first, her brows set on a slight frown her hairline and mouth agape. Before you can tell her off for her sudden entrance she’s already speaking, “can you tell me why the fuck Harry Styles is calling our house looking for you?”

You can feel your heartbeat falter at her words, eyes widening as you glance at your bunny-shaped clock and realizing you had gotten so lost in your studies you forgot about the date. “Shit,” you get up so fast from your chair it falls back on the rug. You turn to Lena, who’s watching the scene with the most amused smirk on her face, “is he still one the line?”

As soon as she nods you’re stumbling down the stairs, almost falling down on the last steps but catching yourself up on the railing. You reach for the wired phone lying upwards on the hallway stand, picking it up and walking into the closest door - which happens to be the coat closet - closing it behind you.

“Hello?” You sound out of breath, heartbeat roaring in your ear.

“Did I fuck it up?” His voice is hesitant, nearly remorseful, it makes your heart drop.

“I-- no, you didn’t.” You reassure, leaning back on the wall of the tiny space, instantly regretting your decision of not choosing the restroom in your panic state.  “I just got caught up with an essay and didn’t see the time passing.”

“Do you want to reschedule?” He drags out the words as if he doesn’t want to say them. “We can do this another day, I don’t mind.”

“No!” You protest quickly, reaching back to roughly adjust a hanger that’s poking on your neck, causing a raincoat to fall on your feet. “Of course not, I really need a break, anyway. I want to see you.”

“Want to see you, too.” You can hear the smile on his voice. “What about your friend?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple slightly. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll be at yours in around fifteen, is that good?”

“That’s perfect, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a bit then…” He drifts off, as if he wants to say something else, but stops himself.

“See you.”

The familiar sound of the deadline takes place and you sigh, letting your head fall back on the wall with a thump and staying like that for a moment. When you step out of the closet, the first thing you see is Lena leaning against the railing of the stairs, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You bitch.”

Your shoulders drop, not wanting to have this conversation right now, as you put the phone back on the base. “Can we not do this--”

“You’ve been fucking him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Abbey is gonna throw a fit when she knows this.”

“You’re not gonna tell her.”

“I’m not.” She agrees with you. “But she already knows you’re sneaking out with someone.”

“She does?” Your voice gets higher, eyes widening slightly.

“She might be high as a kite most of the time, yes, but she’s not stupid.” She chuckles. “And you’re not the best at hiding either, or you thought we wouldn’t notice you’re barely at home anymore?”

You frown your mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Does she suspect that it’s him?”

“Not really no, thought it was one of your students.”

You can’t help the horrified look that takes over your face. “I tutor children!”

“Ooh,” she breathes out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, he’s probably the last person she would suspect.”

“She’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “But she’ll just have to get over it.”

“I guess.”

Lena looks at you, dropping her arms as she walks to you. Holding into your shoulders, her expression softens. “Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go get ready for your date.”

“You’re right.”  You sigh, nodding. It takes you a second, but as you process her words, you frown, squinting your eyes at her. “How do you know we have a date right now?”

Her hands drop, mouth scrunching as she waves her hands around. “I just guessed.”

“Were you listening on the line?’

“Of course not!” She steps away.

“Adeline!”

She backs away, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen splattered on her face. “It was just a bit of it! I was curious!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I’m gonna cut the cord of that phone in your room.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you take a careful step in her direction, causing her to go up another step. There’s a beat of silence where you two just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. When you finally give in, racing towards the staircase, she stumbles up the rest of the steps, the sound of your giggles mixing together taking over the space.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s an instant sense of comfort when you see Harry’s lime green Ford parked on your usual spot, one that gives an extra pep to your walk, pushing all the stress you’ve been dwelling with to the back of your mind. And as you relax into the leather seat, windows down and radio up, you let yourself enjoy the anticipation of spending the rest of your day with him that settles deep in your stomach. 

You’d always wondered what Harry’s apartment would look like, imagining his LP’s splattered across the place, along with loose papers filled with guitar riffs and song lyrics. Maybe a couple of plants here and there, from what he told you he had tried to take care of one or two before, but always ended up forgetting to water them on schedule. And there’s also a notion inside of you that two young men living together in an apartment are bound to live in somewhat of a nest, so you brace yourself for the piles of beer cans and video game wires tangling on the floor.

When he opens the front door for you, letting you walk in before him, it does surprise you to find a tidier place than you’d expected his living room to be, but you realize you’d not been much far off with your assumption. It’s clear this is a house of musicians from the second you step in, the first sight being two guitars leaning on the wall next to the mud green couch, surrounded by - you guessed it - loose papers, which you assume are filled with scribbled ideas. A wall piano also stands out across the room, a single ashtray standing on top of it next to two candles, where you assume comes the faint scent of vanilla comes from.

“Sorry about the mess,” Harry speaks out from behind you, shrugging out of his usual denim jacket and throwing it over the couch arm, looking back at you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s alright.” Your teeth sink on your bottom lip as you take in the sight of him. Without his jacket, he’s left with just a wine-colored half-buttoned blouse, sleeves rolled up to his elbows so some of his tattoos are exposed. Part of the hem is tucked inside his low waist jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly it makes you want to grip your nails on it. Shaking your head, lightly, you let your eyes wander around the room once more, so he doesn’t notice you gawking at him. “Was expecting worse, to be honest.”

“Do you think that little of me?” He feigns offense.

You giggle, taking a lazy step towards him, shrugging. “I just don’t expect two young men to know the basic of cleaning, that’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, taking a moment to just look at you. When a silence settles between the two of you, you raise your brows at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He clears his throat, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Sure!” You nod. “Do you have, like, beer or…”

“Yes, yes I--” he stops, face lighting up in realization. “No wait, I have something better.” He strides towards a door to where you assume the kitchen is, calling over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you pull your purse off your shoulder, letting it rest beside Harry’s jacket on the couch. Glancing over your shoulder, there are no signs of him coming back, so you take the opportunity to snoop around the area. 

There’s a small center table in front of the couch, probably the messiest part of the room so far, a few movie magazines splattered around with another ashtray lying on top of it, a few butts of cigarettes long forgotten along with their ashes. Next to it, is a VHS cover of </i> Ghostbusters, a rental receipt paper scrambled on top of it. What calls your attention is a couple of cassette tapes, some with titles you recognize from being Harry’s songs scribbled on top of them but others don’t have a label, which leads you to assume they must be blank. 

You walk around the table, gazing to the tv stand, where a poster of Freud is stuck on the wall behind it -- and breathing out a laugh as you notice someone had drawn glasses and colored his beard with a red sharpie. A bookshelf stands next to it, completely filled with records (apart from a single succulent that has a piece of paper with the name “Ziggy” glued to it). Your curiosity gets the best of you, picking up some LPs on random and what does surprise you, is the lack of a common theme between them. Finding a bit of everything, from some very recognizable names you’ve seen Harry rock to, like Billy Joel and The Clash, to some you’d never even heard him speak of like Culture Club and even a brand new Madonna record.

You have just picked up the cover of Ladies of the Canyon when his voice startles you from behind. “Mitchell, huh?”

Turning back with the record still in hands, you look down at it. “I love her.” You glance up, taking notice of the glasses in his hand, filled with a liquid of a yellow so bright it reminds you of a highlighter. “What’s this?”

“This,” he hands you a glass. “Is a drink we made.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You made this?”

 “I’m a man of many talents, bunny.”

“It looks like poison.” You bring the glass up to your nostrils, taking in the strong scent of alcohol. “Am I going to be poisoned? Is this a big plan to get rid of your rival’s bassist?”

“Stop being silly.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s mainly pineapple and vodka, takes weeks to be done, proper fancy stuff, you know?”

“Oh yeah super fancy.” You tease, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.“Pineapple and vodka.”

“Shut up and drink it.” He says, watching you carefully as you slowly bring the brim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of it. An instant sweet taste of pineapple invading your tastebuds, but the vodka is so present it makes you scrunch your nose. Harry gives you a small smile, eyes trained on you as he waits for your verdict, “so…”

“It’s strong.” Your face is still a bit rumpled from the alcohol, but you relax it eventually taking another sip of it, this time quite more prepared for it. “But it’s good, tastes like pineapple and vodka, who would say?”

“Shut up.” He chuckles, taking a step back and propping himself down on the couch.

With the record still in hands, you turn to put it back where you found it, admiring the full bookshelf once more. “Got a nice collection here, Styles, I gotta admit.”

He sips on his drink. “Found something you fancy in there?”

“A couple.”

“Put on something you like.” He motions to the record player standing next to the shelf. You look through the vast collection again, picking some at random and putting it back once you realize it’s not what you’re looking for. After going through a few, you finally stumble upon Elton John’ Madman Across The Water, holding it up to show it to Harry. “Oh, so we’re in one of those moods?”

You pull the vinyl from the sleeve, carefully placing it on the player and adjusting the needle over it. As the beginning note of Tiny Dancer float through the room, you look back at him. “What mood?”

 “Like, a happy-sad kind of mood.”

You nod, setting yourself on the couch next to him. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

As the first few songs swim in the air around there’s a light chatter that settles between the two of you. Nothing out of your ordinary conversations, mainly consisting of you gushing over John Taylor as Harry rolls his eyes and sips on his drink to mask the drop of jealousy that grows on his chest -- “He’s not that good looking, you lot should have better standards” he said with a huff, making you giggle at his antics and pinch his cheeks. But it doesn’t take long, barely going halfway through the record, until the two of you begin to feel more lightheaded, eyes glossy and tongues getting looser. You should’ve expected that from the very first sip of the drink in your hand, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than a glass of it to get you right boozed up. And it doesn’t help that which each sip of it the sweetness of the pineapple takes over the strong taste of the alcohol, and in a matter of a few songs, you already feel your mind soaring away.

Harry is not much different, you realize, becoming quite a bit of a giggly drunk as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and slurred words coming out of his mouth (which only makes him laugh more at himself). From what he told you, it hasn’t been the first time he and Mitch attempted on making the drink themselves. They tried it at a cramped bar right outside a Tears For Fears concert and it had gotten them so knackered so quickly they went back the next day to ask the barman (who also happened to be the owner) what was it in. Turns out it was just watermelon and vodka, but the man also explained that the technique he used that took about two weeks for the drink to be ready. From the man’s explanation, it seemed simple enough so they decided to try it for themselves, except they replaced the watermelon with pineapple.

“Just to add a bit of fun to it.” He shimmies his body.

“Is it like the original, though?” 

“‘S close, but not quite his.” He hiccups. “I’m convinced he left out some of the details, the bastard, didn’t want to go around giving out the secret formula of it.”

You giggle, biting into the brim of your glass. “I’m curious to try it with watermelon, now that you’ve mentioned.”

“You have to, bunny!” His head falls back on the couch, dimples so deep you want to bite into them, his hand strokes lazily on your thigh, every now and then moving up to rub at the hem of your playsuit. “I’ll take you there sometime, we can get baked and crash into a concert at the music house that’s right in front of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When the blue of the sky outside begins to fade into a golden glow, ribbons of pink and orange cutting through it, you’re already completely far gone. The record player is now only letting out a faint buzz from the lack of sound now that the LP is over. Your head is filled with clouds and you don’t register when Harry reaches back for the guitar, only really registering it once he’s stringing out a familiar melody. He stumbles with the lyrics but as soon as you recognize the beginning line of </i> Big Yellow Taxi you’re joining him, your voices tangling in a high pitch as you more of scream the lines than really bother to sing it. Harry gets completely lost in it, and you let him take over every so often just to watch him, mimicking Joni Mitchell's voice and even enacting her laugh, which makes you laugh until your belly hurts and your cheeks get flushed.

It’s one of those moments you want to get locked in, to live in it forever. Watching him stumbling the lyrics of different songs, the words tumbling out of his mouth between giggles, fingers stroking the cord of the guitar maybe a bit too harshly as you join him without a care in the world to who may be bothered by it. You feel so free with him, it’s a feeling that takes over your whole body, a warmth of knowing you don’t have to filter yourself or fit any type of expectation. And as he ends another cover with violent strokes on the guitar you laugh along with him for a moment before letting the room quiet down. Crossing your arms over the back of the couch and resting your cheek against it, you just look at him.

His bloodshot green meets yours, his chest rising as he catches his breath from the frantic songs, teeth sinking on his bottom lip as he smiles at you. “Gonna slow down a bit fo’ you.”

You raise your brows at him, smiling in anticipation as he begins to smooth his fingers through the cords much more gently than he had been previously. His head moves along to the beat as he gazes down at the instrument, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows in concentration. It’s a complete contrast from the playful demeanor that had taken over the room just minutes ago.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me.” He begins, and your ears instantly perk up as you identify the same song you’d heard him play months ago at the pub, the one that made you enter it to watch him for the first time. “You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”

It’s much different now, however, not just from the fact that he’s singing it on his own without the band backing him up. But it’s the meaning behind it, the rawness of his voice, low and slightly raspy, the words still come out a bit mumbled but you couldn’t care less about it, only focusing on the emotion he puts to them. 

“Love of my life, can’t you see?” His eyes are still set on the guitar and you search for them almost desperately, shifting closer to him and cupping his cheek, guiding him to meet your gaze. “Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.”

The swell in your heart is overwhelming to an extent, his glossy eyes looking into your with such sincerity it makes you want to jump on him, but you hold back as he keeps going, feeling nearly hypnotized by his voice.

“Because you don’t know, what it means to me.” He leans into your touch, turning to press a quick kiss on your palm as he keeps stroking the chords in a quiet melody. “Love of my life, don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but shake your head slightly as he sings the lyric almost like a plea. “You’ve stolen my love, and now desert me.” He looks back down at the guitar, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. “Love of my life, can’t you see?”

“Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.” Peeking under his lashes, he grins up at you, and you can only imagine how you must look to him. Mouth slightly agape, barely blinking as you’re scared if you do this will all turn out to be nothing but a dream. His voice comes out next a bit lower, stretching out the words, “Because you don’t knoow.”

He strokes the chords a bit mindlessly now, playing with the sound of the melody, and he does it so effortlessly you almost hold your breath as not to miss it. “What it means to me.”

When he stops, you don’t really think before latching yourself on him, throwing one leg on each side of his thighs, and cupping his face before meeting his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps an arm around your back, his other hand taking the guitar off his lap and blindly placing it against the wall next to the couch. Once the instrument is no longer a barrier, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You can taste the memory of a pineapple still lingering on his tongue as you lick into his mouth. The kiss is hungry, maybe a bit sloppy thanks to the substance still very much present in your bloodstreams, but you don’t mind, only moving a hand to tangle on his hair, scratching at his scalp before pulling at his roots. 

A whimper escapes from his mouth, getting lost inside your throat, his grip on your thighs tightens, nails digging in it and you know will leave crescent shapes on your skin. It only makes you do it again, this time his head tilting backward with a small groan, disconnecting your lips, but you’re soon to connect it again, splattering kisses along his jawline until it meets his neck. When you suck on his pulse point, running your tongue over it, his skin vibrates on your lips as he lets out a whine. His hands are now running all over your thighs before resting on top of your ass, bringing your hips to grind against his.

Even with your hazed mind, it’s still hard to miss the very prominent bulge under his jeans. It makes you pull back, looking down to see it straining against his zipper. There’s a flip of a switch inside of you when you realize how much he’s yearning for it, it’s the desire you’ve been pushing back for months now, crashing into you like a wave and you can barely contain a small mewl at the sight.

