#my best guess is that it's the keyboard i started hearing last friday

[orcelito]

Wrote tha note to put on their door in the morning.

Do u think my sleep deprived frustration is evident lol

[ashasmonsters]

The Skateboarder

Female reader x Female orc (Morn)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: brief alcohol, stupid memes

Words: 9k

Morn reached between the legs of some intertwined partygoers, retrieved a beer from the strategically placed cooler, then opened it on the strike plate of the living room door. Some of it foamed out and fell on the carpet with the bottle cap but she didn't seem to care. The owners of the sorority house didn't care either.

"...so yeah, she said I stank and got up and left." Morn finished her tale of an attempted one-night stand.

"She didn't even touch you yet?" You asked, leaning in close so she could hear you over the thumping music. As was usual for parties like these, you and Morn had carved out a corner where you could be ignored by everyone else and gossip.

"Well, yeah, but not below the belt. That's what pissed me off. She was all over me all night and as soon as I say I want her to go down on me, she insults me and leaves."

"I mean..." you grinned, unable to resist, "did you stink down there, though?"

Morn punched your shoulder and chuckled.

"Fuck off, it's not like roses and daffodils are the norm. You know, it's like I always say..." It was Morn's turn to grin mischievously.

"Don't fucking say it. I swear to God, Morn. I'm going to laugh really hard and everyone's going to look at me weird. " You pleaded. You knew what would come next; Morn's favorite turn of phrase that she managed to use more often than one would think.

"—like I always say, good pussy smells like the heat coming out of the PS4."

You were true to your word. As you caught your breath between peals of laughter, a few partygoers did in fact stare at you. Despite your prior protests, the stares didn't bother you that much. Here in Morn's gossip corner, all that mattered was whiling the time away until the other half of your group was ready to leave. Dera's whereabouts were unknown but Lash was visible in the corner of the room.

"Looks like Lash's plan is all coming together." You noted. Morn turned to look as well; she was aggressively making out with an Elf boy. He licked her tusks. You grimaced.

"Goddamn. When Lash wants something she gets it."

"She mentioned that guy... what, like, yesterday?" You asked. "From staring at him across the classroom to heavy petting in less than twenty-four hours. That's a new record."

"Makes me feel like I'm not even the same species," Morn complained, finally turning away from Lash's public display of affection. "I know Orc boldness is a stereotype but it's not one I'd mind living up to."

"That's not Orc boldness, that's Lash boldness," you chortled. "Don't be down on yourself for not having it. Besides, she's not looking for a one-night deal; if that Elf doesn't call her back tomorrow she's gonna have her week ruined."

"I guess that's true..." Morn sighed.

"Morn." You firmly squeezed her shoulder and stared at her. "I love Lash to death, but you've never called me at three in the morning crying over the end of a week-and-a-half-long relationship. It's okay to not be dating a new person all the time."

"Yeah, I know." She finished her beer and smiled a bit.

"Besides, if you were hunting down an object of desire every time we were at a party, I'd have no one to chill with. Morn's Gossip Corner is the only thing getting me out of the dorm on Friday nights."

"I'm glad to be of service." She dramatically saluted. "You're right, though. I guess it's just the party atmosphere that makes me forget sleeping around and dating have drawbacks."

"Definitely the party vibe getting to you," you affirmed. "Speaking of sleeping around, though... where's Dera?"

"If I had to guess, upstairs. Text her." Morn suggested.

You pulled out your phone and opened the group chat, aptly titled "THA HOOLIGANZ 👩‍💻👩‍✈️👩‍⚕️🕵️‍♀️" and sent a message:

You: dera where tf are u, its almost been an hour

Almost immediately the indicator that Dera was typing popped up, followed by her reply:

Dera: upstairs. firbolg football player. huge 🍆

"Oh, god." You gagged. Morn pulled out her phone in response to see the cause, then had a similar reaction. She started tapping away at her phone's keyboard.

Morn: damn, dera, chill. we just wanted to make sure you were ok.

The typing indicator preceded yet another reply from Dera.

Dera: lol ok mom

"She's got an attitude tonight, sheesh." Morn shook her head and put her phone away.

"I think tonight an early exit might be a good idea. Dera and Lash seem pretty occupied," you said. You couldn't find Lash or her Elven paramour in the room anymore.

"I think you're right. Text the group and tell 'em we're leaving."

You nodded and did so, receiving 👍 responses from both Dera and Lash after a short pause.

"Let's go." You got up from your place on the sunken-in couch and helped Morn up. The two of you navigated through the fire code-violating sorority house to the front door, where you met the cool night air and the odor of cigarettes. Morn's skateboard was next to yours, propped against the thick trunk of a long-dead tree.

"I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet. It's not that late," Morn said, checking her watch.

"Pizza?" You suggested.

"Pizza."

Before long you were both skating into the night. The entire university town was built into the side of a mountain with the greek life houses at the top, making it a breeze to fashionably exit parties like this one. There were a few drunken revelers to dodge on the way down, but once you cleared the sororities and fraternities it was smooth skating. The incandescent streetlights flew past as century-old houses gave way to newer corner stores and parks. Before long, you and Morn were skating through the thick of the city on a course set for Main Street.

The pleasant sound of plastic wheels on stamped concrete was soon married with the aroma of cheap, indulgent pizza. You wouldn't have needed any senses other than smell to know you arrived at your destination: "Get Stuffed," the type of place where a slice was a dollar and you could write on the walls. As was usual for the time when Friday became Saturday, it was packed with the university crowd; too packed to even sit inside.

You and Morn shimmied to the counter and ordered your usuals. Fortunately, Get Stuffed had nailed speedy service and it was only a few short moments before you were on your way out with greasy pizza on flimsy paper plates. You set your skateboards on the curb and sat on them, side-by-side.

"Thanks for fleeing with me," Morn said, folding her slice of pizza and tucking her loose black curls behind her ear.

"Anytime, Morn." You mimicked her pizza fold before noticing something about the beanie she wore. It was oddly familiar, so you delayed your first bite. "Hey, where's that beanie from?" Morn looked at you, chewing.

"This thing?" She tugged at the chunky burgundy yarn. "You should know."

"I should know?" You mused, finally chewing on your first bite of pizza. It was just as greasy and gratifying as you expected it to be. Then, as realization dawned on you, it almost fell out of your mouth. "You kept that thing for this long?!"

"Of course. It's a good beanie. It's lasted... what, since second grade?" She smirked. "It's one of the best birthday gifts I've gotten. Thanks, by the way."

"Thank you for holding onto it," you countered. "The memories... wow."

"That was the birthday party where we had a sleepover afterward. We played tag, and—"

"Oh, no," you moaned, remembering.

"...you ran so hard that you threw up." Morn giggled. Your cheeks still burned at the vivid memory. You almost forgot crocheting Morn's beanie, but you never forget throwing up at someone's birthday party.

"It's crazy we've been friends for so long." You gracefully changed the subject and started working on your pizza slice in earnest.

"It's not that crazy. You've always been there for me."

"I mean... I try..." you were hiding your blush, feeling warm as Morn readied to shower you with compliments.

"Like the time Chrissie Becker rejected my invitation to prom. You started crying when I started crying, and I hadn't even told you what happened yet." Morn giggled warmly. "Or when our families went camping together and you let me share your sleeping bag when I forgot mine."

"I couldn't just let you sleep on the ground!" you sheepishly defended yourself against the flattery.

"Even though you knew I kicked in my sleep." Morn looked up from her plate and smiled at you, her tusks glinting under the streetlights.

"You're more important to me than my shins," you said quietly.

"Hah!" Morn laughed heartily, bumping her skateboard into yours and wrapping an arm around you. "You're more important to me than my shins."

In Morn's embrace there on the sidewalk, you melted. She had such a way of effortlessly making you feel safe and loved. She had been there for you as well several times and was damn good at it. You enjoyed the feeling so much that you just sat there quietly until she got a little worried.

"Hey, did I tease you too much?" Her wry grin had been replaced with a slight frown and sympathetic brow.

"No, no..." you reassured her, savoring the dreamy feeling. "It's all good. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad we're... friends," you stumbled a bit over the last word.

"Me too," she gave your shoulder a little squeeze.

You both finished your pizza in silence, enjoying each others' side and the ambiance of the city street. After a moment you both tossed the greasy plates into a trash can and skateboarded back to the dorms. The courtyard was where your paths diverged, and after bidding one another goodnight and farewell, you parted. You shared your bed that night with a familiar feeling. Embarrassment, shame, and maybe even guilt. All for the way your heart skipped a beat when she put an arm around you, or the unstoppable smile when she recounted her memories of you. You weren't super familiar with love, at least not in the way Lash and Dera were, but the way Morn made you feel in recent months was more than simple friendship. You agonized over the thought that she wouldn't return those feelings. It was a miracle you managed to sleep at all.

Saturday morning arrived, and with it, a text. You groggily pulled your phone into bed with you to read it after rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It was from THA HOOLIGANZ.

Dera: hey sorry about my sass last nite. i figured y'all left early and that's cool, i was kinda doing my own thing anyway

Lash: LOL sameeee. anyway, does anyone want to meet up for coffee or something? i’d rather be hungover around you guys than my parents 😭

You considered the offer; it would be nice to actually see Lash and Dera after missing them last night. Your moment on the curb with Morn still bothered you, and a distraction from that would be nice.

You: im down, where u wanna go

Dera: u know that cute little cafe on that corner? main street i think?? the one thats literally 100% pink???

Morn: you're thinking of tokidoki cafe! i'm down to go, that’s my spot!

You sighed. This outing wouldn't be very good for distracting you from Morn if Morn was seated across from you.

Dera: thats the one. lets gooooooo

Lash: yes. literally right now. start running

Morn: thanks, but I think I'll skate there. see y'all in a bit

You: same

The morning air was crisp and cool in the way spring mornings always were. It was a shame Lash and Dera were too busy downing aspirin and chugging water to truly enjoy it. Your skateboard served you well as a means of transport on mornings like this; you and your friends were the rare few students who didn't usually sleep in on Saturdays, so you enjoyed the empty sidewalks. The soft plastic wheels gripped the concrete well enough to accommodate any street corners.

The cafe was 100% pink, as promised. The sweet, pillowy smell of crepes mingled with the robust aroma of coffee and met you as you hopped off your skateboard. The tiny size of the place made it easy to tell you were the first to arrive. You ordered the latte-crepe combo that took up the most space on the menu and sat while you waited. You were idly scrolling through your phone when you heard the rhythmic thumping of a skateboard wheels on slabs of sidewalk.

She looked painfully good as she stepped through the cafe's front door. The morning sun made her long black hair golden around the edges and she still wore that damn beanie. Her tusks poked out from her smiling lips when her eyes met yours. Illuminated by sunbeams, her well-toned arm showed every muscle and vein as she gripped her skateboard by the trucks to carry it in.

"Good morning!" she beamed at you. The employee behind the counter smiled at her knowingly.

"The usual, Morn?" he asked.

"Yep!" She quickly answered before sitting across from you, the pins on her denim jacket jingling. "You got here quickly."

"Yeah..." you answered weakly, your conversational skills still recovering from the way Morn held you last night.

"You weren't drinking last night, were you? You alright?" Of course, Morn immediately picked up that something was the matter. It would be stranger if she didn't.

"I'm fine. Where are Lash and Dera?" You deflected. As if on cue, your phone buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ chimed in.

Lash: lol srry, throwing up. cant make it

Dera: yeah same.

"Unbelievable. Those girls can't seem to show up anywhere lately." Morn had a slightly disapproving tone. She tapped away on her phone.

Morn: this is going on your attendance sheet

Lash: see u in detention, dera

Dera: enjoy your crepes you two!

You chuckled at the exchange.

"That's more like it. I like when you smile." Morn chimed in. "Do more of that."

The waiter saved you from needing to respond by stopping at your table with your orders. A steaming, folded crepe landed before you covered in a sauce just as pink as the rest of the cafe. A warm latte arrived with it and you wrapped your hands around the warm mug. It soothed you a little.

"Morn..." you began, not quite sure what you were going to say. Was this it? Were you going to lay your feelings on the table right here, right now?

"What is it? You can tell me anything." Morn leaned in over the table. "I can tell something's been bothering you lately."

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn't even know how to begin; should you preface it with an apology? Some sort of explanation or disclaimer?

"I don't even know if I can tell you. Like, if I can get the words out," you said before sipping your latte. You savored the taste, hoping the espresso would ground you somehow. At the very least you wouldn't be expected to talk with your mouth full.

"There's no rush. I just... I want to help. I've known you long enough that I'm sure there's something I can do." Morn hadn't even touched her crepe yet.

"Let's just, um, eat." You answered.

"Good idea. I'm sure you'll feel like yourself once you've eaten and the coffee starts kicking in." Morn nodded to herself, cutting open her fruit-filled crepe. You similarly started to work on yours. The two of you ate in silence and, for a moment, you did feel better. Fully focusing on the aromas, flavors, and textures of your breakfast stilled your trembling hands. The slightest bit of confidence grew within you halfway through the meal.

"I... um..." the words slowly formed in your mouth. Morn paused, setting down her fork and knife and looking at you intently. "I fell in love. With someone I don't think I should be in love with."

Morn listened but said nothing. She was thinking.

"How do you know it's love?"

"What?" you asked.

"How do you know it's not just a crush? Or, you know, lust?" Morn inquired. You considered the question carefully. Memories of platonic cuddles, impromptu sleepovers, and late-night conversations with Morn came to mind.

"It's love because it's lasted way longer than any crush. I trust this person, and they trust me. I'm not like Lash, pining for the new guy from across the classroom; I know this person really well."

"I see." She paused again. "Why would it be bad to love them? Wouldn't a good history make a romantic relationship easier?"

"Only if they felt the same way..." you sighed and nestled your head in your elbows.

"Ah, right..." Morn looked sheepish. "Well, personally—and I do mean personally, so it might not apply to them—if I had a long-time friend that I had feelings for, I would just tell them."

"Really?" Your eyes widened.

"I mean, yeah. If I and this person had such a long history of trust, then I would trust them to still be friends with me afterward if they didn't feel the same way. I'm sure it would be awkward for a while, but I really don't think it would be, you know... destructive or anything."

More memories came to you. More times where you felt completely open and vulnerable with Morn, and when she did with you. Times when you comforted each other and shared secrets under blanket forts and playground swings and gymnasium bleachers. Words formed inside your mouth, desperate to make themselves known to the world. Perhaps now would become another one of these memories. You'd look back on it in the future and remember the smell of pink crepes in the pink cafe.

"Morn... I have these feelings for you. I'm talking about you."

You fought the urge to cover your mouth, and you didn't stutter or stammer in the slightest. Though working up the courage was difficult, letting the words go was one of the easiest things you had ever done. Morn didn't react much; an eyebrow rose slowly as she finished chewing. The silence was agonizing.

"I'm happy you trust me enough to share that with me," Morn said calmly. You wanted to shout that's all?! but held your tongue. She took a sip of her latte, clearly in no rush to say more.

"So..." you began, well and truly lost. All your effort had gone into mustering courage and now you had nothing left. Even your anxiety and worry had gone, and you were strangely content, though eager, to hear Morn speak.

"So..." Morn parroted, "does that mean you want to... you know, date me? Like, romantic dates, not besties dates. Kissing dates."

Again, your impulses screamed duh!

"Um, yeah..." you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'd like that, but... only if you'd like that too."

She sipped her latte again, still calm.

"You know, over the years, I've imagined what we would be like if we were romantic with each other. Like, girlfriend-girlfriends. How could I not? We've known each other for so long."

You nodded, bidding her speak more.

"I never knew you wanted that. I can't imagine how you felt; I could tell something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what." Morn set the mug and her cutlery down, intentionally and warmly looking you in the eye. "I think...

You didn't even breathe.

"I think we should give it a shot." Morn smiled widely. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes, yes it does," you finally drew breath. If Morn was feeling a similar tumult of emotions that you were, she was hiding it considerably well. Morn wiped her lips and tusks with a napkin and got up from the table.

"Well, I've got to visit mom and pops tonight, but we've still got Sunday tomorrow. How about we have our first real date then?"

"Uh, sure!" You sat there, dumbfounded. Was it really going to be this easy?

"Cool. I'll let you pick where we go, just like most of our... non-date hangouts," she said, turning to the cashier. She gestured widely to the table. "Put it all on my tab."

"You have a crepe tab?"

Morn chuckled. Making her way to the door, the sunlight caught her hair and skin deliciously.

"I'm a regular. Anyway," she grabbed her skateboard, "see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow." You answered. She gave you one last toothy grin and stepped out before gliding out of sight, disappearing past the edge of the window. You rested your chin in your hands and sighed like a lovestruck teenager in a coming-of-age movie. Before long, your window-gazing session was interrupted by an employee.

"All done, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, I was spacing out."

"No, it's all good. Thanks for coming by, and if you don't mind me saying..." he looked somewhat pensive.

"What?"

"Don't tell Morn I said this since she's proven that she could snap me in half like a twig, but... speaking as the crepe guy she visits several times a week, I think she's a good match for you."

"But you've never met me before. Maybe once or twice, but—"

"She's told me all about you. All good things, don't worry. It's less about you and more about how Morn talks about you. She gushes when she mentions you, seriously." He paused awkwardly then started to clean up the table. "I've said too much."

"No, thank you," you said. "It's good to know."

"Glad I could help. Anyway... um, thanks for coming in." He waved at you as you got up and left. You nodded and made your exit.

