#i kept the ending a little open for a reason so everyone could envision their own ending

[shellshocklove]

Bruh I will not forget had me SOBBINGGGGG I am heart broken. I need closure or something. Do what you want to do, but I wanted to request post-end blurb where like maybe Y/n actually works towards moving on but with the help of Rhys (having just a slight bit of hope for that relationship kept me from breaking at the end). Maybe Y/n opens up to him about her past with Tom. And he’s like “fuck the monarchy” and she’s like “I did look where it got me?” Idk I want her to have a happy ending even if it’s a bittersweet one. Where she allows herself to find happiness elsewhere, even if it means not forgetting him completely. (But at least put up boundaries so Tom doesn’t just enter her life when he pleases anymore).

OR something related to the flowers where Rhys is staying close to her in the hospital and when they’re delivered (by John), the word travels to Tom that he was there and he takes it as like a final sign to leave the past alone (assuming she’s moved on) and he’s all sad and shit, BUT SHE’S finding the happiness she deserves.

But again it’s your story if it goes against the ending you envisioned totally okay too😭❤️❤️ love the series.

hi! thank you so much for reading! really! thank you so much!! <3

i decided that the last blurb is the ending- so i won't write anymore for them... but your post-blurb thoughts are very much in tow with what i think happened after the last blurb. i really think y/n and rhys will get together at some point. i'm not sure it would happen right away. she's just had the miscarriage and she's grieving that along with the royal baby news. i don't think she'll ever tell anyone about her relationship with tom tho- not even rhys. maybe she has photos and memorabilia of their relationship tucked away in a shoebox in the basement or something, but i don't think anyone will ever know. she has too much respect for tom i think (him as a person, not the monarchy).

i don't think tom will ever know y/n moved on (if she ever really did), or what happened after she disappeared. he was very lost and depressed at the end, and as much as it might hurt i think the baby will give him some purpose. him and gen will never be together together, but at least they have the baby, and he loves his child!

the fic is bittersweet! there will always be a what if with them, but the last song on the fic playlist is no hard feelings by wolf alice for a reason. the songs lyrics reflect how i both envisioned them to feel at the end:

the threads that kept us together, were already wearing thin / would we ever have tied the knot, well how long is a piece of string? / and for everything that ends something else must begin / no hard feelings, honey, and we both will take the win

[qyllenhaal]

❛ Bunny ❜

Series: The Devil I Know

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k~

Summary: Reader Surprises Chris on their week long vacation together with something that he's been begging for for a long time

warnings: 18+ only!!! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, roleplay, creampie, breeding kink, cumplay, age gap (reader is in her late 20s)

A/N: I'm hoping to start taking requests soon! I've been so busy with life that my ideas for this series are drying up.

Enjoy!

Y/n would be a damn liar if she said she wasn't turned on by the roleplay idea that Chris brought to her and the way he kept calling her his "bunny." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes at first, it just sounded so ridiculous to her, but the more she thought about it. the easier it became to envision it happening.

Her in a Playboy bunny costume sounded so basic to her, but the excitement in Chris's eyes showed that it meant something to him.

She felt guilty as he explained how boring his sex life was before meeting her. He was trying to make her feel better about the idea, and feel a sense of pride, instead she felt loathsome. She wasn't able to determine if she felt more sorry for him or his wife. Their marriage was dying anyway and was going to die whether or not Y/n was in the picture, but she still felt awful about being the final death blow to their multi-decade marriage. He wanted to take her up to his father's cabin up north while his wife stayed home? It sounded good in theory but something about it made it hard for her to say yes.

"C'mon, you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off to get Withers primaried and you actually have a chance of unseating him. Don't you think you should relax? You work so hard all the time honey."

It was all too enticing to say no; to be whisked away from an entire week and ravished by her lover.

"There she is," he teased when he saw that smile forming on her face, "I knew you'd come around to it. I'm going to make sure you don't lift a finger, and you get to taste my famous ceviche."

He kissed her cheek and let her get back to work before she could come up with a reason that causes her to change her mind.

Y/n kept her excitement to herself but she was over the moon. Once she let the guilt simmer, she began to fantasize about the possibilities of an entire week of having Chris all to herself without interruption. They'll be able to act like a normal couple if only for a week.

She got herself through two weeks of more tough work, but it was fulfilling to know that she was succeeding in her work, and that she had a trip with Chris on the horizon.

He hadn't brought up his little idea since she'd agreed to go on the trip. It seems as if he forgot all about it as his shock that she said yes had consumed his thoughts. Y/n couldn't let it go though. She couldn't stop thinking about it now that they were going to be gone for an entire week. She could wear that little get up for days and give him a sight that's going to be etched into his brain until the day he dies. Y/n loves that she has that effect over him; the ability to make his heart race and his cock hard with just a simple look.

It was not a cheap costume to buy because she didn't just want to buy any regular costume that could be bought at party city. No, she wanted something that was better quality and could endure Chris attempting to tear it off her body. She paid extra for the shipping so she had it in time.

When it was finally in her possession, she stared at it in awe. She was tempted to put it on, to see how she looked in it, but she wanted it to be a surprise for both herself and Chris. The material it was made of felt nice; the entire costume looked like it could've been owned by a real playmate. It wasn't often that Y/n felt overwhelmingly sexy, but she did just simply staring at the costume in its precious box. Chris was up in age, she hoped he didn't have a heart attack.

-

"It's so beautiful up here."

When Chris said a cabin up north, she didn't think all the way up north in Maine. But it was perfect. Only two weeks into fall but the trees were filled with vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves.

The cabin was near a river that held the reflection of the trees. It seemed as if it had gone untouched for years, but it was filled with pictures. Y/n could pick out the face of a younger Chris in some of the photos, but everyone else was unrecognizable.

"That's my grandfather," he interrupted her thoughts when he caught her lingering on a particular picture.

She glanced at him before bringing her eyes back down to the image again. "You look so much like him," her fingers skirted across the glass. She felt a weird pang of longing hit her in the stomach. It's as if Chris wasn't just a few feet away from her. Maybe what she felt inside was shame disguised as something else.

"C'mon," he grabbed the framed picture from her hand and placed it back where she found it, "I wanna show you something."

Y/n trailed behind him, her hand in his, as he guided her through the house and up the stairs.

Chris led her upstairs and to another set of stairs. He took her to a dusty attic which somewhat confused her. Then grabbed a box that looked older than her.

"Remember that time you tried to show me that constellation...what was it...Be- Belt- B-"

"Betelgeuse."

"Yea that was the one," he took the top off of the box and she peered into it, "now you can show me other star thingys in the sky."

She laughed but wrapped her arms around his neck. It was an unsuspecting gesture from him, but she welcomed it nonetheless. He could get really sentimental at times and it would just make it harder on her that she couldn't publicly love on him.

"It's great Chris. Let's just hope the skies are clear one of these nights."

He smiled and kissed her cheek for the nth time today.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get started on my famous ceviche. You enjoy yourself however you want. Walk around, explore the place," he stroked her cheek before leaving her alone to go get started on dinner for the two of them.

It had been a long day of driving and all Y/n wanted to do was go to sleep, but something was buzzing inside of her. She hated that Chris's dinner and "famous ceviche" was probably going to go to waste because if her plan works successfully then he isn't going to give a damn about dinner.

Y/n made sure she packed the box holding the costume at the very bottom of her suitcase. She held her breath as she held it up in the air and stared at it. She's sure that she could wear a garbage bag and Chris would still want to fuck her but she couldn't stop herself from being so nervous about putting it on.

She did it anyway and was relieved when what she saw in the mirror looking back at her wasn't so bad. In fact, she looked sexy. The look was complete with the bunny ears and bowtie. She wore a simple lipstick, one that was going to be smeared later on, paired with coats of mascara. At the end of night Y/n wanted to see the proof of his handiwork.

Even though she knew he wanted this, she was nervous about how he'd feel about her "act". She's been deliberating for a week whether or not she should go all the way with the fantasy but why not? Chris deserved it after convincing her to come on this trip. Besides, he works hard too.

"Hun, the food is ready!"

A few seconds of silence didn't make him flinch, but after a few more minutes passed and he didn't hear footsteps coming down the stairs, he was confused. Another call of her name resulted in nothing but silence; she didn't even respond to "Button."

She could be asleep, he thought, but he was still curious. If she was then he could at least catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, put the food away, and then come join her.

"Y/n?" His voice got softer as he approached their bedroom. It was cracked enough for him to see that the light was on. He pushed it open and there his girl was. On the bed and dressed like she stepped out of his dreams.

"What is this?" His laughter was mixed with interest and disbelief. Just some time ago she was vehemently saying "no!" regarding his idea and now she was dressed like a Playboy bunny.

"Do you like it, daddy? I got it just for you."

Chris felt himself hardening in his jeans. Sheer tights stretched over her thighs and he just wanted to rip it off her body. She looked good enough to ruin.

"Of course I like it Button," he cooed as he approached her waiting body on the bed. He touched the material of her outfit still in a state of disbelief. This was his ultimate fantasy.

"I'm glad you like it. I did it just for you daddy," her voice was soft, girlish, and coquettish as she palmed his cock through his jeans. He swears he could cum just from this if she kept it up. He grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're a naughty little bunny, aren't you?"

"Nooo daddy I've been good," she inched herself backwards on the bed before slowly turning onto her stomach all the while keeping eye contact with him, "I've been a good girl."

"I suppose you have," he didn't even try to argue against her claims. That pout on her lips made him incredibly harder.

Chris ran his hands over her ass and she mewled softly at his warm, strong hands on her. Y/n closed her eyes, a cocky smile on her lips knowing that she probably turned his brain into mush. She pushed her ass into his touch for more.

"The things I want to do to you..."

"Tell me daddy. What do you want to do to me?"

"Uh uh, you don't go demanding things around here. You've been a good girl, but I can easily change my mind. I can make you take my fingers and edge you while you wish it was my big cock splitting you open, but I don't think my bunny wants that."

She pouted and pressed her face into the bed. Chris chuckled at how easily her demeanor changed. He put his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed her hips to drag her ass to his pelvis. She gasped at the swift movement whimpered when he started to mime fucking her.

"Oh baby you look so good like this. I don't know if I want to keep you all pretty and in this costume while I fuck you, or take it off of you and ruin that cute little face of yours."

He had plans to do both, but he liked to hear her whimper when he told her about the utter filthy things he was going to do to her. If she thought he was going to rip it off of her without savoring how good she looks then she's wrong.

He's so grateful that he packed that polaroid Y/n gave to him as a birthday gift. It was how he got around her "no pictures" rule. She never let him take pictures of her, not even on the second phone he bought just to contact her. How could he not document how she looks after cumming hard for him? Or when he leaves a trail of white all across her bare chest? He often had to rely on his memory, but he planned on this trip being different.

"Stay just like that Bun."

Y/n broke her character for a little bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arched back when he left the room. Sometimes he did little things that annoyed her, but the way she jumped back into her character when she heard him come back showed her that the annoyance was just a façade.

"So perfect," the camera's shutter fired and the camera spit out the first ever photo he has taken of her.

Y/n wanted to protest against him, but she stayed silent. It wouldn't hurt to have a few polaroid's as keepsakes; she even looked back at him and made eyes at the camera.

Chris could spend all day photographing her, but the strain in his pants was becoming too painful. He placed the camera down and stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come put that pretty little mouth of yours to use."

Y/n hopped up from her position and found herself on the floor in between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She clumsily fumbled with his belt and fastener on his pants. "Eager little bunny, slow down a bit," he taunted.

She tried to listen, but she's desperate to get him in her mouth. His hard cock springs out from its restraint and almost hits her cheek. She gasps lovingly at the pre-cum seeping from his blunt head. She wanted to taste it, but she didn't do it without Daddy's permission. Instead she wrapped her hand around his length and squeezed him.

Chris watched her stare at his cock in awe, like she wasn't already familiar with it. She gave him a few languid pumps and he sighed at her soft touch. He thought about how beautiful it would be to paint his cum across her breast. She looked like an absolute sex-pot; it was hard for him to control himself.

"That feels so good, bunny. You're such a good girl — keep pumping me...a little faster bun... good girl," his praising voice was as smooth as a cat's purr. Y/n felt the presence of her arousal when her sex pressed against the material of her costume.

The pre-cum oozing from his tip made her mouth water. He didn't instruct her to do anything further, but she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her lips around his length. He didn't seem to have a problem with it either because he sighed and pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

"You're so beautiful like this bunny...my precious girl," he cooed between breaths.

Her mouth felt like heaven, her warm tongue laving him with saliva and washing pleasure over him. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen spasming as she sucked on him faster and feverishly. The concentration on her face was so cute to him, but greatly juxtaposed by the light makeup that was beginning to smudge on her face.

His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged on him. Y/n tried to pull herself off, but he kept her still, forcing her to relax her throat while he filled her mouth.

"That's it girl — fuck — you're going to make me cum. Is that what you want? Me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?"

Y/n tried to shake her head no and say out loud, but she was muffled by his cock. She loves to watch him jerk over her tongue or other parts of body until he cums, but she wanted him to cum while he was fucking her; he could always paint her tits later.

"You don't want me to cum down your throat bunny? Where do you want me to cum?"

Chris knew she was unable to answer, but that was apart of the thrill. His ego was through the roof and the sense of power he felt because of this was astounding. She made him feel so many things at once, but all he was concerned with now is seeing her body shiver with pleasure.

He let go of his physical grip on her and she took the opportunity to come up from her. Her lips were pink and there was a line of saliva collecting her mouth to his cock.

"Look at you, so pretty," he petted her as he stared into her eyes that held a glossy look of desire for him and him only, "get on the bed bunny."

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to make her cum over and over again until his name was the only thing left on the tip of her tongue. As she laid out on the bed for him, in a costume just for him, he wondered how he got so lucky with her. They were so different, but they were somehow meant for each other.

"You're so gorgeous," his hands glided down her stocking-covered thighs. He squeezed her flesh and he groaned as if he could feel what he was doing to her. She made him dizzy just from how beautiful she was.

Y/n's body anticipated every stroke of his hands on her body. He didn't leave an inch of her exposed skin untouched. He touched and looked at her like she might disappear at any moment. It was his mission to memorize how her body feels under his touch.

"Daddy," she whined, not being able to stand to ache between her legs anymore. She isn't sure what she wanted him to do, she just wanted him to do something.

"Be patient, sweet thing. Let me take in how beautiful my little bunny looks."

"You like when I dress up for you, daddy?" She further parted her legs as a suggestion for him to place himself between her legs. Chris picked up on what she was doing, but he didn't follow through.

"My perfect little bunny," his voice trailed off as he palmed her breast through the costume.

Y/n moaned and arched into his touch. It wasn't long before he was pawing at the top of the costume to free her breast. The costume was tight against her body, but he managed to get what he wanted. He cupped her tits before he leaned down to wrap his lip around her nipple. His thumb teased the other one, stroking it to life. Her delightful sighs sounded heavenly.

"Feels so good," Y/n whined. She tried to grind against him in desperation but he wasn't having any of it. More of his weight was pressed against her to keep her still. He switched over to sucking on her other nipple. His eyes met hers before lightly closing from the feeling of ecstasy.

The mess that was forming between her legs was becoming unbearable. Y/n knew for a fact that she soaked through her costume and with just one swipe of his hand, Chris would be able to feel it. She didn't say anything but she was just so impatient and wanted him to give the same attention to her sex. But he wanted to savor her in this costume before he takes it off of her and just fucks her in the bunny ears.

"This body is so perfect."

As his hands slowly slid across her stomach, the cogs began to turn in her head; she wanted this night to fulfill all of his fantasies.

After taking his sweet time with her body, Chris was finally getting her out of the costume. It won't be the last time she wears it this week, but it was bittersweet to see her out of. However her body alone was driving him wild. She still had the bunny ears on which made her look incredibly cute.

"My lil' Bunny has been so patient for me," he kissed her cheek before moving to kiss the front of her throat, "I'm gonna reward that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n felt the lust boiling over as Chris moved down her body and his was finally home between her legs. "You got so wet for me bun," he taunted her. His fingers prodded at her slit but didn't push in all the way like she needed. It was torturous to tease her when she had been such an obedient girl for him.

He didn't keep her waiting for long. His tongue was diving through her silky folds to get a good taste of her.

"Undress daddy, baby."

The gruff of his voice made her feel even wetter. She often teased him for being so much older than her but oh did she love all the psychical manifestations of his age. The grey in his hair drove her wild, and she loved how grey his beard was whenever he grew it out.

She grabbed at his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The light dusting of grey hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. She couldn't stop herself when she leaned in to nip at his collar bone. Her lips were so sweet on his body making his head spin. She started tugging at his pants while her lips were still on his skin. He did most of the work, but he didn't care, he just needed to be freed of his restricting clothes.

Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped him.

Chris sighed into her ear, "wanna cum on my tongue or my cock bunny?"

"Your cock daddy! Bunny needs your cream inside of her," she whined.

He thought about fucking her the entire drive; his mind thinking of all the things they could do alone, but he never thought he be blessed with this.

"My little bunny wants my cock? You want to get on all fours and show me how dripping you are?"

Y/n nodded her head, eyes wide with lust and her bottom lip slightly poking out.

"Good girl. Show daddy just how pretty you are."

She moved from his arms and laid her head against the bed as her ass stuck in the air. Chris got off the bed and stood against the very edge. His strong hands laid gently against her ass and he pulled her puffy lips apart with his fingers.

"Fuck girl," he groaned, unable to contain the desire he felt," you're dripping. You're dripping for daddy, aren't you? I thought you were a good little bunny, but only slutty bunnies get this wet."

Her body tensed when his left thumb dragged against her clit. It was swollen and so sensitive to his touch.

Chris's cock was hard and ready to be inside of her warm silk. He had brought the condoms that felt like nothing along with him; two boxes since they were going to be together for six more days.

She heard him tearing something up, but she looked back at him and reached up at him.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He furrowed his brow but still held the half ripped condom wrapper in his hand.

"No condom daddy. I want to feel all of you."

He groaned and he felt his cock become impossibly harder. They had gone back to condoms because Y/n said stopped taking her birth control when she stopped speaking to him, believing that they were possibly going to stop this relationship. She also said she was going to start again, but he just could not remember if she said her doctors appointment was happening this month or next month.

"Are you on the pill?" His tone had a hint of excitement to it, but ultimately he was concerned; she was always strict about protection.

"I don't know," she said feigning innocence, batting her lashes at him and wiggling her hips in anticipation for his cock. This little character she decided to adapt was driving him crazy.

"Don't lie to me girl," he gripped her arm and she whimpered. His rough handling of her had made her even wetter.

"I'm not! I really don't know daddy!"

She knew, and he knows that she does, but he was too weak by the sight of her bent over in her little bunny ears with her wet cunt exposed to him. Her ass began to sway from side to side, calling him to come closer. But what she wanted him to made him think to himself: 'is she fucking crazy?'

"I need you so bad daddy. Please ruin your little bunny," her voice was sweet as candy.

Chris always wanted her but something about this unlocked a deep hunger inside of him. The risk of this made his heart race and sweat form on his skin, but he wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Baby," he placed a hand around his cock to help guide it inside of her, "I'm gonna ruin this pretty fucking body of yours."

He fully sheathed himself inside of her and Y/n sighed with tenderness. The small touch of his hand on her lower back felt so incredibly intimate and she was grateful that he convinced her to come on this trip.

"You feel so fucking good girl," he pulled out just a few inches only to push back in, "I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, pretty baby?"

Y/n is unsure what is more taunting: the tone of his voice or his increasing pace. Both of his hands now grabbed her hips and she swooned over how large they felt holding her. He dragged her back onto his cock until he was nearly pounding her. Each thrust was ruining her softly.

His thrust became more wild as he felt her walls grip his entire length. She felt so warm and wet around him. He missed being bare inside of her, feeling her entirety from the inside.

Soon her little bunny ears were falling off of her head as he fucked her hard. There was something so intoxicating about ruining everything that's so perfect about her. He loved that she gave him permission to do so too.

"Look at me," he said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her arm and forced it against her back. Y/n twisted her upper half to look up at him. She placed her hand on top of his for a glimmer of intimacy in this moment of nasty brutal fucking.

"I'm gonna pump you full of me, bunny. Good girls get all my cum."

Every time he slid home inside of her, stretching her completely, she cried out louder. Her thighs trembled and shook with each thrust into her. He was fucking so hard it was almost mindblowing. She always teased him for being an "old man" but he was proving that his age didn't hinder him from pounding into her.

He was getting closer and closer to slipping over the edge. She just feels so warm and tight around him, her contracting walls inviting him to cum inside of her. He loved being able to see her face as she hit every spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

"I feel that pussy tightening up," he spoke breathlessly. He tried to concentrate on his words but her wet cunt rendered him speechless. "Cum for me bunny."

Y/n began to meet his thrust. Lust bloomed in her stomach when she imagined feeling him empty inside of her. They were so incredibly close and if they kept this up they could cum together.

"Give it to me daddy" she whispered, staring back at his face, "please cum inside of me...I've been such a good girl...I need it so bad."