“Bunny.” He breathes out. When you look back to him, you notice his eyes have darkened considerably. “We don’t have to--”

“Please.” You let your forehead fall against his, rolling your hips again, stealing another whimper from him. “If you want to, I want to.”

“I do -- fuck, I do.” He nods as you keep grinding on him, his hand disappearing on your back pocket, trying to get as closer to you as possible.

When you meet his lips again, the kiss is somehow eager than before. The longing is evident as you grab onto each other. Your hands travel down his chest, nails digging softly on his exposed skin, and once you feel the fabric of his shirt, you’re quickly to undo the rest of the buttons, not disconnecting from him as you do so. Smoothing your hands back up to his shoulders, you help him shrug off the material, letting it fall to the couch without paying mind to it.

“Wait,” he sneaks between kisses, hands coming up to your waist you push you off gently.

You watch with your brows narrowed as he gets up from the couch, walking to his shelf and standing in front of it, looking for something. Leaning to your side, you let yourself admire the muscles of his back as his fingers run through the edges of the records. It’s impressive how even though his collection takes over the whole furniture, he still seems to know exactly where to look for it, focusing on a small section right at the top. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, pulling it with a ‘Aha!’ before turning back to you. 

He holds up a very familiar black cover, the imprint of Queen’s Greatest Hits instantly calling your attention. Doing the same as you’d done earlier, he takes out the disk, placing it on the player before adjusting the needle over it. You watch it with a smile teasing on your lips, finding oddly endearing how he made you pull away from him with the sole purpose of putting on a soundtrack -- making notice to put on something you’d like, as well. He cranks up the volume as the first words of Bohemian Rhapsody start to swallow your thoughts, turning back to you and offering his hand with a cheeky grin painted on his face.

Taking his hold, you let him pull you up from the couch and, before you can really register it, he’s guiding you through the hallway. You stumble on your footing as he rushes a bit to fast for you to really wrap your head around it, the walls of the corridor passing by almost in a blur as it takes your mind a beat too long to catch up with your eyes. Still, your giggles dance along with his all the way to his door at the end of it, making you feel like a couple of teens sneaking out for the first time.

He doesn’t give you a single minute to take notice of his room -- not that you would at this moment, your arousal pooling at your underwear only enhancing the haziness of your mind. In just a speck of a second, he’s already pushing the door closed, your body being pressed against it not long after. His arms find their place on each side of your head, his lips searching hungrily for yours as your fingers find their home between the strands of his hair once more. 

“Shit, need you so bad, baby.” he presses his hips against yours, mouth hot as he sucks in the skin of your jaw, all the way down your neck, finding a spot that makes you whine under his touch. “That’s it, darling, let me hear you again.”

“Harry,” you mewl as his teeth sink on your skin gently, his tongue swiping quickly over the spot before he trails back to your cheek. You melt under his touch when his hands find their way back on your body, one of them caressing the side of your breast softly, thumb poking out to rub the spot where you nipple pebbles under your layers of clothing. This brings out a desperate whimper from your throat, your head falling back on the door as you close your eyes, trying to savor every slight touch of his. “Please.”

“Look so fucking pretty in this piece, bunny.” The sound of his voice is right below your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making the hairs on your neck rise. “Look gorgeous in anythin”” he turns his head to bite at your earlobe. “But I really need it gone right now.”

Your eyes snapback open when you feel him pull back from you, his hands finding the front buttons of your playsuit, fiddling them open so easily you barely register it. His lips are back on yours, this time slower, letting his desire be known at every brush of his tongue. Smoothing his hands on your shoulders, he helps you out of the sleeves of the top. As soon as your back is disconnected from the wooden door, you start moving forward before you can really think about it, pushing him back gently until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s sitting back on the bed.

There’s hardly a speck of green left on his darkened irises when he looks up at you, watching your every move as you shift the material down your body, letting it pool on your feet before you kick it to the side. Taking a slow step towards him, his hands holding onto your hips almost unconsciously, you reach back to find the hook of your bra, but he stops you before you can even quite grasp it. “Wait,” he pulls you closer, making you fall a bit awkwardly on his lap, your hands moving to grip on his shoulder for support. “Let me.”

You adjust your position on top of him, your knees resting next to his thighs, as he handily unhooks your bra, removing it quickly from your arms and tossing it to the side. A gasp escapes your mouth as he wastes no time before attaching his mouth to your breast, tongue circling on your nipple before sucking in. His hand tries to give the same attention to the other one, grasping onto it as his thumb caresses the pebbled nub.

The crescendo of the song comes muffled in the background and it’s as if it’s echoing inside your head while you mindlessly roll your hips against his. The motion makes the lining of his zipper rub deliciously against your clit under the thin fabric of your underwear, and it reminds you of his hardening length pressing on his jeans. It seems to remind him as well, as his mouth parts from your chest in a groan, his lips licking at the space between your breast, kissing all the way back to your neck, where he hides his face with a strangled moan when you grind down a bit harder.

“Can’t take the tease, baby.” He pants. “Need you right fucking now.”

You pull back from him, gazing down at the tent on his pants and bringing your hands to fiddle with his belt. It takes you a bit longer to manage to pull it out, as his eager lips attack your neck once again. At this point, you can only imagine the marks he’s made on your skin, knowing the reddened spots will soon come to a purple shade, but it’s the least of your worries as you pop the button of his jeans, opening up the zipper. 

“Stand up just for a sec, darling.” He taps on your hip and you do as he asks, stepping back to plant your feet on the floor.

He shifts out of his pants, bringing his briefs along with it and you watch the way his cock all but jumps out of its restrains, slapping back on his stomach. The tip is a reddened shade darker, a trace of precum already oozing out of it, dripping down his length and making you rub your thighs for some sort of relief as you feel your mouth watering. You want to reach for it, grasp it as you feel it throb on your palm. You want to trace the prominent veins adorning it with your tongue and discover all the sounds he makes when he’s all but begging for you to wrap you mouth around it already. But more than anything, and what speaks louder to you at the moment, is how you want to feel it deep in your belly, rubbing against your walls until your legs shake.

“My eyes are up here, love.” You look up at him, a smug grin on his face as he draws you in by your hips.

“Can’t help it.” You watch his fingers play with the waistband of your cherry colored underwear, meeting his eyes as you let yourself mess with him a bit. “Just have such a beautiful cock.”

“Christ.” He groans, yanking your panties down your leg, making your arousal drip down your thighs. His lips immediately trace on your pubic bone, hands travelling to grip on your ass as his teeth sink into your skin slowly. “Didn’t know you were this filthy, bunny.”

You enlace your fingers on his strands, pushing his fringe away from his forehead as you mount him again. “Only for you.”

“All for me? What did I do to deserve you?” He smiles, pecking your lips and pulling your closer so you can feel his cock poking at your stomach. “Why don’t you lie down for me?”

You shake your head, pushing his shoulders back gently until his back hits the mattress. “You lie down.”

“Shit, baby, gonna sit on my cock?” He shifts back just slightly, watching you sit back on his thigh as you grab his length, giving it an experimental pump that makes his breath audibly hitch. “Fuck-- such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You chew on your bottom lip, flickering your palm over the tip and collecting a bit of the precum before rubbing it once more. He lets out a strangled moan, head tilting back on the mattress, his curls splattered around him like a halo. Which is an ironical contrast to what you’re doing to him. 

His voice comes out in a breathy, chest moving frantically as he peeks down at you when you give him another slow pump. “Please, darling, don’t torture me right now, need you so bad.”

If it were another occasion you wouldn’t listen to him, simply continuing your teasing as if he hadn’t said anything at all. But right now you can feel your wetness pooling where you sit on his thigh as you all but throb for him at the sight of his angry cock in your hand. It’s just as much torture to you as it is to him to keep this going any longer, so you just shift up, gabbing his base and rubbing it along your folds one, two, three times, before finally aligning it with your entrance.

His nails dig on your thighs in anticipation, his eyes watching with barely a blink as you slowly sink down. Your mouth hangs open but nothing except a choked gasp comes out of it. There’s a delicious burn that comes with him slowly spreading you open for him, and when you fully sit down your eyes are teary and can’t help but clench around him, earning a full moan in response.

“So fucking tight.” He pants, chest moving up as he takes a sharp inhale when you clench again. “So wet too, baby, drenching me.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You lean forward, hands lying on each side of his torso as you pull up the tiniest bit just to sink down again.

You want to start slow, gradually fastening your pace but you can’t seem to hold yourself back. As his hands grasp on your hips you start to bounce on him at a hard pace, your moans meshing together as well as the faint vocals blasting outside the closed door. Rolling your hips on his, he hits spot that makes you sit on your heels again as you throw your head back, crying out his name. 

It’s hard to keep focus as you mind is blurry from the pleasure that takes over every cell of your body as well as the alcohol still running freely on your bloodstream. All you can focus on right now is Harry. It’s his hands gripping on your skin, helping you fasten your pace. It’s the sound of his voice pitching on a needy whimper, telling you how good you feel around him. It’s the sight of his face creased in pleasure when you look down at him, the veins staining his neck and his locks sticking to his damp forehead, cheeks rosy and lips plump. He’s the only thing in your mind as you chant his name under your breath like a quiet prayer.

“Is my cock that good, bunny?” He meets your thrusts with his hips, making you sob out a moan. His lips tug on a smirk, “Look at you helping you helping yourself out on my cock -- fuck, look like a proper dream.”

There’s a familiar tightness in your stomach, one that makes your toes curl and your rhythm falters. “I’m almost there, shit.”

“Won’t last much longer too, baby, feel too good.” He groans holding your hips in place when you stumble on your pace again, deciding to thrust upwards, your pelvis meeting in loud smacks. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me see you looking all pretty when you cum all over my cock?”

“Harry, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, your eyes closing as you roll back your head. A trifling cramp is starting to set on the back of your thighs but you barely pay any mind to it as the bliss takes over your whole body. You’re so close to your high you can almost reach it, just needing a small push.

“C’mon, baby.” Harry urges you, hand reaching where you’re connected to rub at your clit harshly.

And that’s all you needed, opening your eyes as a couple tears fall down your face when you feel your orgasm taking over you body, the white ceiling feeling far away like an imagine you watch on the television. You’re not exactly sure when Killer Queen started playing, but as the waves of euphoria hit your body, you can hear the guitar solo ringing in your ears, the crescendo of the song only enhancing the thrill of your high as you ride your orgasm along with it.

You practically collapse  down on his chest, his hot skin sticking to your body. He’s still panting under you, warm breath hitting your neck as he holds onto your ass, his thrusts coming sloppier as he comes right after you. The sensitivity of your center makes you whine along with his strangled moans when he holds his hips to yours,burying himself in you as he paints your walls white.

For a moment you just stay like this, cheek resting on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down by the minute blending with the music coming from outside the closed door. His fingertips trace patterns on your bare arm that’s hugging his torso and keeping him close. You can feel your mind getting clearer, not just from the alcohol but from the high of your orgasm. And as the sound of the soft wind knocks against the window glass, you’re almost lulled to sleep just like this. 

Harry shifts slightly, you feel his lips pressing on your head before he carefully moves to sit up, letting you fall back on the bed gently. “Mind if I have a smoke, bunny?”

You give him a lazy smile, shaking your head as you look up at him, reaching for his locks that poke wildly on his head. Leaning down, he gives you a quick peck before getting up. Turning to your side, you watch as he looks around the room, finding his briefs thrown by the end of the bed and quickly putting them back on. He grabs the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter and heads towards the window.

Opening up the window, allowing the evening breeze to slip through the crack and dance around the room, he pulls a chair leaning on the wall to sit directly by it. The chair is stacked with colored cushions on top of it - one yellow, one red, and one blue - he throws two of them thoughtlessly on the floor next to it, adjusting the remaining one on his back as he leans down to sit on it. The stool is low enough so he can relax his feet on it comfortably, fingers fiddling with the lighter for a second before rising it to meet the end of the cigarette resting between his lips. Freddie Mercury still sings loudly in the living room, the sound coming a bit muffled thanks to the closed door, but making it as background noise as you come quiet to admire his figure against the last creeks of sunlight hitting the side of his profile.

You chew on your lip at the scene, wishing you could record it somehow and play it every night before falling asleep. There’s something inherently erotic about having him smoke a cigar just on his underwear, humming along to the tune of the song, right after having you scream his name into his pillow. 

The light streak of wind coming from the window breaks you out of your thoughts, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you come to the realization that you’re still sitting naked in his bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find your panties hanging from the edge of the mattress, picking them up to quickly slide them up your legs before you get up to search for your other articles of clothing. You can see the colorful pattern of your playsuit lying next to the closed door, but as you crouch to pick it up something else catches your attention in the pile of clothes thrown around mindlessly on top of a wooden chest

It’s the pink shirt. The same one he wore on the day you first saw him play.

A grin takes over your face as you pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders and sliding your hand on the sleeves. It has the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of cigarettes, something you’ve come to associate with him. You don’t bother to button up the material, letting it hug your body as you take a quick look at yourself in the full-body mirror leaning on the wall in front of you. You turn to him, his eyes still focused on the view outside, a thin coat of smoke leaving his lips and getting lost in the breeze, so you clear your throat as to get his attention.

He looks at you, eyes shamelessly scanning down your body and you’re afraid the cig will fall from his lips as they grow on a smug smirk. 

“Look at you,” he lets his feet fall from the stool, fixing them on the floor as he motions for you to get close. You approach him without a second thought, climbing on his lap as his hands hold onto your hips. He takes another look at you, grasping the cigarette with his fingers and taking out of his lips. Reaching for your face, his thumb caresses the side of your eyelid gently. “Looking like a proper rockstar now, even got the smudged makeup.”

You giggle. “That’s more your fault than mine.”

“I guess it is.” He taps the butt of the cig on an ashtray prompted on the stool of the window, eyes still trained on you. “Should do it more often then, s’fucking hot.”

You smile at the connotation, picking at the hem of the shirt and gazing at him from under your lashes. “Guess I might be starting to like pink, that’s also your fault.”

“Look way too good in pink not to like it, bunny.”

“Stop that.” You hide your face on the crook of his shoulder.

“Telling the truth.” His free hand grips on your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head to kiss at your neck. “Looks good in everything.”

“Could tell you the same thing.” You pull back to look at him, teeth sinking on your bottom lip as you smooth your hands down his bare chest.  “But I do prefer this fit on you, really brings out your eyes.”

“Naughty.”

You lean to connect your lips, hugging him close with your arms wrapped around his neck and enjoying the tender moment as you distribute kisses around his face just to hear him giggle. And when you bring your mouth to his again, you barely feel the softness of his lips before he all but jumps on his skin. You pull back, furrowing your brows, ready to question it but he beats you. “Forgot I got something for you.”

“For me?” You blink. “What is it?”

“Go sit on the bed while I fetch, will be just a minute.” He gives you a quick peck before you’re pulling away.

You do as he asks, sitting back on the bed, right next to the wrinkled spot where you lied just  minutes ago. He walks across the room, opening the door where you came from and disappearing in the hallway. The record is still blasting through the apartment walls, sound coming louder now that there’s no barrier between you.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to look around his room, something you didn’t get a chance to do when you first came in tangled on his arms. It’s not much messier than the living room, really, only the small piles of clothes you’ve spotted earlier that give the illusion of an untidy room. There’s a light wooden dresser that sits next to the chest, and from where you sit you can see two candles standing alone on top of it, similar to the ones on the piano. 