Back at your dorm, you couldn't decide if you wanted to pace or lay in bed and kick your legs. You had so much energy inside you, trapped. It was equally nervous and thrilling. You wondered how Morn kept herself so well composed; something in the back of your mind nagged at you, wondering if it was because she didn't really feel that strongly for you. Enough, you thought to yourself. Morn was your best friend for almost as long as you could remember. She wouldn't toy with you like that. Hell, she explained her entire thought process on the topic before you even confessed to her.

You decided to pace to distract yourself. Those thoughts weren't helpful. Right now you had to choose a place for your first officially non-platonic date. It was never this hard to pick a place to hang out with Morn before...

Then, an idea. It sprung into your mind out of nowhere, and it just felt right. You made sure that the place was open on Sunday, checked the ticket prices... it was perfect. You readied your phone to text Morn the details... but Lash had already sent you a private message. You opened the notification.

Lash: yo how did crepes go?? sorry i no-showed

Your brow furrowed a bit. Lash's random interest was a bit strange, even more so since she was hungover. A dehydrated, vomiting Lash was bedridden for a good half-day in your experience.

You: the cafe was cool! the crepes were good

Unsure if you should be forthcoming about your new development with Morn, you figured they could find out tomorrow once your first "real date" was underway. A change like that would likely be a big deal in your friend group, so a text message wouldn't do the announcement justice anyway.

Lash: how's Morn?

You: shes fine? did something happen??

Lash: no lol, just wondering lol

Two "lol" in one text? You wanted to indulge your suspicions and investigate further, but you decided to leave it at that. You had a date to arrange.

You: still at your parents' place?

Morn: yeah, I'll be back in town tomorrow though

You: k, cool. does meeting at the aviary at 2pm work?

Morn: yeah definitely! what made you pick the aviary?

You: idk if you remember, it was so long ago, but it was the first school field trip we went on as friends

There was a pause as Morn's typing bubble hovered on your screen.

Morn: 😭OMG YOURE SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY😭

Morn: i cant wait to see you tomorrow!!!

You: me too 💕

Your phone landed on your bed with a thump and that nervous energy returned with a vengeance. More pacing, more leg-kicking, even some giggles. This situation felt both extremely real and like a scene from a movie; you never imagined this sort of thing happened in real life, especially in yours. Against all previous expectations, things were going fine. It was thrilling, scary, and made your heart race, but it was going fine. The homework you had to do took a back seat to your excited daydreaming and scheming about tomorrow. You thought about how you would greet her, how you would hug, if and how you would go for a kiss, walking while holding her hand... predictably, sleeping that night was incredibly difficult.

In the morning, you finally executed the plans you fantasized about prior. You decided to err on the side of being overdressed, picking an outfit that wasn't formal but still a little more special than what you would usually wear. You showered, brushed your teeth, swished some mouthwash, and even flossed! Breath mints, a small assortment of Morn's favorite snacks, and an extra water bottle found their way into your bag. If you were going to overthink, then you would take advantage and be overprepared as well. Squeaky clean, dressed to impress, and with a heftier bag than usual, you skateboarded down to the aviary intent on arriving ten minutes early.

The journey was uneventful save for your steadily increasing heart rate. By the time you were waiting for her by the entrance gate, you were fully flustered. You stood still with a kind smile on your face, but anything more complex would have been asking too much of you. The mental rehearsal in your mind's eye ran over and over again: smile, say hi, hug. Smile, say hi, hug. These were all things you had done with Morn before, but with platonic intent instead of this newfound "why not?" intimacy. With how calm and composed Morn had appeared throughout this whole process, you felt as if you were at a disadvantage somehow. You worried in a juvenile sort of way that she was too cool for you.

The way she pulled up to the aviary in her car didn't help that worry at all. Her ride, an old, angular, black thing that roared like a beast, was her pride and joy. She had practically built the thing herself with the number of parts she swapped out of it. It was fully manual and she had the skills to maneuver it gracefully into the parking space. Out from it stepped your actual, honest-to-god, bonafide date.

She smiled at you and your brain melted. You held up a hand in a sort of mellow wave, offering a faint grin. By the time she closed the distance, your simple three-step plan was gone with the wind. Luckily she also decided that greeting with a hug was the correct choice and you were in her embrace quickly. You paused before realizing you should probably return the gesture and wrap your arms around her as well.

"It's so good to see you! You look great," she said, pulling away and looking you over.

"You too..." you breathed, taking your own chance to get a proper look. Her outfit was just as sleek and dark as her car: a pair of black jeans with accompanying boots, a matching leather jacket, and of course, that classic burgundy beanie to top it off.

"Shall we?" She extended a green, competent hand to you. She wasn't wearing her driving gloves today, which was good for your composure; otherwise, you would have well and truly swooned. You accepted her grasp and she gave your hand a firm squeeze before strolling with you to the ticket booth. Thanks to your student IDs, you got in with discounted admission.

The aviary itself was fairly large, and on this particular Sunday, you and Morn practically had the place to yourselves. Other than the idle chatter of a few other scattered visitors, there was only the sound of wind in the leaves and bird calls. The two of you meandered between the exhibits, chatting but not about much in particular. Instead, you were simply content to enjoy each other's company and look at the birds. The birds liked looking at you, too; at one point a pair of free-roaming peacocks followed you and Morn around the aviary.

"Looks like it's a double date," Morn quipped, gesturing to the two plumy birds. They were both mostly brown and lacking the massive, fan-shaped tails.

"They're a pair of girls too. Male peacocks are the ones with the crazy feathers," you noted.

"It's almost like having Lash and Dera tagging along." Morn chuckled. "In fact, if they keep failing to show up these birds would make good replacements."

You looked at the two peacocks, who had started preening each other's feathers.

"Do you think they're besties or girlfriends?" You playfully asked. "That's some pretty intense preening."

"Maybe they're both, like us." Morn wrapped an arm around you and offered you her shoulder. You melted again. "If you had feathers, I'd be preening you right now."

"If I knew how to return that compliment, I would." You said, deliciously rattled by her closeness and warmth.

"I have an idea... if you're cool with it." Morn kept holding you close, turning to make eye contact with you. You faced her and realized how close you were. Trapped in her gaze, you couldn't speak. You gave a faint nod.

The first thing you felt was her tusks on your cheeks. They met the corners of your mouth, pressing gently just before her lips met yours. In reality, the kiss was a quick peck. In your mind, time froze. You could no longer hear the birds calling or wind blowing, only the sound of your heart beating like a drum and a feeling like fire in your chest. Morn pulled away from the kiss with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry if my tusks poked you. I'm still getting the hang of that."

"Hey, practice makes perfect, right?" you let slip with a suaveness that surprised even you. Morn's eyes widened in surprise before she let out a hearty laugh.

"That's the spirit!" She cheered, squeezing you hard. "I'm gonna hold you to it, so be aware: I'm gonna kiss you a bunch more before we're out of here."

"That's fine by me." You couldn't do anything else but giggle. Morn gave you another peck immediately after, angling her head a bit so her tusks didn't have such a lead on her lips. Your first kiss with Morn was perfect as far as you were concerned, but this second one was a bit more graceful.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better."

Your stroll through the aviary continued in this fashion: chatting about this and that, generally gushing about each other and punctuated by more quick kisses. It was strange to have a first date with someone that you knew so well, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. Each kiss felt natural and fun, not nerve-wracking and awkward as in the dates of your past. Before all this, you scoffed at yourself for wishing that there was a switch you could toggle to go from best friends to girlfriends, but so far it seemed to work precisely like that.

To the sound of your giggling, the sun was poised to set soon. The aviary closed early because it was Sunday, and you found yourself with Morn leaning against the gleaming hood of her car. You saw your reflection in it, the two of you framed by the orange sky. She came to your side, attaching to you like a magnet.

"It's probably time we headed home, huh?" she suggested.

"Yeah, probably," you replied reluctantly. "I almost don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to." Morn smiled. "Did you really think I'd kiss you goodnight and leave you on the curb?"

You giggled. That would certainly be the plan for a first date with a stranger, but this was Morn.

"You could come by and hang out with me in my dorm for a bit?" she asked.

"I'd love to." You answered. Her dorm building and yours were right next to each other, after all. She stood up from the hood of her car and opened the passenger side door, offering the seat to you. Not long after stowing your skateboard in the trunk, you were cruising through the city streets bound for the university. Morn's focus made the ride a smooth one, her hands expertly gripping the steering wheel and gear shifter. She wore a focused but pleased expression as she deftly maneuvered the growling vehicle.

"Oh!" Her concentration broke. "We should get food! We haven't eaten at all."

Tires squealed as she veered right, making a turn she wasn't expecting to make. You gripped your armrest and giggled. The engine roared and, within moments, delivered you to a drive-through whose location Morn seemed to know by heart. She was so familiar with it that she blew past the lit-up menu and instead went directly to order.

"Don't worry, I'll get you something you'll like." She reassured you before making it out of the drive-through, takeout bag in hand, in record time. The bag landed in your lap and delicious smells wafted from it. You were tempted to peek inside and sample its contents, but even while entranced with Morn's driving skills you knew eating in her car was a no-no. Untoasted Pop-Tarts during a late-night study session on her bed were okay but her car was like a temple. You folded the top of the bag to make it easier to resist the temptation.

After she had parked and gotten out of the car, you followed her with takeout bag in one hand and skateboard in the other. This late on a Sunday night, the sky was a deep navy. Stark white light from the lamp posts illuminated the web of pathways that connected the dorms, parking lots, student union, and myriad other places you'd typically skateboard solo to.

A few beeping locks later, you made it to Morn's dorm room. Like yours, it was spartan and tiny, but it belonged to her and her alone. You set the bag down on the solitary table and determined to chow down, but Morn caught your attention. She sat on the twin-sized bed that you had shared with her many times before; platonically, of course. She had an expression that you couldn't quite decipher.

"You okay?" You asked, not sure where to begin.

"I'm great, actually," she said, brushing her hair out of the way so she could look at you. "Sorry if I overdid it with the kisses earlier—"

"You didn't," you interjected.

"I just... It felt great to kiss you. I don't know if it's just my nerves, or the newness of it all, or something else, but... I'm kicking myself for not making the first move on you sooner." She looked away, blushing a forest green on her cheeks. You sat next to her on the bed before she could say anything more.

"Hey, don't feel bad just because I was moping for a bit. The fact I was so worried is proof that you can't really know how someone feels about you until you ask. Even if you were friends since forever ago." You reversed the usual arrangement by wrapping your arm around her. She chuckled softly.

"I can't believe I was stressing myself out over random sorority chicks at parties rejecting me. Being with you just feels so much better than the dating apps and the parties and shit like that," Morn sighed. "I know it's technically only our first date but I really think we're something special."

"We are special," you held her tighter, "we went on our first date after... what, a decade and a half of knowing each other? That kind of history sure beats cheesy Tinder pick-up lines."

"Sure does," Morn punctuated her sentence with a kiss. Instead of giving you a quick peck, she pressed her lips into yours even harder. Within the privacy of her dorm room, your heart fluttered at the notion of Morn being able to do whatever she wanted to you. You felt the beginnings of her tongue at your lips, then she pulled away and took a deep breath. Her face was inches from yours as you caught your breath.

"I really like kissing you," Morn uttered. "Now that we're alone... are you okay if I really kiss you?"

"Really kiss me?" you teased. She got even closer.

"Please?" She played along with her best begging tone.

"Go ham." She kissed you again, giggling at your choice of words with her lips pressed against yours once more. She immediately cradled your head in her strong hands, gently placing you into a reclining position. There wasn't much room, but she managed to fit alongside you in the twin-sized bed all without breaking the kiss. You opened your eyes after pulling away to breathe, and all you could see were her dandelion-colored irises.

"I'm gonna go again," She said, smiling. "I just had to get a good look at you first."

"You can do whatever you want, Morn." You grabbed her arm and placed her hand on you. "Just don't keep me waiting."

Morn kissed you hard for the third time, the hand you held now caressing your body ravenously. As her tongue gently played at your lips, her hand found its way to your chest and played with your breasts. She hardly gave you time to gasp, coming back to your mouth with fervor. Her tongue met yours in earnest now, both of you closing the space on the bed between you. Her body flush with yours, you could feel every muscle as she held you close.

You felt one of her legs settle in between your thighs, and you whined into her mouth as she teasingly rubbed you against it. Even fully clothed the sensation was electric, no doubt due to the person giving it to you. Many nights alone had involved fantasies just like this. Now they were coming true.

Desperately, you began grinding yourself against her leg. You chased the sensation as far as you could, moaning into Morn's kiss. Just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, she removed herself from you. Her leg pulled away and the kiss stopped. You opened your eyes, bewildered. Morn had gotten off the bed and kneeled just next to it, her eyes level with your aching need. She grabbed the waistband of your bottoms before looking you in the eyes again.

"You said you didn't want me to keep you waiting," she grinned, tusks glistening. "This okay?"

"It's more than okay... stop teasing me!" You whined. She nodded, pulling your bottoms off entirely before hovering in between your legs. You could feel her breathe on you through your underwear. God, she was so close; you twitched with each puff of warm breath. Her tusks brushed against the inside of your thighs. With a tentative finger she eased your underwear out of the way, gently planting kisses all around your bare mound. She held your legs in place as they twitched and reacted to her electric touch. She deliberately avoided your tender nub with her warm lips. She was playing with you.

"Morn, please," you begged. She paused to look up at you and give a toothy grin.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," she teased, quickly going back for more. She felt unimaginably warm against your already hot entrance. It wasn't unlike all those other times you melted at Morn's touch, only now it was so intense you couldn't help but let out gasps and squeaks. She held nothing back this time. Hungrily, she lapped at your slit, each lick finishing with a flourish on your sensitive little nub. You mewled in time with her curling tongue.

"Oh! That's— ah! So good!" You moaned, your back beginning to arch as you squirmed around on the mattress.

"You flatter me," Morn uttered between licks, looking proud. You saw something in her eye before she let go of one of your thighs and brought her hand to your entrance. Her tongue didn't let up at all as she slowly introduced one of her substantial fingers. It fit comfortably inside you at first, but you gasped hard when it started moving. Morn added another soon after, stretching you deliciously.

"I'm gonna come if you keep that up," you panted, your face burning red and lungs desperate for air.

"My pleasure," Morn said before redoubling her efforts. Her fingers curled inside you, making a "come hither" motion that made your hips rock. By this point, Morn's tongue had trouble staying on you as you writhed. You gasped with every finger curl, well and truly lost in the heat of the moment.

"Ah! Morn!" You cried, rocking yourself against her fingers desperate for more. She gave up on trying to lick your nub, instead palming one of your breasts with her other hand and pinning you to the bed. With the new leverage, she worked your insides with her fingers, pumping them in and out of you with her muscular arm. You could see sweat beading on her taut green skin.

"Come for me. I wanna see you come," Morn urged. You could do little else but cry out and oblige her. Your body spasmed hard as you cried out gibberish interspersed with her lovely name. Her fingers didn't stop rubbing against your inner walls, leaving you breathless and faint and tightly wound around her. The coiling pleasure within you finally snapped. Your back arched, completely leaving the bed as Morn pressed her lips into yours. She kissed you hungrily as you wailed into her mouth. There was nothing in your mind but the feeling of her fingers coaxing you through the height of your bliss and holding you there for as long as possible. When the pleasure finally started to subside and your breath returned to you, Morn finally withdrew her fingers and lips and wiped her forehead. She smiled at you wordlessly.

"I love you, Morn," you said, panting. There was nothing else to say, nothing else on your mind. If you had given yourself that sort of bliss on a lonely night, you would be drowsy and lethargic. Instead, with Morn turning her love for you into pleasure that made you cry out and curl, you had never felt more alive. She gave you a moment to catch your breath. Leaving your lips unkissed, she sat by your side and stroked your hair.

"I love you too," she planted a quick kiss on your forehead. "Are you tired?"

You shook your head enthusiastically. Sure, you would likely be sore in a few hours, but you wouldn't dream of denying Morn more of you.

"Good, because I wanna get off too." She chuckled and pecked your lips. Undressing herself completely, she helped you out of what clothes remained until you were both completely bare. You were completely flush against her on the bed once more, your skin perfectly complimenting her green form. Her body was toned and full, muscled yet smooth. Even after all you had just been through, the sight of her still made your heart skip.

"I've always wanted to try this. Spread your legs," she commanded, gently grasping your ankles. You complied and she lifted one of your legs aloft just in front of her as if about to hug it. Still holding your leg pointed toward the ceiling, she straddled your dripping warmth with her own. She eased herself onto you and those lovely electric feelings returned. She moaned for the first time, her pleasured sounds like music to your ears.

The position was a little awkward and bent your back in a strange way, but the feeling of her slick sex pressed against yours was delicious.

"I'm gonna start moving," Morn said. She initiated a gentle rocking motion that made you both gasp. The friction between the two of you felt gorgeous and you soon found yourself reciprocating with your hips. Interlocked and sharing the same squeaks and mewls, you wanted desperately to kiss her but couldn't. You had to lay there at her mercy as Morn clung to your leg and ground herself into you. She doubled up on her pace.

"Oh, shit," Morn groaned, both with pleasure and with effort. She had the same expression as when she was driving; when her head wasn't thrown back with a sigh, she was looking at you with love but also intent. Her grinding made you moan and her glare made you shiver delightfully. You had never felt anything like this before, nor had you even fantasized about Morn pressed up against you like this.

"This feels amazing... ah! Morn..." you sighed between yelps when the friction between you peaked.