Chris's thrust got sloppy as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to spasm. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Y/n started cumming around his cock and her pussy tightening up hugged his cock and milked him. "Fuck!" He grunted loudly as he fucked the both of them through their orgasms.

Despite her body being too hypersensitive to take anymore, she whimpered when he pulled out of her.

"Keep that ass up in the air."

Chris grabbed her ass cheeks to spread her open. "Push it out for me bunny." His cum came seeping out of her hole and slid through her folds. He spread it around her sex with two fingers before pushing it back into her hole. She gasped when she felt him slide back into her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, still hungry for more. He wanted to fuck her again, but he was too tired to go again.

"You're going to wear me out girl," he joked, laying next to her on the bed. She looked just as tired as him but that look in her eye indicated that she was completely satisfied.

"It's been a long time since you've fucked me like that. I think I should wear that costume more often."

He placed his palm against her face and she leaned into like she always did. She closed her eyes and felt lulled by the sound of his now steady breathing. This moment together felt like it could last a lifetime. Y/n wishes that they could just stay here forever instead of a week. If she never had to think about an empty promise ever again, she'd be content for the rest of her days.

[parkersroses]

are you taking requests ? if you are could you write something about y/n’s dad being a musician who’s helping harry write his album and he wants to take y/n on a date but she has a rule about not going out with musicians, you can choose the ending or change whatever you want !

music in me. | harry styles.

summary: Harry and Y/N are both pining for each other but don't know how to tell the other.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

warning(s): fluff <3

a/n: heyyy! to the anon who requested this, i hope you like it! i wasn't planning on doing requests but this was a cute concept and i couldn't help but write it. i tweaked it a bit but it's still the same concept. hope everyone likes it too! reblog (!!) and comment if you do, here's my ko-fi! all my love <3

—

He’s the only one in the room, sitting on the piano bench with his lyric journal out. Lyrics to a song are written messily on the pages with annotations. Piano notes scribbled along the lines, some are crossed out because he didn’t think it sounded right.

While everyone else were out for a break, Harry insisted on staying in the studio to try and finish a song, telling them he’s okay as long as they get him some black coffee or a snack. He quite enjoys the quietness of it and it helps him focus. Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, a pretty girl would pass by and Harry would get distracted by said girl. He’s known her for a while now, having to be the daughter of one of the producers he was working with.

When he met her for the first time, Harry swore that he was entranced by her beauty and sweetness that she exuded before him. She had a voice as sweet as honey and a lot of kindness to share around the room. She stops by the studio once in a while to help out her father, most times she’d come in bringing homemade sandwiches and some pastries from a nearby bakery. Harry once kept telling her how he was a cashier at a bakery one time and she laughed as she told him she knew. Besides, no one forgets that the Harry Styles worked at a bakery.

Harry very much likes her; he guesses that he might have developed a small crush on her. She’s stayed a couple of times with him in the studio and even gave him some of her thoughts which he never knew meant a lot to him. He enjoys her company and finds it lovely to have formed a friendship with her. The fact that he was working with her father didn’t really phase them. They were good friends.

Yeah, good friends.

Except he wishes he wasn’t afraid to ask for more.

He’s playing around with the keys, eyes closed as he envisions what the song would best sound like. Occasionally, he’d cringe if he hits the wrong key or the order was just off. He’s so into working on the piano that he doesn’t realise a familiar face walking into the room.

Y/N smiles at the picture laid out in front of her. She’s carrying a drink carrier with both her drink and Harry’s; she might have heard that he would be in here. She almost doesn’t want to disturb him as he seems so tranquil in his own world, creating art for the whole world to hear.

She contemplates on calling his name by doesn’t as he snaps out of his world and sees her. “Oh! Hi!” He smiles at the sight of her. She returns the smile and walks over to him by the piano.

“Hey. Got you some things. Thought you might be hungry so I got food too,” she lifts the bag and drinks in front of him and sets it on top of the piano. He thanks her and takes his cup, his name clearly written in black sharpie on it. He blows the steam of his coffee as she takes out the food she got for them, some seafood pasta. Something in him seems to lighten up when he sees this, knowing he had mentioned to her once about his pestacarian diet. So, it warms his heart that she would get something he’s able to eat.

“Have to be honest, I was actually getting a bit hungry just sitting here, waiting for the others.” He chuckles as he takes the packed container and reaches for the wooden utensils she brought. “Well, why didn’t you just go with them?” She asks as she twists her fork onto the pasta.

He shrugs at this. “Just thought I’d work on this. Besides, you got me food now and I didn’t even ask,” he teases her. Both of them laugh as she nudges his shoulder.

The two of them settle on their meals, making small talk in between bites. Harry almost feels a bit shy having to sit alone in the studio next to a pretty girl he’s been crushing. It’s not like he doesn’t want to tell her. He’s gotten the hint that she might like him too. From the way her eyes are always focused on him whenever he has to say something to the remembrance of the little things he mentioned to her. She looks at him the way he thinks he looks at her, full of awe and adoration.

He so desperately wants to take her out, but a lot of things might get in the way of that. The big elephant in the room is her father. He doesn’t want people to think he only likes her because Harry is working with her father and he certainly doesn’t want him to think that way either. And he knows how mean people can be sometimes.

But Harry doesn’t care all that much about what people would say. He’d protect her with everything in him. Question is whether she would want to do this with him too.

“How’s the song coming along?” She nods towards the book in front of him as she swallows her food. He stares at her for a second, admiring how lovely she looks today before averting his gaze. “It’s alright, I guess. Just figuring out the keys and all. Might not even make the album with how it’s sounding.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

She stifles a laugh as she studies the messy annotations on this page. “Oh no. Doesn’t sound good enough for the next amazing Harry Styles album?” She jokes, nudging his shoulder again. He laughs at this, his cheeks warming up at the compliment.

“Well, some songs don’t end up in the album anyway. This is probably for fun.” He tells her as he sips on his coffee. She nods at him and gestures to the book again. “May I?”

He nods and gives her his book without a question. He trusts her and her judgement enough and really cares about her opinion on whether a song is good. Her eyes skim over the words written on the pages and she even turns to the other pages to what else he’s written down.

“These songs are amazing, Harry.” She tells him, smiling as she reads the lyrics. Harry blushes at the compliment. He’s had many people compliment his songwriting, from his mother to his band to the fans he meets; but there is something about knowing it’s good in her eyes that makes him feel proud of his songwriting abilities.

Maybe it’s because he’s whipped for her. It’s a good thing she won’t know that most of the songs he’s written for this album were inspired by her; that’d save him from a bit of embarrassment.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he says, taking back the book and setting it on the piano.

“So, which one is about me?”

“What?” His eyes are suddenly wide open as he looks at her with a panicked expression.

She stares at him for a minute before giggling. “I’m kidding! Gosh, should’ve seen the look on your face. That was gold,” she stifles in her laughter at him. He huffs, rolling his eyes at her as his cheeks are flaming up.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me, you little minx,” he says as he pokes on his side, making her squeal at the ticklish feeling.

The laughter in the room simmers down into comfortable silence. Harry looks over at her, his eyes running over her features, studying her. She seems to sense this because she looks up at him. They stare at each other in silence until she smiles at him, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Play something for me?” She mumbles. He grins and lays his head on top of hers. His fingers lay on the keys and he starts to play a familiar tune from one of his songs from his last album. The two sit together, listening to the sounds of the piano filling the room.

When the rest of the team comes back, Y/N’s father is looking around for her. He knew she somehow stayed behind to keep Harry some company. He doesn’t think too much of it; he’s seen the way they both interacted and he was more than glad they got along. Maybe a little too much.

He somehow could sense a mutual liking between the two. It was sweet to be fair. It was like seeing his little girl talking to a guy she likes in school all over again. He’s not one to be a strict parent; all he wants is to look after her. There were too many guys in the industry who’d try to take advantage of her because of him, which is why he would always get cautious of them.

But he sees the way Harry and Y/N look at each other like they’re the only ones in the room. For a moment, he begins to think that maybe this is the guy for her. Someone who genuinely likes her and would sometimes go out of his way to spend time with her, even if it wasn’t work-related. Harry is generally a respectable man, but it truly warms his heart to see the way he treats Y/N the way he knows she deserves to be treated.

Then, he stumbles upon the two in the same studio room Harry said he would be. He sees the two sitting close to each other as Harry plays the piano. Occasionally, they would both giggle at each other for reasons he’s sure it’s something between just them. He stands by the door for a while as he watches them, a smile graces on his face. He sees the smiles and happiness radiating on their faces.

And he thinks to himself that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the session for the day ends, Harry and everyone else are ready to pack it up and go home. As he puts his water bottle and journal into his tote bag, he steals a few glances at Y/N in which she returns, leaving both of their faces flushing in warmth. He approaches her nervously while she plays around with her fingers.

“Um,” he starts. “Thanks for today.” She chuckles at his words and shakes her head.

“I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome,” she jokes. They both let out a laugh.

“Well, uh, take care,” he says and she gives him a small smile. She was hoping he’d say more but she doesn’t push it. “You too,” she points out.

He nods as he slowly walks backwards to the door. He stops in his tracks for a moment before opening his mouth again. “I, uh,” he begins again and she waits for his next words nervously. “I’ll see you in the next session, yeah?”

Her heart deflates a bit but she hides her tiny disappointment with a smile. “Definitely, Harry.”

They awkwardly bid each other goodbye before parting their ways. Unbeknownst to them, her father watched the whole scene and he shakes his head at the silly adults.

He calls for Y/N and tells her to sit with him for a minute. “Yeah, dad?” She questions him as she sits on the couch. “Want to tell me why you and Styles look like nervous teenagers, wishing the other would ask them on a date?”

Y/N is shocked to say the least as she stumbles on her words and tries to pretend she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He chuckles at his daughter’s act. “Think you should put him out of his misery and let him ask you out. Or better yet, you should ask him out.”

“But dad, what about you?”

He cocks an eyebrow at her question. “What about me, sweetie?”

She chews on her bottom lip gently before speaking. “It’s just, I know he has a lot of respect for you and he doesn’t want to make things weird if anything did happen between us. Plus, what if he’s like those other guys that try to kiss up to you through me? I really like him, dad.” She mumbles out the last part under her breath. Her father sees the slight dilemma his daughter has and shakes his head at her, smiling.

He lifts her chin up so she could look at you. “I know he’s not one of those guys. While the rest of those boys can try and fool me, he’s a man with a lot of heart and respect towards others. And I can tell you that he really likes you too. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Don’t think you guys are so slick with that.”

Y/N giggles at her father’s words. “Thanks, dad,” she tells him, kissing his hand and holding it tightly. It somehow reminds him of the first time her tiny baby hands tried to hold his hand. It makes him choke up, knowing his little girl isn’t so little anymore.

But if it’s Harry who’d be the man that’ll make her happy, then he’s completely fine with that.

He kisses her head lovingly and pats her shoulder. “Now, you better go after him before you come home sulking because you didn’t catch him. I’ll go wait in the car for you,” he suggests. Y/N’s face beams with joy as she stands and runs out of the room.

The sun is setting by the time she reaches the front door of the studio building. She looks around to see if Harry has left yet. She doesn’t see him and she starts to frown at this. She’s about to sulk on her way to her father before she hears a familiar deep voice calling her name.

“Y/N?” She turns around and grins as she sees Harry walking over to her.

“Hey! You’re still here,” she beams at him. Harry smiles at her, noting how adorable she looks. “Yeah, had a chat with Mitch and Sarah before they left.” He points behind him for her to see their car driving past them, honking at them as if to say goodbye.

“Anyways, you alright? Saw you ran out here,” he asks concerned. It truly makes her heart flutter knowing how much he even cares. Not to mention, he’s a very handsome and beautiful young man, especially under the golden hour lighting they’re getting.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you something,” she tells him. She’s playing with her fingers, something she does when she’s nervous. He hums in response.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” She rushes out her words.

But Harry hears her clear enough. He’s surprised at first. He always thought he’d ask her out but she beat him to it. He lets it sink in; the fact that the girl he really likes, likes him back and wants to go on a date with him.

A smile breaks out onto his face and he nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’d love to!” He exclaims.

Y/N lets out a breath of relief as she hears this. “Really?”

“Really! I really like you, Y/N. Been meaning to ask you out but I guess you beat me to it,” he chuckles as he steps closer to her. His hands reach out to grab her hands and she lets him, liking the warmth he gives.

“I really like you too,” she smiles at him. He grins as his eyes run over her face, loving how pretty she looks with the sunlight hitting her complexion.

She’s not sure whether it’s too soon to kiss him but he slowly leans in, as if he’s waiting to see if she’ll reject him. But she doesn’t and immediately leans into him, letting lips finally touch.

She feels him smile into the kiss, their lips move in sync. She breathes in his scent of cologne he wears through her nose and tastes the sweetness of his lips. The feeling they both get is almost overriding their senses and all they can think of is each other.

They break away as they catch their breath. Harry sneakily leans in again to steal a peck which makes her giggle. They’re smiling so hard that their cheeks are starting to hurt.

“That was nice,” he grins at her. She nods as she looks at him with dazed eyes.

“I should probably head back now,” she points out behind her. Harry nods understandingly. “I’ll call you later, alright? Let me know when you and your dad get home safe,” he says, his thumb stroking over her knuckles gently.

She nods in agreement. “Goodnight, Harry,” she bids him.

“Goodnight, darling,” he gently says back.

They don’t move apart from each other until Harry leans in again. “One more kiss,” he mumbles as his lips press against hers. She doesn’t object as she moans lightly at the feeling of his lips again. They break away, giggling as they bid each other goodnight again.

As soon as they part away, Y/N waits until she sees him getting in his car before squealing in delight as she skips back to her car. While this happens, Harry is shouting in his car, letting it sink in that he finally has the girl who inspired most of the songs he wrote for his new album.

[forever-rogue]

Amazing thank you for considering my request! It’s an Oberyn x reader fic, where they are married but she had been kidnapped and presumed dead till one day he finds her in kings landing as a servant and prisoner to Cersi and the Lannister’s. Then he does whatever it takes to get her back and the rest is up to you! Whatever you want to do I’m fine with.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn sighed as he sat near the fountains in the lush gardens of his Dornish palace. He played aimlessly with a berry in his hand, plucked from the overflowing bowl that had been placed by him.They didn’t taste as sweet as they used to. It was a solemn day for him, and everyone around him knew to stay away and weary of the Prince.

It was your name day today. Your third one since you'd been taken from his clutches. 

He still thought of you every single day. Oberyn had searched far and wide, scouring every part of the Seven Kingdoms for you, but he'd never found you again. It seemed like every time he got close or some sort of lead as to where you were everything was ripped away again. It was like you keep slipping through his fingers. 

The Prince had been through a torrent of emotions, but at the end of it all, he just missed you. He would have given up again to have you back, even after all this time. Things had never been the same.

»»————-　♡　————-««

A yawn escaped your lips as you tended to the laundry of the royal household. You'd been up since before dawn tending to duties around the Red Keep, and your body was screaming for a nap. But there was no rest for anyone on the small staff and Cersei ensured that you would never be able to have a moment of rest.

It was her, after all, that had ruined your life several years ago when she'd found you at a vulnerable moment and taken you away from Oberyn and Dorne. There had never really been any real reason either - she just had a particular disdain for the prince and would do anything to hurt him as much as possible. 

And that had turned into kidnapping and keeping you hostage and in servitude at the Red Keep under a false alias. At first you'd tried to fight, tried to resist, and even run away but you'd never even gotten close. The times you did, or tried to defy her, you were met with grueling and torturous punishments. At some point your heart and spirit had broken, and your body seemed permanently bruised and aching.

You still held out hope that one day you'd see Oberyn again. That one day you would be reunited with your love, in this life of another. 

But days like today, your name day, made it hard to keep that hope alive. No one even remembered what day it was - once it had been filled with nothing but love and celebration. Now it was a long day of work, from dawn till dusk and beyond.

"Hey, girl," you cringed at the sound of Cersei's voice. She knew your name but refused to address you by it, "there's more work for you to do. The Prince and his retinue have decided to come for a visit to King's Landing for some round-table discussions. We must prepare. You remember him, right? Of course you do...I doubt you'd forget your husband just like that."

Your shoulders rose and fell with effort as you tried to keep your composure. She was doing this on purpose, every word picked carefully to cause you to suffer. She wanted you to lash out to yell at her so she could get mad back and use it as an excuse for punishment. 

And you were tempted, so tempted, to give her a piece of your mind. But you stopped yourself and continued on with your laundry, scrubbing at it as thoroughly as possible. You were not going to give her the satisfaction. You were not going to give her the time of day on your name day.

Instead you tried to conjure up all the happy memories you could, remembering how Oberyn would always go all out on your name day, how he would throw such lavish celebrations and shower in you in love and affection. But not today. Not anymore. But the ghosts of days gone were enough to get you by.

You remained silent, only offering a nod in acknowledgment and eventually she left after informing you of all the things that would need to be done.

Maybe...just maybe you'd get to see your love one last time.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Naturally, the entirety of the Red Keep was buzzing with the arrival of the Dornish Prince, along with other lords from around Westeros; Oberyn was always the star of the show however. When he arrived at the castle, you tried looking everywhere for him, hoping for even a glimpse of his handsome face. Even if you weren’t able to talk to him, you wanted one look - one moment to make sure he was alive and well. 

But Cersei, ever the vile and repugnant pseudo-queen, made sure to give you tasks that kept you far, far away from him. She let you get so close, so close to a momentary reunion with your husband before preventing you from seeing him at all. It was hopeless, and the little bit of spark you had left in your soul seemed to dissipate. At one point you were almost positive that you had heard his laughter; a beautiful, warm sound. 

You let the memories of those beautiful sounds, how often you heard softly in your ear when you were alone with your husband, get you through it all. You’d resigned yourself to not seeing him going. 

But then one evening, you were working late in the kitchens, preparing things for the next day when you were a throat clear from the entrance. Rolling your eyes to yourself, ready to be fully annoyed, you tried and almost stopped breathing when you spotted Oberyn standing there and watching you closely. Your mouth opened and closed your mouth a few times, hardly able to believe your eyes - there he was, your husband, alive and in the flesh. 

“Pardon the interruption,” he sauntered in, robes swirling behind him as he approached you, “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had any spare berries or other fruit.”

“O-Oberyn,” your voice cracked as he walked over to him as well, leaving only a small gap between the two of you. His soft, dark eyes studied you intently and you could tell he was processing something. What if...what if he didn’t remember you? But no...he would never forget you, right?”

“Yes,” he laughed lightly, “that’s generally what they call me. I-I’m sorry to be so bold and forward, but you look just like my wife used to.”

“Oberyn,” your lips trembled as you felt the back of your eyes prickle with tears,”i-i-it’s me. It’s me, I swear it, I would never lie to you.”

“I have looked for my wife far and wide for going on three years and have never been able to find her,” he whispered as his voice cracked, “it would be the most cruel joke to play on someone if you did not mean it. P-please tell me you’re not lying - please tell me the gods are not so cruel as to play such a joke on me.”

“My moon and stars,” as soon as the words left your lips, emotion overwhelmed him as his lips trembled with emotion, “it is me, I swear it - your sunshine. Please tell me how I can prove it to you.”

“Tell me the first thing you ever said to me when we met,” his heart was racing with nerves as he tried not to get too ahead of himself, “when I approached you.”

A few years had rolled down your cheeks as you laughed lightly at the memory. Needless to say, when you were first introduced, you had never envisioned yourself loving or marrying him at any point, “you came up to me with so much swagger and you told me your name and then you said although I’m sure you already know who I am. I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to make a proper introduction in my chambers this evening. You had so much confidence, so much nerve. You were so bold and brash, and yet...I did not turn you down.”

“You did slap me though,” he reminded you as nodded in laughter. As soon as the words had left his lips you had slapped him across the face, surprising both of you. You’d spent that first night, and countless others in his bed, “you always were something else.”

“Oberyn,” you reached up, almost hesitant as you longed to touch his cheek. He did you one better and almost instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as possibly against this body, afraid to ever let you go again. A sob wracked your body as held onto him and buried your face into his chest, “Oberyn, my love. I never thought I’d see you again. I hoped and I hoped and I just never knew. “

“I have never stopped looking for you,” he promised as he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “I never gave up the hope that one day I would find you. I just never expected it to be like this.”

“You found me,” you pulled back and stared at him with wide doe eyes, hardly believing that you were looking into the face of your husband. After all this time, he was still exactly the same as always and gods - you had missed him so much, “I hoped and hoped and hoped that one day I would get to look upon your face again.”

“I will always find you,” he whispered as he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “in this life or the next or the one after that. Our souls belong together - I knew few things in life, but this I know.”

“I love you beyond what words could ever describe, my moon and stars,” after all this time, you were still just as in love with him as you had ever been. It was like no time had passed at all, “I’ve been here this entire time. The wretched woman took me - and for what? To make us both suffer all because she cannot stand us and our family. We have what she never will - what she can only dream of - love. True love. Every single day without you has been a cruel sort of torture on its own. I dreamed of you often, and thought of you every day, it was the only thing that got me through the day. My dreams came true.”