You swing your feet on the edge of the bed, letting them brush along a blue fluffy mat that hugs the floor underneath it. And as you run your hands on along his mattress, you notice the soft superficie, making you look down at a knitted blanket spreaded across the bed. It’s made of different colored squared stuck together in an oddly comforting pattern. You want to lie down on it, and let yourself be swallowed by the cozyness of the material against your skin, but before you can do so, Harry appears back in the room, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to you.

“This blanket is so nice.” You run your hands through it, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I knitted it.” The information makes your eyes bulge out, you open your mouth to inquire further but he’s already talking again. “This is-- uhm, I dunno, just something I thought you’d like it.”

The small box in his hand catches your attention as he hands it to you, his eyes looking down at it and even with just the moonlight illuminating the room you can see the blush on his cheeks. He props himself down on the spot next to you, watching your fingers turn the rectangular box around. It’s a cassette tape case, you quickly realize.

When you gaze at the back of it, there’s names of songs scribbled behind it. Not many, but a good collection of them, from Fleetwood Mac to The Bangles, and even Billy Joel. And it doesn’t take you long to find a pattern with the song chosen for the tape. Their all love songs. It makes your heart swell even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“These are so cheesy,” you bite your lip, barely able to contain your smile.

He rolls his eyes. “They’re romantic, bunny.”

You keep examining the titles written neatly in his handwriting, raising your brows when you land on a specific one. “Every breath you take?” You tease, “That’s an interesting take on romance.”

“Shut up.” He giggles, eyes watching you carefully. “Do you like it?” His voice is adorably hesitant, it makes your heart stumble on a beat.

“I love it.” You say in just above a whisper, feeling the butterflies in your stomach get a little more vivid once your eyes land on the last song scribbled in the back of the tape. Somebody to Love. Brushing your thumb over the words softly, careful not to smudge the paint, you look up at him to find his green irises glistening at you. You shake your head almost in disbelief at the tenderness behind the gift. “Did you record this just for me?”

“Uhm yeah some of them I did but—” He looks down, focusing on his fingers as they pick a loose string from the blanket under his leg. “Some of them I just... Sang”

“You sang?” It takes you by surprise, how you thought there was no way he could make you feel warmer.

“Yeah… All of them, actually.” His dimples dig deep on his cheeks as he quickly peeks his eyes at you. “It’s just… The quality is shit when you record it from the radio and the dj keeps interrupting and stuff.” He shrugs, “Thought if I sang it could be more, personal? I guess.”

“I love it.” You repeat.

“You do?” 

“I do.” You chew on your lip, watching his eyes glimmering on the dim light of the room. “Is there a reason for this sudden present?”

“Kind of I--” He clears his throat, fully glancing at you. There’s an expectation behind his eyes, you can tell from the way he takes a sharp inhale that he’s nervous. “Thought I make you-- ask you, actually, if you’d be mine?”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he looks, your eyes getting a bit glossy as you nod without a blink of a thought. “Of course I’m yours, Harry.”

“Yeah?” His smile grows. “As like, m’girlfriend?”

Throwing your arms around him, you press your lips against his cheek, careful not to drop the tape in your hand still. You pull back, tilting your head as giving him a fond smile. “As in your girlfriend, yes.”

[silentwonderlocks]

Enchant Me *Loki x Reader* Chapter 1

I wrote this for fun, so please enjoy. I do plan on making this a short little story. The beginning takes place before Loki evades New York, then progress with Ragnarok, Infinity War and Endgame but Loki lives  Warning: Mentions of torture, Thanos being a d*ck.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2767 

It was a peaceful day like no other if it weren’t for the constant screams with loud booming explosions following behind. The bright green grass of the land now scorned with fire and destruction. The clear sky was filled with dark clouds, big metal weapons of mayhem that floated in the air right above the city. You watched as people scattered looking for a means of safety but met with pain.  

The loud ringing in your ears made it hard for you to hear your own screams as you searched for your parents. You ran around fighting through anyone that tried to stop you or pull you to safety, but you did not care. You were just a child, scared for her parents rather than for her own life. You ran past dead bodies, craters in the ground searching for anyone that might have looked like your parents but you found no one.

‘Mother! Father! Where are you!” You called out in the midst of the smoke, seeing the invading army rounding up what was left of your people. Without thinking, you ran into the maw of the beast. In the rows of the people together, you called out again and again until one of the soldiers dawned in gold and black armor harshly grabbed your arm. The soldier cursed at you to keep quiet and threw you to the ground making you cry out in pain. 

He sneered with pleasure at your pain, lifting up his spear ready to plunge into your body, that is until he saw your eyes change color from Y/c’s to lavender color with cat-like slits. You bellowed out a high pitch scream at the soldier knocking him far back, not wasting another moment. You got up and began to run until a giant man with light purple skin stared down at you. His golden armor told you he had to be the leader of the army. 

“Oh little one, what’s the matter?” He asks, looking down at your small frame. You were covered in dirt, bruises and blood that wasn’t yours. 

“my...parents..I need to find them..” You spoke with heavy breaths preparing yourself to fight once more. The man chuckled softly but amused. “Such determination...come with me little one.” With those words, he held out his huge hand waiting for your little one in his. 

You stared at him hearing the screams of your people suddenly stop. 

“We’ll use that potential of yours for a great purpose” He spoke proudly as if he had a grand plan already in the works.

With no parents, no home, and no planet, you did the only thing you could do and that was accept the deal with the devil himself.

That was nearly 18 years ago when your home Aciilnt was invaded by the mad-titan, Thanos. He wiped out nearly the whole population and took you as his adopted daughter. Your home planet was like any other planet in the galaxy, beautiful, full of life and culture with dark history. There were two main people that lived on Aciilnt, the Sirens and the Aciilntians. 

The Sirens proudly lived in the lakes and oceans nearby where they learned water magic, shape shifting abilities and their trance like singing. On the other hand, Aciinltians were the complete opposite. Proud and honorable people, who trained their young to either be great warriors or hard working farmers.

 The war between the Siren people and the Aciilntians was the most common knowledge on your planet. The two species used to live in peace until the Siren people were deemed dangerous by the Aciint’s government after an unstable Siren attacked local people during a celebration. They feared the mind controlling power of the siren’s singing The Siren people were given two options, have their vocal cords removed leaving them mute or be banished from the planet. 

Many chose to have their vocal cords removed to try and have a normal life while the rest of the Sirens chose to be banished rather than give up their dignity.  Soon enough, the government began to purge for sirens who still had their powers, fresh born were killed and those who were caught were sentenced to life as a slave for the wealthy. 

Your mother happened to be one of the Sirens that chose to stay on Aciinlt and fell in love with your father, a simple but honest man. Together they had you, the perfect siren and Aciintian hybrid. Your parents were terrified because they knew if the government found out, then you would be killed. So your mother birthed you in secret and once you were old enough to learn how to do simple things at a young age. She taught you to change your eyes so you would blend in with everyone. You almost got away with it until that soldier had forced you to expose yourself and now here you were on Thanos’s ship as one of his many adopted children.

 Since you were brought upon the ship, you were taught to fight and learn how to use your powers to serve your stepfather along with your adopted siblings.You had mastered your singing to put foes in a trance then make them do your bidding, You were now able to change your small appearance to help blend in for certain mission, and your water magic was terrifying yet powerful. 

Out of all the siblings, Gamora and Nebula were the two that you got along with. Gamora had already been on the ship for a few years when you first met her, she was cold and distant with you at first. She wasn’t used to having someone near her age, and to top it off someone with powers as yours. She didn’t want to be near you. The only time she would be near you was in your room that you shared, when you ate together, and when you fought with her when your father wanted to test your skills. 

You both were equally skilled so it was mostly a tie between you two.  After a year of being together on the ship, Gamora had gotten into a fight with Thanos and came to the room in a fit breaking things, ranting about how much she hated her life and she hated Thanos. Instead of turning her away like she had done to you, you had decided to show her some sympathy. You told her about your hatred, you told her about the day you lost your life to the mad- titan and you also told her that she made you feel like you weren’t alone even if she didn’t like her. You were happy to have someone to suffer with. Gamora soon after that warmed up to you, then Nebula came along. 

Nebula was a different story, she hated all of her siblings and wasn’t trying to make bonds with anyone. She was devoted to her father so much, and was willing to do anything to make him proud. So when it came to you and Gamora, she despised you both and wanted to prove she was the superior daughter. Her hatred grew deeper when she would be challenged against the two of you and always lose, resulting in Thanos adding upgrades to help her improve. By the time the three of you were in your teen years, Nebula had almost lost most of her right side becoming half cyborg. 

You honestly hated hearing her screams of torture when Thanos worked on her so you would ask your father for permission if you could be with her to try and give her comfort and support. He denied every time saying that it was Nebula’s punishment for being weak so she needed to accept her pain. So one day Nebula finally won a battle against you because you had let her win and you took your punishment instead which was a scolding from your father.

 It took a lot more time for Nebula to warm up to you and when she did, you were happy to have two sisters. One you could talk to and one you could spar with. The three of you were unstoppable, the assassin daughters of the mad titan warlord Thanos. 

Now here you were standing in your room, staring out into the void of space relieving your memories of your old life. You hated Thanos, you hated your life, you hated what you had become and you wanted to run but that would take time to plan and units. So you decided to wait for the perfect moment to betray your father and escape away.  

You glanced at your reflection, your lavender eyes piercing back at you, your hair was neatly in a crown braid, the black strapless corset with black tight pants and a purple jacket that fitted around your body felt weird. Your father told you that today was a special day for you to wear something nice. He was supposed to have a meeting with someone to help him find something he called The Infinity Stones. You wondered about this stranger and couldn’t help but scoff to yourself, the poor guy didn’t know what mess he or she would be getting into. 

“Sister, are you ready?” Gamora asks, standing in the doorway with her long ombre hair done up neatly like yours. Her outfit is similar to yours but with a red corset and a black jacket instead. 

You sigh, turning yourself away from the window to stare back at Gamora. 

“Of course sister, come we mustn’t keep father waiting” You responded with ice in your tone as you said the word father. Gamora knew and shared your hatred as well so she just nodded and began to walk down the hallway to the meeting room. You followed her out watching her walk in front of you. As you passed by several training and torture rooms, you knew that you would not miss this place. Your sisters, you would dearly miss but then again they were not your real siblings. Putting your thoughts away, you caught up to Gamora  walking by her side. 

“Nebula is there with father?” You ask first, keeping your eyes ahead. “Ready and waiting, you know she’s gonna scold us later for not being good daughters” Gamora responded, stopping in front of a large door with alien language encrypted on to it.  You nodded to your sister that you were ready and the door opened letting a bright blue light emerge. Inside the room was a large  grey chair in the center of the floor that was twice the size of you and your siblings. Your father proudly sat upon it dressed in his infamous golden amour with your sister, Nebula by his left side waiting. A golden specter in his hand with a bright blue stone in between the two pongs. She sneered at the two of you for making your father wait but before making sure to keep herself in check. 

“Ah..my daughters, finally you grace us with your presence” Thanos began as he held out his hands for you and your sister. Gamora stepped first, letting Thanos lead her to his right side then you stepped up letting your father lead you next to Nebula. Now facing the direction that your father was, you now took full notice of the man in front of you.  

The man was tall, he had to be about 6 ft and over, his black, green and gold leather clothing told you that he was royalty. He was a handsome man with sharp cheekbones, ebony shoulder length hair that was slicked back. His eyes were a deep emerald green that seemed to pierce through your soul.

 His demeanor was something you’ve never seen or felt before. It felt terrifying but sad? It confused you to your core of why this man was intriguing you so. You felt his eyes on you as well, taking in your form. He studied you as you did him, since you knew this would not be the last time you saw him. “Now. Speak of your ambition.” Thanos began making the man’s eyes switch to him. 

“I am Loki of Asgard, or better known as the God of Mischief. I am burdened with a glorious purpose to achieve my rightful place as king! I have come in need of an army” His voice..was alluring and confident. The accent in his voice was deep and a bit husky. The way he spoke, told you that he was determined to get what he desired. 

Thanos smiled and began to hum as he straightened himself in his chair. 

“Glorious purpose? We all have a purpose...a destiny to fulfill. It all arrives the same, the question is what will you do for me? You offer me nothing for my services.”

“I offer you Earth and all of it’s worms that they call their people. I offer you their blood, their screams.” The man called Loki responded with a slight tone of desperation. 

Your father stayed silent for a moment. “Perhaps we can come to an alliance.On Earth, there is this powerful object called the Tesseract. Inside of it, is one of the essentials to my great plan. I will give you an army, Earth will be yours to rule. I only ask for the Tesseract in return, understand?” 

Loki stood up straight, eyes still fixed on your father. “ I will not disappoint you”

Once you heard Loki say that, you felt your heart drop since you knew what your father did with his alliances. Thanos smirked with malicious intent. 

“We’ll see”  

You could do nothing but watch as your father took the specter and plunged it into Loki’s chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you hear his screams ring out, your father wanted to show Loki that he was not one to be disappointed or betrayed. You couldn’t bear to think of what he was making Loki see or feel but you swore that you saw his eyes water. What made it worse was that his eyes were no longer on your father but on you. They held such pain and terror that you almost thought he was begging for help. You gave him a sympathetic look before looking away. You couldn’t have your father seeing you be weak, Loki’s screams continued until your father had enough and made him pass out from the mind torture.  

“Y/n, take our guest to his room. I want to make sure he’s fully prepared for his mission.” Your father stood handing you the tall scepter. “ Give him this for his mission. Don’t be afraid to make him grovel to our will.” 

Gripping the specter tightly in your hand. You stared up at your father with a harsh glare. “Of course Father.” With your words, Loki was picked up by Gamora and carried him to his chamber for now. You followed her admiring his features. 

His face was bruised and scraped, his eyes were puffy with some red around them. 

‘He’s been in more pain than today..” You thought to yourself as the door opened welcoming you. 

Gamora flops him on the bed and proceeds to give you a look beginning to walk out but then she stops. “Y/n you can’t save everyone from father” She says, turning her head to look at you slightly.

“I'm not trying to save anyone, I just can’t stand the pain ” You stated factually as you watched Loki fidget and turn in his sleep. Gamora nodded once before leaving you alone with the god of mischief.  Deciding to give the poor man some relief, you crouched beside him and began to softly sing a lullaby to help ease his pain. 

You lightly grasped his arm to sing soft melodies in his ear. All you had to do was sing a few notes and anyone would be under your spell. Once you saw his face soften up and relax slightly, you pulled away to stand back up.  

“Sleep...and may you never have another bad dream..”  A soft smile rose to your face seeing Loki relax completely and just look peaceful before he would endure your father’s wraith. Leaving the scepter by his side, you exited the room and proceeded to the next mission.  

[galaxy-lilies]

Of Bullets and Roses (Karlnapity AU)

Warnings: guns, violence, descriptions of injuries, scars, and such.

A/N: This idea came from the early days of dsmp casino Quackity when we didn’t know much about the lore. There are definitely a lot of typos and grammar mistakes so rip me. I know I posted a link to the google doc a long time ago but I finally made it in tumblr post form :]

The Main Story

Quackity was known as the right hand man of Schlatt and for the longest time it was just the two of them. That is until Schlatt kicked the bucket. After that it went to crap to say the least. His business was doing just fine, he just got into a few...scuffles. He touched the scar across his left eye, a reminder of the power of the SBI and their brute Technoblade. It's a pity their young one had friends related to Quackity's connections, he couldn't get rid of them...yet.