"I—I..." Morn gasped, her entire face contorted and flushed. She had brought you to your peak once already, and now you wanted nothing more than to see her reach her own ecstasy.

"Please, Morn, come," you pleaded, mirroring her own urgency when she had brought you to orgasm earlier.

"No, I... Shit, I've got a cramp." She sighed, this time tinged with disappointment as she stopped her grinding. "Ouch." She gently disentangled herself from you, rubbing her thigh. The realization that her creased brow had come from pain and not pleasure embarrassed you a bit, an emotion that Morn echoed.

"Hey, it's okay." You sat up and held her shoulder. Her eyes were downcast as she massaged the cramp out of her muscled thigh. "Just so you know, I'm having a great time."

"You were having a great time." She winced as she shifted her kneeling weight on the bed. "Serves me right for thinking I could fuck like a pornstar on the first date, huh?"

"I already came once, Morn," you reminded her. Sitting alongside her, equally naked and sweaty, there was a clarity in the air that made it effortless to speak your mind. You felt bold, yet comfortable. You felt like you wanted more of Morn's body. "Let me take care of you. I think I can make this work."

"Take the lead, babe," Morn relented. The way she said babe made you giddy inside, but you were focused on her now. "Just mind the leg, it still freakin' hurts."

"Morn, when I say I'm gonna take care of you, I mean it. Just lie down," you said, easing her onto her back. With the positions reversed, you had a moment to look her up and down. Laid bare before you and anticipating your next move, the sight of her awoke something within you. Something that told you not to hold back.

You practically pounced atop her, squarely laying yourself on her body. She met you with a kiss that you eagerly returned. You channeled all your built-up desire to please her into that kiss, at the same time aligning your mound with hers. It took a few tries, but eventually, you found the angle where your clit could meet hers without requiring pornstar-style flexibility. Pleasure jolted through both of you and she broke the kiss to gasp.

"Told you I could make it work," you grinned, focusing now on the movement of your hips. You started slowly at first as to not tire yourself out but quickly increased the pace as the coiling warmth inside you grew. Instead of kissing her, you buried your face in her shoulder so you could hear her sing. With every roll of your hips she moaned, louder and louder as you humped her harder and harder.

"Oh, god, babe," Morn panted. You could feel her frenzied breath on your neck as she cried out. You could feel your own orgasm building but all you cared about was her.

"Tell me how you feel," you commanded, maintaining your hips' pace. "I want you to come so bad."

"Keep going," Morn grunted. "I'm close, I'm so fucking close!"

You furthered your efforts, grinding your desperate nub into hers with vigor. You panted as you began to feel tingles in your extremities and your breath became impossibly tight. Morn matched your desperation, her hips weakly pushing upwards so that her mound would meet yours sooner. Just a little more! More! You shouted to yourself mentally as Morn's hands squeezed your waist to signal her impending orgasm.

You frantically let go of her body with one hand, giving up precious leverage in order to make sure Morn couldn't escape the pleasure you were giving her. There was nothing you wanted more than to reach the peak together. You gently caught her pearl between your fingers and rolled it as you ground into her, drawing out deep moans from her. She spasmed in your grasp, gasping in time with your own pleased sighs.

"Oh god!" She cried out, throwing her head back into the piled-up blankets. Her whole body tensed and you could feel each of her rippling muscles press against you in a desperate bid to ride out her orgasm. You followed soon after, the air forced from your lungs as an explosion of tingling warmth knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was cry out with her and press your nub into hers where your hand was still at work. You rubbed and rolled, trying your best to prolong the mutual climax before finally catching your breath and collapsing into Morn's tired embrace.

With your body limp and your face buried in her neck, you could feel her breasts rise and fall with each breath. You held each other loosely for a moment, just listening to her breathe. After only a few heartbeats, she started giggling.

"What's so funny?" you asked, lifting your heavy head to look at her.

"Nothing," she stifled her giggles, a tear rolling down her cheek. "That was just really, really good."

"Are you crying?" You asked, concerned but secretly proud of your handiwork.

"No, I'm not crying. I'm tearing up, there's a difference," she chuckled. "Thank you."

"Thank you. You're the one that started it," you cooed, stroking her hair. "plus, you ate me out first so I think I owe you."

"It's on the house," Morn sighed contently. "But you're still on me... could you roll over, please?"

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly shifted your weight off of her and onto the mattress.

"Don't worry about it, I just figured the bed was softer than me." She chuckled again.

You said nothing, instead opting to resume your embrace with her from the side. She reciprocated, rolling over so she could be the big spoon. She wrapped her arms around you snugly.

"Ah, shit," Morn cursed under her breath.

"What? What's wrong?" You craned your neck a bit to see her golden eyes in your periphery.

"Our food is definitely cold by now," she grumbled, "and I don't have a microwave."

“I’ve got snacks in my bag.” You replied.

Morn readied a compliment, but delayed when both your phones buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ had something to say.

“What is it now?” Morn rolled over and grabbed her phone, reading the messages as they rolled in. You did the same.

“What the…?”

Lash: did you two kiss yet???

Dera: they did more than that 😳😳😳

Morn shot you a look of disbelief before tapping away frantically.

Morn: wtf are you guys talking about?

You: ^

Lash: the crepe date! u two are dating now right?

You: what do u mean crepe date? the breakfast u failed to show up to u mean??

Lash: lol, relax. we just thought you two needed some time alone. for the record, i was actually hung over. me and dera just agreed you two needed to talk it out

Dera: seriously, u look at Morn the way she looks at crepes, and she looks at u the way Lash looks at literally anyone

Lash: or the way u look at dudes bulges

Dera: shut up

“I…” Morn began, jaw agape. “I don’t know if I should be mad or amazed. I’m both.”

“They set us up like lonely freshmen.” You shook your head, chuckling.

Lash: u two are dating now right???

Morn: yes dumbass

You: can confirm

Lash: CUTEEEEE

Dera: morn fucks on the first date. respect.

You: wait how- what?

Dera: ur in Morn’s dorm right

Your texting was interrupted by three solid thumps coming through the wall.

Dera: i’m right next door and these dorms are made of fucking paper

Morn: hey, i’ve dealt with hearing every single time you slept with some guy. fair is fair

Dera: no judgment from me!

Lash: suddenly i’m glad i still live with my parents…

You put your phone down as you really didn’t have much to say. Morn gave up on it as well, your phones resting together on the floor. She resumed spooning you and a moment later, you felt her chest start to heave with laughter; a hearty laugh loud enough for Dera to hear through the walls. You joined her, laughing until your diaphragm ached. The whole situation, the realization that Dera and Lash knew before either of you did and that they had a master plan… utterly ridiculous. It was like something out of a movie, yet with your arms wrapped around one of Morn’s, completely real. You feared this was all a dream, and as soon as you succumbed to sleep in Morn’s cozy twin bed, it would dissolve.

Morn could tell sleep started to take you.

“I love you,” she whispered into your ear. She squeezed you tight. You had never been more sure of anything in your life that Morn would still be cuddling you when you woke up.

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

[checkingoutforheroes]

Natasha’s Birthday.

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Words: 2786

Warning: None? I think.

Genre: Just fluffff. I PROMISE!

AU Notes: I suggest you listen to Uptown Girl by Westlife or Billy Joel while reading this💃🏻🕺🏻

Synopsys: Natasha is not happy to celebrate her own birthday party without her love life. Can Y/n make it?

              People starts filling the party area in the compound. Perks of being Tony Stark best friend, he will never miss any of your guy’s birthday. Party is a must! Natasha try to hid her sad and disappoint feeling on her own party but fail when Wanda can easily feel and read mind. 

             Y/n have been send to a week mission yesterday and there is no way she can come home. The team acknowledge that and tried their best to cheer their friend up. Thor arrived and Tony greet him. “Right on time, Point Break. Party about to start.” “I couldn’t miss the party. It’s birthday party, there must be a cake. How’s Natasha? I heard Y/n is on a mission.” The god of thunder asking his fellow Avengers. 

            Clint answer him while Tony ask Pepper to call Natasha and Wanda to come down. “This is a secret okay. Do not, any circumstances, tell Natasha this but Y/n is not on a ‘work’ mission.” Thor confuse “What do you mean?” “He means; Y/n is preparing a big surprise for Natasha. It’s more like a show for her. We all kind of have a part in it. Sorry you didn’t have time to rehearse with us.” Steve explaining to him and Thor just sip his drinks happily. “That’s okay. I like watching a show. We have them on Asgard too, when we celebrating something. Like this.”

             “And, done.” Wanda is doing Natasha’s hair and can’t help to hear her thought. “Maybe Y/n will celebrate it with you when she’s back. I know it past your birthday but I also know she definitely celebrating it.” Natasha just smiling on her chair, looking at Wanda through the mirror in front of them. “You invading my privacy.”

           Wanda just giggle to answer to her mentor. “Well you’re not helping by thinking too loud. We all here for you tonight and I swear I can hear Thor already betting with someone, something about a drink?”

          “Thor’s here huh? He’s been away in space but still can manage to come visit his fellow Avengers birthday party. While Y/n was away in a silly mission.” Natasha fake a smile.

          “I understand if you want to strangle Fury right now but it’s time to go.” Someone knocking on the door and Pepper come in to get them. “Well, I’m here to invite this birthday girl to her own birthday party.” Natasha smile at her. “We are going. Let’s go.” Pepper nodding “Good idea. Because Thor is just a step away to get everybody drunk.”

             They can hear the music blasting when they reach to the floor. “I guess you’re the one who handling the guests invitation?” Natasha asking Pepper. “If I let Tony, he’ll invite the whole Manhattan.” “You know me so well now, Pepper.”

           Tony grabs the mic from the DJ and announce Natasha’s arrival. “Ladies and gentlemen, I announcing the arrival of our birthday girl for tonight, The Double Agent imposter.” The crowds go silent and only Tony and Thor are laughing. “I was just kidding. The lovely Natasha Romanoff!!” Now the crowds cheering loudly.

           The party goes smoothly as planned. Some of the guess already drunk, chatting with their friends, playing at the pool table, throwing darts and here they are, in a group, sitting in a lounge, chatting with the birthday girl. “I see there are 3 piles of presents.” Asked by the birthday girl.

“They are from your rich guests here, your fan clubs and your little fans.” Clint told her.

“That’s sweet.” She said and Steve notice something is not right. “What is it? You not like it?”

“I like it.”

“She’ll kill to be here but no choice.” Steve try to makes his friend feel better at her own birthday.

“I asked Fury for an exchange, me instead, but you know that old man.” Clint assure her.

           “Thank you for trying making me feel better. Well, the God is here. What more can I wish for right?” Natasha smile at Thor. “I apologize, I didn’t bring anything from Asgard. I’m from another course and drop by here but I have this humble drink for you.” Thor hand the drink in an antique and unique bottle to Natasha and she takes it. “Thanks! I could really use it now though.” Tony looks unsatisfied at Thor. “And you didn’t bring one for me?!” Pepper interject him “Thanks to that. You are already drunk even when you’re sober.” “I cannot disagree to that statement.” Sam jokes. Clint, Tony and Steve excuse themselves.

          Wanda immediately stops her from drinking that drink. “Why did you stop me?” She asked and Wanda told her to enjoy the party. “You can drink that later because you might want to enjoy your ‘not so boring’ party first. That drink is probably too strong you know, not made for human.” “Everybody else is probably drunk right now, I don’t see why I can’t.” “I can’t let you because-”

         Right on time the music play and Natasha turn her head so fast to the stage when she hears Y/n voice. “...that.” Wanda finishes her sentences. Turns out it’s not just you. There Steve on the keyboard, Clint on drum, Tony on bass guitar and Maria Hill on electric guitar. All wearing the same old S.H.I.E.L.D old uniform, sleeve rolling up. They all have microphone with them and singing as backup vocals as Y/n go lead.

          Uptown girl,

          She’s been living in her uptown world

          I bet she never had a backstreet guy

          I bet her mama never told her why

          I’m gonna try for an uptown girl  (Uptown girl…)

         She’s been living in her white, bright world (white, bright world…)

         As long as anyone with the hot blood can (hot blood can…)

         And now she’s lookin’ for a downtown man (downtown man…)

         That’s what I am

         Her green eyes sparkles bright enough to light up the room when she sees you on stage singing the classic Uptown Girl. She turns to Wanda and Pepper asking whether it is really Y/n or a hologram. “Is that?” Wanda smiles wide and nods. “Yes, that’s Y/n.” Pepper add “I kill Tony myself if that is screen recording or hologram.”

              And when she knows

              What she wants

              From her time

             And when she wake up

             And make up

             Her mind

            She’ll see I’m not so tough (duet with Steve)

            Just because

            I’m in love with an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

           You know I see her in her uptown world (uptown world)

           She’s getting tired of her high class toys (high class toys)

           And all her presents from her

           Uptown boys  (uptown boys)

          She’s got a choice.

          Oh oh oh oh oh oh

          Oh oh oh oh oh oh

           Fury come out of nowhere “It is so awkward to see The Avengers singing. And dancing. Maybe not for Captain America.” Natasha turns to see Fury. “Nick. Is this part of your plan too?” He smiles “How can I not? She’s been begging me for the last two months to not give any of you a mission specifically on this day. It’s worth it.”

Natasha chuckles, out of words. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Fury turns over and showing Natasha’s family. Yes, her family. Alexi, Melina and her little sister Yelena.

Wanda whisper at Natasha’s ear “They are real too.” She nods at Natasha “Go.”

           Thor walks towards Wanda and Fury. “I’ve never seen her smiling that big.” Pepper and Wanda looking at her greeting her family. “Me too.”

          “Such a noble thing you did.” Thor said to Fury and he just smiling. Natasha brings her family to introduce to Wanda, Thor and Pepper. They continue watching the show and Wanda pulls Natasha’s hand when Y/n calling them to come up the stage. “Let’s go. All of us. The band need us.” Pepper let Natasha’s family walks first. Wanda presenting Natasha and let Y/n takes her hand. She goes next to Steve, Pepper next to Tony, Thor doing silly dance next to Maria and be silly together while her family enjoying with all of them near Clint.

             Uptown girl

             You know I can’t afford to buy her pearl

             But maybe when my ship comes in

             She’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been

             And then I win.

Y/n put her hand out for Natasha to take and walking on the stage. Que for her walking. Luckily Natasha play along.

             And when she’s walking

             She’s looking so fine

             And when she’s talking

             She’s say that she’s mine

Y/n pass her to her family and jog towards Tony.

             She’ll say I’m not so tough (duet with Tony)

             Just because

             I’m in love with an uptown girl  (oohhh)

             She’s been living in her white, bread world (oohhh)

             As long as anyone with a hot blood can (ooohhh)

             And now she’s looking for a downtown man (oohhh)

             That’s what I am

             Oh oh oh oh

             Oh oh oh oh

             While the rest of them singing the ‘Oh’ parts, you Y/n whisper to Natasha. “You know the next part. You’ve seen the video.” Natasha shyly looking at her family and friends until Yelena yells “Go! This is one in a lifetime chances.” Natasha looks at Y/n, her smile still plastering at her beautiful face. “Why are you doing this to me?” “Because I love you. Dance with me.” The music continues playing even they stop playing the instruments to gather around just like they practiced. Tony already set the music with Friday and it knows the queue.

             Uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             She’s my uptown girl

             You know I’m in love

             With an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             My uptown girl

            You know I’m in love

             With a birthday girl  (uptown girl)

            She’s my birthday girl

            You know I’m in love

            With an uptown girl  (uptown girl)

             My uptown girl….

            They let their friend finish that song. Everybody enjoying the moment and each of them have biggest smile on their faces. Even Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D himself. It’s weird but yes, he is smiling. Y/n and Natasha go hugs their friends and family. Y/n stops at Natasha’s family while she’s with Steve and Maria at the other end.

“I know I just met you, but I already like you Y/n.” Melina says to Y/n and Alexi continue. “It’s hard to see her smile like that. Not even when she’s a kid.”

“Take a good care of my sister. I trust you.” Yelena said.

“She doesn’t even trust me! Her father.” Alexi said and Yelena jus rolling her eyes.

            Y/n look at them with hope and grateful in her eyes. “Thank you, for allowing me to marry your daughter, sister. I promise I’ll take care of her.” Yelena sees her sister coming toward them “What are you waiting for? Go put the ring on her finger, in-law.” Y/n smiles big at Yelena’s as she called her sister in-law.

             The crowds getting quiet when Tony put a ‘silent’ sign on the screen above them while the other screen focus on Y/n and Natasha without they even notice. Secretly Tony recording the whole thing since the beginning and make the whole documentary out of it. Y/n surely need to thank him.

             “Happy birthday, Natasha. You, look so, d.. divine. Tonight.” Y/n nervously said to her soon to be fiancé. Hopefully.

              “You sound nervous. You’ve been singing, dancing in front of hundreds people in this room and you’re nervous to praise me?” Natasha cupping your cheek with her right hand. Y/n pull her hand down and Natasha’s sensing something is wrong. “Y/n. What’s wrong?” They didn’t notice that all of The Avengers slowly moves behind Y/n. Even Y/n doesn’t know this part. It was Wanda’s idea. They all get down on their knee when Y/n is on her knee.

              “You’re right. I am nervous, now. I’m speechless. Over the edge, I’m breathless. I understand if… I understand...” Y/n is so nervous and let out a long sigh before looking at Natasha’s family behind her. They all nodding at Y/n. Y/n take a deep breath and pull out a red velvet box that have a diamond engagement ring from her pocket. Y/n get down on her knee.