“As have mine, my sweetest sunshine,” your prince gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A soft sigh escaped your lips at the intimate gesture, “I will bring you back home with me, I swear it. Back to Dorne - our home, where you belong at my side.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words, to go back home for so long,” the images of your golden home in the sun kissed land of Dorne flooded your mind, and a warmth spread throughout your body; home. It was so close, “please don’t leave me here, Oberyn. I cannot bear it another moment, especially now that I know you are alive and well.”

“I will do whatever it takes to bring you home,” there was a searing intensity to his promise as you just nodded at him, already feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders, “we will never be apart again. Go to your chambers and gather anything you have that you might want to bring home with us.”

“It should be but a few moments,” you knew there was just about nothing you desired to bring back; there were a few pieces of jewelry that you’d managed to hide away. One was a beautiful necklace Oberyn had gifted you on a name day shortly after your marriage, along with a set of moon and star rings, “where shall I meet you?”

“Meet me at the gates to the castle,” he instructed as you nodded, “I’ll have Jeron meet you there to protect you. I’ll let them know we are to return to Dorne at once - and that’s after I give the lion queen a piece of my mind.”

“Please be careful, my love,” you were ready to beg him if necessary, afraid that you were going to lose him again, “and hurry.”

“I will see you soon,” he pressed a hurried kiss to your lips as he almost ran in the direction of Cersei’s chambers, “my sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn was many things, including rash and stubborn; he’d calmed down over the years, mellowed out with age, but today he saw nothing but blood and fire. The Red Viper didn’t bother to knock on the vicious queen’s doors before barging in. For once there were no guards surrounding her chambers, whether luck or sheer coincidence he didn’t know - or care. 

Cersei let out a small shriek of surprise as she looked up from the looking glass atop her vanity. A deep frown formed on her face as she realized it was Oberyn, but before long it turned into a look of sheer, disgusting joy. She knew immediately that he had discovered her wretched secret, “my, my, my. What a most pleasant surprise, from my favorite Dornish Prince.”

“I could - should - kill you for what you have done,” he was seething with rage as his hands flitted to his waist belt and he traced over the dagger at his side. It would have been so easy, so quick to just kill her then and there. He should have done it; gods knew he wanted to. But he stayed his blade, as much as it pained him to do so. But he knew if he did, the consequences would have been much more grave. As such he pushed down his anger and decided to channel the rage into words, “you are the most vile, wretched woman in these Seven Kindgoms, if not the entirety of the world. How dare you try something like - stealing my wife from me for three years. It took me longer than I cared for to find her, but I never would have stopped looking.”

“Consider it a fun little game,” her little smirk was enough to make him reconsider his choice, “and now you’ve won. You can have your pathetic little wife and take her back to that savage land you call home.”

“You dare to speak to me like this,” he approached her, the dagger slipping out of its holster as he clutched it tightly in his hand. Cersei gave him a s sickly sweet smile and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her long golden hair in a firm grip, and placing the dagger against her throat. It took her by such surprise that she didn’t have time to react, “you are nothing, Cersei Lannister. Even less than the fleas that live on stray dogs. You will never be a true queen - you are an imposter, a fake. One day everyone will see you for what you are worth, and it will be your undoing. You will be your own biggest downfall and it will be my pleasure to watch your demise.”

“You won’t kill me,” she breathed quietly, feeling the pressure of the knife against her throat. He sighed heavily but made a small sound of agreement. 

“You’re right,” he confirmed, “I will dream about it though. I will not be your executioner  - that would be a fate much too kind. The death you deserve is far worse than anything I could ever deliver. But let me make one thing extremely clear - if you ever come near my wife, or any of my family ever again, I will not hesitate. This is your one and only warning. She has lost three years of her life because of her twisted little game, and I will not stand for it. You stay out of Dorne and our affairs, and we will stay far from here.”

“You’re weak - a fool,” she insisted with a snarl, “love has made you soft. The Red Viper? What a joke.”

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, “love does not make one weak - it makes them stronger. It is everything. How pathetic and sad that you will never know that.”

Before she could say anything else, he pressed the sharp valiaryn steel against her tender skin and nicked it just enough to draw blood; not enough to do any permanent damage, but enough to leave a lasting impression. As soon as he pushed her away, she clutched at her throat and drew in a ragged breath. 

Oberyn stormed out of her chambers as he almost sprinted back to meet you at the entrance to the castle. Despite knowing in his heart that you would be there, he was still nervous for a moment. Until he saw you standing there and waiting, chatting quietly with Jeron, his most trusted companion. His heart melted at the sight; he felt more complete - whole - again. 

When you heard him, you turned and offered him the sweetest smile; the same one he had fallen in love with. He rushed to your side as you held open your arms to him and he almost knocked you over in excitement, “my love.”

“Come on, my sweetest girl,” he held you tightly against his chest, “it’s time to go home. Finally. And we are never, ever coming back here again.”

“I love you so much, Oberyn,” you whispered against his lips, “thank you for saving me.”

“Always,” he whispered softly, “I will always find you. I love you more than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[will80sbyers]

Hi, here’s ask for you

How do you think Will would react when he finds out that Mike is in love with him?

How do you think Mike would react when he finds out that Will is in love with him? (If Mike isn’t in love with him)

How do you think will felt after "it's not my fault you don't like girls"?

How and when do you think Will found out that he loves Mike and how did he react to his own feelings?

What future do you think Will likes to envision for himself and Mike? (If Mike loved/loves him back)

How do you think Will was feeling at the snowball?

Do you think Will knows that Jonathan knows about him?

What do you think Will imagines in the situation if someone finds out that he is gay?

1) I think Will will not believe it at first... until Mike makes it really really clear for him lol

2) If for some reason Mike ends up being straight (impossible) I don't think he will be homophobic about it, I think they will talk and he will be heartbroken too because he just broke his best friend's heart and he can't do anything about it really... but he will accept Will and tell him that he loves him as his best friend no matter what

3) I think Will felt deeply hurt at first then he understood what Mike was really saying... but I also think he thought Mike basically knew he was gay and was saying that because of it(I don't think Mike knows) and that it meant that Mike was completely straight!

after Mike kept talking I think Will understands that he meant that they "had to grow up" and wasn't trying to be homophobic.... but he felt heartbroken because he thinks that he doesn't have any chance of being with Mike and that his love will be always unrequited

he was also feeling angry at the fact that he is gay and THINKS he can't/will not experience requited love and has to keep hiding a big part of himself, he was angry at the world for being like it is and hating him just because he likes boys instead of girls, he was feeling deep deep sadness and despair for a multitude of things, he also felt stupid for loving Mike when it's clear to him that he loves Eleven...

4) I think Will found out that he liked/loved Mike before season 1 and I think he just thought that everyone was right and he was a freak, I think he probably just cried in his room for a bit but then got himself together and kept going because Mike made him feel like it was not wrong to be different and Jonathan helped him to start to feel like maybe being a freak wasn't a bad thing... his feelings for Mike just started growing and growing with time and in s3 he was completely in love in the true sense of it, not a childhood love but true love based on deep knowledge of the person you love...

5) I don't think he exactly ever envisioned a future for them as something more than friends, I think Will is still deeply scared of confessing his feelings for Mike, when he was little he just wanted to stay with Mike in any way he could and he still thinks this in s4... I think he starts to wish it could be something more in s4 because he moves to Lenora in California where it's a more open reality... also he's older... but he still thinks Mike is straight... maybe he daydreams about "crazy" things like being in Eleven's place and holding Mike's hand and kissing him but he doesn't think it's something possible for him... he doesn't think that they could ever go live together one day or get married etc... but he is so in love with Mike that he doesn't want to even consider the possibility of finding another queer boy and being with someone else, it's Mike or nothing for Will 💔

6) I think Will was feeling sad and probably jealous of seeing Mike dancing with El and kissing... I think he went home that night and cried before falling asleep

7) Will knows that Jonathan knows about him after the speech they had in s4, he was overwhelmed by it because he understood that Jon knew and loved him the same

8) I think he is scared of that possibility, rightly so.. because it wasn't a fun time to be queer... it still is not a fun time to be queer today, we still have to fear a simple thing like holding hands in public because we could run into people that hate us and want to kill us just for loving someone and being ourselves... Will doesn't know how people will react and that is scary

Thank you for the questions!! 💗

[mxtantrights]

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said. 

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously. 

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you. 

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

-

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom. 

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room. 

“A really big box.” 

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit. 

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that. 

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss. 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in. 

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.” 

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.” 

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you. 

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

-

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.” 

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you. 

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.” 

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

- 

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable. 

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him. 

“Shut it Todd.”

-

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway. 

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.” 

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful. 

You closed the door and turned the lock. 

-

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?” 

“Nyssa.” 

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?” 

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

-

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you. 

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.” 

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 35

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: i wanted to wait until tomorrow to post this but i have no self control. as promised, here’s some fluff. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

     - We’re getting married. - she smiled at him, one of those sunny smiles that always made him feel like he was way too lucky to be marrying someone like her. Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, his hand caressing her the side of her waist as that sunny smile morphed into playful one. - You do have to leave this bedroom to get married though. 

     - But the bedroom is an important part of our marriage, princess.

     - No. You shouldn’t be even seeing me on our wedding day. It’s bad luck, besides Steve, Sam and Sharon are outside. - she played with the hair in the back of his neck. 

The super soldier playfully rolled his eyes at her answer. He hadn’t even had time to buy her an engagement ring or even tell anyone other than her parents and Steve, yet he guessed Sam and Sharon now knew it too, and yet the two of them were going to get married. Her family wasn’t here and it definitely wasn’t what he thought it’d be when he was younger. He’d pictured a much more traditional wedding, maybe somehow in the middle of war and he’d marry in his uniform with his family and hers surrounding them in a small little church yet, she was right. There weren’t a lot of things that were normal about them but she loved him and he loved her. That was the basis of marriage after all. 

His finger traced her jaw, feeling her features under the calloused texture of his fingers, the same features he hadn’t seen in two weeks and had barely seen yesterday. He examined everything, almost if he wasn’t going to see her again, yet that was mostly his mind screaming at him about the restraining order they could order. His eyes, however landed on almost fresh bruises at her lower neck. 

    - Princess, what this? - his fingers slightly lingered over her bruises. 

    - Oh ... - her gaze moved down before it moved up. - Stunt gone wrong while filming, it’s nothing major really.

    - Seems like something major, princess. It’s looks pretty bad. Did no one do anything?

   - It looks just like your bruise does. - she kissed his cheekbone. - Let’s go before Steve, Sam and Sharon resort to hearing behind the door.

He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t really say anything more about it so he dropped it, for now. The two of them left the bedroom and walked into the living area where Steve, Sam and Sharon were still sat in. 

   - So ... - Bucky started. - How do we do this? 

   - A wedding? - Sharon questioned. - We get an officiant, a marriage license, and make sure no one but us know about it. 

   - Oh Chuck has to know about it. He’s my only friend here and I’d like him to be present. 

   - Okay but we can’t do it here. - Steve added. - It’s most likely under surveillance and if they even dream you two are getting married, Bucky’s going right back to prison.

   - What do you suggest? - Y/N cocked her head to the side.

   - Me and Buck will get rings, Sam will get the marriage certificate and the officiant and Sharon will stay here with you. We’ll all meet at the HQ in an hour. 

   - You’ll be okay? - Bucky mumbled over to Y/N who nodded. - I’ll see you in an hour, okay?

   - I’ll be the one in white. Or at least something white. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head before leaving with Steve and Sam leaving her with Sharon. Of course like most girls she had pictured the eve of her wedding, even the hours before, what it would be like, who would be by her side, where it’d be. She had to admit it was very different from what she had envisioned but it was okay. Better have an odd wedding with the right person than the best wedding with the wrong one and she knew Bucky was the one. She felt it whenever he looked at her or whenever he’d fall asleep on her shoulder after telling her he wouldn’t. Her parents were right and so were the movies, when you know you know. 

She knew. 

    - I have to message Chuck. Maybe he can pass by my apartment and grab me something white. - she took her phone from her pocket to text Chuck.

    - Something new, something blue, something old, something borrowed. Luckily for you, I have your something new. 

Y/N furrowed her brows at Sharon as the blonde spy made her way inside her shared bedroom with Bucky. Y/N watching with confusion as she opened the small closet which was still a mess with packed boxes from both Bucky and Y/N which both of them kept putting off unpacking. Sharon moved some boxes and small trinkets off her way and pulled out a white big short rectangular box before putting it on top of the still yet to be made bed. 

The actress approached the edge of the bed as Sharon pulled the lid off and removed some packing paper from the top of whatever was laying inside. She quickly recognised what was inside of it, somehow through her prosecco influenced mind that night she could still remember what her favourite dress looked like. Her eyes looked up to Sharon’s before looking again at the dress, taking it from the box and holding it in front off her. 

     - When did you get this? No ... scratch that, when did you hide it in my flat?

     - Same night we got it. I’m prone to shop lifting when drunk. Besides there’s more than 5 thousand dresses in that shop, she won’t know. - Sharon shrugged, a proud smile on her lips. - You’re not gonna get married in a used white dress. You’re already not gonna have a big ceremony so you should at least have a wedding dress.

     - What if I get arrested? It’s illegal. 

     - It’s the least illegal thing I’ve done, besides, she won’t know and we can return it in the end if it makes you feel better.

     - It’s so pretty. - Y/N held the dress against her chest, almost hugging the fabric. - You’ll be my maid of honour right? I don’t have a lot of female friends here yet. 

     - Sure. Now, we have an hour to do preparation and hen’s night all together.

     - It’ll be okay, right? With Bucky ... they won’t hurt him because of me, right?

     - Don’t concern yourself with that now. It’s your day, no matter how little it is. Whatever comes after that, me, Steve, Sam will be there for you two. You’re family. 

     - I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. - Y/N dragged whatever tears were trying to spill out of her eyes with her knuckles. - I don’t want to be the reason he’s not free and he keeps telling me it’s fine but ... I love him so much and it broke my heart to see him handcuffed because of me when he’s been always there. 

     - Hey ... - Sharon patted the side of the bed next to her, waiting for Y/N to sit by her side. - No relationship is easy. I mean maybe most relationships don’t have the downsides yours has but you have something that only a small part of them have.

     - A huge age gap?

     - Hey, I have that too. - Sharon laughed before rolling her eyes. - Unconditional love. Trust me, it’s not easy for someone who is not in my “line of work” to understand what happened to Bucky and he isn’t one to open up easily. And you just love him and he just loves you. That’s all it matters at the end, that you love each other hard enough you will hold each other’s hands through the worse of storms. Not everyone has a hand to hold in their darkest moments and when you do, and when you know, those monsters become folklore. 

   - Wow, Sharon. If super heroing does not pan out for you, you should become a poet. - Y/N leaned her head against Sharon’s shoulder. - Well, if they don’t handcuff my fiance during the wedding, I don’t think it can get any worse. 

   - Good. Now hop onto the shower and only come up when you smell like a baked good. Exfoliate everything. 

   - Wait, what about something blue? I have something old ... and something new and ... somehow borrowed. What about something blue? 

   - You have Bucky. 

   - I have to be in something blue. 

   - Well, Bucky will be in you later tonight, I’m sure. Just get in the shower, Y/N. The clock is ticking. 

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror, old army suit on and somehow still fitting even with the metal arm. To be honest, Bucky was more surprised that a more than 70 year old suit hadn’t been made into a ball of threads and dust yet there it was looking exactly as it did when he first got it. He straightened his back and the lapels of his jacket, looking up only to return to a slouched position as the light hit the metal of his arm. James Buchanan Barnes was not the same man he was 70 years ago yet he was doing the thing which was expected of him back in his day. Now ... now she just had to show up and he hoped she did. All he wanted right now was to see her walk whatever path she was gonna walk, as long as she met him at the end. 

He straightened the lapels of his jacket once again, trying to appear as confident as he used to be back then. His rushing mindset was interrupted by a knock on his door.

   - Steve, not again. I’m still here and I’m fine. - he barked at the door.  

   - It’s not Steve. - his sister opened the door. 

   - Becca? - he abandoned the mirror to go to his sister. - What are you doing here? Is everything all right?

   - I would’ve preferred you telling me you were engaged and getting married today rather than one of your bride’s friends, I think his name is Chuck. - she crossed her arms, that childhood smile that she still remained making her way across her lips. - You think I’d let my big brother marry without me to see it? It took a long time but here we are. 

   - Yeah, getting married in the Avengers’ HQ. How romantic. 

   - Mum would be so happy. - she started to straighten up his tie. - She always said she wanted you to marry a nice girl and seems like you found one. Although, I was expecting you’d propose to her with mum’s ring. I guess you could give it to her for her birthday or something.

   - She doesn’t even have a ring. - he sat down on his old bed. - I feel like she might not even show up.

   - I’m sure that if she didn’t run away when she saw your baby photos, she won’t run away now. 

   - Bucky, five minutes. - Steve poked his head into his old bedroom. - Let’s make a move before the bride is there before you are.

Steve and Sam had decided it would be best to hold the wedding in the inner private garden where no one but the Avengers or people with an access pass could come into. No media, no police, nothing. Bucky did remember that garden, the one with the cherry blossom tree which was somehow always on bloom. Genetically engineered, Bruce had told him, whatever that meant. All he knew was that it was pretty, it was pretty enough for her to get married in with the flowers standing over where whom he guessed was the officiant and the petals which would fall with the wind, laying on the ground.

  - Dude, you’re not taking the photos. 

  - Sam, I am the best man, it is my duty.

  - You can barely use a phone. - Sam retorted. - Remember the last photos from yours and Sharon’s vacation?

  - C’mon Sam, we all loved to see Steve’s thumb in all of them. 

  - Fine, I guess I’ll just stay here and do nothing. - Steve stood by Bucky’s right next to Sam and his sister.

Time went slowly even when Sam told him Sharon was already in the building. Despite that, his mind still told him she wasn’t going to come. No one in their right state of mind would marry a super soldier, much less him. Definitely not him, he did not deserve this. He did not deserve this. Yet, she stood there at the end of the makeshift aisle with Sharon and Chuck by her side. 

He’d definitely heard many stories from many men and women about how they felt when they first say their loved ones on their wedding date but he never thought about how it would felt. It felt as if he could only see her, everything was blurred and blacked out and all he could see was her approaching him with a wedding gown and veil holding a few white flowers tied together with a white string. He definitely did not deserve her yet there she was. She was there and she took his hand standing by his side, looking more radiant, more beautiful, more ... god words failed, yet all he could say was he felt like he was floating. He was sure in that moment he had to be standing next to an angel. 

Y/N handed her flowers to Sharon before turning with Bucky to stare at the officiant. 

    - Welcome, friends, family and loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two people in marriage. You have come here to share in this commitment they are making to one another and allow James and Y/N to start their married life surrounded by those who care and love them. Marriage is perhaps one of life’s great adventures, one where you chose someone who will see it through with you to the end and support you during your darkest and brightest times. A wedding ceremony is not what makes a marriage but merely a celebration of the choice you have made to support and love each other. This is merely the start of the life you two will carve together. Will you James take this woman to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?

   - Absolutely. - he turned to look at her, holding her hands in his, 

   - Will you Y/N take this man to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?

   - Absolutely. - she giggled a bit. 

   - I have been told the bride and groom have chosen to say their vows in private so we will skip to the rings. Rings are nothing of importance and have no importance unless you give them value. Your wedding rings are a reminder and will be a reminder of the choice you made here today, a choice which is never ending. That’s why the ring is a circle, it’s never ending. - Steve handed Bucky one of the rings they had picked up in a rush from the jewellery shop downtown and Y/N the other one. - James, please place the ring on Y/N’s left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.

   - As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - he slide the ring on her finger, thanking heaven he’d gotten the right size. 

   - Y/N, please place the ring on James’ left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.

   - As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - she slide the ring onto his finger. 

   - And now by the power vested in me by the state of New York, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. You may now kiss the bride. 

Y/N gave him a little smile, nose scrunching as it did whenever she smiled out of shyness before he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t long, it was a short and sweet. He knew the two of them had little time and would have to be back in the flat the sooner as possible but it was still a kiss. Their first kiss as a married couple. The two broke the kiss as the clapping became just too loud to ignore and she merely leaned her head against his shoulder, holding his hand in hers as the people around them clapped. 

   - Good, back on the road. - Steve said taking the lead to exit the garden to which everyone followed, with Bucky and Y/N behind them.

   - You look beautiful. - he mumbled to her, kissing her cheek as Sharon and Steve lead them to the back of the HQ where a white van was parked. - Where did Sharon get a van?

   - She stole the van. 

   - I didn’t steal it, Y/N. I borrowed it. I will park it back where it was. - she said as she entered the drivers seat, Steve opening the back for Y/N and Bucky to get in so no one would see them. 

The two of them just sat in the back of the van in silence. Her head leaned against his shoulder during the whole trip as he merely basked in the fact that he was married. Not only married, but married to her, to the woman whose head was now leaning against his shoulder. She’d chosen him, she’d come. 

Sharon parked behind his apartment, bringing the van to a stop as Steve hopped off to open the door to the apartment complex and Sharon opened the back of the van. Bucky was the first one off, reaching out for Y/N’s hand to help her out. 