He flipped a coin mindlessly in his hand. He owed a favor to the DreamTeam. After Schlatt died, he lost territory and allies fast. Quackity had come to them crawling on his knees. It wasn't a pretty sight, but he had to do whatever he needed to in order to keep his business alive. One of them felt pity for him, if that counted for anything.

His name was Sapnap. He was the arsonist of the group and the one to do more inside jobs albeit with a fiery twist. They had run into each other a few times, not very often though.

One of his grunts caught his attention and he beckoned them over. "Any news from the big guy?" Quackity asked, pocketing the coin. "Not much yet, Vice. We're expecting them to send in a message at any second though." Quackity hummed thoughtfully, looking at the spinning door leading into the casino.

To say the least he was surprised to see only Sapnap step through along with another man. The man was dressed in a mess of different colors, his smile a little too happy and aloof for someone Sapnap should know.

Quackity raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything about it. "Hello there Sapnap, long time no see." Sapnap smiled although it was a little too sinister for it to be kind. "We just talked two days ago, did you already miss me?"

Quackity scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself." He peered over to the other man who seemed to be enraptured by the decor of the lobby. "And you are?"

The man perked up, holding out a hand. "Karl Jacobs at your service, sir!"

Quackity didn't take the hand. "I see. Well nice to meet you Mr. Jacobs."

Karl awkwardly let his hand fall to his side, but it didn't seem to phase him too much.

Quackity brought the two of them to his suite and they began discussing the current situation: trying to undermine the SBI and increase the profits and territory of both the DreamTeam and Quackity.

Eventually, Quackity pulled Sapnap to the side. "Hey, I don't know why you brought that clown over if all he ever did was goof off and not pay attention to the plan. What was that all about?"

Sapnap chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that if I were you."

Quackity was about to ask when Sapnap made a turn around motion. That’s when he saw multiple red lasers pinpointed on his chest. He looked up to see Karl with a toothy grin and a gun like contraption in his hand.

Turned out Karl was a sniper and he was damn good at it.

Quackity stared at Karl wide-eyed and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Sapnap leaned close to his ear.

"You don't want to get on Karl's bad side much less the other side of that gun," he teased, patting Quackity's shoulder. He headed back to where Karl was sitting, the gun long since stashed away.

Karl's smile didn't seem as friendly as before.

The first mission was simple: try to take out one of the main SBI members, in this case the second eldest Wilbur Soot. If that didn't work, they would try to establish one of the three within the parameters of the organization and try to destroy it from the inside.

“And explain to me why I am being dragged along again?”

The three of them stood outside of the main SBI headquarters. They watched as people headed inside and out, waiting to sense a pattern and to scout out who was a guard and who was not.

“We need someone who knows how to talk to people just in case the outfits don’t work. Besides, it’s better to bring in someone just in case things go south,” Sapnap explained. He was dressed in business attire in hopes of blending in if they needed to enter through the entrance of the building. Quackity and Karl were in similar outfits however Karl only had a dress shirt, basic dress pants, and a ridiculously colored tie. Quackity on the other hand wore a navy blue vest-suit combination. He had to put in a colored eye contact and make-up to cover his left eye to avoid any stares or recognition.

Quackity jumped a little when Karl placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be such a worrywart Quackity, everything will be fine.”

He looked at Karl skeptically, but didn’t say anything in response. Sapnap began explaining the plan again. While Sapnap would go in to try and talk to Wilbur, Quackity and Karl would scout out the building and try to find where the main SBI quarters were located.

“This building is a facade after all: basic businesses and employees in the front, a whole other business in the back.”

Sapnap had no problem entering the building, it was only when Quackity ran into someone on the way to the elevators. Quackity almost fell to the ground from the impact and he would have if Karl wasn’t there. He was about to give this person a piece of his mind when he looked up and immediately paled. He recognized that pink hair from anywhere.

“Oh pardon me, I didn’t see you there,” apologized Techno. He was dressed in business attire as well, however his clothes were definitely nicer than the normal employees.

“I-it’s no problem really, I guess I’m used to it,” Quackity said, trying to stay calm. If Techno wanted to say anything about his behavior he didn’t comment on it. The elevators dinged open and he stepped through. He looked at Karl and Quackity raising an eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to come in or not?”

The two quickly shuffle in and the doors close. Techno pressed a floor and Karl pressed a random floor near the top. Techno glanced at the floor number. “Ah, you two are the new business employees aren’t you.”

“Y-yep! First day at the job,” Karl said. Quackity wanted to point out how bad Karl’s acting was, but he couldn’t in the presence of Techno.

There was a good amount of silence before Techno broke it.

“You know, this is the executive elevator, only allowed for important personnel. It’s explained even before the first day on the job.”

Karl and Quackity paled.

“But it’s an honest mistake I suppose,” continued Techno, adjusting the sleeves of his suit. “At least, it would have been if you didn’t happen to remember that the employees are only allowed access to the first twenty floors.”

Quackity barely had time to comprehend what happened, but when he looked Karl and Techno had pulled out a gun at the same time. Thankfully both of them were smart enough not to shoot in such a small space.

“Hello Quackity,” greeted Techno,“long time no see.”

Quackity chuckled although it was somewhat weak. “I could say the same thing, Techno.”

“Wait, you know this guy??” Karl hissed, still focused on Techno. Techno growled. “Enough talk: why are you here.”

Quackity glanced at the floor numbers. They were almost to floor 35 where the doors would open. “Oh you know, I just came here to break up a little family reunion. After all the pain I endured, I feel it’s only right to give back in the same way.”

That’s when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Without missing a beat, Quackity dragged Karl and the two made a run for it. Techno followed in pursuit, the three on a wild goose chase.

Eventually the two ended up in a random room. They didn’t know what floor they were on and they didn’t want to find out anytime soon.

“You know if you told me we would be running from the Technoblade I would’ve worn better shoes-” Karl panted, trying to look for an exit.

“Tell me about it,” Quackity said, trying to listen to see if he was near. Karl glanced at Quackity. “How do you think Sapnap is holding up?”

“Seeing how badly this is going, probably not so well,” Quackity admitted. And he was right.

Instead of running into Wilbur, Sapnap ran into Tommy. Tommy assumed that Sapnap was a normal employee and he assured Sapnap that he would be able to find one of his brothers to help Sapnap get to the right floor.

“I honestly don’t know where they could be. Usually they’re talking to a bunch of big businessmen you know. Important shit like that.”

“Uh-huh,” said Sapnap mindlessly, half paying attention to what Tommy was saying.

While Tommy filled in the silence, Sapnap was hoping that Karl and Quackity were doing alright. However, his worry only skyrocketed when he saw Technoblade heading their way.

To say the least he looked pissed.

“Hey big guy, what’s going on?” Tommy asked, walking a little bit ahead of Sapnap to reach Techno sooner.

“There are intruders in the building, you need to go to a safe room now.”

Tommy gawked. “Really now? Isn’t the security in here like. Top notch or something?”

Techno sighed. “Tommy, please. Tell Wilbur and Philza to head to safety while I deal with the-”

That’s when Technoblade noticed Sapnap.

Sapnap only waved before making a run for it. He wasn’t even going to try and bluff his way out of that one.

He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, but eventually he managed to run into Quackity and Karl.

“We need to get out of here and fast,” Sapnap said, looking behind him to see if they’re being pursued.

Karl huffed, “You don’t need to tell us that we already had a run in with Technoblade and to say the least it wasn’t good.”

Sapnap’s eyes widened. “Wait, you too-?!”

“Hold it right there!”

The three whip around to see a bunch of men heading their way. Karl didn’t even hesitate and brought out his gun shooting into the mob. The three managed to duck into a hallway as Karl continued to shoot. Sapnap looked around and cursed. The hallway was a dead end. The only thing waiting for them at the end of the hall was a large window overlooking the city.

He was snapped out of his stupor when he heard a yelp and saw Karl crumple to the floor. Quackity managed to hold onto the other preventing Karl from falling in the line of fire. The gunfire increased and the three of them retreated towards the window.

“What do we do now?!” hissed Sapnap, hoisting Karl up and doing a brief look over his injuries. There was a large amount of blood flowing from his head but from the look of it a bullet only skimmed his head.

“I-I don’t know I-?!”

Quackity looked between the window and the start of the hallway. That’s when he realized something. Suddenly he starts unbuttoning his blazer and vest, tossing it to the side only leaving his dress shirt and tie on.

Sapnap flushed. “Geez at least take me on a date first.”

Quackity growled. “Now is not the time to joke around!” He quickly raised his shirt revealing his wings wrapped around his abdomen and bound by a belt. He quickly unclipped it and released his wings, shaking them a little.

He grabbed for Karl’s gun and shot at the window a few times, shattering the glass in the process. The yelling and gunfire behind them increased even more.

Grabbing Karl and Sapnap, he yelled a quick, “Hang on tight!” before jumping out of the window, his wings flaring out and catching the wind.

Even though he's carrying three times the weight his wings can hold, the glide is good enough for them to land onto the roof of a building and run, albeit with Karl on Sapnap's back. Instead of returning to the casino, they end up in one of Sapnap's safe houses located near the edge of the city where there were less people.

It was there they tended to Karl's wounds before Sapnap glanced at Quackity who was preening his wings.

"Care to explain?" Sapnap asked.

To Quackity's surprise Sapnap didn't sound disgusted or afraid. While hybrids were common in this world, they were still treated horribly which led to many hiding their hybrid parts, Quackity included.

Quackity shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it." Sapnap didn't press.

There was more awkward silence until Sapnap glanced over to hear Quackity cursing under his breath. One of his wings was bent weirdly and there were some feathers he couldn't reach.

"I, um. I can help," Sapnap piped up.

Quackitiy scoffed. "You? Helping? You don't have any wings, what would you know."

"That's true," Sapnap said, "but I want to say thank you for saving us today. You’re already loaded and you have more than enough henchmen. Besides, I don't know how long we are going to stay here."

Quackity glared over his shoulder before sighing. "Fine. But if you break my wings, I am personally going to kill you."

To say the least the beginning was rough, but after a few pointers from Quackity, Sapnap easily found rhythm and started to get to work. Soon Quackity was falling in and out of consciousness from how relaxed he was. It's been a long time since someone else had preened his feathers and for someone to be so gentle.

Eventually, Sapnap was done and Quackity was shaken awake. His wings puffed up in defense, but then he remembered where he was.

"So how is it?" Sapnap asked.

Quackity looked at his wings and found them in a pretty good shape. While his wing was still bent weirdly, any feathers he was trying to reach were sorted and his wings were overall better.

Right as he was about to thank Sapnap, Karl began to stir.

Sapnap rushed over, crouching by the couch. "Hey there big guy, how are you feeling?"

"Mmm a little groggy to be honest," Karl mumbled. Sapnap passed him a glass of water and Karl took a sip before pecking Sapnap on the cheek. Quackity flushed at the display of affection and he awkwardly coughed, saying he would be in the other room if they needed him.

Karl glanced at Sapnap and Sapnap only shrugged in response.

The days in the safe house were...boring to say the least. Quackity could only contact his connections to a certain extent without being tracked. While he waited he played around with some playing cards he found in one of the cabinets. He would spend hours on end practicing his throws and just playing games by himself.

Besides, he didn’t want to bother the lovebirds.

He had woken up one morning and found the two having an intimate moment making breakfast together. He didn’t want to disrupt the other two and tried to go back to his room as silently as he could but a squeaky floorboard gave him away. Karl had glanced over and asked if Quackity was alright and the hybrid mumbled a sheepish “yeah...”

He eventually helps out with making breakfast and the three fall back into an easy rhythm. One day Sapnap left early to check in at the DreamTeam base leaving Karl and Quackity by themselves. They converse about a few things before it gets to the topic of Quackity’s scar.

“I know you mentioned that you knew Technoblade before we infiltrated the SBI base but...what exactly happened?”

Quackity grimaced a bit, tracing the scar a little. “I was never skilled with hand to hand combat. Let’s just say he pulled out a knife and managed to slice my face.”

I’ll probably add more to this later however while they stay at the safe house, they start to flirt a little bit more and they start to get closer. Eventually they try to infiltrate the SBI base again, but they ultimately fail and Quackity gets severely injured.

When he wakes up he's met face to face with Dream himself. George is by his side per usual, the assassin with a plethora of guns and knives up his sleeves. Dream congrats Quackity on surviving for so long and that his favor is now paid back. There are some more empty threats exchanged between the two before Sapnap tells him to shove off for a bit. Dream only rolls his eyes and laughs before letting Sapnap and Karl visit Quackity.

Beforehand Quackity was freaking out about breaking the two up but then they were like "my guy we like you too. Also uh. your casino kinda got raided and it's not safe sooo...wanna room with us?"

Of course he says yes.

How Sapnap and Quackity Met

When Schlatt kicked the bucket, the Sleepy Bois and other groups immediately targeted Quackity and the original base Schlatt and Quackity shared. He was knocked out by the pain of technoblade slicing his left eye and gouging his cheek.

Somehow he survived. He woke up in the burning building and stumbled his way out, hiding in the alleyways and barely making it with all of his injuries. The closest "allies" Quackity knew of were the Dreamteam so he headed in what hoped was the general direction of their base. He passed out before he could even get there. Somehow he was close enough to the base and with the recent news of the city being on fire the trio had a feeling Quackity would stop by soon.

Quackity woke up feverish and with gauze over his cheek and eye. In front of him stood Dream, Sapnap and George standing by his side. George had a neutral face while Sapnap couldn't help and cringe at the injuries.

"Good to see you're finally awake, Quackity,” said Dream, smiling. “We were worried that you were dead...which wouldn't be much of a problem."

Quackity glared (at least with his good eye) at Dream. "What do you want." Knowing the man Dream would want something back in return for saving Quackity. Dream grinned. "Oh you know me all too well Quackity. I simply ask for you to pay back. Your medical bills were quite pricey and the cost of your little fire has destroyed a good portion of my city."

"Not to mention I will be oh so generous as to give you a new building and enough money to start your business again." Quackity opened his mouth to ask about the catch but Dream held up a hand. "You have no allies, Quackity. Everyone wants you dead. Do you really think there's someone out there who is willing to help you?" Dream grinned. "Besides, you're already in debt to me."

Quackity closed his mouth. There really was no other option. Swallowing his pride, he glanced up and stared straight at Dream. "Fine," he spat. "I accept your offer."

Dream clapped his hands. "Excellent! What a wise decision."

While Dream and George left, Sapnap stayed behind. Quackity slightly bristled asking what the heck Sapnap wanted and Sapnap glared at him.

"I just wanted to see if you were ok. I was the one who found you and you were not only burned, but bleeding from your eye."

Quackity calmed a bit but he did admit with all of this new information he's been on edge. Sapnap hummed and explained that Dream would probably let Quackity off the hook a little easier after a while but Quackity didn't believe him. George eventually came into the medical room looking for Sapnap and the two took their leave.

The next time Sapnap and Quackity run into each other is when Quackity is trying to make a deal with the Badlands, meeting with the infamous Badboyhalo.

They were at a fancy venue with plenty of guests and Quackity was sitting at the bar nursing a drink mindlessly. He checked his watch and when he looked up he saw someone sitting in front of him.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Sapnap admitted placing his drink down on the bar Quackity almost spat out his drink. "Sapnap?? What are you doing here?"

Sapnap shrugged. "Oh nothing much just checking out the area and checking in on our connections. How about you?"