              To be honest, Natasha is also nervous and shock, mix with happy and overwhelm when she sees not just Y/n who down on one knee but the whole Avengers. Her second family, also bending their knee but she keeps her composure. Y/n turns to see where Natasha’s looking and almost let out tears when she sees them. 

              They both looking eye to eye and Y/n starts talking. “You know how terrible I am with words when I’m nervous. That’s why I’m so bad at espionage. You are the most solid, nothing to solidify. Calm and collected. We avenge together, we mess up together. You know I love you, right? Natasha Romanoff, will you accept my proposal?” Wanda hissing and whisper directly to you from her place “Pssstt… Will you marry me. Will. You. Marry. Me.” Your eyes still lock on Natasha astonishing green eyes. “Sorry. Umm... Will you marry me?”

              “We drive each other mad, but what is love with no pain and suffer.” The whole room is so quiet that they can only listen to their own heart beats. “To you, I’ve never lied. For you, I’d take a life. I swear.” Natasha said eyes still on each other. “Your answer is…….?” Y/n gulp and Natasha smile. “Yes. I’ll marry you, my favorite Avengers.”

              Y/n get up from the floor and hug Natasha a little too strong because why not? She’s over the moon right now. Before Natasha kiss her new fiancé, Y/n turn around and runs to her friends. “SHE SAID YES GUYS! She said the big YES!!”

Pepper stops Y/n. “Y/n, have you kiss her yet?”

“I did hug her.”

They all yell “KISS HER!!” You run towards Natasha and kiss her. “I’m sorry I forget to kiss you. I’m so excited! Can I kiss you now?” Natasha giggles “You’ve never ask my permission before.” Y/n kiss Natasha in front of her family and they awkwardly watch especially Yelena.

“Are you sure she’s an Avenger? Not from any circus camp?” Yelena looking at her sister.

“No.” Natasha let out a small laugh. “No? Are you sure? Yes? No? ” “No…” “Okay if you’re sure, because I want you to be happy.” The sisters hug each other for a while meanwhile Y/n and Wanda hold each other hand jumping up and down like children get what they wish for as Christmas present.  “she said Yes Wanda. I’m getting marry.” “Yes you’re getting marry.”  

“Natasha.” Melina caught her attention. “I’m proud of you. We, all proud of you. You’ve grown to be an incredible woman Natasha.”

“Looooonggg way from Ohio.” Yelena smiles. “I’ll never forget Ohio.” Natasha told he sister.

“She’s a good person, Natasha.” Alexi caught her attention. Seriousness shown on his face, he continues. “She did asked us for our blessing.” “She did what?” Now its her turn to be serious.

“She asked for our blessing. To marry you.”

“Y/n asked for your blessing?”

“Yes. I know! I can’t believe it too until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Hah! You’re marrying a vintage.” Yelena laugh at her sister. “Mom, almost take her down with sniper.”

Natasha look sternly at Melina “Almost! Okay! Almost. I didn’t because she came unarms. Not even a swish blade.” Melina clearing the situation.

“She came to you guys? When?” Natasha asked her family.

“Yeah. Alone. Last month. Why?” Alexi asks her daughter.

“I thought Fury brought you guys here. I never told her where do you live. Only Fury knows, based on my file details.”

“She did break into Maria Hill’s personal computer just to find your original file. No one ever know that you and Barton had an original file. Somehow, she did. She’s a catch Romanoff.” Fury came behind her.

“Thank you.” Natasha at him.

“I have to go. It broke my heart to see the Avengers jumping like that.” He looks at the Avengers. “Lighten up, Fury. Let her have a moment.” Natasha said. “You better tell your fiancé not to break any S.H.I.E.L.D files or computers ever again. I’m watching.” He nods at her family and walks away. The family joins The Avengers drinking and chatting. Natasha greeted by Y/n and put her arm around Y/n neck.

“Hey you.” Y/n smiles.

“Hey fiancé.” Natasha smirking seductively at Y/n.

“Fiancé. Huh, I’d like that.”

“Wait until I call you my wife.”

“I’ll love that.”

Tony snap their picture and post it on instagram and twiter. The news travel so fast and the whole world are happy for them. Who doesn’t get excited. Two of earth mightiest heroes are engaged to each other. Their phones are blown off with calls, notification, texts, emails from fans, reporters, sponsors, government, agencies this, that. All of those are for congratulate the couple.  

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part II. (Harry Styles)

thank you so much for all the love you have showed to the first part of valerie! im so happy you are just as excited about the story as i am so i hope i won’t let you down.

if you are enjoying the story please make sure to give it a like and reblog so it can reach even more people and of course as always im more than happy to read your thoughts and comments on the part!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Working on a major report you have to finish by the end of the week, you are completely focused on your computer’s screen when your phone buzzes on the desk next to the keyboard. You grab it and answer the call without even checking the screen.

“Y/N,” you say into the phone.

“What’s your size?”

Harry’s voice pushes you out of focus as you grimace unintentionally.

“Since when do you have my number? And what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Since I asked for it from your sister,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “And I’m asking you what size shirts you wear.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m trying to dress up as you for Halloween.” Your eyes widen at his comment, but soon enough he continues. “Because I found cute matching shirts for godparents and a goddaughter and I wanna buy it, but I don’t know your size.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding the situation. “What kind of shirts?”

“It’s Fairy Godparents themed, thought it would be funny to wear it at maybe Christmas or something. But only if you are up for it.”

“Yeah, sounds fine,” you nod and give him a little guide to what sizes you usually wear, letting him decide which information he needs for the shirt he wants to buy.

“Have you thought about what you are buying for Val for Christmas?” he asks once you put the topic of your size aside.

“Harry, it’s the middle of October. I don’t even think about Christmas presents until the 15th of December,” you let out a tired sigh.

No matter how bad you want to start shopping in time every year, you have failed every time so far, no exception.

“This proves that I’m the better godparent,” he huffs on the other end of the line.

“It’s not a competition, Harry,” you roll your eyes.

“But if it was, I would be winning. Anyway, I might go a little overboard with the present, so if I end up ordering something big, are you interested in teaming up? I don’t like to give the biggest present on my own, makes it feel like I’m bragging.”

“But you kind of are bragging.”

“That’s besides the point. So, do you want to share or not?”

“I guess we could,” you shrug your shoulders leaning back in your seat. Your legs feel numb as you finally straighten them under the desk, you haven’t even realized how long you’ve been sitting there, eyes glued to the screen.

“Perfect. Is that all?” you ask, not because you are impatient to leave the conversation, it’s been kind of pleasant, you just have a lot to do.

“So you’re really going on that blind date on Friday?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden change in the topic and how boldly he just asked you about your private life. This was the last thing you expected from him.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?”

“Was just asking,” he says and you can see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s an odd thing.”

“For you. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you though?”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he simply answers. “At least there will be something to make a joke out of next time we meet,” he snorts and you roll your eyes at his comment. Now that sounded more like Harry.

“Unless you won’t have any information about it.”

“You seem to forget Steven gossips like a little girl and I can also have my ways with Rosa too. I’ll have the details before you even get home after the date.”

“You are so full of yourself, Styles,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yeah, and it seems like you were also full of me one time.”

“Go to Hell,” you spat, mocking his British accent that just makes him laugh. “If you are done making a joke out of me I’d like to get back to work.”

“Whatever, Love. We both know you just want to get away from this conversation so I don’t roast you even more.”

“Bye, Harry!” you sing before ending the line without even waiting for an answer. Harry Styles once again proved how talented he is in getting on your nerves.

 ***

 Marcus turns out to be a great company and you are finally sending your kudos to your sister for setting you up with a hot guy who is also smart enough to keep up the conversation and not bore you out of your pants.

He took you to a fancy restaurant that’s in the building of a hotel, a place you normally never go to, because it’s pretty much out of your budget, but Marcus was persistent on going there and paying for dinner. After the starter awkwardness you soon cool down and maybe that wine he ordered has helped you relax too. Marcus tells you about himself and then you do the same, just covering the usual fields of your life.

“I have to admit, when Rosa said she wants to set me up with her little sister I was hesitant at first,” he chuckles softly when your dishes finally arrive.

“You’re not alone with that.”

“Does she set you up often?”

You shake your head. “No, there was just one other time, but the guy was horrible, I have no idea why Rosa thought we would be a match.”

“I hope I’ve been better than him,” Marcus chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and at first you just ignore it, but when it goes off two more times you sigh and reach for your purse.

“Sorry, I forgot to mute it completely,” you excuse yourself as you grab your phone and your plan was just to mute it, but then you see that you got three texts from Harry and your curiosity doesn’t let you slide over it so you quickly check them.

“Well done with your outfit.”

“Gives a great view of your legs.”

“Is it also this tight on your ass?”

You run over the messages two more times, staring at your phone in complete confusion. What is he talking about? How does he know what you are wearing?

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks and you snap your eyes back at him.

“I, uhh—Yes, everything is fine, it’s just that…”

As your gaze runs over the place your anger immediately boils inside you when you spot that familiar grin at the bar. Harry is sitting right there with a scotch in his hand that he raises when you spot him. There’s another guy with him who you don’t know, but it seems like he is more focused on you than his friend.

“For fuck’s sake…” you breathe out clenching your jaw. “Excuse me for a second,” you tell Marcus who just curiously eyes you as you slide out of your seat and head over to the bar. As you march over to the grinning Harry you are literally fuming, ready to kill him right then and there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap at him trying to keep your voice down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene for sure.

“Having a drink, what does it seem like?” he asks innocently, but his face tells you otherwise.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Why do you think I went into such depths as finding out where your blind date would be? Can’t I be here by accident?”

“Nothing about you is an accident except the fact that I ever found you charming enough to sleep with you,” you growl back and earn a laugh from his friend. Harry wasn’t expecting such a harsh response for sure, you can tell it surprised him, but he doesn’t let it push him out of his cocky act.

“Was it Rosa and Steven?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest.

“What if both?” he asks smugly and God! You just want to smack him across the face.

“Why are you here, Harry?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe I just want those details first handed. It’s funnier to witness it all.”

“You know what? I don’t think that’s the truth. The reason why you are here is because you are afraid someone might treat me right and that I might have an experience that would just make you appear like an even bigger asshole than what you already are.”

Harry chuckles looking away from you, but you can tell you just wounded his confidence big time, so you decide to take it further.

“I made a mistake with hooking up with you, but I’m smarter now and I don’t start with little boys like you. I know my worth and what I deserve so I’d really appreciate it if you could move on and let me be. I know it’s hard to forget about me, but you’ll have to try.”

You mentally highfive yourself, because this time you actually made him shut his mouth, he has no retort as he opens his mouth but then closes it back. Flashing him one last bitter smile you turn around and walk back to your date and make sure Harry has a nice view of your ass. He can have one nice thing after getting so burned.

 Your little scene with Harry doesn’t ruin your date, especially because not long after you made his jaw drop to the floor he decided it’s best if he just leaves quietly. By the time you finished eating he was nowhere to be seen.

However you keep thinking about why he even chose to come there. It was way over that healthy line of picking on someone and being an annoying stalker. It’s one thing wanting to know the awkward details about your date, but showing up was definitely just too much.

Part of you was expecting him to call you the next day, maybe apologize, but more like to make a joke out of the whole thing but you don’t hear a word from him and it makes it easier for you to forget about it pretty fast.

A week later you are having dinner over at Rosa’s, just the three of you plus baby Valerie who you keep in your arms the whole night, not able to get enough of her cuteness.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” Rosa sighs with a proud smile and Steven just rolls his eyes at his wife.

“It was alright, yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle. You just told them about your date with Marcus and you can tell Rosa feels like she just hit the jackpot. After that disastrous try you had last time Marcus was surely a change for the better.

Valerie looks up at you with her huge eyes as you flash a grimace at her, earning a short giggle before her attention diverts somewhere else. She is grabbing onto your finger, not letting go of it as if she is trying to hold herself in place by her grip.

“Funny thing, Harry showed up at the restaurant too.”

Rosa almost chokes on her water and Steven starts to cough very suspiciously. Glancing up at them you can tell they are both to blame Harry had any information about where Marcus was taking you.

“Really? That’s… odd,” Rosa clears her throat.

“Is it though? You don’t have to pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sorry, but he just makes you talk so easily, he always gets what he wants,” Rosa sighs, clearly feeling guilty about it. “But I didn’t think he would actually show up. I thought he was just curious.”

“Did he cause a lot of trouble?” Steven asks, worried his friend gave you a hard time. He is not wrong, but it’s not your intention to throw dirt on Harry.

“It was just awkward. I don’t see why he came there,” you admit, shaking your head as you adjust baby Valerie in your arms so she is sitting now on your lap, looking around the table curiously.

You catch a look Rosa and Steve shares and you immediately know something is up.

“What? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, we definitely don’t,” Rosa shakes her head, fingers running up and down the glass in her hands. “I just… there could be one reason I think he went there for.”

“What is that?”

“You don’t want me to say it out loud, it’s silly, let’s just forget about it,” she tries to end the discussion, but there’s no way you let it slip.

“Rosa!”

“I was just thinking, that… considering the past you two have, he might have been… jealous?”

“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you scoff as you turn to Valerie. “Did your momma lose her mind, Princess?”

Valerie just looks at you curiously before smacking her little hands on the edge of the table, completely ignoring the conversation.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like this idea, but this is what I thought about.”

“Then stop thinking about it. There’s absolutely no way this is what it was about. Besides, our past is irrelevant. He was literally the biggest jerk to me when he had a chance with me. Why would have he blown that just to be up in my business now all jealous?”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t have any plot holes, but it could be a reason,” Rosa adds while Steven just hums next to her, not really taking part in the conversation.

Soon enough Steven takes Valerie up to put her to sleep while you and Rosa stay downstairs. You have moved on from Harry, but your mind keeps wandering back to him so you find yourself bringing him up again.

“What do you think about Harry? Aside from everything I’ve told you.”

You’ve always been curious how other people see him, since you had a very strong opinion on the guy that was tainted by everything that happened between the two of you.

Rosa takes her time thinking of her answer and you wait for her patiently. Leaning onto the table she rests her arms on it turning to face you.

“From what I’ve seen from him, he is a very loyal, caring and loving person. He and Steven have been friends for so long and Steven always told me how he could count on him no matter what and he has been proving the same to me. Have I told you he was the reason I got to wear the dress I dreamed of on my wedding?”

“What?” you ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Basically, I had that dress and a cheaper one held in the store until the day before the wedding. I knew we couldn’t afford the expensive one, but I guess I was hoping until the last minute for a miracle to happen and it seems like Harry was that. Steven asked him to pick the cheaper dress up because he was caught up with work that day. He told him specifically to bring the cheaper one and leave the other there. But when he arrived with the dress in the morning when I was getting ready, he had the expensive one. He said the lady asked which one he needed and when he said the cheaper one, the lady seemed sad and told him how much I loved the other one but I even told her I couldn’t afford it. Harry didn’t hesitate to pay for the difference the dress had over the cheaper one. I started crying the moment I saw that he had the one I loved and I was also panicking that I won’t be able to pay back to him.”

You listen to her in awe. It surely is a side of Harry you haven’t had the luck to see in the act, though you felt like you had a glimpse of it before the night of the wedding took a heated and then a quite sad turn later on. The Harry you got to know in the very beginning was the same Rosa was just talking about.

“Harry told me he won’t take my money, no matter how hard I tried to make a deal with him, he made his mind up and didn’t let me change it. I knew then that everything Steven told me about him is true. And I know he can be a cocky fucker sometimes,” she chuckles making you smile as well, “but he has a heart of gold for sure. And this is why I agreed when Steven told me he wants him to be the godfather. I want Val to learn from him, to look up to him, because I really think he can have an amazing impact on her.

“Listen,” she sighs leaning back in her seat and you watch her curiously. “I know that the two of you hate each other with passion, but… you can’t do it forever.”

You let out a long sigh looking down at your lap. It’s one of those sisterly talks when she’ll share her wisdom with you and you’ll just know she’s right. Rosa is always right. Well, mostly.

“I wasn’t there, I don’t know how he acted or what he told you exactly, but he is family now and one of you will have to take the first step. You’re wasting energy on the constant fighting, but I really believe you could work together as a team. I know it’s not just on you, I’ll try to have a talk with him as well. No matter what I think about why he showed up at your date, it was still an ass move. I’m just asking you to… be patient with him and maybe only say out loud half the insults you address to him in your head. That would be a nice start,” she chuckles and reaching over her hand squeezes yours as you nod quietly.

It almost hurts you how right she is. It doesn’t matter how pissed you are at Harry for everything he did and said in the past, you can’t keep on playing his ridiculous game forever. It consumes too much energy and time when you could just be neutral and coexist with each other happily in Valerie’s life. She doesn’t deserve to grow up seeing her godparents hate each other with a passion, that’s just not right. This time you gotta suck it up and move on from what happened, but everyone knows it can only happen if he cooperates as well. You can only hope he’ll take Rosa’s advice and show a nicer side of his face to you.

***

The room was exactly like battlefield, makeup and hair products laid on every possible surface as all the bridesmaids were getting ready, two hairstylists working on the girls while a third one was perfecting Rosa’s loose curls. Grabbing your dress you looked around for a possible corner where you could change since you were finished with hair and makeup, but you saw no free spot, so you had to be creative.

“I’ll go get changed in one of the other rooms,” you told Rosa before you walked out, down the hallway looking for an open and empty room you could use as a changing room for just two minutes.

Luckily you found one just two doors down the room Rosa and the girls were getting ready and taking a look around you made sure no one saw you sneak in there. It seemed once it was used as a smaller conference room, but now it was filled with boxes and extra chairs, looking more like a storage room. It was just fine for a quick change.