   - Have fun. - Sharon winked at Y/N. - And I am keeping your bouquet. Maybe someone will take a hint.

   - Congratulations, Buck. Y/N, you look beautiful, congratulations on dealing with him for a very long time. - Steve added. - I don’t know how long, but expect a few more hundred years.

   - I am okay with that. - she smiled at Steve. - Thank you for helping out.

   - We will see you in court.

   - See you in court. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head as the two of them walked inside the apartment, hand firmly clutching hers as the two of them walked up the stairs with her in a rather voluminous dress. She just looked so beautiful to him, he was love drunk on merely her voice but looking at her just made it all even more intense. Catching her little side looks, a small giggles she’d let out whenever he’d kiss her cheek or lips mid climbing the stairs up to the floor where his flat was. It was a tiring day and right them both of them just wanted to be with each other and celebrate witch each other.

As they stood in front of his flat’s entry door, Bucky picked her up bridal style as if they were in some cheesy sitcom, yet it was tradition. 

   - Bucky, what are you doing? - she giggled at him, her hand holding her veil against her head so it wouldn’t fall down.

   - I have to carry my bride over the threshold, that’s just how it works. - Bucky opened the door to his flat and entered the place the two of them already called home with his wife in his arms. He helped her back on her feet before closing the door. Finally, it was just the two of them. - You look so beautiful, princess. 

   - You’re making me flush, Buck. - she turned her head to her own shoulder, her shyness looking absolutely endearing to him. Yet, everything she did was endearing to him. 

   - It always looks really sweet, princess. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head and walked up to the old vinyl player he’d gotten as a gift from Steve a few years ago which laid on top of a mahogany dresser leaning against the wall of the biggest window on the living room. He fished through a basket of old records, placing one on the vinyl player before walking up to his wife who had a curious look in her sparkling eyes.

   - What are you doing, Bucky?

   - I’m not doing anything. - he took her hand in his, softly and carefully pulling her towards him. - I want to dance with my wife.

She leaned her head against his chest, listening to his heart softly beating against his ribcage. Everything was so peaceful and despite all that was lying in front off them, they were just focused on each other and the music which softly played in the background. Nothing really mattered in that moment, it was just the two of them, his head buried in her neck and her head against his chest, softly lulling to side, one hand on her small back while the other one held her hand. Fingers intertwined, new shiny copper coloured thin bands on their fourth finger of their left hands. 

Wise man say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay would it be a sin if I can’t help falling in love with you ...

    -  Bucky ... - she rose her head slightly up, not to disturb him. He moved his head to stare at her, bright blue eyes filled with calm seas. - I love you.

    - I know, princess. - he smiled, softly and slowly twirling her, before bringing her back to being flushed against his chest.

    - No, I don’t just love James Buchanan Barnes. I love all of you. - her free hand rested upon his chest, right over his heart. - I love what you’ve been, what you are and what you’ll be. I love you during your best times and during your worse times. I know you think you’re crazy and damaged but I don’t think you are. If I had gone through half you what’ve gone through, I wouldn’t be a good person after but you ... you decided to help other people, you’re kind, you’re warm. You have a golden heart, James Barnes, and I will always love it. No matter what happens. 

Bucky was taken aback by those words, almost as if he wasn’t expecting to hear them. Everything came back into flashbacks, a kaleidoscope of memories from seeing Steve in the train as he fell down, killing the Starks, almost killing Steve, the Zemo events and then it was just her. Seeing her for the first time in the preppy skirt and shirt, the little charming smile she had given him when she had interviewed him, hearing her sing for the first time, kissing her for the first time to seeing her walk down the aisle up to him just a few hours ago and he knew. Bucky knew he’d do it all over again, he’d go through all the pain, through all of what HYDRA did, through all of it as long as she’d be there at the end in her little cupcake shaped white wedding gown and shy smile. He’d do it over again. 

He’d do it over again for her. For her touch, for her embrace, for her smile and laughter. 

So take my hand, take my whole life too for I can’t help falling in love with you. Oh, I can’t help falling in love with you.

taglist: @disasterbi @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​

[azurevi]

Hello! I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a oneshot for Jade who is crushing on a fem!MC but MC doesnt believe him cuz she always feels like hes just doing this for some other reasons *cough* contract *cough*

Jade having a crush on fem!MC

I feel like this is kinda bad... because I suck at confessions lol, hope you like it though ^^

Jade is the same around anyone.

Polite smiles, gentlemanly gestures and well-calculated words. It's hard to understand him sometimes, considering how often he wears the same expressions. 

That's why there was no way he was interested in you. He treated you just like how he treated every other person. Even if he showed additional kindness, it was probably because of the contract you signed with Azul.

It was probably a bad choice to do business with Azul, but you had no choice. You had been in need for money, and Grim's constant desire for tuna cans was getting out of hand. It wasn't like you could leave him to starve, and you didn't really feel like leaving the campus to find part-time jobs. That was when Jade came in with the suggestion that you went to help in Mostro Lounge.

Jade was always offering help whenever he could, you noticed. Like teaching you topics you didn't understand and leading you to your destination because you were still unfamiliar with the place. You realized that it was probably out of guilt, after all the mess that happened in the Octavinelle dorm.

Back to the present, that explained why you were now bound to work by a contract. It wasn't that bad though, everyone was friendly and understanding even though you made mistakes sometimes.

"Y/N, do you need a break?" Jade walked towards you on your way towards the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm fine, there aren't that many customers for me anyways," you looked around and saw Floyd rushing back and forth to take orders. "For some reason, Floyd is working extra hard. I wonder why he's so energetic these days,"

"Well, that means you can work less, so it's not really a bad thing," he said casually. You knew that they were simply out of courtesy, but his words showed so much care that you felt happiness growing in your chest.

"I suppose so-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you were cut off by an annoyed Floyd stomping towards the two of you. "How can you two just stand here while I do all the work? This is so unfair!"

"Come on, Floyd. We had an agreement," Jade said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. You wondered what he meant.

Floyd looked insistent at first, but then he sighed and walked back to the customers, looking defeated.

"Well, I guess I'll find something to do too," you said, albeit still curious about what that was all about.

"Ah, right. Be careful then," Jade waved you off, seemingly a little disappointed that your chat ended so soon. 

--

"Why are you doing this anyways? It's not like she'll know," Floyd murmured as he cleaned the place with Jade. Everyone had already gone home, except for the twins and Azul, who was working in the VIP room.

"I simply don't want her to overwork himself,"

"So you're going to overwork me instead?"

"I'm not overworking you. I promised to get you the limited edition of the sneakers you want, didn't I?"

Floyd grunted, unable to retort. 

Working at Mostro Lounge could be stressful. The number of customers varied depending on the time, and it could be difficult for a newcomer like you to get used to. Not to mention that you were still a first year trying to adapt to this world.

"You know, Jade? I think you just like her,"

"What makes you say that?" Jade said, although his smile had already given him away..

"Everything? You treat her so nicely! I've never seen you so generous before,"

"Am I that evil in your eyes?" he laughed. "I guess I do find myself attracted to her,"

"I'm not sure if she feels the same way though. She seems to think that you're doing it out of respect,"

Jade didn't answer. 

Of course he noticed. No matter how much he did for you, you still couldn't seem to pick up the hint. He was already doing all he could, going out of his way just to delight you and show to you just how special you were to him, but all his efforts were futile.

That didn't seem to stop him though, if anything, his feelings even started to blossom because of the increased chances of seeing you. It was all so new and exciting to him, falling in love and experiencing all the conflicted emotions inside him.

"Why can't you just tell her?" Floyd asked. 

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do that,"

Floyd tapped his chin for a few times. "Just go up to her, give her some flowers and say anything that's on your mind!"

"Are you sure it's that simple?" Jade said. Floyd's suggestion wasn't half bad, but Jade had envisioned something more official. A bunch of flowers seemed so bland.

"If she really likes you back, I think she'll like whatever you give her," Floyd said before getting back to work, leaving Jade in his deep thoughts.

--

On a tiring day after school, you found Jade waiting outside your classroom, hoping to invite you to tea. You accepted right away, already anticipating hanging out with him.

Apparently he set up a nice table and some snacks in the botanical garden. The garden was warm and refreshing, with fragrances of flowers and plants enriching your senses. 

"What is the occasion?" you asked, settling down on the seat across Jade. He poured a crimson colored tea into your teacup, hiding a soft smile. You weren't sure you'd seen it before.

"I just wanted to enjoy your accompany," 

Your heart leapt to a great height, but you hid it behind the cup as you took a sip. The surprises kept coming as you tasted the sweet, warm tea in your mouth. 

"This tastes so good! What's it called?"

"I experimented on it a while back then. It's one of my favourites," Jade grinned, his mismatched eyes disappearing into slits. "I wanted you to be the first one to taste it. I thought it'd be a good opportunity for me to tell you something,"

"Yes?" 

There was silence for a while, and you could see what seemed to be nervousness on Jade's face before he spoke again. 

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You were glad you hadn't been sipping the tea, because you would've choked on it. 

"Go- go on a date with you?" Does he actually like you that way? Why hadn't you noticed before? Does he have a crush on you?

"Yes.. I understand that you might not have noticed, but I actually like you a lot," Jade basically just answered all the questions on your mind. "Will you give me a chance? I promise to take good care of you,"

"Of course!" you said ecstatically before clearing your throat, composing yourself. "I've always liked you too, you know? I just wasn't sure if you felt the same,"

"I guess I'll display more affection to you from now on," he said, lips arched in a small smile as he raised his cup of tea to it. It was useless though, as the blush on his cheeks were vividly visible. It was a Jade that you'd never seen, and a Jade that only you could see.

[obae-me]

The Demons Inside- Part 2

Part 1 (Lucifer)      Part 3 (Levi)

Description: Mammon’s Part of the request “The brothers reacting to an MC crying suddenly in front of them and then trying to act as if nothing happened”

Words: 2201

Mammon groaned, sinking down deep into the chair. He slumped down so far, his face was nearly eye level with the low table. How long had it been now? Two hours? Four? An entire night? The lecture his older brother was torturing him with was worse than being strung up on the ceiling. All of this over some dumb assignments. 

“Mammon, are you listening to me?” The deep grumble of Lucifer’s voice snapped him back up in place. The demon of pride continued briskly pacing back and forth, gesturing towards the strewn papers on his desk. Even just a flickering glance over the parchment would reveal how poorly they were done. Red marks, endless corrections, poor letter grades. Oh how he hated the study. Lucifer only ever brought him here of his own volition when he wanted to chew Mammon out in private. When his brother was angry with him, he wasn’t afraid to let the entire household and Devildom know it, but when he was disappointed? He was forced to have one on one time, listening to Lucifer scold him with something darker than anger in his eyes. 

“Yes, I’ve been listening to you prattle on for the past few hours now!” Mammon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

Lucifer’s eyelids lowered as he stopped pacing to look Mammon straight in the face. “Mammon, it’s only been twenty minutes.” With a wave of his hand, he brushed that irk aside, slightly impressed he used the word ‘prattle’. “Diavolo addressed me directly to confront you about this, Mammon. Do you understand the position you’re putting me in, the situation you’re putting yourself in?” The words were coming out of Lucifer’s mouth through gritted teeth. With one of his gloved hands, he plucked up a single assignment out of the many, showing it to his brother as if he didn’t already know what a failure it was. “Why can’t you just be like your brothers and get things done?” 

How many times had they been through this now? How many times would they go through this same song and dance as if Lucifer didn’t already know the answer. Why him? Of all his siblings, why him? He severely doubted his older brother dragged his brothers down to have an in depth talk about their sins. He knew none of them were as severely punished as he ever was. 

“Because I don’t want to! Why always me, eh? When was the last time you had Beel in here to talk about his eating habits?” He had almost had enough, he was out of his seat, hand on one hip, his teeth almost grinding together out of anger. Another push and he wouldn’t be able to control his form. The aura around him was already starting to thicken, the air getting hotter. 

“Diavolo doesn’t approach me directly about Beel’s habits, but he ordered me to talk to you!” Lucifer closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, his voice calmer. “Sometimes we do things we don’t want to do.” Lucifer normally wouldn’t have hesitated to always be towering above his brother. Typically, at this point, his wings would’ve been unfurled, his eyes glowing, his form large and intimidating. But for right now, he stayed in his normal image, the bags of exhaustion and worry unable to hide themselves under Lucifer’s eyes. The firstborn pressed both of his palms on the surface of his desk as he leaned forward. “I know it’s harder on you than the others. I know how hard you fight against your sin, but I know you have the strength to-” 

“Ah, don’t bring up that sorry line again, I’ve heard it enough.” Mammon looked his brother in the eyes before turning his back on him. “What’s the point? I’m outta here.” Mammon ran a hand through his hair to clear his vision. He had half a mind to keep his vision blurred with them, it was preferable to seeing his brother like this. It was better when he was angry. He hated it when it was...too real, too personal. 

Mammon turned to leave, and instead of Lucifer dragging him back to save his own pride, he only called out to him one more time, haughty plopping down in his chair. “I know you’re capable of it, Mammon. Get it done. You’re...dismissed.” 

“Tch.” 

* * * 

His skin still prickled with irritation, but he thought he had a plan that would best suit everyone. He knocked on the door, adjusting the many books and papers under his arm to prevent him from losing his grip. He had that typical golden Grimm-making smile on his face when the entrance swung open. The rush of air from within the bedroom flooded out the door, and he felt his body calm down with the scent and sight of MC. 

“Mammon?” MC rubbed their eyes, they hadn’t quite been to sleep yet, but it was very late in the night, and anytime now Lucifer would be doing his Light’s Out rounds. They were already in their pajamas, a pencil still lingering in their dominant hand. 

“I have a favor to ask of you, MC,” Mammon started, assuring himself that this would bring about the best outcome. Lucifer would get what he wanted, he would get what he wanted, and MC would get whatever they wanted for their efforts. He pulled out the large stack of books and papers from the crook of his arm, presenting them to MC. Their eyes went wide in a bit of shock, and MC braced themselves for the question they already knew. “Can you do my homework for me? It’s not too much, just a few essays, reports, multi-question assignments. You do this for me, and I’ll--get this--pay you for the work, eh?” 

“I-uh…” MC stuttered as Mammon practically shoved the books into their hands. He beamed at them, looking at them with hopeful pleading eyes. MC was always so nice, they never hesitated to extend a helping hand, and it was just what he needed. MC struggled to carry the books in their arms, maybe it had been more than he expected. “I…” 

“I’ll help carry these to your desk, what do you say?” He didn’t give them much of a chance to say anything regardless. He plucked the books back up, heading into their room while MC still struggled with words. The desk MC was using was already a mess, covered in stacks of tomes, multiple notebooks, and a plenty of assignments, more than should be assigned to one person. He raised an eyebrow as he placed his own books alongside the rest. He went to question them. “Oi, MC, what’re-” He swiveled his head to glance back at the human. 

They had their head down, hands covering their face as their shoulders shuddered. The hair on the back of Mammon’s neck immediately stood up on end, the heart in his chest felt like it sunk down to the floor. Without another word, he was at MC’s side. The room, for him, was almost moving around him in circles as he watched MC cry. He bent his knees and squatted down slightly so he could try to look at MC’s bowed face. He grabbed them by the shoulders, thumbs rubbing their skin in small circles. 

“Hey, hey, MC...listen you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It was a joke! Yeah, a joke!” He forced out a laugh. MC didn’t laugh with him. Emotional walls he kept surrounding were cracking. Tonight had not been his night. He quickly left MC, taking heavy but quick steps back to their desk. Stupid, he was stupid. He grabbed his books back, talking to MC while he gathered his work. “So, I’ll-uh-just take these back, and-” 

“No, wait.” He felt a hand touch his arm. MC tugged at the fabric of his sleeve. They were no longer crying, and for just a moment, Mammon wondered if he imagined the whole thing. Their eyes were a bit puffy, but already they had their usual smiles plastered over their lips. They were acting like nothing had happened. “I’ll do it. I’ll do your work.” They touched his hand and guided the stack back to the hard and cluttered surface. The gentle gesture caused his cheeks to go a bit red. Their actions were leaving him winded. Were they upset or not?

“I mean, if you want to.” With those words, Mammon saw MC’s lip twitch. As an avid and talented gambler, there was one form of body language that he was well acquainted with. Tells. Little physical involuntary forms of a lie. His eyes narrowed, and he took the time to actually get a closer look at all the work MC had. Assignments with MC’s handwriting but labeled with different names, multiple copies of the same book, even tasks from classes MC wasn’t even enrolled in. Nerves in his body jolted. His legs almost felt like shaking, what was he doing? Was he just another scummy demon dumping their work on a human? His human. What had he done? 

“I don’t mind, Mammon.” MC placed his stuff to the side, alongside all the other works MC had taken upon them. They adjusted a pile of parchment, the tip of their finger fiddling with one of the corners. Their somber look of recognition that someone else would be taking credit for their work. “If it makes you happy, I’ll do it.” He watched the muscles in their throat strain to say the words. They didn’t want to. They didn’t want to do this any more than he did, and they were doing three times the work.  

“And that’s what you want, huh? To do other people’s duties?” He found himself growling. MC looked up at him with mild shock. “So what happened, eh? Did they threaten you? Trick you?” He wanted to tear up everything on that desk, but he clenched his jaw and waited. 

MC shook their head slowly, their hair falling in front of tired eyes. “Nothing like that, they just asked. Just like you did.” 

Those words stabbed through him like a dull knife. He wanted to scream but the air in his lungs quickly went absent. He was finding it hard to breathe. “And you said yes? Why?” He took a few steps closer to them. He could feel their body heat, hear their ragged breaths. 

MC squirmed in place, their lip betraying them. They were going to cry again. “Well...just because.” For some reason the lecture he had been privy to earlier reverberated around in his brain. MC’s gaze flickered around the room, avoiding him. He envisioned Lucifer and himself, the tough love his brother had shown him. He scoffed and shut his eyes as he silently thanked his brother for all that he taught him. 

He gently took MC’s face in both of his hands and forced them to look at him. “Do you want to do it?” He knew the answer already, he just had to keep working on chipping away their stubborn wall. They continued to stammer, giving vague answers that avoided being a direct yes or no. “Do. You. Want. It?” He enunciated every word, wiping away a single tear that strolled down MC’s face. He was almost there. They grabbed his wrists, trying to break free, but Mammon wouldn’t let them go. He could hear their chest puff out suffocated sobs. 

He watched their shields crumble down in front of him. MC leaned into his touch, tears unable to be held back any longer. “No...I don’t. I don’t want to do it anymore.” They allowed him to pull them close, and he let out a brisk sigh. 

“You’re too selfless for your own good. It’s running ya ragged.” He fiddled with a strand of hair on the nape of their neck. “Can’t you be a little greedy?” They didn’t respond, they just kept on crying. He held onto them tighter. He tisked. “Listen, I’ve got a special one-of-a-kind deal for you.” He felt them start to calm down, slowly but surely. “Take some of my greed for yourself, eh? Greed isn’t always about money or power. Sometimes it’s about doing what you want, solely for the fact that you want it.” Their head swiveled up just enough so he could see their eyes. He almost choked up just looking at them. He cleared his throat. “You clearly don’t have a selfish bone in your body, so I’ll just have to do it for you. We’re tearing up those assignments. And…” He took a deep breath in. “Because I’m so great, this once-in-a-lifetime offer comes with me, Mammon, doing your work for you. IF-” He dried their eyes, thankful their fit had come to a close. His hand lingered on their skin. “You promise to do something for yourself in exchange.” 

MC weakly agreed, and Mammon piled up MC’s work on top of his own to take to his room. He was unaware of the dark shadow lingering in the doorway that stepped away like a whisper. Striding away with a proud smile on their face.

[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles​ for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text. 

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed.  “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.” 

You saw the confusion on his face. 

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.” 

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?” 

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it. 

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.” 

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared. 

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.” 

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.” 

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!” 

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice,  casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand,  you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

“Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you.  “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.” 

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.” 

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed. 

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that  every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go  straight  through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water. 

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were.  You leant up against the railing that  kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at. 

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured  quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name. 

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew  what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired. 

[sisterspooky1013]

Goodnight and Go by SisterSpooky1013

Part of the inspired by songs series, this work is inspired by “goodnight and go” by Imogen Heap.

2219 words, read it here on AO3

His knock was always a welcome interruption. The soft rap rap against her door seemed to have a direct line to her lips, quirking them into a secret smirk that she invariably erased before greeting him. She was, after all, an accomplished avoider, hider, and suppresser of emotions. She had become so adept at concealing her visceral response to him that she found she was unable to let it be known, even now that she felt ready for that part of herself to be seen. Nearly dying from cancer could do that to you; make you rethink why you ever built walls around your heart in the first place. What was meant to protect you from hurt and vulnerability also served to prevent you from having the type of true connection that made life worth living in the first place. And so when she learned her fate, that she would live, she decided to make a change, to let him in, only to discover that she didn’t actually know how. So, brick by brick, she was deconstructing her own defenses. Sometimes that looked like not suppressing a smile, or making a sexual innuendo, or sitting a little closer than was absolutely necessary. It was tedious work, but the progress was continual. What she had not anticipated, however, was how quickly Mulder would respond to the change in her, and how affected she would be by his response.