"I could say the same thing," Quackity mumbled, taking a sip of his drink

Eventually, Quackity excused himself only to run into Bad himself. "Ah hello there. Quackity was it?" Bad asked.

The two talk a little and Quackity tries to pitch his deal but Bad isn't having it. It starts to get a little violent until Sapnap pops out of nowhere and goes like "hey there dad uuuuuuh cool off a bit. Meanwhile Quackity I think it's time for you to go--"

Quackity was about to protest until he saw Antfrost in the back making a b-line for him. Quackity gives a strained smile before dipping, leaving Sapnap to do the fixing.

How Karl and Sapnap Met

Everyone knew about Techno's and Dream's bad history with each other and today was the day everyone was going to witness who was better than the other

Sapnap had locked eyes with Karl when Mr. Beast went on to explain the rules of the shoot off. Karl had only grinned and Sapnap could feel himself flush. George had elbowed him, teasing him and Sapnap only sputtered in response.

Finally Mr. Beast explained that there was not going to be any sabotage from anybody from either the Dreamteam or SBI. Sapnap had gone to leave, the tension between the three groups getting a little too much. he was stopped in his tracks by Karl.

"I'm sorry Sapnap but you have to turn around. No one is allowed to leave the premises until after the shoot off."

Sapnap raised an eyebrow, about to ask why until he saw the gun in Karl’s hand. "We don't want any problems, right?" Karl giggled, adjusting the hold on his gun. Sapnap glared at the other but proceeded to turn back around. Maybe he turned to hide his blush. Could have been a possibility

The tournament went smoothly, Techno becoming the victor by a single point. While the SBI cheered, the Dreamteam left the premises.

"Are you even listening to me Sapnap?" Dream asked, a bit pissed from the loss. "Hm? I'm sorry Dream I didn't hear you, what did you say?"

George snickered. "Don't worry about Sapnap, Dream, he's still caught up on the sniper Mr. Beast has hired- OW!" Sapnap had elbowed George quite harshly in the ribs.

Dream raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, proceeding to rant about the duel instead.

[suckjasmins]

The love story Part 1

A/n soo im rewriting this story lol i just felt like i could do better so yeah and sorry for being gone for so long (if anyone noticed) i didnt and still dont have wifi, I only have it when my sister is home and she works lol so it will take time for me to post

edit: guess who has wifi bitches!!?? this bitch right here!!

Pairings: Bakugou x Reader

Word count: 2069 (nice) words

Warnings: none lol

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Only the sound of the rain and the thunder was the only thing anyone heard. It was one of the few days where it rained and usually would be celebrated. Living in the desert like place, only heat and blinding sun was regular. A rainy day was like a blue moon, and everyone, celebrated it. The kids would play in it, the young adults would party in it, the elders would simply stand in it and converse with one another. Music and laughter would be the only thing anyone heard. This day was the opposite however, and the reason for it? More than half of the village was gone, they were on a hunting trip that should only lasted for a few weeks. It had been a few months now, and everyone was beginning to lose their hope of the hunting group returning. The only ones left were, children and elders and a few adults that had stayed for different reasons.

You were one of the adults that stayed, your reason was that you fell sick right before leaving. It was then decided that it was too dangerous for you to leave the village. It took all of your friends to convince you to stay. And let's say you were furious that you had stayed, especially now that the group were now gone. But you were not the only one who's heart were filled with rage and sorrow.

The warriors and the dragons had left to hunt the orcs who had dangerously been inching in close to the village. The whole village thought that if they could get rid of the orcs now. All would be safer, and the orcs didn't have the recourses to go to war now, so why wait until the orcs can?

You sat on the floor at the opening of the tent. Watching the puddle, you thought about how hot it still was when it was raining. You thought about your friends, and what you would be doing if they were here. You probably would be dancing and partying in the rain. And nobody would be able to hear the siren over the music, unlike right now when it was going off. The siren that only was used to important things, to signal when a new season started or when someone returned home-

When someone was returning home after war or after a long time...

You looked up, towards the mountains and right there, in the middle of the mountains. A group of people were walking towards the village. They were too far away to be able to see who they were, but everyone knew. It was them.. Getting up, you started to run towards to the group of people, standing and watching them. You pushed your way to the front and your vision started to blur from tears. Even though it was still raining, even though it was still dark from all the clouds. It felt like the sun was shining, like the rain now was a sweet reminder of the parties that usually held place here.

The group were closer now, and you could clearly see how hurt they all were. The few dragons by the humans was transformed to their human shapes. Almost everyone were limping, and helping each. other to walk. Finally you could not hold yourself back and you broke out of the crowd. A few kids following you, you made you way to the group. The first person you saw were Mina, your long time best friend. And by her side were Eijiro, one of his wings were bandaged.

"Mina! Eijiro!" you screamed out as you neared them. You stopped a step from them and you went to hug them when you realized that that wouldn't be the best.

"Are you guys ok..? Is it ok if I hug you or..?" you fidgeted around, only you three stood there, everyone walking around you.

Mina chuckled and leaned forward, hugging you. You hugged back, squeezing her hard until she slightly winced. It felt like you hugged each other for hours, rambling about different things. Like how much you missed each other.

"Hey.. when is it my turn for a hug?" Eijiro whined behind Mina, crossing his arms and playfully pouted.

"Now's your turn" you let go of Mina and turned to him. "Come here big guy" you squeezed him just like Mina. You two also stood forever and rambled about things. Just like when you were younger, he always felt like home. You also would stand there forever if Mina hadn't interrupted the two of you.

"The Bakugous is about to start their speech, let's get over there, then can you two continue your hugging party." she nodded towards the scene where Mitsuki Bakugou, the village leader, or queen, was about to start her speech. Walking towards her, you blended into the crowd already there. Mitsuki Bakugou stood in the middle of the scene, her husband, Masaru Bakugou stood slightly behind her, a supporting hand on her shoulder. On her other side stood Katsuki Bakugou with his usual scowl on his face. Mitsuki exchanged a few words with Masaru before turning her attention forward.

"Everyone... We'er finally back from the hunting trip that were only supposed to last a few weeks. It was hard but I'm glad to tell you the exiting news. When we arrived to the last sighting of orcs, we saw that there were a few who had made camp there. We fought them off our land and got information on where the main camp was. When we arrived, we were shocked to say the at least. There were a lot more than we thought there were going to be. We had to make camp and discuss our new battle plans. But then we were ready, and we fought. And... even though it was a big possibility that we would lose a few soldiers... WE LOST NONE!" a big cheer broke out and people started to almost party right there and then. Mitsuki with only her hand silenced and calmed down the crowd. "We fought bravely, many of us were hurt and are going to be treated shortly after this speech. We have now gotten rid of the orcs that harmed and threatened our land. And luckily... the mating season has not started yet. It will begin in a 2 short weeks along with spring. I feel like this year is extra special, and we will treat it like it. Now just a few words from my husband and from my soon then you can continue to reunite with your close and loved ones" she finished her speech and stepped to the side. Her husband and her switching their places. He cleared his throat and started with his speech.

"Even though my wife has said almost everything there is to say, I have a few words. I want to say thank you, for every brave soul that followed us to fight the evil. It is only with their help that we could defeat the enemy without losing one of our own. And for anyone wondering... the harvest has been good this year. And along with the animals we hunted on our way back. We have more than enough food to relax without the need to hunt. We will celebrate the beginning of spring with a feast so big it will last for days!" he laughed and the crowd cheered again. The thought of being able to properly relax and the thought of food, making everyone happy. Mitsuki then pushed her son, Katsuki, to the front. It was then you noticed his arm were wrapped and hung around his neck. It was clearly broken, you looked around and noticed a lot of people had broken something. But thankfully Mina or Eijiro hadn't broken anything. Eijiro was only bleeding from his wing but otherwise was okay.

"I would like to say... It was brave of everyone to follow on this trip, to risk their life for each other. And now we can celebrate it" his words were short and you could hear how he didn't mean any of that. Or maybe he did but was too tired to say it. Everyone clapped and Mitsuki clapped Katsukis shoulder. She whispered something to him and he scowled. The Bakugou family left the stage and almost the whole crowd turned to the direction of the medical tent. You walked with Mina, Eijiro had left to find Katsuki Bakugou, his dear friend.

"So Mina, are you excited about the mating season?" you asked her, as you walked together.

"Ah... I don't know actually... I mean Eijiro competed for me last year and well, I don't know if he's going to do it again" she answered, she stared ahead at nothing. You got a brilliant idea, almost like a lightbulb went off in your head.

"Why don't you compete for him? I mean it's tradition that couples compete every year and imagine how happy he would be!" your eyes shined as you awaited for her answer.

"Omg... Y/n I love you!" she grabbed your shoulders and shook you back and fort before hugging you. "And it can be a surprise too!" you laughed along with her.

"I'm really happy for you, you know? I don't think your or Eijiro could fins a better match" you smiled warmly while Mina gave you a cute pout.

"That's so sweet... I have to do something for you now!" she gasped and pulled you with her. "What if... I help you find someone to compete for you or someone for you to compete for?!"

"Ah... Mina, there isn't really anyone I'm interested in.." you sighed, you never really thought about dating or anything like that. But it wasn't the first time someone told you to get a date.

"I know I know... but if there's someone who would be a great match for you? It would be Bakugou!" she almost yelled out, which resulted in you covering her mouth with your hand.

"Shush! You can't just yell that!" you shushed her, she only giggled in response. "And.. Bakugou..?" you slightly blushed.

"Yes yes! I was with him a lot during this trip and you'er perfect for each other!"

"But I don't really know him? Like at all?" that was a lie, you did know Bakugou. Or at least you knew him when you were younger. You and Bakugou were thick as thieves when you were children.

It was only after he started to really bully Midoryia that you had told him to stop. Before that you would also tease Midoryia, call him Deku and laugh along with Bakugou. When you became 5 you got close with Midoryia, and started to be his friend too. And at the same time Bakugou only bothered Midroyia more. You would try to protect Midoryia but would always run after Bakugou, laughing and playing with him. Until you stayed, and told Bakugou to stop. It was the first time you were deadly serious and Bakugou only let out a tch before leaving. After that day Bakugou started to ignore you, and would bully Midoryia as much as you could.

But now, you had grown up and you pretended that you didn't know Bakugou. Like you never talked to him at all. A lot of the elders knew of your friendship, but never discussed it. The people your age didn't know, mostly because they weren't there when you were younger. It was like your friendship with Bakugou was in an another life time.

When you and Mina arrived at the tent, you saw a long line of people waiting. You let out a sigh and turned to her. You scanned her up and down and tilted your head. She wasn't really hurt, only scrapes and dirt on her skin. She didn't limp or act like anything hurt.

"Mina, are you hurt? Or why are we here?" you asked, not knowing what her answer would be.

"Oh not really... But I have a nasty cut on my back that need to be cleaned" she shrugged, and turned to stand in line. You lit up.

"That's great!" you exclaimed, before wincing. "I don't mean it's great you have a cut but I have stuff at my place. I could patch you up there!" you smiled.

"Oh really? Great! Let's go" she turned swiftly around, already heading to your tent.

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ Episodes 1-2

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

⇢ script form (name: lines) are the interviews

EPISODE 1

she’s sitting in between namjoon and hoseok, legs curled to her chest

she mostly stayed quiet while resting her head on namjoon’s shoulder

after talking about jimin’s hanbok, they turned to yoonmi

“miya-ssi, you want to experiment with making makeup, yes?” “that is correct” “we’ll have the materials and ingredients you need ready in a box there. the projector and projector screen you asked for will be there as well”

she clapped excitedly and thanked the staff

“i get to watch movies with mimi!” “we all do, jungkook” “me first though”

when it came to the hobbies that they wanted to try together, she raised her hand

“pdnim, is it okay if we have more of everything so we can all try out each other’s interests?” “actually, that’s a good idea”

and so she managed to get the staff to broaden their list of things to buy

before they stopped, yoonmi sat up, kicking her legs out in front of her and making hoseok jump in surprise

“can we have a trampoline? like one of those circle ones with a net?” “we’ll have that ready” “yay! okay, thank you, pdnim!”

miya: school just let out, so it felt like a summer vacation with family. i feel like we got to just let loose, and i loved it

when it came to filling the cars, she gave jungkook her 2 small luggages and her guitar, keeping her backpack, her puppy plushie, and her hamster plushie on her

she helps loading with a pout “i wanted to drive my motorcycle, but i can’t because we’re gonna be on the freeway”

namjoon patted her head and opened the door for her to go in the car

she settled in the back just as jungkook made his way into the driver’s seat

“you gonna sleep the whole ride, mimi?” “only if you don’t teach me to drive today” “... have a good sleep”

namjoon chuckled at the two and buckled his seatbelt, reminding the maknaes to do the same

she put on sunglasses and was somehow able to fold her whole body so she was curled up in her seat

“why does it sound like our guitars are breaking?” “i got them”

after fixing the guitars, she settles back into the seat and goes silent so jungkook just asks namjoon if she’s sleeping

namjoon pats her knee, and she doesn’t move “she is. i’m not surprised. she stayed up all night again”

and she somehow stays asleep despite the members both in the car with her and through the walkie talkies being talkative

you can see jungkook constantly looking in the rearview mirror to check if yoonmi’s doing okay

“aigoo, she’s already an adult, but she still looks this small?” “don’t tell her you said that, jungkookie”

she wakes up when they’re driving by the water and namjoon just “have a nice sleep, yoon-ah?” “yes, oppa”

they get off in the place they were going to stay, and she’s just walking around with two fairly big plushies in her arms

they’re walking on the field and yoonmi sees the trampoline, its net open for her to enter

“oppa, hold this,” she handed her plushies to taehyung and ran to the trampolines

the other members just stopped to watch her fondly while she did a few back tucks and aerials in the trampoline

“yoonmi-ah, you just woke up, you might get hurt” seokjin called her back and she just giggled and slipped her shoes on again and ran back to them to check out the house

she placed her plushies on the piano to have free arms

she explores the moving cameras with jungkook, eyes wide “wahhh this is so strange but so cool”

she’s skipping around, distracted to the point where yoongi had to hold her hand to keep her from straying from everyone

yoongi leads her to the tarp where she decided to just lie down on the grass nearby making yoongi chuckle while seokjin had her stand up because she was wearing a white shirt

she made her way to the hammock and wrapped herself up in there “oppas, i’ll be here if you need me”

she takes out her phone and taps a few things before paradise starts playing “mmm this is a good relaxation song”

she hears seokjin and namjoon trash talking each other after a few minutes and looks up briefly “oh, ping pong? looks like it’s about to get competitive”

she laughs to herself and puts her head back down

you don’t hear from her again until jungkook finished cooking the ramen

he walked over to the hammock and picked her up “no skipping lunch” “but i was listening to musiiiiic”

he dumps her on the chair next to yoongi and she’s just sulking while grabbing a bowl and chopsticks to get food

hoseok laughed at her actions “cute”

namjoon and seokjin bickering about pingpong while they ate and she laughs “i knew they’d get like this”

jungkook took her away to the boat house where he took out his guitar

“where’s mine?” “with all the other stuff”

she kinda just lies down on the side and stares at the ceiling while jungkook played, occasionally suggesting chords that she think would sound well with his progression