You quickly got rid of your plain shirt and jeans along with your bra since the dress had one sewed into it. You stood there, already in your dress as you were trying to get the zipper up, but it seemed like it got stuck.

“Great,” you grumbled, still jumping around hoping to find an angle where it slides right up, but it was stubbornly staying in the same spot. You were just about to gather your stuff and go back to the bride’s room and have someone zip you up when the door flew open and a tall, curly haired guy appeared with a suit on a hanger on his arm and a pair of shiny shoes in his other hand.

You jumped at the stranger’s arrival and he seemed just as surprised to see someone here as you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

His British accent was thick through his words and it immediately made you think that he must be Harry, Steven’s best friend. You’ve heard about him before but never actually got the chance to meet him. Now standing in front of him with your back almost fully exposed you can’t help but feel a little shy. He surely has an intimidatingly handsome face and physique that shows even though his loose hoodie.

“I just snuck in here to get changed, I was just about to leave,” you explained yourself, holding your previous clothes to your chest along with the front of the dress so it didn’t fall.

“Your dress is… unzipped,” he pointed it out with a soft chuckle and you looked over your shoulder as if you had to check it for yourself, but you knew it well it was in fact unzipped.

“Oh, yeah. The zipper got stuck, I’ll just… have one of the girls help me.”

“Come here, let me help you,” he offered and you hesitantly, but turned around to show him your back.

His hold fingers made you jump a little when he reached for the zipper.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and you just shook your head letting him know it was alright.

It took him a few tries to get the zipper going, but it finally gave in and slid all the way up. Once it reached the top Harry ran his fingers over it gently as if he sealed it, the touch of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning around. “I’m… Y/N by the way,” you told him, holding out a hand that he took and shook with a charming smile on his soft looking, pink lips.

“Harry. You’re Rosa’s sister, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Steven’s best friend.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look a lot like Rosa, if I might say.”

“We get it a lot. It’s the eyes, I think,” you told him. You and Rosa more or less have the same eyes and maybe share a similar jawline too that makes it pretty obvious that you two are sisters.

“Two sets of pretty eyes,” he smiled and your eyebrows rose at the compliment, feeling the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks.

“I… better get going, so you can change too,” you told him turning away and rushing to the door before he could realize how nervous he just made you.

“See you around, Pretty Eyes!” he called out after you.

 He called you Pretty Eyes quite often that evening. Whenever you met at the bar, when he sat next to you through dinner, when the two of you talked outside, a little farther away from the people having a smoke. But the last time he called you that was when the two of you were heading to his room, he was all over you, kissing you anywhere he could, hands gripping your waist greedily as you were trying to open the door with the card he handed you in the elevator. That was the last time he called you that. You haven’t heard this nickname from him since then.

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[absoluteindulgence]

AFK (Away From Keyboard)

A/N: My contribution to September’s first Freaky Friday (18+). New icon, who dis? I worked non-stop on this story; hopefully, y’all like it!

Pairings: Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Quarantine Blues

Word Count: 3.4K

Quarantine hasn't been easy on you. You lost your job due to your line of work not being considered 'essential.' Although bummed about it, because it was a means to an end, you remembered the times you complained about the work and how some other workers didn't treat you fairly.  But the realization of being home with your fiance, Mirio, had sparked comfort. Until you found out, he still had to work.

The pain of having to stay home alone while your sunny beau worked 24-Hour shifts every other day, saving lives as he remained one of the most reliable Firemen in Japan. You felt the sadness and loneliness from him not being home for so long. And most days, you stayed in bed, too sad to move around the empty home.

With time, you habitually set a routine, eat, sleep, check social media, then back to sleep. Until you came across a group chat accepting all and any fans of a game you fancied, it had been some time since you played, not having the energy to drag your ass out of the plush, king-size bed. You pondered whether to grab your laptop from your dusty work bag in the corner of your bedroom. Or to make the trip to your living room with your HQ computer.

Of course, you went for the latter. Throwing on your robe, walking to the living room seemed like a long trip, but sitting at the master computer made your nerves settle. Starting up the machine, you fiddle with your phone chatting with your new-found internet friends. After logging in, the rest was history.

You spent so much time online that the days where Mirio was home and not tired that you were too busy gaming to stop—practically ignoring him as he came within close contact of your hunched over body. You became a complete zombie to your favorite game that no longer became your hobby but now your never-ending job.

You clocked in and out, only being away from the screen to rest and use the bathroom. It became a problem that even Mirio could see; he didn't want to press the issue so harshly since he knew how the long hours had affected you, but seeing how less attention he got when home for more than 8-hours became troublesome.

Tonight, Mirio came home earlier than expected, his high energy shone throughout the home, yet you didn't flinch from your spot. Too focused on the glowing screen, to look his direction as he creeps up onto your left side with a delicate, yet tender kiss to your temple.

"Good evening, my love, have you eaten?" His bouncy, upbeat voice knocks you out of your trance.

You look up at him with low energy, replying with a mumble, "No."

"That's too bad, but no worries, I'm gonna order some food. Do you know what you want?" He walks away, fiddling with his phone, taking off his work uniform simultaneously.

You shrug with a monotone groan, your new way of saying that you have no preference. In case Mirio can't hear you, you utter louder, "I don't care."

"Okay, Babe, well, I guess I'll get your usual favorite." His grin is apparent when he speaks, playing off not getting acknowledged the way you used to before finding your obsessed hobby turned job.

You nod without notice and clack away at your keyboard, enamored in the chatroom. You occasionally smile while grabbing for your gaming controller; you're ready to start up another game as your group chat invites you. Happily obliging them, you've been added to the team and play a couple of rounds.

So focused on the game, you didn't hear your blond beau answer the door and walk to the kitchen as he carried two substantial brown paper bags with handles. He deftly set the bags onto the island counter, pulling out each takeout container with the same enthusiasm.

"Hey, Babe, dinner's here!" Your Sunshine called out to you from the kitchen.

Glued to your computer screen, you stammer, "O-okay, Babe, I'm coming."

Lying through your teeth, you sit unfazed by the world around you and only concentrate on what's in front of you. It is a crucial time as you're close to completing the umpteenth goal, your posture struggling as you slouch near the monitor to see better.

The site is genuinely unbecoming and catches Mirio's eye; he comes from behind, hugging you while grabbing onto your wrists. The sudden warmth shocks you but doesn't stop your fingers from shifting. A huff leaves Mirio's breath, tickling your neck's nape as he moves closer to its left side. His large hands grip your controller, nearly covering yours. It's vexatious, to say the least, your quest is near completion with an unbeatable high score.

Even with his hands on yours, you still maneuver the controller, eager to finish. No longer connected to your headset, you feel the sunny man nuzzle his nose close to your ear. A sensitive, weak spot that he's using as a means of leverage. Goosebumps emerge from your neck to your chest down to your arms as you try your best to overlook the familiar sensation.

A slightly annoying groan buzzes out his throat as you feign his attempts to distract you. He applies the slightest pressure to your hands, where you're no longer in control of your joypad movements.

"Since you're not ready to eat yet, I'd thought I'd help you instead." He smiled warmly, yet you felt on edge. "Don't worry, Babe, I got this!"

As you slightly turned to look at him, he portrayed a game face. He seemed confident to beat your current quest, his hands moved as if he knew what to do, so you relaxed. Turning back to the monitor, you watched in the marvel of his hidden gamer skills; he maneuvered so flawlessly that you were shocked. Until he died, on your last life, sending your game character to the loading screen.

"Mirio, what the hell?" You squeal in annoyance, louder than expected. "That was my last life!"

He musters out a roar of laughter that only infuriates you further as you cross your arms with a huff. "Aw baby, I'm sorry. I thought I had it, but it turns out I didn't know the controls that well."

He cuddles you close to his warm chest, still resisting his advances, he snuggles you tighter than his original bear hug. You try to wiggle your way out of his loveable grip as he chuckles at your efforts. He pulls you away from the master computer, using the handles on the rolling game chair you bought together one weekend. 

He turns the chair around to survey your irritated, flustered face. "Hey, don't be mad. I just wanted to enjoy the game just like you. I see how enthralled you've been and wanted to see what the hype was about."

You're silent with a bratty pout on your lips, which he doesn't take seriously and plants a brief, loving kiss onto your forehead. He beams as he gets a better look at you: You grabbed one of his firemen in training sweatshirts earlier that day after taking a shower.

"I see that my Sunshine couldn't help but to represent me while I'm away at work." A sneaky grin stretched across his scruffy, blond stubble.

"If I told you I grabbed anything just to get closer to playing my game, would you believe me?"

"No, I wouldn't," He chuckled, "I know how much you miss me when I'm away."

His stare was a tad intense after finishing his reasoning, catching you off guard. Your antics of irritation cracked as you dropped your arms and rested your hands onto your thighs. You couldn't crack a smile; all the days blurred into one as you couldn't fathom being alone at home. That loneliness you ran away from came back to spill all of your secrets.

"You're right." Little droplets of water left your eyes, "I've missed you so much. I know that you're busy saving the world one fire at a time, but since this Quarantine, I've wished for us to be together, not that I wanted you to lose your job. I just wanted us to spend more time."

"I've been suffering in silence, not knowing what to say to you as you asked me if I was okay. I thought I could get better all by myself, and yet nothing was enough." You were sobbing between words, no longer able to keep your composure. "I finally dragged myself out of bed, trying to get comfortable. And I got carried away."

You wiped your eyes of tears, focusing on your breathing as much as possible. Trying not to draw out a panic attack, you felt a warmth come from all over. Mirio held you close to him, undistracted by you sitting in the chair. He exhaled heavily, kissing the side of your face with regard.

"I'm sorry that you held on to all that pain, Sunshine. It was never my intent to make you feel alone." He held onto you tighter, "There's not a minute, no, a second that passes by, that I don't think about you. "

The warmth from his burly arms and chest eased your heart, feeling safe and wanted. Your soon-to-be husband readjusted his hands to lift you out of the gaming chair. With a gentle grip, you were in his arms, cradled close to his chest. The blond looked down at you with a passionate smile, producing your heart to skip a beat. Mirio carried you bridal style until entering the bedroom you shared, considerately laying you down onto the bed. With so much space on the mattress, you wondered why you were the only one laying on it. Glancing upon your love near the footboard, you recognized his exact mood.

"Please, let me show you how much I've missed you." He slowly unbuckled his pants, "I've had so many thoughts about what I wanted to do to you."

His look went from lighthearted to a serene, sensual gaze. It's as if laying you on the bed changed his demeanor, creating a severely lustful tone to the air. Laying on the mattress, you felt yourself go into heat, just staring back at the blond beau. His face colored an incredible hue of pink as he pulled off his shirt, too impatient to keep it on any longer.

You stare in awe as the man of your dreams crawls on top of you. Bunching up the sweatshirt, he pushes the fabric up above your breasts set to litter them and your lips with fleeting kisses, prolonging your divine flesh cavern. Your peaks are between his callous hands as his nose pokes at your abdomen, inhaling their essential fragrance. You giggle under your breath at his prickly stubble tickling your skin.

"I've missed your pillows so much, Sunshine." He muffles, erupting laughter out of you. "Yeah, get all your giggles out now, Baby. Because in a moment, I'm gonna make you holler."

Kisses trace down your body, along your hips; although his kisses feel like a rush, they're thorough in savoring every part his lips touch and occasionally sticking his tongue out to lick the bare sections of your stomach. A gasp gets caught in your throat, and Mirio groans in response. It's evident; your body's pleasure gets handled like a refined, care package.

Reaching the waistband of your generic bottoms, he slid them off with little consideration of the fabric. No protest whatsoever as to his tug at your dainty boyshorts hastened another groan to his lips. His eyes glimmered, looking at your panties, admiring the soft, satin-like material popping out so lovely onto your skin tone.

"It's like you wore all this to taunt me, Sunshine." He chuckled under his breath, "Now you're in for it."

A hastily gentle pull to your panties made for a head-turning transformation, looking at Mirio now between your legs with his slippery, wet tongue on your pink pearl. Your thighs clamped shut onto his head as he feverishly licked at you with no hesitation as if the goal to make you cum was more important than breathing.

Your short breaths turned into loud gasps and moans, echoing the room with a ringing back into your ears. Your audio sent shockwaves through Mirio, pushing him to keep going and not stop until you made a mess around his mouth. Quick licks to your clit hardened your core so tightly you felt your stomach would resemble your blond hero's abs.

"You taste, so divine, my love."

Each word between each lick set out to destroy the sanity within you. The overstimulation drives you over the edge into massive wails as you try to push Mirio's head from between your legs. His grip moves from your hips to your thighs firmly. The warmth of his palms settles your need to keep him from helping you reach paradise.

That doesn't stop the sweat from dripping off your body or your bud from pulsing between his soft, thin lips. Reaching your peak, you clench onto his hair, moaning out his name, "M-mirio!"

Calling out to him made his tongue go into turbo mode. And with no warning, united two fingers into your slippery, silk igloo. A luxurious howl left your lips as you focused on your breathing, no longer holding onto his hair, but your breasts. Pinching at your nipples caused Mirio to look at you with concupiscence. His thick fingers were less than forgiving as you contracted around them and squirmed.

The tension building within your core couldn't manage the pumps advancing in you or that relentless tongue belonging to your sunny beau. Ready to burst, you cry out, "I need to cum!"

Nothing could prepare you for the orgasm you had: with eyes clenched closed and legs spread wide, hands clenched to the bedsheets, you blasted a grand amount of squirt infused cum out of your body.

Mirio's eyes widen as he pulls back to flick your clit back and forth using his right hand, spraying your love juice all over the sheets. Pushing out your last robust grunt before your legs collapse. Your breath hitches in your throat as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Damn, Sunshine, that was amazing." Mirio sits up, looking down at your worn-out body. His attraction for you gets the best of him as he puts his fingers in his mouth while keeping eye contact, "You even taste amazing too."

An arousing shockwave stings through your body as you look back into his beautiful, cerulean eyes. With little energy, you roll your index finger for him to come closer to you. He leaps at the opportunity, mushing his still wet face onto your sweaty one, scattering kisses over your lips and neck. He positions your legs for his love rod to glide into your aching junction in the moment's heat.

"Are you ready, Beauti-"

"-Yes, Mirio, don't make me wait any longer."

Your seductive face said all that your muscular fiance needed to hear. He slid his charmer in painfully slow, observing your hungry gaze, urging him to get harder and bottom you out immediately. Grunting in unison, came right after as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You kissed along his exposed neck, making light nibbles along his right side.

"F-Fuck."

His hips pivot into you, and a light moan fled your mouth as you prepped for his roughhousing. Leniency out the window as the sloshing from your essence screamed 'keep going!' to your blond hunk. So he obliged you: Acting as a home decorator, rearranging your furniture with each thrust. Your brows furrowed from the sensual pressure placed inside as you looked back into his eyes; the smirk on his equally sweaty face was too smug. Your face was always a dead giveaway to how much you enjoyed him; these nights were no different.

"Tell me how much you love when I'm deep inside you, Baby."

"Don't make me say it, Mir-, I'm a-already showing you." The heat was going straight to your head as he put you on the spot. If you could hide your face, you would.

"Oh no, my Sunshine. You don't get to avoid this." He raised his body off your frame, lifted one of your legs to sit up straight on his bulky chest, grinding into your junction with a rapid, rugged motion.

All words escaped you; keeping up the pace was all too hard as he rolled his hips into you, ruthless and playful all at once. The grip on your leg firm with each pump is very calculated and delicate. licking his lips, he asked, "Will you admit it now?"

Tucking in your lips, you shake your head in detest. It was unbelievable, and Mirio knew it; his chuckle echoed through the bedroom, "Okay."

Positioning your legs to point west from his Adonis belt, he maneuvered himself to stay connected to your golden arches. His last straw and ultimate trump card, fucking you from the side as he smiled from above you. The position relative to hitting it from the back, but with enough spine power, you can see your firemen in action. The clutch to your waist always took you for a ride, a prime example of your fiance's strength and control.

Soaked was an understatement as your muffled whines turned into hoarse wails of satisfaction. Just when you thought you lost your voice after the lip service, your ass bouncing off Mirio's skin flute created an orchestrated symphony of lovemaking reverberating through the house. Your neighbors would have to understand; there's no holding in how incredible this sexual bond is.

"I concede, Baby." While holding onto his forearm, you passionately gawk, "You feel so good deep inside of me!"

Self-satisfied, his movement accelerated, "That's what I like to hear, Sunshine."

The harmony of skin slapping, your juicy cream canal is sloshing against his cock, the various moans and grunts you're exchanging, setting you on edge. His eyes have a deep blue gaze, leaking of an overly seductive spirit.

"Fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close. Tell me how bad you want me to pound your pretty pussy, and I will."

"Mirio, please," You grab onto one of his hands, freeing them from the grip on your thigh and placing his thumb into your mouth while sucking it, "Put my fire out."

Ironically igniting him with a trump card of your own, his pace heightened past your comprehension. Once again, your coil wound up, becoming tighter with each thrust, unbearable to endure for another moment and remaining to suck Mirio's thumb in hopes of feeling sweet deserved deliverance. The pounds from Mirio's powerful thighs were likening heavily wooded paddles sure to leave a mark.

A charge of sexual energy swelled between you two as your bodies went into a complete frenzy. The hand on your thigh moved up onto your waist with more intensity placed to your backside and your core getting the brunt of it all. Feeling Mirio expand and twitch inside indicated how close he was, and your coil had just snapped. Mirio pulls out of you, shooting his load all over your ass and thighs.