Mulder had always been affectionate towards her, tender even at times. His broad hand at the small of her back, the occasional stroke of her cheek, a kiss to the top of her head now and then, these were expected and appreciated gestures. Her own demeanor or their sometimes tumultuous relationship never seemed to affect whether he interacted with her in this way; it was simply a given. But the first time she reciprocated, returning his coy smile with a toothy grin of her own instead of a suppressed smirk, she saw his body respond to the feedback. Something shifted in his eyes, or maybe it was more like a subtle wave that traveled down his body, or a spark that sputtered from his fingertips. Whatever it was, she felt it from several feet away, electric and thick and heavy between them, and it hadn’t abated since.

Rap rap.

She felt a flush spread from her chest to her fingertips, and her tongue darted out to taste the smile that stretched across her lips. She wouldn’t push it away this time; she wanted him to see how happy she was to see him. Pulling the door open, she greeted him warmly with a “hi” and he grinned in return, setting off a fluttering in her belly that had previously been reserved for high school crushes. His snug jeans and grey T shirt hugged his muscular body in all the right places, and she decided then and there to pull down her brick for the day, to chip away at part of the wall. Still smiling, she let her gaze float down his body, taking in the hard swell of his pecs and the soft bulge in his pants before she met his eye again. It felt gratuitous and overt, but in reality it was nothing more than a flicker; something he might have missed had he looked away for even a moment. But he hadn’t missed it. She knew because he inhaled deeply and she saw his eyes darken as his pupils expanded, his nervous system unable to suppress its natural response to the flush of dopamine he experienced as a result of her leering.

“Come in,” she said, stepping aside, ignoring the blush that she felt warm her cheeks. She couldn’t suppress her body’s natural response to what felt dangerous and exciting any more than he could. “Can I get you something? Coffee, beer?”

She had been working on not asking why he was there, or what he needed. She wanted to eliminate the pretense that their relationship could exist only as it related to a case or a task, so that they could simply be together without a reason for doing so. Maybe if she stopped asking him to justify why he came over or called, he would do so more often, just because.

“Sure, beer sounds great,” he replied, slipping off his shoes and making for the couch. He had nothing in his hands, seemingly no agenda, and that fact both thrilled her and made her uncomfortable. The discomfort, she knew, was part of her defense mechanisms, and so she chose to ignore it. Another brick fell away with a THUNK as she plopped down beside him, on the middle cushion rather than the opposite end as she normally would.

“What have you been up to today?” She asked, handing him his open bottle while taking a swig of her own. His thick fingers brushed over hers as he took the beer from her hand and she caught his eye briefly.

“Not much, I’ve just been over at the gunmen’s, playing Monopoly of all things.” He pivoted his body towards hers, draping an arm over the back of the couch behind her head, which felt like some kind of embrace though they weren’t touching at all.

“Ah, who won?” She asked, curling her legs underneath her torso so that she could also face him, the side of her body leaning on the back of the couch, his arm close enough that she could smell the soap on his skin.

“Nobody, we just stopped playing. I don’t think I’ve ever finished a game of Monopoly, actually.” He shifted slightly and she felt his fingertips brush over the back of her neck momentarily, sending a shiver up her spine.

“What? How can you just stop without anyone winning?!” She was genuinely incredulous.

Mulder chuckled good-naturedly. “Not everyone is as competitive as you, Scully. We were just playing for fun, it doesn’t matter who won.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “That approach would not fly in the Scully household.”

“I’m suddenly getting an idea of why you never played sports in school,” he teased, touching her neck on purpose this time, squeezing gently. Without allowing herself to think about it, she leaned into his touch like a cat, or a flower seeking sunlight. Encouraged, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and kept them there.

“No,” she replied, though her voice was a little softer, her breath a little less even, “I never played sports because I’m terrible at them.”

“Really? I was under the impression that there’s nothing you aren’t good at.” His eyes were on her lips, studying them as though he was seeing them for the first time. In what was an unconscious tick, her tongue slipped out and ran along the seam of her mouth. She saw his eyebrows jump almost imperceptibly.

“I don’t like doing things I’m not good at, so I generally avoid them,” she answered, trying to ignore the way his fingertips whispered against her skin, and the resulting throb between her legs.

“What are you bad at, other than sports?” He asked, and she was momentarily lost in the flutter of his eyelashes and the green flecks in his irises as they traversed her face, cool and serene and without nervousness. He always seemed so comfortable and in his element, unflappable in a way that she often envied. His eyes fixed on hers and she realized she was staring, but forced herself not to look away.

“Puzzles. I suck at puzzles,” she finally answered, and his mouth quirked into a smile that she mirrored, just because his smile made her happy.

“I’ve seen you do puzzles, Scully. Difficult ones.”

She nodded, humming at the feeling of his fingers rubbing against her scalp with the movement. “Once I start I have to finish it, but that doesn’t mean that I like it, or that I’m any good at it.”

“Ah, yes, that sounds like the Scully I know,” he said, slipping his hand away from her and returning his arm to the back of the couch. “Maybe we should play Monopoly sometime, see it all the way through,” he added, not seeming to notice the fact that every atom in her body was straining towards him, desperate to feel his touch again.

“I’m not sure that’s a good plan. We may not be friends when the game is over, regardless of who wins. Perhaps something lower stakes, like Candy Land,” she said with a smirk.

Mulder shook his head in mock-doubt. “I dunno, Scully, I can just envision you getting the cupcake card when you’re up by chocolate mountain. You’ll flip the table.” She screwed up her mouth but didn’t deny it. “How about strip poker? There are no losers in that game.”

She imagined Mulder peeling off his boxers after a bad hand, unable to conceal his arousal. Or maybe it would be her, revealing herself to him bit by bit. Her nipples tightened at the thought, and she saw his eyes dart down to her chest, noticing. Of course she wouldn’t be wearing a bra when she wasn’t expecting company.

“Isn’t the person who ends up naked the loser in strip poker?” She asked rhetorically, the verbalizing of nakedness a thrill in itself. Not that they hadn’t both seen each other naked before, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement that incidental eyefulls during times of medical emergency didn’t count.

“Technically speaking, yes, but if they aren’t particularly opposed to getting naked in the first place, that too can be a win.” He took a swig of his beer, and Scully suddenly remembered hers existed and did the same. “So you’d last, what,” he looked over her body, calculating how many items of clothing she was wearing, imagining not only what he could see but what lay beneath, “Four rounds at most. You don’t have socks on, that’s a disadvantage.”

She took a deep breath, summoning courage. “Only two, actually. You caught me at a bad time, strip poker wise.” She took another drink to cover her shock at her own admission.

Mulder’s eyes narrowed as he appraised her again. Pants and shirt. Oh. He shifted a little.

“Do you make a habit of not wearing underwear, Scully?” He ventured, the pitch of his voice one she was not well acquainted with. His mouth held a playful smirk, but his eyes betrayed his true reaction to what she’d said.

“Why do you ask?” She returned, question for question.

He smiled like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Just curious,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks.

She nodded, then diverted the focus to him. She’d had about as much as she could handle. “You’ve got about…6 losing hands to work with?” She asked, guesstimating. “Unless you’re also not wearing underwear,” she added cheekily.

“On the contrary, I’m outfitted in my favorites,” he said, leaning forward to set his beer on the coffee table before he leaned back and pulled up his shirt, revealing the ripples of his abdomen and a trail of soft brown hair that disappeared into his jeans. Scully suppressed a moan. He tugged the waistband of his boxers above his jeans to reveal a pattern of tiny cartoon Elvis’ on a black background.

“Those are very adult underwear, Mulder,” she teased him, and he tucked them away but stayed reclined like that, hands folded on his belly. There was still a sliver of flesh visible between his shirt and pants, which she pointedly avoided looking at.

He tilted his head up to look at her, their faces closer now in his reclined position. “I’d ask to see yours, but…y’know.” He arched his eyebrows and flicked his eyes over her body quickly.

“Maybe some other time,” she replied, a coy smile on her mouth.

“May-be,” he returned.

They were quiet for a moment, which turned into a minute, and felt like an eternity. It was the kind of silence that demanded action, shit or get off the pot kind of silence. She felt the hairs on her arms stand up, anticipation pricking her skin like a sunburn. Do something, she told herself. She parted her lips to speak, but no words came out.

“I should get going,” he said abruptly, and sat up. It felt like a bucket of cold water. Had he interpreted her hesitation as disinterest? She stood dumbly and followed him to the door. “Thanks for the beer,” he said, hand on the knob, and she nodded.

Just before he was about to pull the door closed behind him, he stopped. “Hey, next time I go to the Gunmen’s for game night, you wanna come with?”

She smiled tightly, “yeah, that sounds fun.”

He heaved a sigh that sounded like relief and smiled. “Great, I’ll let them know. Though I really recommend you wear underwear going over there. Never can be too careful with Frohike around. You know how he feels about you.” She chuffed a small laugh, and he added “can’t say I blame the guy.” Giving her one more glance from head to toe, he left.

Brick by brick. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. One day they would get there.

Tagging @today-in-fic thank you!

[kieraelieson]

Centaur AU 7

It turned out that setting up the rat cage was more complicated than expected, not because it would have been difficult, but because several of the centaurs wanted to help set it up, and with all of them crowding around a comparatively small space, they got in each other’s way more than helping.

But finally it was done, properly anchored so it wouldn’t have a chance of falling, and the four rats Patton had kept were placed inside.

Thomas, meanwhile, had been trying to think through the chaos. There were just too many of them to be all in the stable at once unless they were each in stalls. It was crazy, and loud, and just too many bodies all squashed into whatever space they were trying to be in.

He stood up on a bucket and raised his voice slightly. “Alright, I have a plan.”

All eyes turned to him, and he felt again that curl of fear in his stomach. He wasn’t exactly a leader, but they were all looking to him for what to do. He took in a slow breath. He may not be a good leader, but he certainly was going to be the best one he could manage with what he had.

“First I need a list of things to get at the store, and then I’m taking all of you except for Emile and Logan out to the paddock. Patton will be in charge.”

“Me?” Patton asked, his voice a surprised squeak.

But Thomas continued. “Emile and I will stay with Logan during the vet visit, and after the vet is gone we’ll make sure Logan is comfortable and preferably asleep and then we will go to the store. Once we get back, and we settle a few things, I’ll come get the rest of you for dinner.”

Remy, used to catching when Thomas had finished a thought, nodded.

“Is everyone good with this plan, or is there anything I’m not thinking of?”

There were a few more nods.

“I’d rather not be away from Logan that long right now,” Virgil said, worry shining in his eyes.

Thomas nodded slowly. “I understand that it would be scary for you to leave him right now, especially with how awful the vet is. But I think it’ll be better for him if it’s clear and empty in here, and she has nothing to complain about or get back at anyone for. I promise you I’ll take the very best care of Logan that I possibly can.”

Virgil looked down, nodding reluctantly.

“Alright then, what all should I put on my list?” Thomas asked.

There was silence for a long second.

Emile spoke up first, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’d say add quite a few blankets to the list, there’s barely enough here for horses, much less centaurs, and I’d like to be comfortable.”

All three of the awake resident centaurs turned to look at Emile, ‘you can’t say that, not like that!’ written more or less plainly on their faces.

“Absolutely,” Thomas said immediately. He and Emile both seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Model actually good relationships between centaurs and humans, and hope it helped the other centaurs to pick it up more gently.

Remy made that face.

That face when he knew Thomas and Emile were up to something, and he wanted in on it, even though he didn’t understand what it was. Thomas inwardly sent up a plea for Remy not to say something stupid.

“I want a Grande, Quad, Nonfat, No whip, One pump, Mocha!” Remy said, his tone several notches more aggressive than Emile’s had been. “From Starbucks! Not some other coffee place!”

A palpable silence fell over the stable, all the other centaurs staring at Remy with wide eyes.

Thomas’s first reaction, though slight, was to be annoyed at Remy for messing up the impromptu example. But Remy’s face, so intently haughty, as if he would go and stamp his hooves and tantrum if Thomas protested, and everyone else looking so shocked, just somehow hit Thomas’s brain funny, and before he could stop himself a sputtering laugh had escaped. He tried to hold it in, but it just made the sputtering worse.

Remy pouted at him.

The dam burst, and Thomas was bent over giggling. “I’m sorry! Really I am! I just— you looked so— pfffahahaha!”

They were probably looking at him like he was the idiot now.

But to his surprise, there was a little muffled snicker, and then giggles.

“You did look kind of funny,” Patton said, covering his mouth to hide the giggles. “All serious and grumpy.”

“I am serious!” Remy protested, for some reason pitching it so his voice went high, which made it sound more like he was whining than any kind of actually offended.

Thomas, who’d only barely been getting over his giggles, burst out again.

“Thomas!” Remy protested.

“I’m sorry!” Thomas managed between gasps for air and endless giggling. “I don’t— I don’t know why I think it’s so— so funny, really!”

Remy crossed his arms, turning away with a sassy ‘hmmph’, seeming determined to keep himself as the spectacle.

There was a puff of stifled laughter from Roman too, and even Emile was hiding a smile behind his hand. Virgil seemed more alarmed than amused, but at least Thomas wasn’t alone.

Finally his laughing seemed able to be controlled, and Thomas tried hard to stop. “I can— I can get you your coffee— I can’t remember-but don’t repeat it!” He started giggling again, against his will. “I’m sorry. I’ll get ahold of myself. I’ll try and get you a good one.”

Remy, thankfully satisfied, didn’t say anything or do anything that would make Thomas laugh again, just nodding.

“Does anyone else want anything?” Thomas asked. “I’ve got books for Logan, blankets especially for Emile, coffee for Remy, and I intended to get some more clothes if I could, are there any colors or styles I should go for?” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, trying to take long slow breaths and not envision Remy’s ‘serious’ face.

“Oh, you’re getting clothes too?” Patton asked. “Gee, I hadn’t thought about what I need for clothes yet.”

“Well, if I miss something this trip, I’ll always go again, and we can get new things,” Thomas promised. “It’s alright if you don’t know for sure.”

“Logan likes ties,” Virgil blurted, his mouth shutting immediately after.

Thomas nodded, trying to look calm and agreeable, despite his red and tear stained face. “I will be sure to get him some. Is there anything you would like?”

There was a silence where Thomas was sure that there was indeed something, but Virgil wouldn’t say anything.

“Virgil likes hoodies,” Patton said very quietly.

Thomas nodded. “Would you like for me to get you a hoodie, Virgil?”

Virgil nodded very slightly. “If it’s like… nearby what you’re already buying, or whatever.”

Thomas nodded. “I think it’s likely to be close. Patton, Roman, do either of you want anything?”

As there was another bit of silence, Thomas realized that getting wants out of them was going to be difficult, especially with things like ‘extra’ clothes that were probably seen as some kind of ‘frivolous’.

“What if I were to get some hair care products?” He suggested. “I’ll get plenty of hair ties, and some good shampoo and conditioner, and if you think you’d ever use a curl cream, Patton, I think it would be good for your hair. Roman, is there anything you would like?”

But Roman was just staring with wide eyes.

On the one hand, Thomas felt a little bit good to be able to surprise them so much with good things. But on the other, larger hand, he felt terrible that they were able to be surprised by shampoo and hair ties and clothes. Such simple things, that they, especially, ought to be given plenty of.

“What if I just guess then, and we can shift things around and ask for more by the next shopping trip?” Thomas said. “We need to get you guys out to the paddock before the vet gets here.”

There were several nods, and Thomas started handing out halters, trying not to pay attention to the subtly disgusted and unnerved looks on Remy and Emile’s faces. Remy more so, which was reasonable, since he had always disliked halters, and here he was being asked without asking to put one on for a bit. He did put it on though, which Thomas appreciated, though he agreed with Remy that he’d rather no one had to.

It didn’t take that long to take them out and jog back, and Thomas really hoped they would get along. Remy wasn’t exactly the most agreeable person, and without Emile there… well, Thomas just hoped Patton could manage.

He got back to the stable and tried to clear his mind a bit. He’d been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster this morning, actually more than a bit. It had been a long, hard morning. Not to fault the centaurs, not at all, but being woken up by a lawyer, rushing to stores and then work, dealing with the aftermath of a fight, and then organizing them all with a plan, not to mention that breakdown of laughter, it was a lot.

“You know… I’d really like a day where nothing much happens,” Thomas said to Emile. “The past few days have felt almost like my mind was dropped into a blender.”

Emile nodded empathetically. “I believe the path you’re going on will get there. Hopefully soon. Though perhaps not for another few days.”

Thomas grimaced. “Yeah. It sure seems that way. I just hope I don’t end up looking like a wack job before we get there.”

“You’re under a great deal of stress right now, both physical and emotional. It would make sense for you not to be calm through all of it.”

Thomas sighed and nodded. “That’s just the second mini breakdown I’ve had in two days.”

Emile immediately looked very concerned. “Well then I certainly hope the easy day comes soon. Remy and I will be helping as much as we can.”

“Thank you.”

And then he heard an engine rumbling to a stop. Thomas sighed heavily. “And that’s probably the vet.”

Emile patted his shoulder and then went into his stall, shutting the bottom door.

Thomas peeked in on Logan, who still seemed sound asleep, laying on his mound of hay and blankets. He didn’t want Logan woken by the vet, and especially not woken by pain, if they tried to do any treatment without waking him first. So, despite feeling terrible about waking him up, Thomas shook his shoulder gently.

“Logan, hey, can you wake up for me?”

Logan’s face screwed up, and then he opened his eyes. He looked at Thomas in confusion, and then almost tried to get up, but Thomas pushed down on his shoulder gently. “Hey, no, you don’t have to get up. The vet’s here, I just wanted you to know.”

Logan nodded slowly, and then pushed his glasses up, shifting position more slowly. “Thank you for informing me.”

Thomas nodded, and then went to open the door. Dr Avery was standing there with a big heavy bag and her hand raised to open it from the outside.

“There you are. So the Authiers really want to try with this?”

Thomas stepped outside, shut the door behind him and nodded firmly. “They do. And he’s going to pull through. I know he will.”

Dr. Avery gave him a grim smile. “You haven’t worked long with centaurs, have you?”

Thomas frowned. “A few years. Why are you so determined on this? They’re people, of course they’d want to pull through, but you act like they don’t.”

Dr. Avery’s face grew even more grim. “That’s the problem. They’re people, and no one acknowledges that. Life is a living hell for most of them. No one would want to pull through just to get abused like he has been all this time. Him in particular. You aren’t doing him the favor you think you are.”

Thomas considered. “I think we may be coming from the same place. But I think you’re wrong. Yes, their life has been terrible. But I’m working to make it better, not to kill them.”

“You can’t make every one of their lives better, Thomas. When you have to deal with as many as I do, you do the next best thing.”

“How is that any level of best thing?!”

“Once a centaur is hurt like that, the only other option is watching them waste away. Or in the best, and rarest, case, heal to go through it all over again.” She pointed at the stable. “If I help heal him, and you can’t keep him out of those crazed contests it will happen again and it’ll happen sooner!”

“I’m not letting him go back.”

“You say that, but what about when you move on? Or get fired? Or when the Authiers decide it’s more worth it to do those contests than to hold to your word? What then? You can’t save everyone!”

Thomas pressed his lips together. “Maybe not. But right now I can help this one. And I intend to.”

Dr. Avery sighed. “Of course you do. Young. Well, let me in. I brought medicine, and I’ll show you what you need to do.”

Her brief moment of passion passed almost instantly, and by the time they went inside she was the impassive, perhaps a bit grumpy, vet again.

She knelt by Logan, feeling his legs again.

“Alright, here’s what I want you to do,” she said, opening her bag. “Here’s an ointment that encourages blood flow, and will help heal, put that on his legs and wrap them up tight every morning and night. If they get to hurting him, here’s a pain medication, and use a cooling ointment. Keep his legs wrapped up. Keep him off them for at least twelve hours a day, though I’d rather sixteen. Have him walking around slowly, and absolutely do not put weight on him of any kind. Don’t let him run for a good month, and only after I check and give the ok.”

Thomas nodded at every point she made.

“Here’s enough medicine for about two weeks. There’s topical ointments, pain medication, and this is a diet supplement. Don’t mix them up. I’ll come back and check in then, unless something goes wrong. You call me if that happens.”

Thomas nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

She gave him a curt nod. “Let me show you how to put on the ointment and wrap his legs properly. Watch carefully.”

Thomas carefully watched as she did two legs, and then she had him wrap the other two so she could be sure he was doing it right.

“Well. That ought to do it. As long as you keep up with that and as long as he wants to get better, he probably will.” She looked at Logan, and then pointedly at Thomas.

Logan was glassy-eyed, staring at the wall, his glasses slipped down his nose. Thomas frowned in concern.

“I’ll do my best. Thank you.”

She nodded and packed her stuff up to leave.

Thomas sat down next to Logan, setting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing small circles with his thumb. After several minutes, Logan’s gaze shifted to Thomas.