“oppa” “mm?” “should i go help sort the groceries out?” “did you sleep last night?” “... i took one second naps every ten seconds”

cue jungkook rolling his eyes and throwing her plaid shirt (which she had removed earlier) over her face “sleep, not blink”

the next cut you see of her is jungkook putting a blanket over her legs before leaving to join the other boys

when jungkook’s calling around for everyone, taehyung asks him where she is and jungkook points to the boathouse

taehyung goes in and lightly taps her side “aegi, time to go to the main house”

she nods and taehyung puts an arm around her while they walk back together

buuuut the door is locked and the other members call for a password

“lajibolala?” taehyung asked yoonmi just tilts her head “is it not rock bison?”

they let them in, and she settles into taehyung’s side

“can i sleep in the boathouse?” “okaaaaay me, yoonmi, and jungkook in the boat house!”

she grins and picks up her plushies and heads off to unpack her stuff

EPISODE 2

seokjin pops in on her after his disappointing fishing session and he sees her on her laptop, midi on right next to it

only one of her carriers were open, and seokjin could tell it was to get her blanket which currently sat across her lap

she had her headphones on and she was already working on a track

miya: i don’t know, maybe it was instinct to start working on something? i was working on something the whole night, and i guess that momentum kinda just came back *laughs* jinnie oppa stopped me though

seokjin shakes his head and squishes her cheeks together

“princess, leave that for when you’re actually bored, and start unpacking. look, you even left toph and koda on top of your bags” “okay, okay, oppa”

she saved her progress and smiled at seokjin when he handed her the two plushies

there’s a mini compilation of her setting up her stuff and unpacking with seokjin’s help

after a few clips, you see her in more comfortable clothes and walking out while braiding her hair into pigtails to see yoongi and seokjin fishing

she giggles when yoongi gets in the boat “oppa, what are you doing?” “what? it’s not like it’s illegal”

when seokjin and yoongi are on the boat, she moves to her room and pulls a book out of her backpack

the subtitles read “the most peaceful member so far” while she settles on her stomach and opens the book

jungkook checks in on her after a while “i’m gonna go fish. you good here? oh, she’s reading she can’t hear me”

sure enough she didn’t move one bit

after what looks like ⅓ of the book, she glances up “oh, a portable blender! i should make banana milk”

she goes off to the kitchen to grab some ingredients. her nose scrunches when she sees seokjin handling a fish, then she grabs some milk, bananas, cinnamon, honey, and a knife to take back to her room

she silently hums an (at the time) unfamiliar melody while cutting up the bananas and putting them into the jug

miya: i feel like you’re going to be bored with me the whole show *laughs* i live pretty quietly. so far, all i’ve done is sleep, eat, make music, read, and make banana milk. i don’t know what you’re expecting, but nothing much really happens when i’m on break

“okay, two bananas, a cup and a half of milk, and a random amount of honey and cinnamon because measuring is a construct let’s go”

she puts the lid on then screws the jug in place, pressing down on it and blending until it seemed right to her

she smiles when she’s done and gathers all her trash into a bag

she switches the lid of the jug to one without blades then brings everything but the port to the kitchen in the upper house

“did you make banana milk again? can i taste?”

jungkook comes over and takes the trash from her while talking

she opens the jug and holds it for him to take a sip before she covers it again and puts it in the fridge

“oppa,” she approached yoongi, “do you need help with dinner?” “did you rest today?” “yes” “then go ahead and cut up the vegetables i laid out over there, and be careful, princess”

eventually she ends up setting the table outside while jungkook walked behind her and played with a frog

she’s laughing at him while setting down plates “the frog is trying to have some peace”

she’s tucked between jimin and hoseok for dinner, and jimin’s just constantly adding food to her bowl

hoseok’s off to the side sneakily pouring her a shot of soju and she just giggles and takes it in thanks

she laughed along with the stories, mostly exchanging glances with jungkook

miya: the oppas were all bringing up old memories, and it was fun. i forgot we were filming. i’m usually quiet during meals, but i think i laughed a lot more on our first night than i usually do. *laughs* ggukoo oppa and i made eye contact and i’m pretty sure we remembered the same thing, but that’s a secret

she had settled in her bed pretty soon, phone on as if she were messaging someone. she made eye contact with the camera and smiled “good night”

[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Experts

The second story of this story-line.  Another caveat of the request was to have the Imperials and Dr. Strange here, so here they are.  I have decided to name the planet ‘Polaris C,’ so as to give it some sort of name.  Enjoy Dr. Stephen Strange, Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex, and the Grey Knights meeting the Scoundrels.  As usual, I own no one here except Drake.  

“It is the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to defend Earth and humanity against all magical and extra-dimensional threats.” -Dr. Stephen Strange

“I am the hammer, the right hand of the Emperor, the instrument of His will, the gauntlet about His fist, the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword!”  -Motto of the Grey Knights

When Doctor Stephen Strange had received a message from Peter Quill, he had almost laughed aloud.  Quill.  Peter Quill, in his opinion, was not only an idiot but a slight egotist.  He had almost laughed.  Almost.  If the message was not a missive asking for help.  His help, specifically.  Strange knew that if Quill, of all people, was begging for his help, then things were very serious.  So with slight misgiving (he didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into), Strange’s cloak had affixed itself to his shoulders and he had opened a portal to the bizarre planet Quill described in the message.  

He almost wished he didn’t come.  The planet itself was filled with strange red mist from an unknown source.  Not a problem, though.  His magic could easily take care of that.  It was the commotion.  People and aliens of all sorts, from all different places, were running about up to god only knew what.  A huge, bipedal metal robot (at least he thought it was a robot) trudged around, seemingly scanning a collection of long abandoned black buildings in the distance.  Soldiers of various sorts, all dressed differently, many of species he did not recognize, ran around doing things he couldn’t even guess at.  

To his left, greatcoat swirling ominously in the mist, lenses of his mask blending in with the background, was Peter Quill.  As soon as Quill saw the sorcerer, he ran up to him, almost hugging him before Strange stopped him.  

“Oh thank god you’re here!” almost shouted Quill.  “I don’t know what the hell’s happening and neither do we and neither to the GA and Cooper is trying to scan the structures to see what’s happening and he’s the only one who’s actually helping and Cain called the Imperial Inquisition who are arguing with the aliens and this reminds me way too much of when my father possessed me so can you help?”  Strange’s mouth worked spasmodically for a moment at Quill’s rant.  Quill almost hugged him and was now begging for his help.  This was a serious situation, then.  Strange held up his gloved hands.  

“Calm.  Down.”  Quill took a few deep breaths.  

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m calm.”  

“Good.  Now, take me to them,” commanded Strange.  Quill gave a nod and beckoned Strange forward.  The swirling mist parted to reveal a series of tents, the sort that he recognized from disasters he’d seen on the news.  Cold and clinical.  They ducked underneath a flap and passed swiftly through an airlock before getting into the main area of the largest tent.  It was much bigger than Strange thought it would be.  Various humans, all wearing whatever armor they had on at the time of the event, lay on cots lining the walls.  All of them were out cold.  

It was not the people on the cots, though, that caught Strange’s attention.  An imposing blond haired woman stood in the middle of it, bickering with two aliens: a small, bug-like creature and an eight foot tall, four armed, blue carapaced alien.  The woman wore a tight black bodysuit, and was currently glaring daggers at the black, bug-like alien.  The four armed one stood behind the bug, both pairs of arms crossed in a gesture that was remarkably human.  

“You can’t tell us what to do!” shouted the shorter insectoid.  “We rule this galaxy, and we will do this our way.”  The blond haired woman sneered at the two aliens.

“Chairwoman.”  The word was imbued with so much venom that it made Strange look up sharply from where he was studying one of the unconscious forms.  “You have no idea what any of this does, not to mention that-”  She was cut off by the beeping of her comms device.  She held a finger to her ear, and paused to listen to what was being said on the other side.  “Understood,” she replied.  She turned back to the chairwoman.  “Well then.  Do it your way.  Xenos no longer has authority here.  Take up the matter with Malleus.”  She spun on her heel and strode out of the tent.  On her way out, she almost slammed into a brown haired man wearing high boots and a leather jacket.  He sharply avoided her, then gave her a glare as she walked out.  Following him was an utterly massive individual in heavy green armor.  Super soldier, though Strange.  He’d bet his life on it.

“Well, looks like that’s all done now,” said the newcomer.  He walked over to Strange and held out his hand.  “Han Solo.  You must be the expert that Quill called in.”  

“Indeed I am,” replied Strange, still puzzled of what precisely was transpiring here.  

“Master Chief John-117,” replied the green armored man with about as much emotion as a bag of rocks.

“Good to know we have a true expert on hand,” said the strange, bug-like alien as she walked over.  “Hopefully you will be more agreeable.  I am the Chairwoman of the Galactic Assembly,” she announced.  

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” replied Strange politely.  “And I am here to help.”  The large, blue carpaced alien introduced herself as Sunny, chief weapons officer of the Omen.  With introductions out of the way, Strange approached the cots of the unconscious humans.  “Now, what precisely happened here?” he asked.

“We were inside one of the larger buildings in the middle of the abandoned city over there,” said Sunny, pointing to a direction outside the tent.  “We went through it… seemed like some sort of weird laboratory.  There was some sort of main central room.  The room had blast doors; big ones to keep something out.  They were open though.  There was some sort of glowing white orb on a central pedestal.  When Wilson, one of the scientists,” she pointed out Wilson, lying unconscious on another cot, “Touched it, it emitted a blast of white energy.  It knocked out all of the humans.  No aliens were harmed, and, oddly, the humans from one particular galaxy were not affected.  They all seem to have some sort of glowing white light around their eye areas, and Adam muttered ‘Deus’ under his breath while still unconscious.”  Strange didn’t know who Adam was, but this sounded… serious.  And weird.  Weirdly serious?  No.  Perhaps seriously weird?  Stop getting off track, Stephen.  

“Okay.  It is good you called me,” said Strange.  He paused for a moment, considering what he should do next.  “Can you take me to the orb?” he asked.  The chairwoman opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the tramping of boot soles on the tent’s artificial ground.  A double file of soldiers came into the tent, along with three hooded, red robed individuals.  

“Scions,” hissed Sunny.  The soldiers all wore heavy black armor, and carried blocky rifles, at the moment pointed downward, but ready to fire.  The red robed individuals hugged the shadows, their cowls concealing their faces.  All of the newcomers had the same symbol emblazoned on their clothing: a stylized “I” with a human skull in the center.  Sigil of the Imperial Inquisition.  

“What is the meaning of this?” roared the chairwoman.  For a bug, she had a pretty impressive voice.  

“This planet is now interdicted,” replied one of the Scions.  Strange glowered at him.  If looks could kill, the chairwoman’s would have reduced the man to cinders at this point.  

“Under whose authority?” she snapped.  The arguing figures all turned around as massive footsteps sounded behind them.

“Mine.”  A huge man tore his way through the airlock of the tent.  Long grey hair was thrown uncaringly across his head, and a red cloak across his shoulders.  Ornate power armor, fitted to his large frame, glowed a dull silver in the weak light.  He was utterly massive, coming to reach the height of the Master Chief.  A beautifully crafted sword rested on his hip, and a bronze breathing mask covered his lower face.  However, it was not at this man that Strange’s eyes turned to.  It was the group of individuals that followed him.  If the man in front was a giant among men, the coterie that followed him were gods among giants.  They stood eye to eye with Sunny, towing a full foot above the Chief and grey haired man.  Each of the five wore silvery grey power armor, covered with strange runes, inscriptions, and seals.  Huge, twin barreled cannons were attached to their left arms, and in their right they all held halberds, suitably sized for their massive frames.  They stared at Strange and the group clustered around him from behind silver helmets.  Vision slits, glowing white-blue, seemed to peer into their very souls. 

With a start and a huge sense of foreboding, Strange realized what they were.  The size of genetically engineered soldiers, the strange runes and seals on their armor, the magic resonance of the ammunition in their guns and the power whispering through their halberds, all augmented by the fact that each of the silver warriors was a sorcerer of fearsome potency spoke of one thing.  These individuals were created and trained for one purpose, and one purpose only: slaying demons.  

If Strange could take a human being and make them into a weapon perfect for destroying the extra-dimensional beings that some called demons, he would have a result very similar to these silent, silver soldiers.  He could already feel the icy trickle of sweat as it made his way down his back.  This was not good.  Things had gotten a lot more serious.  

“Who are you?” half-whispered the GA chairwoman.  The sheer presence these newcomers had put Strange and everyone else in the room on edge.  

“I am Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex of the Ordo Malleus of the Holy Ordos of His Divine Majesty’s Most Holy Inquisition,” replied the grey haired man.  Well, this guy’s very dramatic and, apparently, very holy, was Strange’s first thought.  “We are here to investigate the possession of these individuals,” went on Rex.  

“As am I,” cut in Strange.  He was the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, dammit, and he would not be intimidated by the likes of these men.  He could sense the Inquisitor, too, was a sorcerer, and a damn good one at that.  “Doctor Stephen Strange.”  Being polite couldn’t hurt, could it?  The Inquisitor gave no response as the lead silver giant stepped forward.  Strange and the various aliens winced as the temperature in the room dropped noticeably.  The giant warrior held out a hand and touched Strange’s forehead with his fingers; not too gentle, not too rough, it simply just was.  Strage felt the man peering into his very soul, but remained silent and still.  He had a feeling the giants would respect that more than any protests he could muster.  

“This one is pure of soul and strong of mind,” announced the warrior.  His deep bass voice rumbled and reverberated through the tent.  Strange found it disquieting.  The man introduced as John-117 had a flat, but normal human voice.  All the super soldiers he’d met in his home galaxy all had relatively normal voices.  It appeared that this one was so heavily augmented his voice was stronger and went much deeper than a usual human.  How intriguing.  

“Very well, then,” replied Rex.  “You.”  He pointed at Strange.  “Come with us.  Everyone else, stay here.  No one leaves.”  On that ominous note, Rex spun, and with a swirl of his cloak, walked out the door, followed by the giant warriors and Strange.  

Elsewhere

“Ah, shit,” swore Thomas Drake.  He looked around him.  Groups of his armsmen, GA marines, and redshirts stood up, confused.  Shepard, Kirk, and Vir brushed themselves off and stared.  

“Where the hell are we?” asked Shepard.  “And where the hell is everyone else?”  They stood in an open, endless expanse of white.  The ground was pure white, the sky… or whatever was located above them pure white.  It was like being inside a sterile room.  Or an insane asylum.  

“Don’t know,” replied Vir.  “Wilson touched that orb-thingy and now here we are.”

“Where is here, exactly?” asked Kirk.

“An excellent question,” replied another voice.  The Scoundrels whirled around to face a man, ethereally floating in the non-existent air.  The figure was a human man, obviously so.  However, something seemed… off about him.  There was, of course, the fact that he was in this strange realm, and that he was floating several feet off the ground.  His face…  Well, his face was the strangest part.  It looked a perfect blend between every human variation: the eyes, the coloring, the hair, all of it.  A perfect blend of every human to ever exist.  How is that possible…?

“What are you?” asked Drake.  His hand went for his sidearm, only to find it wasn’t there.  The ethereal being chuckled.  

“I’m known by a lot of names.  You can call me Adam… Adham, and variation of the name, really.  You can call me the First, or you can call me Deus.  Your choice, really.”  

“Deus…” muttered Vir.

“Great.  Why are we here?” asked Shepard, cutting straight to the point.  

“Quite simple.  You are now imbued with my power.  The power of what you may call a god.  There are things out there that would see you corrupted, and we can’t let that happen.”  