The warm puddle of white gold spills over to the front of your leg, trickling down your thighs; you watch as your fiance readjusts himself, "Shit, that was a lot. Let me get a cloth."

Less gracefully, he rolls off the king-sized bed disappearing out the room and returning with a stack of baby wipes. The cleanup is gentle and thorough as you smile at him, still savoring your orgasm. He throws them away into a trash bin near his nightstand, noting to flush them later. He crawls behind you, cradling your naked body close to his. You're melting within his embrace, feeling complete comfort.

"You know, Babe," He rubs your thigh soothingly as you quietly hum, "You didn't tell your teammates what happened after you died."

"Well, I can tell them tomorrow, no big deal."

"Well, you're right, but what if I told you, you weren't on mute?"

Your eyes shot open, "What?"

"I'm kidding, Babe! You unplugged your headset, remember?"

"Mirio, my heart just dropped to my ass, please don't scare me like that."

His familiar laugh vibrated through the room, "Sorry, Babe, I couldn't help myself! Are you ready to eat now? We've worked up quite the appetite."

He lazily winked, you giggled and nodded, "I hope you got my favorite!"

"So you heard, nothing I said when I got home, huh?"

"I didn't say that." You try to hide your face, resulting in Mirio tickling you into admitting it.

[yikestripes]

For the First Time

humans of tumblr, friends and fans of my blog, mamma mia here we go again. ya girl is BACK and better than ever with her new obsession, criminal fuckin minds. this was such a fun one shot to write; enjoy!

Summary: You’ve been working for the FBI for 3 years now, and have never seen the sights. Spencer,  of course, volunteers to take you along for a wild ride. 

“Spence!” You called as you entered the BAU, your bag swinging wildly on your shoulder as your crazed (Y/E/C) eyes searched for the lanky doctor. Although it was mildly quiet despite the typing on a few keyboards and phones ringing here and there, the office was nowhere near as excitable and filled as it usually was on a Friday morning. The man in question poked his head out of the break room, quickly accompanied by the rest of his body as he strode across the catwalk.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?” He materialized at your side and held out a coffee mug with your name on it. You grabbed it gratefully and sucked down a few gulps before recollecting your thoughts.

“I was up half the night thinking about it, and I think I finally understand!” Spencer gave you a confused look, scrunching up his face as he thought through whatever it was he said that could have confused you.

Compared to the other members of the BAU, you were the only one who understood what he was saying at least 95% of the time- something that Spencer found both impressive and is what initially drew him to you. Here you were, 3 years later, on the anniversary of your joining the BAU. Little did you know that this was the day Spencer had realized his feelings toward you were a lot more than friendly. Nevertheless, the boy genius was terrified of how you would react, whether that be to laugh at him or possibly worse- feel sorry for him.

Taking in the confused look on his face, you giggled and your hand flew to his arm in excitement.

“The Star Trek theory you were talking about to Morgan and I yesterday- I finally figured it out!” Spencer smiled and took a careful sip of his coffee, taking in the easy-going smile that was plastered across your face and the accompanying gleam in your eyes. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, something that based on his current job, was very apparent to him. He could spend hours staring into your eyes, whether it be to distinguish each different color that presented itself and understand why your particular set of eyes were so beautiful, or to finally get some sort of a grasp on why he fell so hard for you so quickly. It would take a lifetime, he thought, to finally understand what made you so different from all the other people he had met in his lifetime.

Meanwhile, you had been going on for a solid 3 minutes about his Star Trek theory, he could only nod along, buried so far in his own thoughts that he couldn’t even hear you.

“You know?” You finally said, taking a second to catch your breath. Just like Spencer, you had a hard time with knowing when to stop talking without being told to do so. You tended to ramble, so if no one stopped you, you would go on forever.

Spencer simply smiled.

“Yeah. I know.”

Several hours had passed when you were finally able to move the mountain of paperwork from your desk to Hotch’s. You grinned, this was one of your favorite parts of paperwork days. You fiddled with the stack in your hand to reach up and knock on Hotch’s door, when you heard him already saying come in from the other side. He knew you were coming, considering how clockwork-like your work habits were.

“Hey Hotch, these need to be processed for Monday.” Hotch tried his best not to crack a smile at the smirk displayed on your face, and give you the pleasure of making him laugh. He thought you were hilarious, constantly having everyone in stitches throughout the day to make the reality of your careers a little less heavy- which is one of the reasons every person at the BAU loved you immediately. You were sarcastic and creative, and had great dad jokes to boot, ready at any opportunity.

“Thank you. Does Garcia need to see any of this to upload it into the system?” He asked, returning to the stone man he was previously.

“Nope.” You popped the P as you headed towards the door.

“(Y/L/N).” Hotch said. You turned around and he hadn’t even looked up at you. “You did some excellent work this week; grab Reid on your way out, I don’t want to see either of you for at least 3 days.” You grinned and wished him a good weekend, as he watched you walk out smiling. He shook his head and buried his head back into his work.

“Hey Professor,” You called as you bounded down the stairs. Reid flashed you a tight lipped smile as he so often did, and raised his eyebrows in response to the nickname.

“We’re done for 3 whole days!” You said as you packed your stuff haphazardly into your backpack. Spencer grinned and began packing his own things much more meticulously.

“Do you have anything exciting planned for this weekend?” He asked.

“Nah, unless you count going home to Gerald something exciting.” You said with a laugh. Reid smiled at the thought of the orange tabby that was oh so fond of him.

“Did you know that cats are actually an excellent judge of character? In a newspaper article I read from the early 90s, cats are actually extremely perceptive of humans upon first or second meeting, meaning that they can distinguish between good and bad based on a human character and emotion.” He said.

“I KNEW my cat hated Steven for a reason!” You said, recalling how your cat would do nothing but glare and his at your ex boyfriend, who ended up using you. “Do you have anything going on?” You asked. Spence shook his head, before looking at you with a small grin.

“How long have you been living in Virginia?” He asked.

“I don’t know, 3 years? Whenever I started working here I guess, why?” You hadn’t really given it much thought, it seemed like whatever life you had been living before this one seemed so far away. It hadn’t originally occurred to you that today was your 3rd anniversary of being with the BAU, and meeting Spencer.

“Have you ever been to the tourist sights?” He asked, pausing his stride outside of the elevator. You thought about it for a minute, and realized quickly where he was going with this.

“Nope! I always thought they were way too crowded for me whenever I got the free time to go.”

Spencer grinned. “Well then, Miss (Y/L/N), today is your lucky day.” You grinned back. No idea could have been better for your third anniversary of knowing and secretly loving Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had parted ways at your cars to shower and change, before meeting up around 8 pm so Spencer could show you around without tourists.

His hands were deep in his pockets as usual, as he carefully explained each monument in great detail. Considering you were a history major in college before going to FBI training and schooling, you were appreciative of Spencer’s long winded rambling, even able to inject your own knowledge in the quiet moments.

“And last but certainly not least, one of my favorite places in the city.” He said as you entered the World War II memorial. The water from the fountain was glistening in the moonlight as you took a deep breath, both from the breathless feeling Spencer gave you whenever he was around, and the sight before you. The stars and the moon lit up the night sky before you as the memorial itself framed it. No wonder this was one of Spencer’s favorite spaces, it was breathtaking. Then again, so was he. Very fitting.

“Spence…” You began, unsure where to go. You took a seat on the stairs behind you and took in the feeling in that moment, where you felt so relaxed and happy, beside your favorite person in the world.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said, looking at you and smiling softly. “Really, really beautiful.” he whispered. You glanced in his direction to see his attention was focused on you, not the sky or the fountain beneath it. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“(Y/N),” Spencer swallowed hard and licked his lips quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous about something he had to say. “I-I don’t know how to say this but I’ve kind of been in love with you for about 2 years now. Sure, I knew you were beautiful the first day you stepped into the BAU but once I got to know you, the real you, when you really let your guard down and allowed me to fully understand how truly intelligent, kind, and hilarious you are is when I fell hard for you and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I’ve always been so afraid that you wouldn’t fe-” You grabbed Spencer’s face and pressed your lips onto his, immediately feeling him soften into the kiss after a moment of anxious surprise.

You pulled away first, your eyes wide and your mouth hanging slightly agape. Spencer just looked mildly surprised, before softening into a shy smile.

“I love you too, Spence. I knew the day I met you, that you were going to be the most unforgettable human being I had ever known.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb gently across his cheek.

“Um,” He looked down and flicked his eyes upwards, gently tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “Can I kiss you again?”

You grinned and met him halfway, the second kiss equally as sweet as the first.

[ohdearhiddles]

request: can you do a one shot where Tom is filming for some new series or something and hasn’t answered his phone all day and he gets super apologetic because he doesn’t want the reader to feel like he’s ignoring her??

TITLE: Deserving Better

WORD COUNT: 1728

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: literally the tiniest amount of angst possible, and kinda fluffy towards the end -- also this is my first time posting a one shot to this account so i hope its not too shabby (( i also already posted this but messed up so here it is again oops ))

You were never one to complain about people’s schedules, even when they made you feel slightly lonely. Everyone around you, including yourself, had a life outside of just friendships and romantic relationships. This was something you had to constantly remind yourself every time you found that your texts and calls were going unanswered for hours, sometimes days, on end. It was something you silently chanted to yourself especially now.

It was a typical Friday for you, a rare day off from work, that was meant to be completely stress free. Today was supposed to be no exception to this “no stress” rule you had made for off days; however, no matter how much you tried, relaxing just wasn’t on the agenda. You had woken up to a sweet text message from your most recently acquired boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston. Although the two of you had only known each other for a few short months, it felt as though you both had found your endgame. This wasn’t spoken in conversation, of course, but it was obvious in the way you treated each other that there was something between you that neither of you had found in anyone else.

You were sitting on the sofa in the comfiest clothes you could find, snacking on some popcorn as the 4th movie of the day’s credits rolled across the screen. It was 8:03pm, and for some odd reason you couldn’t shake this weight on your chest no matter how much you tried. Tom had started filming at 9am, he had told you this in the text. Surely they had finished their filming by now, right?

Sighing, you grabbed your phone from between the couch cushions where you had purposefully shoved it in hopes that you wouldn’t stare at it all day. You carefully read the text he sent again:

“Good morning, darling. You’re probably sleeping still, I hope this text doesn’t wake you. I start filming at 9, but text me whenever you wake up.”

You read the text a couple more times just for the sake of feeling the wave of happiness it sent through you. Seconds later, you decided to put the phone back where you had it a minute ago. 

Tom was a thoughtful man, always caring, always sweet. When the two of you started dating, he made it clear that he would be quite busy right off the bat, but he would try his hardest to make time for you. After a string of bad relationships, you weren’t so sure of the idea of dating an actor, let alone an actor that was quite well known. Tom was extremely convincing, though.

Well, to be honest, you didn’t need much convincing. All he really had to do was look into your eyes, kiss the back of your hand, and smile his award-winning smile. That was all it took to sweep you right off your feet, and you didn’t regret it one bit. 

Tom was right, of course. He was extremely busy. One month after your first date, he was already planning on filming for a new series in the city. You shared your excitement with him with drinks, kisses, and a passionate night, but it didn’t stop you from feeling like this could be a test so early on in a relationship. The same question kept popping up in your head after that: 

Could you really handle not hearing from him all the time? Would he miss anniversaries? Birthdays? Holidays?

You kept telling yourself that yes, of course. That didn’t do much for your mind in the long-term as the days passed. Tom had already called for a rain-check on date night once or twice in the past couple months. You had brushed it off for the most part because it could be much worse.

He had told you to text him when you woke, and you did. At least, you could have sworn you did. Groaning at your own impatience, you quickly grabbed the phone again to make sure you had hit send on the text from this morning. You did. You also saw that you definitely hit send on the text you sent at 3:21pm, asking whether or not Tom had eaten lunch. He probably didn’t.

You gently tapped the message box for the millionth time since you woke up. There were multiple texts that you had almost sent throughout the day, but the last thing you wanted to do was seem clingy when he already told you that he was going to be busy. Realistically, you knew he wasn’t ignoring you, but in the back of your head you had already begun to worry if he was tired of you when he had so many beautiful celebrities in his midst at all times. He wasn’t a typical man that you meet and go on a few dates with, and you knew this very well.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, dancing in the air as you thought of something, anything, to say that was enough reason to text. Slowly but surely, you decided that it was probably best to just ask if they were done filming yet. So that’s what you did.

As the 5th movie of your day began coming to a close, meaning that it was most likely close to 11pm, you wondered if Tom was ever going to answer his phone. He hadn’t gone this long not responding before and that thought only made it worse in your mind. What if he was now completely annoyed that you had asked if they were done filming? As silly as the thought was, you couldn’t help but contemplate it. Just as you finished running through the endless possibilities from his annoyance to him somehow ending up hospitalized, your phone began to ring. 

Upon picking up the device, all the worries vanished from your mind. A cheeky photo of Tom kissing your temple showed on the screen: his contact photo. You let out a breath you had probably been holding all day right as you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” You answered the call, a sheepish grin on your face as if to hide your embarrassment.

“Y/N, darling, I am so sorry for not answering your texts.” Tom’s voice poured through the phone. He sounded frantic, every word seemingly rushing in order to explain himself. “I left my phone in my car and by the time I realized I left it, we were starting to film.”

“It’s alright,” you said. Ten minutes ago, it most certainly wasn’t alright, but you wouldn’t let that show especially with him sounding so flustered about the situation. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“No, no,” he shushed you, “I even told you to text me when you woke up, but I didn’t have the blasted thing on me. Love, please forgive me.”

You let out a small laugh, “All is forgiven.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed on.

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Then,” he drew out the word as something in the background of the call began rustling, “I suppose I should go back home.”

Confused by his statement, you sat up. Tom was quite unpredictable, and for some reason you felt as though he was up to something right now.

“Home? Are you not home yet?” You asked, trying to hide the overwhelming curiosity that had taken you over.

“Well, not quite, I got some Chinese take out in hopes that my girlfriend would forgive me of my wrongdoings,” he sighed dramatically through the phone, pausing for some dramatic effect. “But I guess that won’t be necessary since she says that I’ve already been forgiven.”

“No,” you rushed out, slipping off the couch and running towards your bathroom. Your hair was a mess and you looked as if you had just crawled out of bed. Granted, you had definitely been sitting on the couch for the past 10 hours, but Tom didn’t need to know that. If he saw you like this, though, he would definitely know that. “Not forgiven. I want the take out, give me a second.”

You could hear his laugh through the phone as the sound of his car door closing made you move ten times faster. You threw the phone onto your bed, running to the bathroom to fix your hair and gargle some mouthwash so that Tom wouldn’t be able to smell the hundreds of different snacks you had consumed in one sitting. A full minute passed before there was a knock at the door. Fumbling for your phone, you saw that he had already ended the call.

As quickly as you could, you went to open the door. The second your eyes fell on him, you stilled. It wasn’t just takeout; he had brought the entire brigade with him as an apology. He held a bouquet of your favorite flowers with the takeout in one hand, and in the other he held a bottle of wine. Tom smiled at the shocked expression on your face before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and letting himself inside.

After slipping off his shoes and placing the food and flowers on the table, he made his way over to where you stood. His tall frame loomed over you as he placed his hands on your hips, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“You didn’t have to go this far,” you said, head tilted to look at the small distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t I?” He breathed, pulling your body closer until his hands wrapped around your waist and rested at the small of your back. “I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you, I know how you get sometimes.”

You held your breath. Tom knew that your past relationships went sour because of lack of communication and because you had a tendency to overthink, but you never realized that he was taking that into account. It started to click in your mind as you recalled his promises to make time for you, to be there for you, and to try his hardest to make things work. He had done all of that for you, because he was thinking of you.

“Thank you,” you whispered perhaps too quietly for him to even hear it.

Tom heard it, and as he tilted your chin up to look at him, his smile showed that he did.

[4haechie]

mellifluous

(adj.) pleasingly smooth and musical to hear.

➵ request: hi! can i request au 1, trope 4, and prompts 16&17

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, best friends to lovers au, college au | 1,109 words | “stop looking at me like that.” + “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

➵ warning: swearing, mentions of alcohol and parties

➵ a/n: thank u for the request! i hope u like it ♡

want to request? check this post out!

monday, five p.m.

“seriously, y/n, i’ve known you for my whole life, and never have you been this much of a party pooper.”

donghyuck, your best friend, is currently sat on the edge of your bed, while you’re sitting at your desk, trying to finish the essay you’ve been working on.

“well, maybe you don’t know me at all,” you respond.

donghyuck lets out the most exaggerated gasp you’ve ever heard and collapses on your bed dramatically, closing his eyes for emphasis. “i cannot believe you just said that.”

you roll your eyes, “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

he sits up again, walks towards your door and gives you one final look, “just think about it, okay? i think it’s a great idea. you could use a break, you know?” with that, he leaves you alone with your messy thoughts and your incomplete essay.

wednesday, three p.m.

you’re in his dorm the next time you see him, and he’s currently making you listen to his latest original song. well, soon-to-be song. he’s only got the melody down so far, but he just couldn’t wait to play it for you. right now, he’s at his keyboard, playing to his heart’s content.

the piano’s beautiful tunes caress your ears and you’re taken away to a safe haven. it’s like his hands were a godsend. he hums a little, in tune with his piano, and then starts to sing–probably lyrics he hasn’t quite finalised yet since he’s mostly humming. he sounds angelic, however. he sings like it’s the last time he’ll ever sing. like it’s just him under a lone spotlight, in front of a million people, them watching and listening as he becomes one with the music. he finishes his piece after some time and turns around to face you.