“She’s gone now,” Thomas said quietly.

Logan gave a small nod, and his gaze drifted back to the wall.

“Do you want any painkillers?”

Logan shrugged slightly.

“I’ll get you some, and then let you go back to sleep.”

Logan roused a bit more to drink the medicine and wash it down with more water. Thomas made a mental note to get a variety of drink mixes for the centaurs.

Logan laid back, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Thomas said. “Do you want me to stay here till you sleep or would you rather some space?”

“I would prefer to be alone.”

“Alright then.” Thomas patted his shoulder gently and then got up and left the stall, closing both doors but only latching the bottom one.

He took a few minutes in Emile’s stall, just quietly leaning against him. He wanted the day to be over. But it was still mid-afternoon.

“We need to go shopping,” he mumbled into Emile’s side.

Emile patted his shoulder. “If you need a few more minutes, it can wait a little bit.”

Thomas let out a quiet groan. “Let’s just get it done and over with. Do you mind if I ride?”

“Not at all, though we might need something to carry all of the things we buy.”

Thomas nodded, adding it to the mental list. He climbed up onto Emile’s back, and they left the stable.

Thomas got a pair of pajamas for each of them, and several other clothing items, being sure to get a tie for Logan, and a hoodie for Virgil. There weren’t that many options, especially for Logan. Thomas had wanted to get a button-up shirt, in hopes that it would sort of go with the tie, but he had to make do with a polo shirt. And he’d hoped for something in a solid color for the hoodie, but they were all strange patterns or shapes. He ended up getting one that was almost like a black-only plaid, and then he found a soft grey hoodie that had cat ears and paws on the hands, and he got that too.

He got all the personal care items he could think of, hair care, nail care, lotion, deodorant, soap, everything. And with an unlimited credit card, he didn’t try to buy anything cheap, he got the better stuff.

He considered the small options of books. He considered a long time, completely unsure of which ones Logan would like.

And then he bought an iPad.

It was infinite books!

He got a number of drink mixes, and the coffee for Remy, and some cookies for good measure.

Thomas felt very pleased with himself. Now to get many many blankets, and see if there was any way of getting it all back to the stable.

He ended up buying a small, two wheeled cart, figuring that they’d need to move things around sometime in the future, so it wasn’t a waste to buy.

The hitching up of the little cart to Emile was rather more complicated than most things, but they managed it, and headed back for the estate and the stable.

After unhitching Emile and checking on Logan, who was thankfully still asleep, Thomas went out to the paddock to get the others.

Virgil was waiting by the fence. “Is Logan ok?”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, he’s fine. The vet looked him over again, and gave me medicine, and it looks like he’ll be getting better.”

Virgil sighed in relief. “Can we go back now?”

“I was coming to bring you guys back. Logan’s asleep though, you’ll have to be a bit quiet going in.”

“We can do that.”

And then Thomas was hit with a moment of question. The other centaurs were far down the field, and hadn’t noticed his arrival. Remy and Emile had agreed that his best bet was to whistle loudly when they were far off. But the other centaurs didn’t know that, they wouldn’t recognize it, or even worse, they might, and it might mean something different to them. And either way, it would probably startle Virgil for Thomas to suddenly whistle that loud.

“I can go get the others,” Virgil said, shifting in place impatiently.

Thomas inwardly sighed with relief. “That’d be really nice, thank you.”

Virgil reared up and spun around, racing off at an incredible speed. Thomas was struck by how beautifully he ran. He was glad Virgil trusted him enough to be calm for things like halters that let him come out here, and he made a new inner commitment to bring the centaurs out as often as possible.

And now that he was thinking about it, Roman and Virgil seemed to have some kind of skill rivalry, put on hold by Virgil’s being… Thomas shoved aside that image of Virgil all tied up like he had been. What was important was that Virgil was getting out now. He could run, and compete with Roman, and walk with Logan, and roll with Patton all he liked now.

Soon Patton was trotting up, followed by a slower Remy, and then Roman and Virgil both racing back from the farthest end of the paddock.

Thomas picked up the halters from where they were laying over the gate and held them out. “Roman, Virgil, while you’re putting them on I want you to walk around. Getting leg cramps yourself would be no fun.”

Roman let out a kind of joking groan. “Sure thing ‘coach’.”

Virgil though looked startled, standing stock still, and then briskly walking in a tight circle. “Like this?”

Thomas smiled lightly. “You’re fine, Virgil, that’ll help. After a run like that you need a bit of cool down instead of just stopping.”

Roman snorted, which turned Virgil’s nervousness into an annoyed glare directed at Roman.

Remy and Patton quickly put the halters on, and Roman and Virgil took a bit longer, but also got them on.

Thomas led them back to the barn, but was hit even more now by the sheer wrongness of holding ropes attached to people. Even if they were more or less ok with it, it wasn’t just freely given. Emile didn’t mind being hitched that little cart he had bought because Emile didn’t mind pulling it. Now they had to put on the halters, whether any of them wanted to or not, because there might be prying eyes and trouble if they didn’t.

In addition to all his other inward promises, Thomas added ‘talk to the other workers here and convince them I’m a centaur whisperer and that I can handle centaurs without halters’.

They seemed fine to take off the halters and go into their stalls on their own, so Thomas started making dinner. He made sure to add the supplement into Logan’s, and made sure it was a good big dinner. He may not have been moving around during the day, but his body would need the extra help to heal. He went ahead and made them drinks with the mixes, except for Remy, who got his coffee, and gave each of the centaurs a cookie.

“Roman, would you wake Logan up?” Thomas asked.

Roman looked up suddenly. “Me? I could, but… shouldn’t he be getting all the sleep he can?”

“Yes, but he also needs to eat well, and this is medicated food too. He’ll need it to get better.”

“Oh. Yes. I’ll wake him up.” Roman went into Logan’s stall, kneeling and softly waking him up.

Thomas handed out all the dinners, Logan’s last, to give him a bit more of a chance to properly wake up. He gave Logan’s directly to him, so he wouldn’t try to stand up.

“Don’t forget to feed the cat, Thomas,” Emile said.

Thomas blinked. He’d forgotten about the cat entirely. Where was it even?

“Here she is,” Virgil offered, seeing Thomas looking blindly around the stable.

She was curled up in the back of Virgil’s stall, in a little blanket nest that a cat was not capable of making. Thomas hid his smile.

“Let me get her some dinner then.”

The cat ran out to Thomas as soon as the can was opened, quickly eating.

Thomas stood up and put his hands on his hips.

“I think that’s almost… oh. We bought stuff! Let me hand this all out. Or actually, you guys don’t have much storage. Whatever you want to use now I’ll hand out, and then the rest gets put away, but any time you want to use it you can. You don’t need to ask or anything, just grab what you need.”

Thomas went outside to where the cart was still sitting, and grabbed first the stack on blankets that was on top of everything.

“Alright. Anyone else want a hay bed? Or more blankets? There’s plenty.”

Patton wanted to try a hay bed, and Emile helped Thomas and Patton to make it. Virgil got an extra blanket, Roman got a smaller one he could wrap around his shoulders like a cape, and Logan had several draped over him. Which reminded Thomas that he had to rewrap Logan’s legs with more medicine.

After that he handed out pajamas, and then showed them the hoodies and the tie and polo shirt, and all the other care items. They certainly seemed happy about it, but Thomas was getting rather tired and fuzzy-minded, too much to register individual reactions.

“I think…” he said slowly, after all the presents were handed out. “I’ll make myself a hay bed in one of the empty stalls, and I’ll stay here tonight. I don’t know where the bunk rooms are, and don’t really want to wander in the dark. Plus this way I can help if Logan needs anything.”

“You could stay next to me!” Patton offered.

Thomas nodded and went back up to the attic, dropping down some more hay bales. He barely bothered spreading them out, and then dropped a blanket over them, wrapping himself in another blanket and plopping into the pile.

“Make sure you wake me up if you need me,” he mumbled, dropping off to sleep almost immediately.

———

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[silkylious]

Fucking Imbecile (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Fem reader Warnings: Just a whole lotta fluff, light angst and comfort Prompt: #1 “Great. Now you’ve gone and fallen in love with her/him, you fucking imbecile”

A/N: Thank you @call-me-prodigy​ for the request! I hope you like this! 

A constant.

That’s what you’ve always been in his life. No matter the time, place or circumstances, you’ve always been there for him. He’d dubbed you a pebble on the side of the road for his feet to kick around, but much like his other childhood friend, it didn’t seem to perturb you in the slightest. Always wandering around with that dumb, carefree grin. Unlike Izuku though, you didn’t share his desire of becoming a hero. Violence just wasn’t for you, and even if there were a lot of rescue-centric heroes out there, fighting was still a huge part of the job. Besides, it wasn’t like you could be one even if you wanted to. You were quirkless after all. Your lack of interest in heroics didn’t mean you didn’t want to help people, however. Ever the true pacifist, you sought to make everyone’s day better, regardless of how big or small the effect may be, if your smile could brighten someone’s day even by a little bit then that was enough to satiate you. Which explains why throughout his childhood, despite him being a gigantic dickhead, you were a source of unconditional support and optimism in his life. A constant ray of blinding sunshine, livening his day up whether he asked for it or not.

The events that had just transpired left his brain reeling, struggling to catch up to reality. You looked like you were asking for help. Now that he wasn’t in the grips of the sludge villain, he was left to his own devices to overthink. Fucking Deku, I didn’t need help with that expired nickelodeon slime! He repeated over and over again, though it honestly felt like he was trying to reassure himself at this point. Katsuki was confident in his abilities (that’s a fucking understatement), but he couldn’t shake the feeling of actually being in the clutches of danger, no matter how many times he’d envisioned a scenario like this. People bumped into him from each direction, he didn’t feel them, eyes trained on his open palm. The pinnacle of his power couldn’t save him, yeah sure he stalled for a bit, but if All Might hadn’t showed up, both him and that shitty nerd would’ve been toast. That undeniable fact absolutely shook him. Before he could mentally crumble apart, a hand found his shoulder, stabilizing him in reality. So warm, so recognizable, it felt like home.

He turned around and was met with soft eyes, but they held no pity, no sympathy; they didn’t call him a weakling. They poured with understanding, pride and hope, as if telepathically telling him to learn from this experience, not take it to heart. You silently tugged at his sleeve, walking him towards his residence and he didn’t say no, he didn’t say anything at all. Just quietly watched your back as you lead the way, hand still lugging him along. Not once did you look back, and he decided that he wouldn’t either. He’d learn from this, and not look back; no reason to brood over what could’ve gone wrong.

When you went your separate ways (him to U.A. and you to a public high-school), he found it hard to adjust to your absence. Quirkless or not, he valued your presence in his life. He wouldn’t admit it to save his life, but he missed your encouraging smile, missed your comforting touch. He’d grown attached to you, you’d never once made him feel small, weak or pitiful, and you still managed to console him when he needed it most. Luckily for him, you lived next door.

He lost. To fucking Deku. That was certainly a first. What rubbed salt into his open wound were his other classmates, Katsuki was not accustomed to having actual competition. He was so used being first by a landslide, that his mind could barely compute not only his loss against Deku, but the sheer skill and strength some of his peers showed off. Like that Half-n-Half bastard. Fuck. Then that stupid nerd had to babble some bullshit about a borrowed quirk, was he mocking him? Did Deku seriously think he was dumb enough to believe shit like that?! He was standing in front of his home, refusing to go in, not when he still had fucking tears in his eyes.

“Katsuki?” Of fucking course, you had to show up now of all times. You seemed to have a habit of catching him at his lowest and it was pissing him off. He dried his eyes with his sleeve, he knew it was futile and his eyes were bloodshot anyway, but he refused to cry in front of you. At lest that was the plan.

“F-Fuck off!” His stammer severely dulled the insult. You ignored it, as per usual.

“What happened?” You persisted, approaching him until there was only a couple inches between you. His shaky breaths came out short, unrhythmic. You slowly lowered his forearm from his face, only to be greeted by his vermilion gems encased in angry red lines, clear indications that he was crying. Katsuki watched, waited for you to show any kind of that self-righteous pity, the kind he saw in Midoriya’s eyes, the kind that he full-heartedly loathed. But it never came, all he could see is patience and quiet succor, waiting for him to say his piece. “What happened, Katsuki?” You repeated. The addition of his given name softened him up way too much for his own comfort.

Fuck it. He blew off at the mouth, releasing all his frustrations and insecurities in one breath. Katsuki was screaming, shouting and yelling to his heart’s content. And you listened, not once did you intervene his venting session. When his voice became scratchy, his eyes watering again and not a coherent word came out of his mouth, that’s when you decided to step in. His unintelligible ramblings were cut off as you engulfed him in a tight hug.

“Listen to me, Katsuki. And I want you to listen good,” The words were whispered right into his ear, as if you were trying to push them directly through his subconscious. He stood there, stiff as a board as he took in your response, your arms holding him securely. “You’re strong and smart and hardworking, I know that better than anyone else. But you’re not flawless; nobody is, and that’s not a bad thing, its not a weakness. Tell me, don’t you want to be the strongest hero of them all? The best? The number one?” He, in a very uncharacteristic and meek fashion, gave you a single nod. “Then knowing your flaws and working on them is essential to that, don’t ya think? Losses, right now, aren’t weaknesses, Katsu. They’re steppingstones. You’re still learning, you still have so much room for improvement, and you can only improve by working on your flaws, yeah?”

Your voice was so gentle, so comforting, hands rubbing at his tense shoulders and back. He couldn’t help but wrap his muscled arms around you too, nodding his head as he planted it closer to the crook of your neck. Katsuki kept you in that position for god knows how long, breathing in your scent while letting your words sink in. He briefly contemplated the possibility of you having a quirk. A quirk that let’s you say the right things at the right time because goddamn you knew just how to lift his spirits.

“Thanks, nerd.” It was so faint that had it not been uttered into your neck, you probably wouldn’t have heard it. He tightened his hold on you for a split second before he completely let go and walked to his front door, entering and shutting the door behind him without sparing you a second glance. He stepped in feeling much more relieved, elated even, but he didn’t understand the rapid beating of his heart, nor did he want to dwell on it. It’s probably from all the yelling anyway.

On the other side, you stood with a serene smile, humming lightly with jubilation.

“You’re welcome, Katsuki.”

He’d seek you out whenever he wanted to rant about that fucking nerd or the Half-n-Half bastard, and you listened to his every word, giving your own comments whenever you felt they were needed. Somehow, despite going to different schools, the separation seemed to draw you closer together. You’d frequent his room, study with him, play video games with him, and sometimes you’d just lay there, silently cherishing each other’s company. Then he had to leave for the U.A. training camp.

“Take care, Katsu,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crimson eyes fell on your form, he adjusted the duffel bag strap on his shoulder. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Katsuki contemplated his next move, awkwardly staring at your face while his mind went into overdrive. For fuck’s sake. You watched him curiously as he huffed aggressively, stomping over to you. He roughly pulled you into an embrace, if you could even call it that; it felt like he was trying to suffocate you.

“Stay safe, dumbass.” He grumbled, ending the affectionate gesture as soon as it had started.

It was supposed to be a get away resort to enhance the students’ quirks, but they got way more than they’d bargained for. You stayed up all night, gaze trained on the news channel as more and more updates filed in. They took him. They kidnapped him. Staring with tears in your eyes at the sight before you, blue flames licking at what was supposed to be a secret location. Your heart was palpitating wildly in your chest.

“Izuku!” The whole class turned around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You quickly shuffled past them, almost throwing yourself at Midoriya’s frame on the hospital bed. You cried into his chest, agony bleeding from your eyes as you pleaded, begged for him.

“Bring him back, please. Bring back our Kacchan, Izuku!” If his hands weren’t in casts, he would’ve clutched you impossibly closer. He was the only one who knew of your feelings for his childhood friend and seeing you like this added more fuel to the fire of determination in his eyes.

A week had passed, Katsuki was rescued and he hadn’t said a word to you since his arrival. You figured he needed time to think but god did you miss him, all you could think about is being in his arms, his presence, hearing his voice, anything that could assure you he was still here, alive and safe.

Late into the night, you couldn’t catch a wink of sleep, too preoccupied with the aftermath of everything that had happened one week ago. There was a knock at your door. Your parents were well asleep, so you were left to see who would be here at this ungodly hour. Looking through the small peephole, your eyes caught sight of spiky ash blonde hair. The door was swung open, Katsuki didn’t have time to react before you flung yourself at him and he nearly lost his balance from the impact. He’d never seen you this shaken up (you were always so calm and collected) and it fucking hurt so you like this, because of him, because he wasn’t strong enough, because his weak ass couldn’t save himself-

“I missed you so much, K-Katsuki,” You were sniffling and hiccupping all over his shirt, but he couldn’t care less about that. His attention was drawn to you, the state you were in, he didn’t even return your hug, all he could think about was how pathetic and weak he was. Immediately, you picked up on his lack of reaction, how his head was bowed in shame, how his hands limply hung at his sides. You’d seen him in this exact position countless times before and you knew what you had to do. Sat on your couch, the silence was deafening, vastly different to the air of tranquility you usually shared. Katsuki decided to speak first.

“It was my fault–”

“Katsu–”  

“Let me finish.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from interjecting his speech. But god, it was so hard to keep quiet when he was berating himself like this. He poured his heart out to you, each word so damning, so broken. Every syllable that fell from his lips cut through you; you couldn’t bear to see him like this. You could only imagine the sheer anguish lurking inside him, his idol retired to save him, even just the thought made your chest hurt. Tears painted his face, yours too. By the time he’d gone mute, you had him in your grip, rocking him gently as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

“Katsuki,” You started, voice faint and barely a whisper. “I don’t know exactly what happened there, but… if there is anyone to blame for this, it’s the villains,” His head was buried in your chest, tears still cascading down his face and into the material of your shirt. “And honestly, I don’t think anything you could have done would have changed the outcome at all. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Katsu. If anyone else was in your place, I doubt it would’ve changed anything for the better. Honestly, I feel like this was probably the best case scenario, it’s still shitty but at least you’re alive and safe. All Might’s alive, your classmates are all safe. All the damage was the villains’ fault, not yours. Please don’t beat yourself up over this, it was out of your control…” Your voice trembled as another barrage of water conquered your eyes. Your hands ran through his soft follicles, trying to soothe the hurricane that was stampeding through both of you.

That strange sensation in his gut began to arise again as you shed tears of empathy for him, the beating in his heart accelerating considerably. You remained that way, in each other’s embrace, until you both fell into slumber and your parents woke you up the next day. As Bakugo said his goodbye to you and watched you close the door with a stupidly cute bedhead, he realized something. Something that explained the annoying flutter of his heart whenever you called him that stupid nickname, the overwhelming desire to be near you at all times and why he only ever let you break through his defense, bringing down his fortified walls brick by brick.

Katsuki facepalmed.

“Great. Now you’ve gone and fallen in love with her, you fucking imbecile.”

After his move to the U.A. dorms, your rendezvous had become a lot less frequent. He found himself thinking about you way more than he’d like to admit, unbeknownst to him you were thinking about him just as much, if not more. You’d send him a text daily asking how he was, fussing over his well-being and making sure he’s okay. And the times you did meet up, things would be… off with him. With the revelations about his own feelings recognized (finally), Katsuki found himself noticing small things about you, ticks and habits most people wouldn’t bat an eye at, but he did. He found himself struggling not to blush whenever you shared a goodbye hug, or when you would lean over to look at his notebook during your study sessions, coming dangerously close to his face. You’d picked up on his change of attitude too but didn’t comment on it. It sent butterflies soaring in your chest, head high above the clouds every time that adorable pink would grace his devilishly handsome face, yet you couldn’t risk it. What you had with Katsuki was precious to you but also to him, you didn’t want to ruin one of the only true friendships he had for the sake of your own feelings.

Katsuki finally grew the balls to tell you (after an onslaught of teasing from the Baku-squad when they caught wind of his crush). He was over at your place for the weekend, you spent the whole day playing video games (ahem getting your ass kicked), watching crappy horror movies and just enjoying each other’s company. He loosened up the more time went on, reminding himself to savor every waking moment with you by his side, never again would he take you for granted.

You were on your third horror film, competing to see who would get scared first. The plot in this one wasn’t all that horrible if you were being honest, it had completely captivated you, so much so that you couldn’t see the smirk on Katsuki’s face or how his hand had sneaked around the back of the couch to reside behind your shoulders, waiting for the right moment to strike. The scene was building up to a climax, Katsuki side eyed you as you leaned forward, too engulfed in the movie to be aware of your surroundings. And then–

“AHHH!”

An all too embarrassing shriek left your throat, you’d never live that one down. Katsuki was laughing his ass off as your brain tried to register what had just happened. And when it finally clicked, you were ready to beat his ass into oblivion. Jumping into his lap without thinking about it, you began throwing punches at his chest (that honestly felt like getting tickled to him), which substantially increased his laughter until there were tears in his eyes. “You asshole! why would you do that?!” Your indignant cry only served to make him laugh harder until he sounded like a seal doing a mating call. His atypical glee was contagious and you found yourself chuckling along, hands no longer jabbing at his pecs, rather resting peacefully over them, feeling his chortles in overwhelming detail.