“Good luck trying to corrupt us,” said Shepard.  The being frowned.  

“Many more powerful than you have been.  Many.  It is simply a failsafe.  Through this, you gain a portion of the power of the combined gods of humanity throughout our realms.  While you can’t do any sort of god-like things; you’ll be the same as before except in one regard.  You are all now utterly immune to any sort of corrupting influences.  No one can hijack your brains.”  

“Great,” said Vir bluntly.  “Now what?”  Deus smiled.  

“Well, unfortunately, you can’t remember this conversation.” 

“Why not?” snapped an indignant Drake.  

“Two reasons: it’s best if you don’t, and there is a small chance that if these memories remain, you might go slightly insane.  Slightly.  Still don’t want to risk it.  However, there is one other thing that I can do safely.  I have a favor to ask you.  There are artifacts hidden in several locations around my galaxy.  They carry a taint.  There is one on each of the places that this planet reaches out to.  You can figure it out from there.  I want those artifacts destroyed.”  

“Okay.  Can you send us back to... wherever we are supposed to be?” asked Kirk.  

“Yes,” nodded Deus.  He snapped his fingers.

On Polaris C

“This is the chamber,” came the reverberating voice of one of the massive, silver armored warriors.  Strange had learned they were called the Grey Knights.  They didn’t tell him anything else.  Lord Hector strode forward to the white orb on the central pedestal.  

“It doesn’t look like any… Chaotic artifact,” he murmured.  “Hmmm.”  At that moment, the orb, which had been glowing brightly, suddenly went dark. 

“What was that?’ asked Strange.  

--------------------------------------------------------------

Drake’s head shot up so quickly it smashed into a medical orderly who had been tending to him.  With a cry of pain, he went back down into the cot, only to miss with one hand, lose his balance, and fall on the floor.  Over his muttered curses and the orderly’s apologies, the rest of the unconscious humans woke.  Sunny rushed over to Vir’s side.

“Adam!  What happened?” she asked.  Vir rubbed his head.

“Don’t know,” he said.  “There was the orb, then Wilson touched it, then we got knocked out.”  He looked up, seeing the Scions guarding them in a strange tent.  “What the hell happened?” he asked, slightly miffed.  At that moment, the flap leading to the airlock parted, revealing Dr. Strange, Lord Rex, and the Grey Knights.

“That is precisely what I am wondering, Admiral,” said Rex.  He came forward, and held out a hand, touching Vir’s forehead.  The temperature of the room dropped, and Vir felt the uncomfortable sensation of the grey haired man staring into his soul.  Rex dropped his hand and turned to the Grey Knights.  The temperature returned to normal.  “He appears… untainted.  Normal.”  A pair of inky brown eyes stared down at the waking humans.  “However, we must be sure.  Our testing shall be… rigorous.”

There we have it.  Now, unfortunately, you ought to know that the Grey Knights have a scorched earth policy.  They fight daemons, and daemons corrupt.  Therefore, anyone who is near them is at risk.  Also, they are a secret organization, and if anyone is left alive to know about them, Chaos could use it against them.  They have been ordered to not harm the Scoundrels themselves, as they believe they are vital to some future events.  They won’t harm Strange, as they see him as a protector of his realm, much like them.  The GA people though...  Tell me what you think should happen, and if you like this story line.  If you have any comments, questions, requests, criticisms, or concerns, tell me!  

[itcantbe]

Zelink Week 2021: Day 4

Hello and welcome to day 4 of @zelinkweek2021 (I remembered to tag it this time!). Today's prompt is "Trust: Broken/Forged." I tried to address both aspects in this chapter of "Under the Boardwalk." Just a reminder this story is rated M and will shift to E with the last chapter (but the E bit can be skipped if you want). This chapter takes place the night of the first chapter, if you're getting confused with the timeline. Yesterday's chapter took place sometime in the future. Enjoy!

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | Read chapter 3 on ao3

Under the Boardwalk: We'll be Fallin' in Love

Ice cream. Coffee. A movie.

“What’s in here?”

Dinner. Ice skating. Mini golf.

Link can’t help thinking of better date ideas than sneaking around the amusement park he works at after hours. He had hoped they might walk around a bit, Zelda would get her fill of the empty park and they could leave and go do something else. Though he holds out some hope that she might get a little scared, and maybe clutch his arm to her chest, crushing it between her breasts as she clings to him. He’s distracted by the idea for a moment, until he hears the rattle of a doorknob.

“Don’t — ! That’s an electrical room, it supplies power to some of the lights. It’s dangerous.”

“Then why isn’t the door locked?”

Link takes Zelda’s arm, hoping he can pull her away from the door plastered in signs that say WARNING! and DANGER! with pictures of little sad people surrounded by lightning bolts. He attempts a distraction.

“Why don’t we go look at The Molduga? We can sneak into the part in the middle where it’s like a little forest.”

He hears a little click before Zelda turns to him, flashing a brilliant smile that makes his insides go watery.

“Ooh yes! Let’s go!”

And then she does take his hand, and he feels a thrill, glad she can’t see the goofy grin that crosses his face as he turns to lead her into the park.

******

Link knew where there was an opening in part of the fence that surrounds The Molduga, the giant wooden roller coaster that’s the main attraction of Hyrule Castle Amusement Park. The Molduga has been the highlight of the park for decades, and over the years a mini-forest grew inside each of the loops and curves the ride takes as it sprawls around the north side of the park. Of course, they don’t want people going in there when the ride is open, so they put up a fence that surrounds the ride on all sides.

But the fence is nearly as old as the ride, and hasn’t been well maintained in all of its years of existence. Much like everything else at the park, regular maintenance was allowed to slide in the name of maximizing profits. The fence has developed several gaps and holes over time, and the wooded areas of the interior are a favorite place for park employees to hide out while on break, to have a smoke or a nip or just enjoy nature for a minute before you have to submerge yourself in the tourist hordes again. Link knows of a gap in the fence hidden in the backside of the ride, where the track runs by the main fence between the park and the parking lot.

Maybe she’ll get bored and we can leave, Link thinks as he leads Zelda there. Surely by now she has been satisfied with the relative spookiness of the park after closing and is willing to head off and do something that’s actually fun. He can barely see her in the darkness of this part of the park, the black ball cap she put on covering her golden hair, her dark shirt and pants hiding the rest of her. He had to admit he’d been hoping she would wear some night-time version of what she wore each time he saw her at the park, the little dresses that left her shoulders bare and showed off a lot of thigh. The dresses that often came to mind when he had some time to himself at night before bed.

He had been surprised when she arrived to meet him that night.

“You look … uh, you look nice,” he said, rather stupidly. She always made him kind of stupid.

Zelda saw right through him, smirking as he scrambled to seem gentlemanly despite his obvious disappointment.

“Well I don’t think strappy platform sandals would have been very practical for sneaking around, do you?”

No, but they did nice things for her legs and he liked the pretty pink nail polish she wore on her toes.

“I … uh … I guess not.”

He wasn’t an eloquent guy on the best day but this was getting pathetic. He was nervous, and she made him feel so flustered.

“Besides, this way I can blend into the shadows so we don’t get caught!”

She brought out a black ball cap with a flourish and put it on her head in one smooth motion before turning to him and winking.

“So let’s go!”

Link’s brain shut down when she winked at him, nothing but white noise for a moment, only coming back online once he saw her head off into the dark, and he scrambled to catch up with her.

Despite him being the supposed tour leader, it was Zelda who led him about the park, asking questions and taking off with “Ooh, what’s over there?!” so often that he felt like he was constantly just trying to keep up. He should be used to the feeling by now, he thinks. He’s always attempting to keep up, and never quite making it.

But this time he led her, pulling the fence open so that she could go in.

“Are there a lot of gaps in the fence like this?”

“Um … yeah. I only know about this one but there’s gaps all over. I don’t think they do a lot of inspections.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I guess.”

“Hmm.”

He followed her through, then took the lead again, hoping he remembered where the little clearing was that had the least amount of trash in it and had a fallen log they could sit on. It was a nice area, a little further in than most employees were willing to go, and so it was relatively clean and untouched. Maybe they could sit for a while. Maybe she would let him kiss her. Maybe she would kiss him. Maybe they could do a lot of kissing. Maybe she would push him down into the grass and let him run his hands up the inside of her shirt … Lost in his daydream, it was a minute before he realized she wasn’t behind him, and turned to see her jogging up to him.

“I stopped to tie my shoe,” she said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” Link said, confused. Why hadn’t she said anything? He would have waited for her.

“Just a bit more,” he told her.

He took a right where the tracks crossed each other, soaring a hundred feet over their heads, and followed the wooden framework that criss-crossed in a huge lattice to support the ride in the air around … and there they were. He stepped over a piece of the wooden framework that had fallen; there were a few of those around, pieces dropped off the antique ride frequently. Link realized what he’d thought was a log was actually one of the giant cross beams from the ride that had fallen who knows when and had grown soft and green with moss.

“Is this part of the ride?” Zelda asked as she sat next to him.

“Yeah, this ride is pretty old and parts fall off a lot.”

“That doesn’t seem safe!”

“Well, I’m sure they replace them.”

“When?”

How was he supposed to know?

“I dunno. I’m just. Sure they do.”

“Do they ever shut the ride down for any reason? Like for safety? Or if someone gets hurt?”

Link laughed.

“No, they never shut down the Molduga. It makes them too much money.”

She hummed thoughtfully at that.

It was a lovely night, the heat of the day having dissipated, a cool breeze soughing through the trees. Without the crowds of people, the noise of the cars and the roar of the rides, it was peaceful, the noise of the city distant and muted. It was, dare Link think it, almost romantic.

“Oh!” he heard Zelda exclaim next to him. “You can see all the stars!”

Link looked up. She was right, the sky twinkled with a number of stars that couldn’t be seen normally with the light pollution of the park and the city. He leaned in a bit closer to her. He could smell her perfume, the one she wore every time he saw her, the one that had rooted itself in his brain, that he thought he could smell every time he thought of her. Which was a lot. The scent pulled his attention away from the sparkling wash of the stars and back to Zelda, and he resisted the impulse to bury his nose into her neck and breathe her in.

“Zelda, can I k—“

“Do they ever shut down any of the other rides for repairs?”

They spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Ah, forget it,” he mumbled, the moment gone. “Um, I don’t think so … Can’t we … can’t we talk about something else? Why do you even want to know?”

He could see her eyes widen in the dark as she looked at him.

“Oh … I was just curious!”

He’s struck with the realization that they rarely talk about anything else. Even before, when she would come and talk to him at his booth. Questions about the security at the park. About the rides. About the money. About Mr. Ganondorf, like Link would know anything about that. An icy tendril of dread began to worm its way through his middle, wrapping around his stomach and snaking its way up to his heart.

He stared at his hands, not really seeing them, but unable to look at her, either.

“You’ve been asking me a lot of weird questions. And wanting to look at a lot of weird stuff.”

Link began to feel very, very foolish. Foolish for ever thinking someone like Zelda would actually be interested in him. He should have known.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“What is this really about?”

Because it's not about me, is it, he thought.

He heard Zelda sigh.

“Link … I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t help the groan of dismay that crawled out of his throat at her words, pushing his hands into his hair as he dropped his head onto his knees. He laced his fingers over the back of his head as if shielding himself from more disappointment.

It had been such a shitty year. After struggling through a few semesters of college, anxiety had finally gotten the better of him, and he dropped out when his grades slipped and he was in danger of failing. He had taken the amusement park job because it was easy, and he thought it might be fun, and it would keep his dad off his back. But it turned out standing in a game booth all day was really boring, yet also exhausting, leaving him with just enough energy to get on the bus home and collapse in his bed. Of course once he dropped out his student loans had come due, and all of his income went right into the payments. He had no degree, no goal in life, no energy, and no money. And no Zelda.

His voice was hollow and muffled as he spoke into his knees.

“Do you even have a sister?”

Her silence told him all he needed to know. Zelda had told him that her family had a season pass to the park and she was chaperoning her sister while she ran around the park, which is why she was there so much.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m an only child.”

Link sat up, covering his face with his hands as if he could hide from the truth. Zelda had been the bright spot of the summer, appearing at his booth one day like some gift from the goddess. She was so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe it when she came up to talk with him one morning, not long after he started working at the park. He had mumbled and stuttered, and yet, a couple of days later, she’d come back and talked with him some more. And then a few days later, again. Soon he was jumping at every blonde head of hair he saw, scenting the breeze like a dog seeking her perfume. It made coming into work bearable, almost exciting, the hope he might see her enough to get him through the day.

She had played him. She’d used her short dresses and big green eyes and played him for the horny idiot he was. Link felt like his heart was going to crack in half.

“Why?”

He jerked his hands away from his face and looked over to her. Zelda sat on the log next to him, shredding a dead leaf in her fingers. She continued to stare at her hands as she spoke, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“I’m a reporter with the Hyrule Star Fragment. I think something bad is going on in the park. I needed some way to get access to the inner workings of the park so I could gather evidence.”

“And I was that access.”

Link gave a bitter laugh.

“I should have known,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “I should have known someone like you wouldn’t really want someone like me. Well, I hope you got all the information you needed. I hope it was worth it.”

Link stood up to leave. He didn’t need to sit here and continue to be humiliated.

“Come on, I’ll show you back to your car.”

“Link, wait! Please, let me explain.”

He stopped, arms wrapped around his middle like he could hold all of his heartache inside of him. He turned around to look back at her, still seated on the log, face just a light blur in the deep shadows of the trees.

“Mr. Ganondorf is not a good person. This park is dangerous, and people are getting hurt.”

“So? What does that have to do with me?”

Zelda huffed in exasperation, then stood and came over to him. She stood close to him, so close he could feel the heat of her body. It seemed so intimate, like they were the only ones in the whole world, and he felt the stupid animal part of him react to it. He squashed it down and took a step back.

“People’s lives are ruined because they get hurt here and Ganondorf just covers it up. They are injured and he makes it out to be their fault and then they lose their jobs and their homes because of their medical expenses. That he should have paid for! The rides are dangerous and are in disrepair and it won’t be long before someone is killed!”

Link really didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want her to make him care. But the park employees talked. He’d heard some stories, stories about people getting injured, employees disappearing. He’d chalked it up to gossip, but maybe there was truth to it. Maybe it wouldn’t be long until he was next.

“I’m trying to gather evidence so I can write an exposé for the paper. Help people to learn the truth about this park and what happens here. But I can’t do it alone. I’m sorry I misled you—”

“Lied to me.”

Zelda sighed.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t think … I didn’t think you’d want to help me. So I did what I thought would work. I didn’t think I’d …”

She dropped off there, leaving whatever she thought he’d do unsaid.

“You didn't think you'd what? You used me. How far would you have gone to keep me on a leash, telling you whatever you wanted? Would you have kissed me? Would you have fucked me? And then what, just dropped me once you got what you wanted?”

Link’s hurt and anger had boiled up so hot in him it made him nasty. He never talked like this to anyone, but it was as if all of his pent up rage at failing out of college, having to move back home, having his dad on his case at all times, had come pouring out. He hated himself more in this moment than he had all year. And he already hated himself quite a bit. But the words had been said and there was no taking them back now.

“No! I’d never!”

Link suddenly felt very weary, the rage flooding out of him almost as soon as it had filled him up.

“Then what?!”

Link had wanted to shout at her, but instead, his question came out as a quiet plea. His anger was quickly replaced with desperation. He just wanted to know how he fit into her grand scheme before they left the park and he never saw her again.