“what’d you think?” he asks you, his bottom lip subconsciously jutting out, forming a little pout. his eyes search yours; he doesn’t know that you’re too taken aback, too mesmerised by his melody to speak. “hello? earth to y/n?” he waves his hand back and forth in front of you. “stop looking at me like that, sheesh... i mean, i know i sing like an angel, but you’re looking at me like i invented the pi–”

“donghyuck...that was really beautiful. i don’t even have words,” you cut him off, close to tears.

his lips curl into a small smirk, “i have that effect on people.”

“god, you’re annoying,” you say, blinking the almost-tears away, biting back the smile on your lips.

“have you thought about friday?” he asks.

you wince, realising you forgot about what he asked of you. “no, not really. but i’m telling you–”

“no, i’m telling you, y/n. live a little,” he winks at you, going back to playing random notes on his keyboard.

your heart does little cartwheels in its cage, and you’re glad he isn’t facing you anymore because a natural, faint rouge dusts your cheeks.

friday, nine p.m.

friday night rolls around and you’re sitting on the couch in your living room, with your knees close to your chest, catching up on your favourite netflix show.

knock, knock, knock.

you furrow your brows, pick the remote up to pause the screen, and head to the front door. you hesitate at the knob; a part of you hopes it’s him, but you know that’s just wishful thinking.

you pull the door open and your breath gets caught in your throat. “what are you doing here?”

he pushes past you–why does he look angry? “stupid fucking college parties,” he runs a hand through his golden-brown locks. he leans his back against the kitchen island, taking a deep breath.

you close the door, puzzled, and walk over to him. you take his hand in yours, and softly ask, “what’s wrong? did something happen at the party?”

his gaze softens at the sight of your interlocked hands. “i’m glad you didn’t come. what was i thinking?”

you’re still confused, so you push him further, “donghyuck, calm down. tell me what happened, please.”

he locks eyes with you for a moment before speaking. “they played truth or dare, right? i thought it’d be fun, you know? like, it’s just truth or dare. i didn’t even drink anything. i thought, what could go wrong?” you nod, indicating that you’re listening. “but of course, some idiot had to ask this random girl who was playing to kiss her crush,” he pauses. “y/n, she kissed me. god, i didn’t even know what to think. she’s that girl from your shakespeare class–the one you can’t stand. i don’t even remember her name, jesus.” he takes a deep breath again. “the moment she kissed me, i knew i had to get out of there. i didn’t even think twice before coming here. i had to see you, y/n.”

you gulp and you lick your lips, unsure of what to say. “what are you saying, hyuck?”

he takes the hand that’s not interlocked with yours and runs it along your cheek. “i’m saying...that i wanted to see you, y/n.”

“you...wanted to see me...because?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs. “kissing someone who isn’t you...it bothered me.”

you feel your heart do that weird thing again–it bounces rapidly in its cage this time, going completely haywire. before you can make it stop, your heart controls you instead of your brain as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close into a kiss. he doesn’t hesitate for even a second, before grabbing your waist and tugging you closer.

he kisses you back like he’s been expecting it all along. one of his hands runs up and down your back gently, giving you goosebumps. you lean into him, exploring each and every curve of his lips with your own. he smiles into the kiss and your heart soars. you feel as giddy as you did when hearing him sing and play the piano–maybe even more. then, he was singing his heart out, conveying his emotions through his song, but now, he’s hit a place closer than home. he’s kissing you like he means it, not because it’s some stupid dare at a party. he’s kissing you because he wants to.

he pulls away first, but his arms don’t leave your waist. “now, that was much better,” his voice is as smooth as honey.

you curl your hand into a fist and lightly punch his chest, making him clutch it in mock pain. “i guess it’s safe to say that our friendship is officially ruined.” you say, reaching up to play with his messy hair.

“that doesn’t mean we can’t be more than friends.”

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : Happy Finan Friday my friends! Alright it's still thursday to most of yall, but it isn't in France anymore and I was to excited to post to wait the morning lmaoo. I had so many good feedbacks on chapter one, you all can’t imagine how happy it made me! So as you noticed, I like to change the moodboard for each chapter, I hve fun making this ahah, I hope you all don’t mind!

Warnings : blood and death

Chapter 2 : There’s a truth and it’s on our side

Victoria blinks several times at the man standing right in front of her. Her eyes go down and up his body, analysing every inch of him and when she realizes he is wearing the same sweatshirt as the man in the bookshop, she’s panic-stricken. He doesn’t even have the time to say a word as she closes the door in his face and presses her back against it. Did this psychopath follow her to her home? She doesn’t see any other explanation, or maybe it’s just the one making the most sense. Because even if it's the guy from the bookshop, it doesn’t explain why he is the one she’s been dreaming of for a month now. Christ, things couldn’t get weirder. 

She gathers all the courage she has and shouts through the door. “Who the hell are you?”

She hears the man scoff, the sound attenuated by the door. “Ya wouldn’t trust me if I tell ya like this.” 

Her fingers nervously drum on her thigh. “Are you… Are you the “time traveller”?” This question would probably make her sound crazy, but a stranger knocking at your door after following you from your work place is undoubtedly crazier. The thought makes her realize that keeping talking to him maybe isn’t in fact the best idea, and as the man hesitates to answer, she looks around for her phone. 

“Hum… Yes kinda.” He replies and Vicky freezes. He doesn’t even deny, which confirms her assumption that he really is mad. “But I’m not really a time traveler.” 

Victoria frowns. “What do you mean?”

“That’s hard to explain to a door.” He jokes but Vicky doesn’t laugh, so he answers in a more neutral tone. “I think you and I are the same.”

“The same?” She repeats, her eyes finally falling on her phone. She walks aways from the door to take it from the table and leans against the door again. 

She starts to type the number of the police when he speaks. “It’s goin’ to sound really weird. But… I’ve seen ya in my dreams.” Victoria immediately pauses, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Her breath strangely accelerates as she considers his words.

“How can I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“Ya’ve been in a car accident. That’s the first dream I’ve got of ya.”

Victoria is breathless. She has spoken to no one about it, only giving lies, affirming her car has been stolen. She doesn’t know if his answer should reassure her or not, but she switches off her phone and slides it in her pocket before unlocking the door and opening it just slightly. “How do you know that?” She asks him, her voice between fear and curiosity. 

The man’s gaze is soft as he rubs the back of his neck. “Told ya, I dreamt of it. Maybe we could talk inside? It's better if there’s no one to hear us.”

Vicky hesitates, staring alternatively between him and the inside of her flat, until she finally moves away. Every part of her mind is screaming at her how bad an idea it is to let this strange, very strange man in, but her intuitions and curiosity are thinking otherwise. She has spent the weirdest month of her life, and something is telling her he would have the answers. 

“What’s your name?” She asks, closing the door behind him.

“Finan.” He smiles. “And ya’re Victoria?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I am.” She studies him from a decent distance, actually more like a safe one. He is every bit of the man she’s been dreaming of, tall, thick dark hair, a few scars on his face, strong shoulders and something she has grown to find endearing about him, his childish smile. She wonders if he knows she’s been dreaming about him as well, he would have probably already mentioned it if he did. “So, why do you think we are the same?” She asks, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Finan looks around, as if to be sure that there is no one else listening. “I think you died during your accident.” 

“What?” She exclaims, her eyes widening. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I was dead.” She answers, tilting her head at what seems to be obvious to her. 

“That’s why I said you died.” He replies, insisting on the last word. 

“So I came back to life?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard.” She says in an awkwardly neutral tone.

Finan rolls his eyes. “Then you should have a wound, anything that would prove you’ve had a crash. T’was quite violent of what I remember.” He raises an eyebrow and Vicky finds nothing to answer. He is right, she is miraculously alive, but the blood she found in the car and on her clothes doesn’t match that reality.

“How do you know all of that?” She asks again.

He moves forward but she immediately steps back. “I told ya, I think we’re the same. I died several times before.”

Vicky’s face twists in disbelief. “I can’t believe that.” She says. 

The man sighs, his shoulders falling heavily and looking up to the ceiling. “I guess I don’t have another choice than to make ya believe me.” He puts his hand in his pocket and removes a folding knife from it. 

“What are you doing?” She panics, stepping back even more.

He raises his hands in sign of peace. “Calm down, I won’t hurt ya.” He promises.

However, he unfolds the knife and to Victoria’s surprise he doesn’t try to attack her, but brings it to his neck. Finan takes a deep breath and murmurs something before sinking the blade in his throat, grimacing at the pain that occurs. A scream of horror escapes her as he falls to the floor, blood coming out of the wound and his mouth. She rushes to his side, removing the knife and pressing her hand on his throat to stop the bleedings.

“No, no, no, no… Stay with me, please.” She freaks out while Finan is bleeding to death on the floor of her flat, gasping for air. He holds her gaze, and in contrast to the time she dreamt of his death, he seems calm. With her other hand, she tries to find his pulse, but there’s nothing. “No…” She whispers, breathless. “No, no, no! You can’t be dead!” She starts to shake his shoulders and as he remains inert, she grabs her phone in her pocket and starts to tap the emergency number, trying not to tremble too much.

But before she can press on the green button, Finan takes a deep breath as if he is coming out of the water. Surprised, she drops her phone and falls back. He coughs several times, spitting blood as he sits up. Victoria can’t keep her wide opened eyes from him, especially when she notices how the wound in his neck heals by itself in a minute until there’s nothing, not even a scar. He wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and looks at the red puddle around him. 

“Hum… Sorry for the mess.” He apologizes as his eyes meet hers.

But Vicky can’t care less. “You were dead, and you’re fucking alive.” She whispers, not believing what she just witnessed.

“D'ya trust me now?” He asks her.

Vicky opens her mouth, but no sound comes out of it. She rubs her face with both her hands, not caring about the blood still on them. None of this makes sense, but it is undeniably real. “How did you do that?” She questions him, removing her hands.

Finan's gaze darkens for a brief moment. “I wish I knew.” He stands up, stretching his arms and her mind still can't grasp the fact that a few minutes ago he was dead. He walks towards her but he keeps the same distance she has settled before. “But I'm sure the same happened to ya.” 

Victoria looks up to him and there's some sort of joy sparking in his eyes to know she is like him and she wonders if until now, he has been the only one like this. She frowns, she knows nothing of him, but in a short time, he has revealed her every secret of what she could only call a superpower, and she feels like he deserves to know everything as well. 

“I dreamt of you too.” she says softly and it's Finan's turn to stare at her with wide eyes. 

He crouches in front of her. “Really?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously. “I saw your death too. But you were wearing a leather armour, fighting in a clearing during the night.” Finan's face becomes as pale as a ghost as she explains her own dreams. “And then you're stabbed from behind, and I can feel all the pain, how the life is leaving your body.” She is quite surprised she succeeds to actually put words on it, thinking of it still giving her thrills. “I dreamt of other things, during other periods of time, but you’re always there.” She concludes, looking up from her bloody hands to him. “What does it mean?” 

“I’ve no idea.”

They both say nothing for a moment, simply trying to understand all the information. Everything seems so surrealistic to Vicky but she can’t deny all of this somehow makes sense. She sighs, like it could clear her confused thoughts and looks at the amount of blood on her floor. 

“Hm… I think I should clean that.” She says, pointing vaguely at the area. 

Finan looks behind him, grimacing. “Aye, let me help ya with that.”

“Sounds fair after you killed yourself in my entrance.” She adds as she rises to her feet, Finan doing so as well, chuckling lightly. 

She walks to a closet and comes back with a mop and a bucket. While she fills it with hot water and a little bit of cleaning soap, she discreetly observes Finan. It’s really strange to see him in a modern outfit after dreaming of him so many times in Middle Age clothes. She frowns, this thought bringing a new question.

“I have a question.” She declares, stepping towards him with the bucket while he grabs the mop she has leaned against a chair.

“Ask it.” He sinks the mop into the water and wrings it out while waiting for her question. 

“When did you die?”

The corner of his mouth rises. “I told ya, I died many times.” 

Vicky rolls her eyes. “I mean the first time.” 

Finan pauses, stopping to clean her floor, his eyes darkening as earlier. “Sometime during the ninth century.” He answers finally.

She makes a strangled sort of noise. “The ninth century? You’re what? A thousand years old? You look barely thirty!”

“I guess I should take that as a compliment.” He chuckles but Victoria isn’t in the mood to share a laugh. 

“Oh fuck me, you must be kidding me.” She sighs, sitting on the nearest chair. “Are you the only one like this?” She hesitates on a word that describes what she means but can't to a better one than : “Immortal?”

Finan shrugs. “As far as I know, there was just me until now.”

“So we are two.” She points her finger at her chest and then his. “Just you and I.” He nods, pinching his lips in a thin line while she shakes her head. “That's fucking insane.” 

“You're tellin' me!” He exclaims exaggeratingly.

But again Victoria ignores his attempt of jokes to ask another question. “How did you find me?”

His cheeky smile fades and he leans on the handle of the mop. “Well, in my dreams I could see moments of your life and I just tried to put all the pieces together.”

“That's creepy.”

This time he is the one rolling his eyes. “Trust me lass, when you'll have kept living for a millennial, being creepy will be the least of your problems.”

“So it was you in the bookshop?” He nods. “And you followed me?”

“I did.” He admits, finished with cleaning the floor. “Alright, maybe it really is creepy.” Victoria raises her eyebrows, as if she's surprised by his affirmation. “But it never happened to me before, and I just… I just had an intuition.”

“Well, it's maybe the least weird thing you told me since you knocked at my door.” She sighs taking the bucket and the mop from his hands to empty it in the toilets. When she comes back after putting everything back into the closet she pays more attention to the blood staining Finan's sweatshirt and her own clothes. “I should change clothes.” She says, pulling the edge of one of her sleeves, already annoyed by the time it will take to clean it correctly. “I must have something for you.”

Finan raises, probably doubting any of her clothes could fit him as she is a head smaller than him. 

“From my ex.” She answers, clearly having read his mind. 

“Ah, yeah. Thank ya.”

She walks away to her bedroom, taking the first clothes she finds and changing, making a pile of the dirty ones. Then she pulls out of a drawer a sweater from her ex that she hasn't thrown away yet. Before coming back to the living room she stops in the bathroom to wash her hands and face from the dried blood. The water is enjoyable, the only thing constant during this day where all her truths are being riled. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, meeting her own green eyes. 

“Maybe it's just a dream.” She says softly and brings her finger to her mouth. She bites in it, hard enough to break the skin. She hisses when she tastes a drop of blood on her tongue. It wasn't a dream. 

Suddenly, knocks at her door startle her and she bursts out of the bathroom. Finan is still in the middle of the living room, looking between her and the door. He looks as panicked as her and Vicky points at the room she just walked out of. 

“Hide in the bathroom.”

Finan doesn't object, grabbing the sweatshirt she hands him on his way. Once she has heard the door of the bathroom closing behind him she rushes to the front door and slowly opens. 

“Becca? What are you doing here?” Victoria asks after recognizing her best friend. 

Rebecca raises a surprised eyebrow. “You seem pleased to see me. I texted you I was coming.” She says, waving the hand with which she's holding her phone. 

“Oh… I'm sorry, I didn't really check my phone.” Victoria rubs the back of her neck. “Anyway, what do you want?”

Rebecca narrows her eyes, warning her that she's sounding weird, so she straightens a little and plasters her best smile on her face. 

“I forgot my gym bag here, yesterday. I just wanted to get it back.”

“Yeah, sure.” Victoria moves away from the door and Becca steps in, patiently waiting for her best friend to come back with the bag. 

She searches in the living room but she becomes pale when she hears a noise from the bathroom. “Is there someone else here?” She hears Rebecca ask. 

At the time she answers, she has found the bag and is walking back to her, quite nervous. “No.” She replies dryly and oh, how bad she is at lying, especially to Rebecca.

Her friend's face breaks into a mischievous smirk. “Are you hiding a boy?” 

Vicky stares at her with wide eyes before scoffing. “Absolutely not!” She hands her the bag quite abruptly. “Here's your bag. Do you need anything else?”

The tan skinned woman studies her for a second, no doubt knowing she's lying and Vicky is sure will probably hear of it in the following days. “No, that's all.” 

As soon as she's gone, Victoria heaves a sigh and turns around when the bathroom door opens. 

Finan's head appears from the small opening. “Am I the boy she's talking about?” 

“Obviously not, you're a thousand years old, old man.” She snaps, joining him.“The hell were you doing?” She pronounces her last words slower as she notices that he is standing bare chested in front of her, his skin covered with scars. She tries to keep her gaze on to his face, the blood now washed away from his beard and neck. “Doesn't matter. Get dressed.”

Vicky waits patiently in the living room for Finan to come back. When he comes back he’s wearing an uncomfortable smile, one of his thumbs jammed in his trousers pocket while he has his dirty sweatshirt in his other hand. There’s an awkward silence but Vicky couldn’t care less, sitting on a chair, her elbows resting on her thighs and her hands sliding into her hair. Finan comes closer to her and gently puts his hands on her shoulder, she doesn’t push him away, even if she wouldn’t usually allow such proximity with a stranger.

“Maybe I should let ya alone, so ya can process everythin’.” He says softly and when she lifts her head his gaze is as soft as his voice. She nods and he squeezes her shoulder before stepping to the fridge and writting something on a post-it glued on it. “That’s the hotel where I sleep, if ya need anythin’.” 