When the dust had settled and your chuckles died down, both of you became infinitely conscious of the position you were in. Both of your faces suddenly aflame with realization. When you went to break the close proximity between you, he surprised both of you by securing his hands on your hips, keeping you in place. The fiery red adorning his cheeks was a comical contrast to the determined scowl on his face. His knuckles were turning white as he dug his digits into your sides, steeling himself.

“(n-name), I like you… a lot,” Katsuki wished he could stare at anything but your face, yet he forced himself to watch your reaction. “I-I wanna be more than friends–”

Not another letter passed through his lips before you molded them with your own, sealing that as your response. His hands relaxed a bit, moving up to your waist and kneading the soft skin there. When you pulled a part, you’ll never forget the sight of the small grin of genuine elation on his face, not taking a second to reciprocate it.

[taehyungiejiminie95]

Yoongi - Arranged Marriage

You had tried screaming. You had tried crying. You had trying running away. You had tried fighting. You had tried begging, bargaining, threatening, everything you could possibly think of to stop this from happening, but your parents simply wouldn’t listen. Deep down, you know they love you and only want what is best for you, but this is not how you envisioned them showing it. Seriously, an arranged marriage? To some random business partner’s kid? Were they joking?

No, apparently, as you found out the hard way. Your wedding day was not what you dreamed it would be as a young girl. You barely even had a say in the proceedings – although as you had no say in your husband, this is hardly surprising. At the last minute, you nearly ruined your make up crying in your mother’s arms, pleading with her not to do this. You hadn’t even met the man and you already hate him! Anyone who goes along with this is a terrible person in your eyes and you had no desire of meeting them, let alone marrying them.

Mint green hair. Bad first impression. He couldn’t even give you enough respect to have a reasonable hair colour on your wedding day! Insane. It made you hate him even more. The ceremony passed torturously slowly, and you didn’t look him in the eyes at all in fear you’d burst into tears all over again. You barely managed to choke out your vows, and your hands shook uncontrollably as you exchanged rings. In the blink of an eye but also after an eternity, you were pronounced married, and your new husband (you nearly retch at the thought) pressed a gentle kiss to your lips to seal the deal.

You barely exchanged words for the rest of the night, other than such comments as ‘excuse me’, or ‘no thank you’. All in all, it was just as much of a horrible experience as you expected. You knew then you would never forgive your parents for handing you off in such a way, no matter how lovely they think he is, or whatever good it does for your family’s business and reputation. When your husband opened the car door for you so you could go back to the hotel where you were to be spending the night, you didn’t so much as thank him. At least he had the sense to book a night somewhere with two separate bedrooms, and all you could do was pray he didn’t hear your sobs when you closed your bedroom door behind you, tearing your dress off as you found yourself unable to hold back the tears anymore.

A few weeks passed in much the same way. You didn’t speak to your new husband, and you spent most of your time locked up in one bedroom or another just crying. The two of you were going to the Caribbean for a ‘Let’s Get to Know Each Other’ honeymoon, but you didn’t leave the hotel. When you left your room to use the bathroom, you found warm food on a silver platter, probably put there by room service. So that’s what you did for a week. You probably saw your husband three times in total over that 2-week holiday. Once on the plane out, once on the plane back, and once you accidentally ran into him when you were going back to your room from the bathroom. He had looked at you with wide eyes, filled with a concern you were sure was faked. By the time he had managed to stutter out an apology, you had locked the bedroom door again.

You’re going to have to talk to him soon. You’re married now, just try to make the most of it.

The words ring inside your head now as you sit in what you assume to be one of the guest bedrooms at your new house. You know it’s what your mother would say to you, but you try to cast it out of your head. You haven’t answered any of her texts or calls since the wedding. Nevertheless, though, whoever’s advice it is, it’s right. You’ve sulked for nearly a month now, and you’re getting a bad case of cabin fever locking yourself up all day. It’s becoming hard to remember the last time you felt the sun on your face. With the new resolve that you may be overreacting a tad, you get up and dressed into presentable clothing. Even now you have no desire to seek out your new husband, so you decide to start by walking around the garden. The two of you have been (very generously) gifted a large estate as a wedding present from your families. It has a few acres of land, with ample room to get lost in if you so wish. And you do so wish.

It’s bright outside, and you wince a little as it stings your eyes. You get over the sensation quickly and set off towards the orchard section of the grounds. It’s very well cared for, and when you reach the freshly mowed grass, you can’t help kicking your shoes off to venture further. As a young girl, you loved the feeling of grass tickling your feet, and it brings a ghost of a smile to your face. In hindsight, you always knew this was going to happen. You parents had an arranged marriage, all of your friends too, and the fact has never been hidden from you. It just feels… wrong. It feels like everything was stolen from you. The first date; the first stolen kiss under the moonlight; the butterflies and the shaky knees when he picks you up from your house; meeting his family and being adored by them; him meeting your parents and being given the age-old ‘DAD TALK’; a surprise proposal at a meaningful place; the giddiness of telling everyone, of planning a perfect wedding with the perfect man. Love. You feel like love was stolen from you,

“Your mother told me that the blossom trees are your favourite,” You hear a low voice utter from behind you. You nearly jump out of your skin as your lurch around to see who had followed you so quietly out here. It’s him. Of course, its him. Who else could it have been? With his stupid green hair and his too-expensive tailored suit, “I can see why. This time of year is perfect for them,” He offers you a shy smile. You can see he’s standing at a respectful distance, hands carefully folded in front of him. Very non-threatening. You want to scoff, but something in his face looks a little wary. Nervous,

“Is that why you had them put in? Thought it might soften the blow of a glorified kidnapping?” You question plainly. There’s no venom or harshness in your tone, but the man’s face falls ever so slightly anyway. You should feel bad, but you don’t. He’s as much a part of this as your parents, you’re sure, “It doesn’t,” You turn away and look back to the tress that rustle gently in the summer breeze, “But they are calming. I’ve always thought so,” You add quietly. The most you’ve ever said to your husband. A little longer than your vows, which you had kept blunt and bare. You hear the man shift behind you, his polished shoes making noise on the fallen blossoms as he walks to stand in your eyesight again,

“Look,” He sighs, his composure cracking ever so slightly, “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Your father explained it to my parents very simply that you did not want to wed. I get it. I wasn’t all for having my life picked out for me either,” Your eyes meet his with shock. You didn’t know. You thought he wanted this just as much as they did, “But this is the hand we’ve been dealt. If you want to ignore me and hide away from me, be my guest. By all means, do it. But I’m prepared to make the effort to get on with you. I don’t expect you to fall for me or even particularly like me, but if we can just…” He breaks off to roll his eyes and move his hair out of his face, “If we can just talk to each other once in a while, maybe have dinner on occasion, that would make this a hell of a lot easier,” You blink as his rant apparently ends, and his words hang in the air, filling your ears. You take your time to process it, thinking about what he’s asking. Re-evaluating your assumptions about him. He’s stuck in this situation just as much as you are, but he’s not sulking or crying or hiding. He’s trying to swallow down the truth and get on with it. Could you do the same? Do you want to do the same?

After a while, he assumes you’re just not going to respond. You have this blank look on your face, so he sighs again and makes to stride away. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch his purposeful steps, his head held just a little too high, as if he’s hiding something. Maybe hurt at your rejection. All he wants is to make this easier for the both of you. As he reaches the edge of the lawn, you find the words to call out,

“Dinner sounds nice. I’m in the mood for Italian,” Your husband turns around with a shy smile and nods,

“I could go for some Italian. Come to the dining room at 7. You don’t have to dress up or anything,” You don’t have to dress up? Hmm… maybe you can get along with your new husband. Maybe. It depends what kind of Italian food he gets for you.

Yoongi gives himself a small smile as he walks away. That wasn’t the biggest victory ever, some of his friends who got an arranged marriage didn’t have this problem at all, but it was something. He lets himself into the kitchen and asks the on-site chef to take the rest of the night off and return the following morning instead. You’ve given him a chance to show you this won’t be a complete nightmare, being married to him and all, and he doesn’t want to blow it. He takes a couple deep breaths as he glances around the kitchen. You can’t go wrong with a bit of homemade lasagne. Another tiny smile plays across his lips as he sheds his suit jacket and reaches for an apron. It really has been too long since he last cooked, and what better time to pick it up again that to win over his new wife, the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with?

[thefinalcinderella]

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 6 - The Sound of a Shouting Soul (Part 3)

Wanted to get this out a lot sooner but life got in the way

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. So there’s like rankings for how much someone can hold their drink. Waku (which includes all of Chikusei-sou) are people who don’t get drunk no matter how much they drink. Zaru are people who only get a little bit drunk after drinking. Geko are people who can’t drink at all.

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They had to completely get rid of their summer fatigue and they had to rest their bodies gradually before the meet; they trained a lot during the fall, but they didn’t run as much as they did during the training camp. Even so, as expected, even Kakeru began to feel both physically and mentally tired.

It was from the pressure of thinking “What if we do all this and it doesn’t go well on the day of the meet and it ends up being all for nothing?”

Unlike the previous meets, the qualifiers were a one-round competition with no redos; if you didn’t get the time you wanted, you couldn’t just bet on the next one, and that tension weighed heavily on Kakeru’s mind and body.

The training regimen had become denser. Twenty kilometers was the norm for cross-country, and build-ups were introduced into track practice. For instance, if you ran seven thousand meters, you ran the first thousand meters at a pace of less than three minutes and ten seconds, and then worked your way up to two minutes and fifty seconds at the end.

As they ran long distances faster and faster, the pain was not negligible. The inability to breathe during the endurance runs and the violent palpitations of the heart after running as fast as you can assailed you at the same time. It was like playing water polo while drowning, and Prince and the others threw up many times. However, every time Kiyose would caution, “Endure as much as you can.”

“You’ll get into the habit of throwing up. Hold it in and run.”

“I can’t do it.”

“I’ll choke on my own vomit.”

Prince collapsed onto the grass next to the track, and the twins, who were trying to look after him, also threw up with him. It was a miserable situation.

However, sandwiching the proper amount of rest needed between training sessions, the residents of Chikusei-sou gradually became able to keep up with the build-ups and the twenty kilometer cross-country runs. They went to the Showa Memorial Park in Tachikawa, where the qualifiers would take place, and everyone did a trial run of the course.

One day, less than half a month before the qualifiers, Kiyose gathered everyone after they had finished a cross-country run. A chilly wind blew through the open field in the approaching sunset. The tips of the grass had lost their vigor, and there was no trace of summer left. The fruit on the swaying persimmon trees, which no one was picking, were the same color as the setting sun.

“It’s a battle of concentration from now until the qualifiers,” Kiyose said. “Focus and control yourselves so that you’ll be at your peak both physically and mentally on the day.”

“Well that’s easy to say.” Nico-chan sighed. The stress from the tension was giving him an unusually large appetite these days and he was having a hard time regulating himself.

“I feel like my delicate heart has already reached its peak.” King couldn’t help but get stomach cramps during training. “I wonder if I can last until the qualifiers.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Kiyose’s tone was calm, reassuring everyone. “You’ve all done more than enough training; all that’s left to do is use that pressure to hone yourselves. Envision yourself as a beautiful blade running in the qualifiers, and sharpen and polish it well.”

“What a poetic expression,” Yuki said.

“But I get it,” Prince said. “You don’t want to sharpen it too much or you’ll snap before the qualifiers, but if you keep it too dull, it will be useless if the blade still seems cloudy on the day of the competition. It’s something like that, right?”

“Exactly,” Kiyose nodded. “You can’t get there just by recklessly practicing; it’s a battle within yourself. I want you to listen closely to your mind and body, and sharpen yourselves carefully.”

I see, Kakeru thought. This might be one of the strengths that’s required for long-distance.

Long-distance didn’t require explosive power nor was it something that required extreme concentration during a competition to perform a technique—all you did was send forth your legs alternately and plainly moved forward. All you had to do was sustain the simple act of “running”, which most people had experienced, for a set distance. The stamina needed to sustain that was cultivated during daily training.

In spite of that, Kakeru had seen runners whose health broke down during or right before a competition many times: they ran well at first, but suddenly their pace was thrown into disorder; their bodies were in good shape, but three days before the race, their times during practice suddenly stalled; there were those that caught colds even though they were very careful, and ended up getting taken off the lineup on the day of the competition.

Kakeru couldn’t help but feel confused. Practice makes perfect. Why did people ruin themselves when all they had to do was run? Kakeru himself had gotten diarrhea at the last Inter-High he participated in. He hadn’t eaten anything cold or rotten, but his stomach suddenly took a bad turn. He was still able to run, so there were no problems, but he kept wondering, “Of all days, why did I get a stomach ache right before the race?”

He understood now. It was described as a “failure to adjust”. The reason for almost all of them was pressure; the anxiety of suddenly wondering “Is this enough?” no matter how much you trained; the fearful thought of “What if I still lose?” arising as soon as you were confident that it was enough. The more you sharpened your body and mind, the more fragile you became; you got colds and stomach pains more easily, like a precision instrument that breaks down abruptly from just a little bit of dust.

Honing yourself until you were sharp and smooth enough to overcome fear and anxiety and withstand any dust—that power was probably one aspect of the “strength” Kiyose talked about.

Kakeru understood all that, but there was still the question of whether or not he could put it into practice. The more serious you were about running, the less easily you were able to free yourself from pre-competition nerves, and confronting your own body and mind was a very lonely process. You always had to fight alone in the space between compromise and excess.

Kakeru eventually stopped thinking about everything. The more he thought about it, the more fear would arise, because he could only imagine bad things.

People were afraid of ghosts because they thought about and imagined them. Kakeru hated those sorts of ambiguous, vague things; he didn’t want to be bothered by the irritating dullness of “If I think it exists, it exists”, he wanted clarification on whether it was “there” or “not”. Just like being able to move forward if you simply moved your legs, one foot in front of the other.

Kakeru ran without thinking anything. He threw himself into training and repeated the act of “running” as he remembered it with his body. He didn’t know any other way to overcome pressure.

The other members of Chikusei-sou, unlike Kakeru, were inexperienced, so they hadn’t yet established a way to relieve tension. Some, like Kakeru, practiced harder and harder, some burned incense and slept, and some reread sports manga from beginning to end. Everyone was working hard to make their final adjustments for the qualifiers.

With two days to go before the qualifiers, Kakeru felt that his concentration was improving at a good pace.

Practice that day was light, as they shouldn’t be tired on the day of the competition. Of course, each person did their morning and evening jogs, but there was no real practice scheduled on the day before the qualifiers either. They had done everything they had to do, all that was left was relaxing their bodies while keeping an eye on their health while raising their fighting spirits and concentration.

“Let’s do one last finishing touch.”

At Jouji’s suggestion, everyone at Chikusei-sou decided to have a small drinking party two days before the qualifiers. For this group, drinking was the easiest way to relieve tension and solidify their bonds.

The landlord was invited as well, because he was more or less their coach, but there was a problem: the landlord had entrusted Kiyose with the money to fix the hole, but Kiyose had given that money to Shindou to put aside for the Hakone Ekiden; with the transportation and lodging costs, they never had enough money.

As the landlord stepped over the threshold of the front door, Jouta crossed in front of him while looking at the gravure page of a magazine. Distracted by the photo of a woman in a bathing suit, he took off his shoes without looking up at the ceiling and kept close to Jouta as they went upstairs. The tactic was a success. Kakeru and Jouji, watching the situation from the kitchen, gave each other a small high-five.

It was arranged for Prince to sit on top of the hole. You must not stand up as long as the landlord is here, not even if there’s an earthquake or you have to go to the bathroom. Given that strict order by Kiyose and Shindou, Prince obediently hid the hole while reading manga.

“Now, we would like a few words from our coach,” Kiyose said when the liquor was flowing well. The landlord, hugging a large bottle, got up unsteadily. Wondering if he might see him act like a coach for the first time, Kakeru looked forward to what he was going to say.

“It’s finally time for the qualifiers…let me tell you the secret to winning,” the landlord solemnly stated in his hoarse voice. “Move your left and right legs one after the other and go forward!”

The room fell completely silent. The landlord seemed to have sensed the overflowing disappointment and despair.

“…You do that, and you’ll reach your goal one day. That’s all!”

“’That’s all’?!” King roughly put down his cup.

“Is this person okay?” Yuki said.

“Can’t we get a coach who’s a little bit better?” Nico-chan said.

“Ah, my motivation has completely gone down now,” Jouta said.

Quiet unsatisfied voices filled the room. Kakeru hurriedly turned to Kiyose.

“Haiji-san, from the beginning, you believed that this team could definitely make it to Hakone. I thought it was more than impossible, but…why were you so confident?’

“Mm?” Kiyose looked up from his cup and smiled. “Because everyone can handle their liquor.”

“What?”

Everyone immediately stopped complaining about the landlord and now turned to look at Kiyose.

“There are many long-distance runners who can drink a lot. I guess it’s thanks to their internal metabolism. You guys have surpassed being heavy drinkers, you’re bottomless pits, aren’t you? (1) I’ve been observing your drinking habits for a long time and I thought, ‘This could work.’”

“There are plenty of heavy drinkers in the world.”

Shindou looked up at the sky as though to say “I can’t believe this.”

“You dragged people into this thing for that reason!?” Yuki’s voice cracked with anger. Kakeru groaned. He had wanted Kiyose to get everyone motivated again, but it had had the opposite effect.

“Did we really come all this way based only on how much we drink?” Prince, shocked, was about to get up, but Shindou restrained him with his eyes and he hurriedly sat back down. “That’s like building a skyscraper on top of mud with just willpower.”

“Of course that’s not the only reason,” Kiyose said, but his articulation was a bit odd. “I noticed the spark of talent that had been sleeping in all of you.”

“Haiji-san’s drunk,” Kakeru sighed.

“Aaah, isn’t there anything livelier to talk about?” King fell onto the tatami, looking up.

“By the way, how are things with Hanako-san?” Musa asked the twins.

“Hana-chan?”

“What do you mean by things? We get along well?”

The twins both answered innocently.

They don’t know. These guys really don’t know at all. Everyone else muttered to each other.

“By the way, you guys don’t have girlfriends, right?” Nico-chan, who had been nibbling on a piece of dried squid since earlier, said as though it had just occurred to him. “If you do, you’ll have to get them to cheer for us the day after tomorrow.”

It was rare to hear such a topic discussed at Chikusei-sou. Part of it was because their living spaces were so close, they were careful not to deliberately step into each other’s private lives, but it was also because they would all somehow know even without being told expressly.

However, for almost half a year, all of them had been busy training and weren’t able to keep track of each other’s love lives at all. Of course, no one had ever brought their girlfriend to their room before—their conversations and anything else could be overheard, after all.

The twins said, “We’re recruiting one!” in unison. If you’re recruiting, then you should be aware of the existence of applicants, Kakeru thought. King silently curled his back.

“What about you?” Yuki asked Nico-chan.

“I don’t have that kind of energy left right now,” Nico-chan scratched his stubbled chin.

“Same here,” Shindou hung his head. “I’ve been going all around negotiating with the supporters’ association and the school, so I’m afraid that she’ll run out of patience with me soon.”

“You’re dating someone?” Kakeru was surprised. He couldn’t quite connect the reserved and honest Shindou with the brilliance of love.

“Shindou-san has been in a relationship with a woman since he started school,” Musa explained. “It is hopeless for me. I cannot find anyone who will come to my hometown.”

You don’t have to suddenly go all the way there… Kakeru thought.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Kakeru?” Musa asked. Kakeru shook his head.

“I’m not popular, after all.”

“It does not seem that way, though.”

“Um, what about you, Prince-san?” He hurriedly shifted targets, but Prince’s eyes were still on his manga.

“I’m only interested in 2-D girls.”

Even though he was born with an idol-like face, it was like pearls before swine. Prince glanced at Kiyose.

“Leaving that aside, I sometimes hear rumors about Haiji-san in the literature department, you know? He looks like that, but there’s all kinds of…Ow!”

Crying out in pain slightly, Prince shut his mouth. A peanut flicked by Kiyose had hit him right between the eyebrows. There was no one brave enough to press Kiyose more than that.

Kiyose laughed slightly and asked, “What about Yuki?”

“I’ve got prospects, a good personality and my looks aren’t bad? Of course I have one,” Yuki answered calmly. King curled himself up more and more.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” As the landlord was pouring shochu into his teacup right to the brim, a phone rang. It was Yuki’s. Excuse me, Yuki said and left the room.

“What, was that his girlfriend again?” Nico-chan said. Kakeru also noticed that Yuki’s phone had been ringing a lot these days.

“But Yuki has been looking somewhat somber recently, has he not?” Musa tilted his head in worry.

King seemed to have decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. “There’s no ice,” he said, shaking the empty bowl. Kakeru, who was near the door, stood up and said, “I’ll go get some.”

He went downstairs and saw that the entrance’s sliding door was open, and that Yuki was outside on the phone. He could hear his voice slightly. It seemed like he was arguing about something, and although Kakeru was curious, he crept into the kitchen, concealing his footsteps so that he wouldn’t disturb him.