Zelda was silent for a moment, as if she battled over what to say to him. Or maybe she was just cooking up more lies to string him along some more.

“I didn’t think I’d actually like you,” she said, sounding defeated. “I thought I’d … I thought I’d just flirt with you, and ask you some questions, and maybe you’d show me around the park like you did. And once I knew where to go to get the answers I needed, I could disappear from your life and do what I needed to do.”

Link scoffed. He didn’t think his self loathing could get any worse but the way his heart lifted when she said she liked him proved him wrong. He just wanted so badly to have one right thing in his life.

“I hated lying to you, but by this time I didn’t think I could tell you the truth. I had planned to do as much as I could tonight and then …”

“And then drop me after that, right when I thought I had a chance.”

The fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes confirmed that theory.

“Let’s just go,” he sighed, and started to walk away.

“Link, please!” she cried, and grabbed his hand. In his mind he yanked his hand out of her grasp and stalked away, indignant. In reality, he stopped, once again relishing the feeling of her hand in his.

“I promise, no more lies,” Zelda said, quietly and urgently. “But I do need your help. I need employee access into the park. Ganondorf cannot be allowed to continue to ruin people’s lives just to make himself richer. And I’ll try to make it up to you.”

He huffed a disbelieving laugh.

“How?”

“Let me at least buy you dinner, and I’ll answer any of your questions. And if you want to part ways after that, then fine. And if not … maybe we can do this together.”

He looked at her, her hopeful face bathed in the light of the newly risen moon. Despite the lies, despite all of the deception, he believed her. He still felt like he should say no, remain on his high horse and leave her behind, drop her just as she had planned to drop him, but as usual, he was weak to anything she asked from him. It was just one night, Link reminded himself. He wouldn’t have to see her again if he didn’t want to.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “But I pick the restaurant.”

Zelda exhaled in relief.

“Oh thank you, Link! I promise you won’t regret it!”

Before he knew what was happening, she’d leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before yanking on his arm and dragging him out of the trees, through the gap in the fence, and out of the park, all without being spotted by security, just as he’d said.

Link thought he probably would regret it. But in the end, he decided he didn’t care.

[collecting-stories]

I Feel it all Over - t. 04 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Kiara surprises you at church and you spend the day with her, JJ, and Pope.

A/N: If you haven't ever listened to them...can I just highly recommended listening to The Maine (whose album You Are Ok this is based on)? They’re music is amazing...You Are Ok, American Candy, and Pioneer are probably my favorite albums of theirs. Plus they did an incredible cover of Watermelon Sugar...if you’re a fan of Harry Styles. 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ I swear to every god I feel everything tonight with you ✞

New patrons to the church were usually whole families that came to services, whose fathers or mothers agreed your father’s lesson and felt drawn to the “community” of the Baptist denomination. They responded to the clickbait phrases and did feel lost in their everyday life. It was very rare that any new member, or anyone testing the church out for the first time, would be a single person, a teenager far removed from the beliefs and traditions of the church. But there was Kiara, walking up the few steps into the vestibule. She wasn’t here because of any lost feelings; she was here because she wanted to get to know you more. What JJ had told her, and what she had seen for herself on Friday, was someone that she definitely wanted to be friends with.  

She had no bet to dictate how or when she became friends with you. She slipped into the line of people entering the church, catching sight of you standing by the door handing out pamphlets for that morning’s service. Making sure she was at the end of the line, she waved as she approached, happy to see you.  

“What are you doing here?” You asked, glancing into the church before giving her a quick hug. If your parents or any other family saw they would ask how you knew this complete stranger and why you seemed so friendly with someone who had never been to the church before.  

“JJ stole you on Friday,” she shrugged, “thought maybe we could hang out after church?”  

“Yeah,” you nodded, a story already formulating in your head to tell your parents. Your mother always said that a lie was the devil on your tongue and the first time she’d said it you were convinced that the devil had taken out real estate because you lied constantly, and with ease. Sometimes just to see if you could get away with it. “That would be amazing.”

As far as friends went, you had very few. Your main source of companionship had come from your brothers and sisters, other friends were just acquaintances from youth group or church retreats that you never really felt any deeper connection with. The further away from the fold you felt, the less you found a community for yourself. You had been doubting for so long now that anything within the church felt like a show you were putting on for other people’s amusement, the emotions weren’t real and niether were you.  

JJ wasn’t the first boy you had ever let yourself like but he was the first person you had ever felt comfortable being yourself around. There was no fear of judgement or rejection with him, nothing you said was turned into a weapon to make you feel guilty or unworthy, you didn’t have to pretend to be someone you weren’t. You had been nervous to meet his friends, feeling so different from them, but Kiara and Pope had been nice, welcoming, and all you felt was ease. Even now, seeing Kiara had put a more genuine smile on your face than seeing your family visiting for church.

“I wore my best ‘church’ outfit,” Kiara said, gesturing to the maxi dress and sweater she was wearing. The dress was backless and strappy but it was the only thing she owned that wasn’t short. She’d thrown a sweater overtop, hoping she could play off the dress better.

“You blend right in,” you laughed, “I’m relegated to sit up front...I don’t know if you wanna sit with me up there?”

“Lead the way.”

The “peace be with you’s” weren’t too bad and you lied to your mom when she asked how you knew Kiara, telling her that you had met at Heyward's and invited Kiara to church because she was interested in the tract you had. Your mother’s love for testimony and her conviction that people really did want to be approached on the street and harassed about their faith were enough to convince her that your story was solid. It was enough, even, to give you permission to go to lunch with Kiara after service was over.  

Kiara hadn’t been to church since she was thirteen and her mom decided that she was old enough to choose whether or not she actually wanted to be there. That sort of power and responsibility had been all Kiara needed to ditch Sunday service altogether and spend her mornings out on the waves with the pogues, worshipping a different sort of force. She was a lot less religious and a lot more spiritual now though she listened intently to your father preaching. The opinions were hogwash, nothing to bat an eye at, but the actual teachings were interesting. You seemed relatively invested in those parts too, your notes, Kiara realized, looked a lot more like a theology lesson than a preacher’s condemnation of society.  

“You know a lot about the bible,” Kiara mentioned once you were out of church and back at her house, changing into jeans and a shirt of hers.  

“I like studying religion, theology,” you clarified, “my grandfather knew a lot about the texts. Not like my dad, he’s just...got his own ideas. My grandfather knew the Greek and Hebrew translations and spent years studying other religions as well. It was so cool to talk to him about it. I like that part, the history, the context, more than the ‘fundamentalist/evangelical crap’ my dad touts.”

“Is that something you’d study?” She asked, pulling a tank top on over her bathing suit, “like in college?”

“My parents won’t let me go to college.” You replied.  

“That’s so crazy, my parents would kill me if I didn’t go.”

You spent the drive to Kiara’s dad’s restaurant explaining your parents future plan for your life, including telling her about the boy that your parents wanted you to marry. When she asked if JJ knew you admitted that he did and that you weren’t really sure what was going to happen when you turned eighteen. You knew what your parents wanted, for you to get engaged and then quickly married, but that wasn’t what you wanted at all.  

“If I say that though...there’s a good chance I’d be ex-communicated. Not just from the church but from my family. One of my cousins defected and no one speaks to her anymore.” You said, “it’s like a massive stain on her family’s reputation.”

“Yeah but if she’s happy, does it matter?”

“It’s...it’s not just that I haven’t worn jeans or drank a soda,” you said, following Kiara out onto the back deck to eat, “it’s that I don’t have anyone outside my family. It’s not just being sheltered, it’s being isolated. And I know that, and I hate it but...it’s all I know.”  

“None of your siblings have done it differently?”  

“No.” You shook your head, “I think I would’ve been fine coasting too...I was pretty much set that this was it ya know? But then...JJ asked me out.” You admitted.

Kiara frowned, “yeah but you don’t know what’s gonna happen with JJ in the future.”

You shrugged, “it’s not just about him...it’s me, feeling happier and more confident.”  

“Talking about me?” JJ’s voice came from behind you and you turned around, watching him and Pope walk up to the railing of the deck. He put his hands on the railing, pulling himself up so he could lean over and kiss your cheek.

“I should’ve known you guys would crash.” Kiara said, rolling her eyes as JJ climbed the rest of the way up, hopping over the railing onto the deck.  

“What’re you guys up to?” Pope asked, staying on the other side.

“Kie mentioned taking the ferry to Chapel Hill.” You replied, “I have to be back before dark though.”

“So what’re we waiting for?” JJ said, grabbing your soda and taking a sip.  

-

The four of you rode the ferry over to Chapel Hill, standing on the back deck the whole time talking. Kiara suggested shopping the moment you got off the ferry, telling you that all she wanted was to see you pick out an actual outfit.  

“Nothing hand-me-down or borrowed, just like a real, honest outfit that you pick out.” Kiara said, taking your hand in hers as she pushed open the door to one of the small stores along the main road.  

JJ followed you to the back of the store where the sale racks were, skimming through clothes, holding up different things that were still a little too far out of your comfort zone. You shook your head at a spaghetti strapped mini dress, pulling a crossover out to show him, “I like this one.”

“Try it on.” He shrugged.  

“Where’s the changing area?” You asked, looking around the small area.  

JJ grabbed your hand, “over here.” He led you to the curtained off stalls, pulling you into one of them and hanging the dress up.  

“I have a very strong feeling that if anyone caught us we would be in massive trouble.” You whispered, biting your lip to stop from laughing as JJ moved so that you were looking in the mirror and he was behind you, hands on your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into the space between your shirt and your neck, kissing the exposed skin.  

“Yeah but you’ve never been shopping so what do you know?” JJ replied, as if it was obvious and he wasn’t just bullshitting you to stay in the changing room.  

You turned in his arms, putting your hands over his, “I’m not changing with you in here.”

“Fine,” he groaned, “If I leave will you try on something for me?”

“Fine.” You mimicked. You kissed him, initiating it for yourself this time, before pushing him into the curtain. He gave another exasperated sigh as he swept the curtain out of the way and left you to change.

Alone in the dressing room, you changed out of your clothes and tried on the floral wrap dress. It tied off at the waist, cutting a deep V and a slit up to your thigh. It was a dress but not like any you had ever worn before. You pushed the curtain enough that you could peek out to see JJ. He was slouched in the chair, texting, while he waited for you.

“I thought you were picking something out?” You said, looking over at him.

He shrugged, “I’d rather see what you like then pick something out for you.”  

“Thanks,” you nodded.  

JJ watched you as you pushed the curtain back and stepped out of the changing room. “Holy shit,” he mouthed. “Wait, don’t move!”

“What? Why?” You asked as he lifted his phone in front of his face.  

“I wanna picture of this.” He replied. Sure, he had seen you in a dress before but he had never seen you in a dress like this, one that actually fit you well, that wasn’t trying to hide your figure but accentuate it. One that you looked so incredibly happy in.  

“So I take it I don’t look half bad?” You joked, stepping further out when he had stashed his phone and stood up.  

“Half bad? You look...incredible.” JJ replied. Deciding it was worth mentioning, he added, “you look really happy.”

“I really like this dress. I’ve never really...liked anything I’ve worn before. Like, it’s just always felt like, clothes. This is different.” You admitted.

Your clothes were just whatever hand-me-downs fit you. From siblings, relatives, church members, it was never your stuff, you never chose it, never got to say what you liked or disliked.  

“Oh my god!” Kiara exclaimed, coming over and interrupting your moment with JJ, “you look so pretty.”  

“Thanks.” You nodded, smiling at her, “I think I’m gonna get it.”  

“Let me.” JJ piped up and you looked over at him.  

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He insisted.  

There was little further discussion to be had about it, JJ purchasing the dress for you and the four of you wandering around the rest of Chapel Hill, heading in and out of a few different shops. Pope talked to you about his future college plans and you listened intently. Being with JJ was amazing but being able to be friends with a guy, just sitting with Pope and not having to consider anything other that friendship, was so underrated in your life. You had never been friends with a boy either.  

-

Kiara drove you back to your house after you changed, just getting inside as your sister Praise was setting the table. “Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late!” You apologized, “Kie and I were just chatting and I lost track of time.”

“That’s okay Ace, mom was just telling us about Timothy’s visit. Are you excited?” Praise asked, wrapping her arms around you in a hug.  

You hugged her back, “I’m very excited.” You lied.  

Robert gave you a hug as you walked further into the house, handing off a baby and soon you were outside, supervising kids while your other siblings sat and chatted with your parents around the table. You were only two years younger than Robert but he was married with a kid and another on the way and that automatically made you still a kid. Though you felt less and less like a kid every day.  

Your parents talked about Timothy’s visit and their own upcoming trip, ignoring anything that actually had to do with you or your interests. Even Praise, in talking about your upcoming nuptials, mentioned that her dress was still in good condition if you needed one.  

“Oh, wouldn’t that be amazing Ace? You could wear Praise’s dress?” Your mother mentioned from across the table, smiling at you as if all her dreams were being realized right there at the table.

“Amazing.”  

-

The sound of tapping at your window startled you as you sat on the bed, reading before sleep. You walked over, lifting the blinds to see JJ standing there. He waved as you opened the window for him.  

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you, I wanted to see you.” He replied, leaning into the window space.  

“You just saw me earlier.” You pointed out.  

“I also wanted to know if you wanted to go for a ‘midnight swim’ with me, Kie, and Pope?” JJ said, “we’re taking the HMS out. John B and Sarah don’t feel like going out and I figured you might.”

“I’m lucky no one caught me last time JJ,” you replied, “I don’t know if I can risk it.”

“That’s fine,” he said, “you don’t have to.”

You bit your bottom lip, glancing back over at your door. Your parents were asleep for the night and the thought of getting to spend more time with JJ was just too tempting for you to say no too. You were sure your dad had some bible verse to offer for you as proof that this was an evil infatuation but you could care less, agreeing to go and grabbing the swimsuit that JJ had given you. “Just let me change.”

“Can do.” JJ turned around, back to the window, and you almost laughed.  

You changed quickly before climbing out the window, “I better not get in trouble for this.”

JJ led you through the woods to John B’s house, just like the night of the kegger, taking you down to the jetty. Kiara waved when she saw you and Pope helped you onto the HMS.  

“I can’t believe you let him sneak you out.” Pope joked as JJ boarded the boat.  

He drove you out on the marsh, parking in an open area where they couldn’t be seen by lights at the edge of anyone’s yard. The HMS didn’t have lights itself and they banked on that to keep themselves mostly out of trouble. Kiara lit a lantern in the middle of the boat but otherwise it was dark as they jumped in, JJ hanging back with you.  

The two of you sat on the bench together, in your own little world seemingly. “Can I try a sip?” You asked, holding your hand out for the beer he was drinking.  

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, positive.”  

He passed the beer over, laughing when you took a big gulp and then practically spit in out. “Oh my god, that’s horrible!” You cried, sticking your tongue out.  

“I warned you.” He laughed.

“Not enough,” you replied, “that’s really gross.”  

“Sorry babe,” he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him and kissing your cheeks and then your lips. “We’ll stick to soda for now.”  

“Yes please.” You replied, kissing him back.

“Quit macking on each other and get in the water!” Pope shouted, grabbing on to the side of the boat and pushing himself up so that the HMS would rock slightly.  

You grabbed onto JJ more, laughing as the boat swayed.  

“What the fuck Pope, we’re coming.” He grumbled. “I’m trying to spend time with my girlfriend.”

-

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