He transferred the ice into the bowl and refilled the fridge’s ice maker with water. Judging by the way everyone was drinking, it might not be ready in time. Kakeru turned the fridge’s temperature knob to “strong” and left the kitchen with the bowl. 

The front door was still open. But there was no sound of talking. After some hesitation, Kakeru put on his sandals and peeked outside.

Yuki was squatting next to the door, looking up at the night sky.

“I made ice,” Kakeru called out to him softly. “Let’s go back and keep drinking with everyone.”

“‘Kay,” Yuki answered, but he made no attempt to stand up. He looked absentminded, his left hand gripping his phone.

“Did you get some kind of bad news?” Kakeru stepped over the threshold and squatted down next to Yuki while holding the bowl.

“No,” Yuki said. “My parents saw the news story and nagged me about showing up back home once in a while.”

“Where do you live?”

“Tokyo.”

If that’s the case, then it wouldn’t take much time to go back home, and there’s no need for him to lodge in a rundown apartment like Chikusei-sou in the first place. That reminds me, Yuki-senpai said he didn’t go back home for New Year’s, Kakeru recalled, and sensed that there were some circumstances behind it.

Insects were buzzing loudly in the grass of the yard.

“Kakeru, why aren’t you excited about getting interviewed?” Yuki asked.

“Umm,” Kakeru said. “I’m resented a lot. I think my parents and the guys from my high school team probably don’t want to see my face, so that’s why: I want to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“You’ve been through a lot, I see. I thought you were just a track maniac,” Yuki’s words were biting, but he didn’t pry any deeper.

“Thanks to being a track maniac, I ended up having to keep secretly running away from interviews,” Kakeru laughed.

Noise suddenly erupted from the twins’ room. There were sounds of people running around and shouting something.

“What’s going on?” Kakeru and Yuki looked overhead and stood up.

The window facing the yard opened. “Yuki! Are you there!” Kiyose shouted.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Call an ambulance!” Kiyose recognized Kakeru and Yuki and waved his arms to hurry them. “The landlord’s throwing up blood!”

Kiyose got on the ambulance and accompanied the landlord to the hospital, and then finally returned to Chikusei-sou some time after the next day had already started.

The early to bed and early to rise routine was so ingrained in everyone that they couldn’t keep their eyes open, but they were all worried about the landlord’s condition, so they had stayed up and waited. Kiyose, surrounded by the residents at the entrance, gloomily told them the news with a tired expression.

“He’s got a stomach ulcer, so he’ll stay in hospital for a week. Apparently the reason is stress from extreme nervousness.”

“Stress!?” Jouji shouted hysterically. “Why was he stressed?”

“He was a carefree coach with no sense of responsibility though?” Jouta tilted his head. He definitely just drank too much, Kakeru thought.

“I also have a lot of questions about the reason, but…the landlord was probably worrying about us in his own way,” Kiyose rubbed his temple. “For that reason, the day after tomorrow—or rather, tomorrow—we will do the qualifiers without the coach there.”

“I don’t really mind, though.”

“It’s not like he’s ever there.”

The twins stated their candid thoughts, and Kakeru nodded.

“Didn’t you say we can count on him when we need it?” Kakeru muttered.

“I said ‘probably,’” Kiyose responded, and as though to say “good grief,” took off the hoodie he had on.

Previous | Next

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Pretty Girl | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader (she/her)

✦ word count — 3.9k

✦ request — I was wondering a Older Damien Wayne x plus size shy reader, where they were friends since young and were each other’s first and broken up. Now older they meet up at their high school reunion and maybe Damien still loves her and her being a shy, jealous person when meeting his date. And idk if you do this but if so maybe smut after the end

✦ warnings — angst, a little bit of jealousy, nsfw, smut, it’s talked about beforehand but still: unprotected sex (please don’t do this), vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), fluff.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You were regretting having let Jon convince you to attend a high school reunion. There wasn’t a single person you wanted to see that you hadn’t met up with prior to the event.

Jon said it would be a good opportunity to relive fun experiences. He promised he’d be with you the entire time. And he kept his promise — until Damian arrived.

Your anxiety spiked up, Jon could hear it clearly. He could also hear Damian’s heartbeat when he saw you. Swallowing harshly upon realizing the youngest member of the Wayne family had brought a date, you excused yourself.

Both Jon and Damian followed you with their eyes. Jon shook his head, aware of what was going on. He of course couldn’t burst into the bathroom and console you, Jon had done it a few times throughout high school when Damian wasn’t around for whatever reason and your nerves got the best of you but this time it would look like something else since you guys had arrived together.

Ever the shy sweet girl, you had often told him he shouldn’t worry. But Jon cared, and he could see how the predicament of physically following you was tearing Damian apart too.

Jon greeted Damian and his date curtly, only with a nod. Glaring at his best friend, he motioned for him to follow him to a more private area.

Faking a smile, Damian asked his date to wait for him.

“What do you think you are doing?!”

“Attending the reunion you told me I couldn’t skip. I assumed you would be happy.”

“You’re so full of crap.” Jon shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest. He had always been able to read Damian like a book, the same way Clark did with Bruce — his powers helped, but he didn’t need them, not when Damian was more expressive than he presumed.

Damian gave it all away by staring at the hallway, fixing his eyes on the door he had hidden behind with you multiple times.

“Aaaaand you’re a moron,” Jon added.

He would never say it out loud, but Damian knew Jon was right. Walking past his best friend, whom he genuinely adored and appreciated, Damian went back to his date. She was chatting up with people like she had known them for years.

They quieted down when he arrived, solemnly nodding their heads in attempts of greeting him respectfully. He searched the room for your best friend, forgetting that she had moved out for college and never returned to Gotham.

He acknowledged his date by name, “Would you do me a favor?”

Nodding, she listened carefully as he guided her away from the curious people.

You wondered if there was something wrong with you. Not with the way you looked or anything like that, just… just with you. Shyness had never gone away like your parents hoped when you were a child, and it had never bothered you until now.

Your chest tightened more and more at a fast pace. It felt different from anything you had experienced before. Huffing out, you leaned on your forearms against the skin and looked at your reflection in the mirror.

A blurry face was the only thing you found. Blinking rapidly, your reflection only turned blurrier. The bathroom felt hot, you would have broken into a sweat if you hadn’t been wearing a dress.

The bathroom door creaked open, startling you. You had expected to see a former classmate, giving you a tight smile and a pitiful look. You would’ve preferred that.

Damian’s date closed the door behind her. “Are you alright?” her voice was gruff, but you could tell the question had been genuine.

You nodded, avoiding her eyes. “The second stall is the best,” you murmured.

She ignored your comment and went straight to the point. “Could you please come out?”

How dare Jon send her to convince you? Hadn’t he realized the reason you couldn’t stay there was because you were miserably jealous?

The door opened again, that time you saw the ex-cheerleader captain enter. As you had predicted, she smiled at you and gave you a pitiful look — her eyes focused on the woman accompanying you for a fleeting moment, in how different the two of you were.

Feeling your throat lock up, you nodded again at Damian’s date. She opened the door for you, letting you out first.

Damian was outside the bathroom, with his hands behind his back and his attention solely on the door. His date walked past him without sparing him a glance, but you couldn’t.

You had never been able to ignore him and his magnetic aura, the hope of that changing vanished the second you saw him enter the gymnasium.

Unconsciously, you looked for Jon. It was unusual for him not to be around Damian. Feeling the familiar weight of Damian’s gaze on your face, you stood beside him.

“She’s pretty,” you told him honestly in a rasp, avoiding his eyes.

She was, everyone thought so. He felt shitty for bringing her there, not because he had lied to her or anything but because he had been right and you would react harshly. It was all he wanted, a reaction from you, a sign no matter how small that you were still interested.

“Jon’s not ugly,” he countered, fully aware that you weren’t dating his best friend.

Shrugging, you put more distance between the two of you. “Have a nice evening,” you wished him before walking away.

You couldn’t do it. Being around him hurt more than it should have. Relationships ended all the time, yours had expired because that was how life worked. There hadn’t been bad blood between you, but now you wished it had.

When you entered the bathroom to stay away from the gorgeous couple you partially had done so to make up an excuse to leave. Jon wouldn’t believe it, but he could never stay mad at you so it didn’t matter.

Still having feelings for a high school sweetheart was something out of romantic comedies. Everything about your relationship with Damian had been, to be completely honest. Childhood friends, the popular guy and the shy chubby girl, a sad break up that she didn’t get over of when he had moved on.

You had dated people after him, but every relationship had fizzled out for a reason. And the reason was green eyes and cocky smiles. You had lied to yourself and blamed it on your social skills, you weren’t outgoing enough and it was a turn-off for some — but the truth, the truth was worse, it had never been a turn-off nor a problem for anyone because you knew how to choose your partners. They simply weren’t Damian Wayne.

Waving goodbye at Jon from afar, you failed to notice you were being followed until you reached the parking lot.

“(Y/N), come on.”

You had missed the tone he used when saying your name. It hadn’t changed since you last heard it.

“I have things to—“

“You can't lie to me,” Damian cut you off.

“Uhmmm, could you just… leave me alone?”

He knew you didn’t mean it. “No.” Damian grabbed you from the wrist upon seeing the hesitance on your face. “Can we talk?”

“Not a good idea.”

He hated your short answers and the fact that you didn’t seem to trust him anymore. Fuck, he should’ve listened to Jon. To Jon from all people in his life!

“Please? There’s a new coffee shop nearby, it won’t take long.”

“I don’t want your girlfriend to think anything bad.”

Damian sighed deeply. He would sound pathetic. Fuck it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Oh. So he had fully moved on, then.

He saw heartbreak in your shifty eyes and couldn’t stop regret from overwhelming him. You weren’t able to speak, too surprised by the revelation to try and hide it anymore. She was everything you envisioned him with, pretty and mysterious with smooth skin and cold eyes.

God, maybe you had never been enough for his standards and now it was catching up on you. Or maybe his taste had changed. Either way, you couldn’t do anything about it.

Snatching your hand off his grip, you continued your path toward the street. Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the parking lot, like they used to after having to do a presentation in front of the entire class when you were a teenager.

The difference was that Damian had been there to steady you. He’d always tell you how well everything had gone and how proud he was — no one believed he could be that tender or attentive but you had seen it with your own eyes and felt it at every level of the word.

He hadn’t tried to run after you this time. A part of you had wished for it to happen, it would have been nice to not feel like you were drowning in your one-sided very much alive romantic feelings. Who even loves someone for that long?! You had never thought it would be possible, how could it when Damian and you had fallen out of love? Turns out only he had.

You reached your apartment complex in one piece, walking slower than you had intended and forcing yourself not to cry. The empty elevator, usually comforting, felt way too big.

As the doors slid open, you stepped outside with the intention of calling your best friend. Telling her she had been right would be everything but fun, and telling her it would have been easier if she was there would hurt.

Turning the lights on, you kicked your shoes off and walked directly to the kitchen. You needed a glass of wine — or the entire bottle, yes, that.

“Did you really forget to doublecheck for intruders like I taught you?”

You jumped, dropping the glass in your grasp. Damian was behind you in a second, apologizing for startling you.

“What are you doing here?”

Glass shards crushed under his shoes as he shifted. “I need to talk to you.”

You stood on your toes, trying not to hurt yourself as you stared down at the shattered cup to assess how to get away from the shards without touching Damian.

“Could you uh… move?”

“Will you leave me here standing like an idiot?”

It took you a moment to shake your head.

As you cleaned, he snooped around. He had never been inside your apartment. Damian had been about to drop by once, but he decided it would be for the best if he stayed away. He had only lied to himself with good intentions that hurt him more in the long term.

He still kept tabs on you. His siblings laughed, saying he was whipped after all those years. Only his father understood the way he felt, perhaps because Bruce himself had gone through that with Selina or because he was glad his son was finally comfortable with being human and the vulnerability it came with. The truth was more simple: he cared about you and there was nothing he could do to stop that.

Every time he had heard you were dating someone else it broke his heart. He had dated around too, but much less than you had — he didn’t have time for non-committing relationships, and he didn’t want a committed relationship with anyone but you.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked when you joined him in the living room.

“No,” you mumbled.

That should have been the moment where you offered him something to drink, but you were hoping the visit wouldn’t extend for more than five minutes.

Damian wasn’t sure how to touch upon the subject. Small talk wasn’t his thing and you had always felt uncomfortable with it so that wasn’t an option. Why couldn’t he just say it bluntly? That was his specialty, you had always giggled at how unsubtle he was.

“I still love you.”

“Is that why you’re getting married?”

“What?” Fuck, he had been such an idiot for not explaining himself with the proper words. “I am not.”

“Oh.” You made a pause, staring down at your lap where you let your hands drop. “Well, you took her as your date to something important and you said she wasn’t your girlfriend so…”

He didn’t consider a high school reunion as important, but he easily kept that to himself. “I thought you would take someone else when Jon told me you would be there,” he explained, “I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of everybody, that’s it.”

Well, he made you look like one instead.

Damian rounded the coffee table in the middle of the living room to sit down next to you.

“Look at me?” You denied him. “(Y/N).” Still no reaction. “Beloved, please?”

Your breath hitched. His heart almost melted right there. Carefully, Damian placed his knuckles under your chin and pushed it upward. He then softly cupped your cheek, feeling the acceleration of your heart rate as your jugular jumped under the tip of his middle finger.

You finally stared into his eyes. Hundreds of times you had gotten lost in them — before your first kiss, throughout the first time he made love to you, the first time you were introduced as his girlfriend… his eyes had always grounded you while letting you drown in them.

“Tell me you still love me,” he pleaded.

“I don’t think I have to say it,” you admitted. It was painfully obvious he still knew you perfectly.

“I need to hear it.”

Not strong enough to deny him, you whispered, “I still love you.”

His mouth was on yours immediately. He kissed you fervently as his free hand rested on your thigh while one of your own flew to the back of his neck. Damian was elated with the effusiveness you were kissing him back, holding his head in place and taking control of the kiss completely.

It had been so long since he had you for the last time that he had forgotten what arousal really felt like. His senses were too alive as your tongue explored his mouth, dizzying him with every sigh that escaped you.

Your fingers trailed down his torso, slowly yet firm. He caressed your thigh, so soft and tempting. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth on them again. In consequence, the bruising kiss came to an end — you bit down his bottom lip, pulling on it as you stared into his eyes.

Damian grunted, withdrawing his hand from your face to grip your waist. Your hands slid down in reaction, the one on his nape to his back and the one on his stomach to his crotch. His bulge twitched under the weight of your warm palm.

He sighed your name, aching for your touch. It was borderline pathetic how easily you got him going. You leaned in to kiss his jaw, not taking your hand off his crotch but not applying more pressure either — Damian moved his head so he could kiss you on the mouth, impatient to get more of you.

“You don’t know how much I want you,” he interrupted the kiss to say, wet mouth on top of yours as he spoke.

You giggled, cupping his bulge. “I think I do.”

His grunt sent chills down your spine. Damian’s grip on your waist tightened as he pushed you to lay down on the couch. His lips were immediately on yours again, sloppily kissing you while his palms dragged up your thighs. Reaching the rim of your skirt, he stopped to ask for permission to lift it.

You granted it to him, nodding as your nose brushed his. He slipped his hands under the material first, taking his time to trace your thighs.

“I missed you so much,” he said against your jaw before dragging his lips down your neck.

You angled your neck, giving him as much access as he needed. Feeling his smile on your skin, you started to unbutton his shirt, struggling to get past the middle. Damian’s fingers brushed your clothed core, making you whine loudly.

Bunching your skirt up, he pressed his knuckles against your core, using his other hand to hold the skirt so it wouldn’t fall. You pushed him off you, sitting up and eventually standing off the couch.

Assessing you would take the dress off, Damian finished the job you had started with his shirt, with urgency, throwing it to the side. He was about to start undoing his pants when he caught the sight in front of him.

There had always been something stupidly hot about seeing you in mismatched underwear. You looked down at your body, just to check what it was he was staring at. You hadn’t really paid attention to what you were wearing when you left the apartment, too unmotivated to attend the reunion to really care. It had ended up playing in your favor. Good one, (Y/N).

The sound of his pants being unzipped ignited something in the pit of your stomach. Out of reflex, you rubbed your legs against each other.

You assumed he would stand up when he kicked his shoes off and discarded his pants, but Damian instead got into his knees, placing his hands on your back. Trailing open-mouthed kisses over your thigh, from the outside to the inside, he pulled your panties down, giving you mere seconds to kick them to the side. He used to finger you first, but this time around he skipped it — probably because you were too aroused already. Pulling you toward his face as he grabbed you by the ass, his mouth latched onto your clit.

Gasping in pleasure at the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance, you gripped his hair. Damian buried his face between your thighs, letting you pull him as closely as you needed. His nose bumped against your clit, tongue dipping into your entrance.

You moaned his name, tugging on his hair. He swiped his tongue upward, shifting his face to now suck on your clit. Your hand slid down to the base of his neck to which you held onto, closing your eyes tightly when his finger brushed your entrance from behind.

“Okay,” you breathlessly said, pulling his face from between your thighs. “I need you.”

Teasing you was far from his head. Damian jumped to his feet, meeting your mouth in a needy kiss as he guided you back to the couch. You tasted yourself in his hot tongue, parting from him only to find you weren’t satisfied and kissing him again.

Damian almost ripped his underwear off, too eager to really care. Kneeling between your thighs, he stared down at you as he asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you assured him, a little abashed. “Unless you’re not—“

“I’m clean.”

“Cool.”

He snorted, brushing his tip up and down your slit as he held his shaft on his hand. “Ready?”

You nodded, bucking your hips up and pursing your lips in excitement. Damian entered you slowly, leaning over at the same pace. With his face in your cleavage, he waited for you to get used to him again.

“Fuck,” he cursed through a groan. You were warm around him, walls clenching up in reflex as your chest heaved over his face.

Placing your hands on his biceps, you whispered for him to move. He complied, huffing in pleasure on your skin. Sucking on the uncovered parts of your chest, Damian let his hands trace your sides for a moment.

It wasn’t enough for either of you. He shifted, leaving a kiss on your lips as he pulled away from your torso. Still connected with you, Damian gripped your hips and started a quicker pace.

Grabbing your thighs, he pulled you closer to have you rest your calves on his shoulders. The new angle made you squeal. He would draw blood from his bottom lip if he continued biting, but he couldn’t stop himself. His initial plan had been to take his time but it was getting harder to follow said plan.

Gripping the edge of the back of the couch, you gazed up at him. “It’s okay,” you breathed out, “go faster.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, Damian pulled his hips back only to slam into you. You had really missed the burn only he could give you, rocking into you faster the more you tightened around him.

He ghosted your clit with his thumb, circling it lightly as he found a rhythm with his hips. Cursing as you arched your back, you bucked against his thumb and cock.

His moans were like music to your ears, eyes clenched shut and Adam’s Apple bobbing as his thrusts grew sloppy. Your head fell back with a particularly deep thrust, the strangled moan coming out of your mouth only prompting him to move his thumb faster.

He had you leaving out a string of whimpers rather quickly. Your reaction went straight to his cock, ragging his breathing as your walls clenched at every stroke of his cock against them.

Opening his eyes as he felt sweat drip down the side of his face, Damian hovered over your equally sweaty body, kissing you through your orgasm. Your hands flew to his shoulders where you sunk your nails in attempts of keeping him close, repeating his name between short kisses as he relentlessly fucked you.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he moaned as your walls squeezed his cock.

Your mouth hung open after a long whimper, you just couldn’t take it anymore. He watched as your pretty face contorted in pleasure under him, hands sliding down his biceps as you came undone around his throbbing cock.

He called your name through a cry, resting his forehead on yours. “You wanna cum?” you whispered a question, feeling him twitch inside you.

“Shit,” he groaned, nose bumping yours, “yes.”

Cupping his face, you hummed. Damian’s muscles tightened under your touch and over your soft body as he finished inside you, warm cum coating your walls.

He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath. Eventually, he slipped out of you slowly. You whimpered, feeling cum drip down your folds. Damian smirked in satisfaction upon noticing the semen flowing down your thigh.

“White door to your right,” you instructed him. “There are clean towels under the sink.”

Handing you a damp towel, he waited for you to take it to then withdraw his cellphone.

“Gotta go?”

He shook his head. “Letting Dick know I’m fine.”

You reached for your panties, standing up in order to slip them on. Damian pouted, dropping the mobile device onto the couch as his hands were placed on your waist.

“I love you,” he said.

You said it back, having missed telling him just because you could. “I love you more.”

He could have fought you on it, but he preferred kissing you softly, breaking into a smile in the middle of the kiss when you wrapped your arms around him. You dropped your head onto his chest as the kiss ended, leaving a peck on his sternum.

Sliding his hands toward your lower back, tracing it up, he stopped at the clasp of your bra. Damian whined, “We didn’t even take this off!”

Giggling on his skin, you slightly parted from him to gaze up. He lifted both eyebrows suggestively, making you roll your eyes. Placing your hands on the sides of his torso to put more distance between his body and yours, you told him, “I need a nap first.”

He took a hand off your back to motion for you to lead the way to your bedroom, never not in the mood for cuddling you.