“Thank you.” 

He leaves right after, and somehow, Vicky hoped that as soon as he’d leave things would appear to be just a big joke. But she looks at the finger she bit earlier and there is no mark of her teeth, no wound. Her skin is as soft and healthy as usual.

A/N : This chapter’s dialogues are clearly the base of this fic, espacially the “a thousand yo??!!” sksks, or Finan killing himself, as @maggiescarborough​ told me : a real drama queen. Anyway, see you next week for the next chapter ;)

Tag : @obipoelover​ @for-bebbanburg​ @naps4bats​ @osferth​ @maggiescarborough​ @finansarms​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby​

[lozzypoz321]

Steve Rogers| Stutter

Steve Rogers x child!reader

"H- ho- ow a- a- are y- yo- y- you?" The girl of (Y/A) spoke with her stutter, her name was in fact (Y/N) Rogers, daughter of Steven Grant Rogers and goddaughter to James Buchanan Barnes.

"I'm good thanks (Y/N), how have you been?" Bruce spoke, not looking up from the current experiment he was working on but listening all the same. "G- g- goo- good" (Y/N) responded while putting her school bag on the lab seat next to her uncle "J- just wai- wai- waiting f- for Dad an- and Unc- uncle B- Buck"

"Ice cream?" Bruce inquired, and huffed at something on the page of his notes then spun around to face the waiting girl. Ice cream on a Fridays after school had always been a routine when it came to the three, along with the movie marathon sleepover but we best not get into that.

"Y- y- yeah" (Y/N) stuttered out, staring down at the white counter intently so she could focus on her words "t- they sa- said they'd be h- here s- s- soon"

"Okay, you wanna wait?" Bruce said with and gave her a small smile, "y- yes p- p- please"

It took about 20 minutes for them to both arrive and once they did all three of them made their way immediately to the door, Bucky was walking at the front and (Y/N) at the back, a slow walker because of the difference in the length of strides.

"Come on (Y/N), we don't have all day" Steve said and picked up the girls hand, hoping it would speed up the walk. "W- w- what d-did you d- d- do today?" (Y/N) asked the men while, walking as fast as she could to keep up with them.

"Just the same boring stuff Медленный ходок" Bucky said while smirking (slow walker).

"W-w-what do- does that m- mean?" She asked and her legs started getting tired from speed walking all the way from the avengers tower, "it's means you should get a move on" the soldier chuckled, gesturing to the girls feet that were slowing down rapidly. "You know what маленький солдат" (little soldier) Bucky exclaimed "Why don't you just get on my back"

So she did, Bucky bent down and she jumped onto his back excitedly making Steve chuckle at his daughter "how's your words going (Y/N), getting better?"

She nodded quickly making Steve raise his eyebrow, "words" her father urged her which made the girl sigh in defeat "y- yeah, it's g- g- getting a- a bit better bu- but it's hard s- sometimes"

"You've just got to keep working on it princess" Steve said but mentally sighed. She'd been trying so hard to overcome it but it just wasn't working, it was cute to him but Tony got annoyed by it easily. One time he'd made her cry by yelling "hurry up" when she was stuck and another when she couldn't say a sentence and Tony told her to "get it out then!" but it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help it.

"A- a- are we ne- nearly t- th- there yet?"

"Close. We've been walking here for nearly a year now, how do you not know the way?" Bucky teased his goddaughter while the soldier next to him chuckled. "It's h- h- h- h- h- h- h-" she gave up trying to get her sentence out.

"Come on (Y/N), try again" Steve reassured her, while kindly smiling.

"It's h- h- h- h- h- hard" when she finally got the last word out, Bucky quirked his eyebrows up jokingly "is that what we've been waiting for?"

"Sh- sh- shut up"

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

When they finally arrived at the parlour, (Y/N) was nearly jumping with excitement, it may be a weekly thing for the family but she could never get enough of it, always exited about what's to come no matter how many times it's already happened. One of the many things everyone loved about her.

"What flavour маленький солдат?" Bucky asked while bending down to her height (little soldier). "(Y/F/F)!" She exclaimed while pointing to the same one she chose every time, and Steve chuckled, the cuteness overload making him smile.

"Two double cone's of chocolate and mint please" He asked the scooper politely "and one double cone of (Y/F/F) for the lady please"

The three took themselves to the usual table while discussing school with (Y/N). "How's maths going (Y/N)?" Steve questioned as they all sat down, "e- erm, i-it's o- o- o- okay I g- guess" she responded while shrugging nonchalantly causing Bucky to smile.

"They get on your nerves?"

"I- it's like s- s- s- sometimes they d- don't even p- p- p- p- p-" She took a deep breath "p- p- pay attention a- and then they g- get mad at m- me when I- I don't tell th- th- them the a- a- answer"

"Just ignore them princess" Steve told her as the lady brought over the ice cream causing (Y/N) to start grinning like an idiot. "Taste good?" Steve teased her as she began working her way through it, but all she could do with a mouthful of ice cream was to nod enthusiastically.

Then the grin on her face turned into agony "b- b- b- b- brain f- freeze" she stuttered out, to the men that were now laughing. "It h- h- h- hur- hurts"

"Well when I got a brain freeze last time you both laughed" Bucky exclaimed making (Y/N) laugh once again at the thought. Steve was about to go ask (Y/N) if she had any home work when a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Hey Mr Rogers, Mr Barnes. Hey (Y/N)" the voice belonged to a certain teenage boy.

"Hey Peter, what are you doing here?" Steve asked while (Y/N) smiled brightly at the boy she claimed as her older brother.

"I'm just getting some ice cream Mr Rogers-" he went to go on but was cut off by Steve "please Pete, call me Steve. Me Rogers makes me feel old". "But y- you ARE o- o- o- old dad" (Y/N) pointed out which made her did give her a exasperated look.

"I got the train back from school today, there was a fully working keyboard just laying on the floor!" Peter exclaimed excitedly while Steve nodded politely, Bucky raised his eyebrows and (Y/N) completely ignoring everyone else and still working her way through her ice cream.

By the time Peter had left, everybody had finished their treats, including Peter. And (Y/N) was getting stressed at being still too long. "Sometimes I wonder if you've got ADHD ya know" Steve commented when he noticed her leg bouncing up and down "d- d- don't think so"

"Come on them, we better get back" Steve announced while standing up and tucking his chair in. "Finally" Bucky groaned and followed his friends actions which made (Y/N) jump up "w- w- w- we going n- now?"

"Yep" her father answered and slipped her hand into his so she wouldn't get lost in the people outside who'd just come filling out of the pub across the street that he didn't want you even speaking to.

"I- I- I- I'm cold"

By now, the group had filed closer and both party's could hear what the other was saying which caused one of the men, obviously drunk to yell "ha! Stutter bitch!"

Bucky, outraged by him yelled across the street right back at him "Oi! Keep your mouth shut!"

Then the man faked stuttering "o- oh - oh I'm  s- so s- s- s- scared!" Which caused all his friends t laugh at his rubbish attempt at a joke. "Shut up! Leave us alone!" Steve yelled back, not one to back down from a fight.

All the shouting and anger was making (Y/N) slightly nervous, she began slightly tapping her fingers on her trousers in an attempt to calm herself down. Bucky noticed this and just dragged Steve away from the drunk group, not wanting to start a street brawl, which the two soldiers would easily win but not a safe place for a(n) (Y/A) year old. "Come on Steve, leave it"

"Idiots" Steve muttered under his breath and took his daughters hand back in his, once again. "A- a- a- a- a-a- a-" Bucky interrupted her "deep breaths маленький солдат" (little soldier). She followed his advice and began to breath more slowly and then tried again, all while still walking, "a- a- a- are we g- g- going back home n- now?"

"Yes princess" Steve answered and gave her hand a small squeeze for conformation. "You still up for our movie marathon tonight?" Bucky asked while turning around, walking backwards and wiggling his eyebrows.

"A- a- always"

written by me. Wattpad; @Lozzypoz321 Tumblr side acc; @PadfootBuckster Pinterest; @Lozzypoz321 

PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY WORK 💖

[purplesurveys]

1044

survey by a7xbabii 

Do you use e-mail often? I use it for eight hours, five days a week for work, so yes.

Do you hear any animals right now? I’m in a Starbucks inside a mall situated in the middle of a busy highway. It would be very unlikely to hear any animals right now.

Are you in a well-lit room? Sure, I’d say this establishment has good lighting. There’s no light directly above me unlike the other seats, but it’s okay in this case as I don’t want other people seeing me take surveys.

Is your trashcan full? The main one we use at home just got full, so the last time I checked this morning my mom was airing it out.

What was the last crunchy thing you consumed? My chicken barbecue sandwich from last night.

Did you view anything disturbing today? Hmm, I guess so? I wanted to entirely redo one part of my embroidery piece since I wasn’t happy with how I did it, so I had to remove the threads and stuff. When they were all gone the template was filled with holes and it looked like one of those trypophobia photos. I’m not personally disturbed by that phenomenon, but I know a lot of people are.

Are there any holiday decorations in your house? Yeah, we’ve had our Christmas tree up since the beginning of November. We also usually put a wreath up our door but idk why my mom didn’t this year.

When was the last time you had a terrible headache? Last night, because I had not eaten all day. 

Have you recently put lotion on your hands? No. I don’t like the feeling of lotion, so I don’t apply it on me a lot, if at all.

Are you hungry? Not so much, actually. I don’t feel too hungry today; I didn’t even finish my breakfast and that’s the only meal I’ve had so far today, and it’s already 4 PM.

Is it rainy where you're at right now? No, it’s quite fair. The sun’s not too strong anymore because of the time, but it’s still very much bright out.

Do you carry a purse? If so, describe what it looks like. I take a wallet with me. It’s pink, made of fake leather, has three main slots inside, and it also has some tiny bite marks on the outer edges from when Cooper was a lot younger.

Is your cell phone on vibrate? For certain notifications only, like texts and Viber.

Is your dishwasher full? We don’t use a dishwasher.

When is the last time you saw someone you like/love. Around a week and a half ago.

Do you like to wear gloves? No, I find them too itchy and I don’t need to wear them anyway.

Is there a body of water near where you live? There’s a creek that passes through my village near the clubhouse area, if that counts.

What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? No opinion. I never listened to them; though I am reminded of this one mutual I used to have on Tumblr/Twitter. She used to be a wrestling fan and was a part of our main circle, but she gradually shifted her main fandom to Avenged Sevenfold. By the time she cemented her new interest she then went on a huge unfollowing spree of wrestling fans on her feed and she apparently PM’d each person she intended to unfollow, including me. I remember her explaining that she was now in a different fandom and was gonna have to stop following me which I found...kinda extra to be honest lmao because nobody does that, but I appreciate the effort to approach each one of us, I guess.

Are you wearing anything pink right now? Nope, but my wallet is pink and so is my keyboard cover.

Do you like to swim in the ocean? I prefer beaches, but sure.

What is the creepiest bug you've ever saw? Cockroaches.

Do you currently have split ends? I don’t think so.

When is the last time you used the bathroom? Around five hours ago when I took a shower before heading out.

Do you chew on your lip? Almost never.

Are you afraid of needles? For the most part yeah, especially syringes. I’m not afraid of them when I do my embroidery, but that’s the only time I feel comfortable with a needle.

What is the last thing you lost? A pen, I think.

When is the last time you saw a bald person? Five hours ago, when I said bye to my dad.

What car were you last in? [continued from two days ago] My own. I was driving home from the mall.

Do you like Batman? I tried to get into Batman and the whole shebang of comic books when I was a teenager, but I just couldn’t.

Have you ever played tennis? Never have, actually. I’ve always wanted to try.

Can you see a star shape in the room you are in? Probably not in my bedroom.

What are you sitting on? A pillow I’ve placed on my work chair so that it’s more comfortable. My parents got me a basic chair initially meant just for my internship, so it’s not the comfiest of chairs haha. But now that I have a job, a more suitable work chair is probably one of things I’ll have to invest on.

What is the last warm thing you touched? My chest felt itchy just a few seconds ago, so I was able to feel my skin scratching it.

Do you use hand sanitizer? That’s kind of a necessity now, so...

Where do you want to go in life? [continued from...I don’t even remember anymore] I don’t know if I even plan to make it past 30 at this point. I can’t answer this right now.

Are you sweating? No, I’ve been in air-conditioned rooms all day and it feels so damn good.

When is the last time you had to scratch an itch? A few minutes ago when my neck itched.

Are you in any kind of club or group that is trying to save animals? No, but I very much support the cause.

Who is the last blonde you saw? At work today I saw someone who had her hair dyed blonde.

Where were you two hours after you got up, and what were you doing there? I needed to go to the office today because my team and I needed to pack some stuff to seed to certain media. It was the first time I got to visit the place and it was sooooooo homey and pretty :) I wish we can be allowed to work in the office soon; it would be best for my mental health at this point.

Do you wish for world peace? Um, of course.

Have you ever played fetch with a dog? We were able to teach Cooper how to pick up items that we throw but he’s still slowly learning that he actually has to give it back to us, haha.

What is the nearest object that is wood? The table I am typing on is made of wood.

Do you use Netflix? Yes, we have a family subscription.

Does your house have a fireplace? No, we don’t. And I can confidently tell you all other houses in this entire country, and probably the whole of Southeast Asia, don’t.

Do you wake yourself up in the morning, or does someone else? I wake myself up. On important days, I’ll put an alarm on.

What kind of hoodie did you last wear? It was a white hoodie with a UP seal on the left side.

Do you play games on your computer? No, my laptop isn’t equipped for games. I tried downloading Sims 4 when they made it free for a few weeks back in 2018, but my laptop’s fan started whirring like crazy and the battery got drained super fast. The entire period of me booting it up and then deleting it took like, a literal 15 minutes.

What is the last video game that you played? Mario Kart 8 on the Switch. I want to get myself Switch games as gifts, but I’m just so stingy towards myself hahaha.

Have you ever pet a stingray? I’m 50% would like to at least once and 50% I know of what it did to Steve Irwin, and I’m not messing with them.

If you were on vacation, would you ever go to Ireland? It’s not a big item on my bucket list, honestly. I’d love to go to Ireland, but it would probably be a part of a bigger itinerary, like if I decided to take a trip to that part of Europe.

Are you logged into Myspace right now? I haven’t been on there for more than a decade.

Did you have anything bad happen to you today? Yeah, but they’re stuff that happened at work that are a little hard to explain. 

Have you ever been to New York? Nope. I’d love to take a trip there.

Do you use the term "lol" if you don't have anything to say? Not really. I use it in the end of my messages more so that I don’t sound mean.

Should you be sleeping right now instead of taking this survey? Hell no. It’s a Friday night so the last thing I want to be doing is sleeping.

Can you truly say you hate anyone? I don’t think so. I greatly dislike my brother, but I guess I don’t hate him. I find it too strong a word.

Have you ever disected a baby pig in a class at school? Not a piglet, no. We dissected an earthworm, a fish, and eventually a frog.

What brand of dish liquid do you use? A local brand you wouldn’t recognize.

When is the last time you ate a Hershey Kiss? It’s probably been more than a year. It’s not my favorite candy.

Do you ever feel unappreciated? Yes.

Do you currently have any blemishes on your face? No. My pimple finally went away, hallelujah.

Who is the last baby you held? My cousin who is now 13 years old. I’m too anxious to hold babies; I always feel like I’d drop them so I find myself declining even when I have the chance to hold one.

Are you a lover? I guess.

Do you use smileys often in text convos? Yes. Not a lot of people like them but it’s better to sound friendly and approachable than stoic.

Do you have the Google toolbar on your computer? Like...Chrome? I have the program, yeah. It’s my default browser as well.

Do you like Sunkist? I’ve never had it.

Would you ever consider being a cannibal? I mean...I guess only if I was in a life-and-death situation, like if a plane I was in crashed on an island and I was starting to get hungry. I certainly don’t fantasize about cannibalism on any regular day.

Did you forget something important in the past week? I made a few mistakes at work due to me forgetting things, yeah.

Do you like learning new things? Sure.

What color is your toothpaste? White.

Are the floors in your house creaky? Nopes. I don’t think our doors are creaky-level just yet as well.

Do you fear death? I hate the uncertainty of what happens while it’s taking place, and what happens after. But I’ve been wishing for it for a while as well. There’s a difference.

Is your mouth dry? Not right now, no.

Do yoou have any scars from an animal? Yeah I’ve got a few marks and scratches from Cooper. I never run out of them, really.

Did you have fun with this survey? It was okay.

Was it random enough? Sure.

[emergenciesstory]

Paparazzi (2/2)

Paparazzi Part 1

Summary: Burned bridges don’t do well to continue to work with, but sometimes what looks burned is really a fairy genius and an awkward blushing soldier.

Your phone rang, pulling you from your spot in bed.

“Y/n’s phone.” You said, staring at the wall.

“It’s been two weeks,” Your best friend's voice rang out. “Where are your new submissions?” 

“I don’t have any. I’m done.” You said simply. 

“Done? What’s wrong?”” She asked, concern in her voice.

“I just don’t want to sell my photos anymore. I'm strictly doing advertising, private events I’m invited to, no more sleuthing.” You said simply. 

“Are you sure? You were always the best.” She sighed. You could hear her nails on the keyboard.

“I am, for now.” You smiled, thinking about your encounter the week before. 

“New headline: Paper says goodbye to a beloved Photographer.” 

“You make it sound like I’m dead!” You laughed, your phone beeping from a message. You pulled the phone from your ear, seeing an unknown number. “I have to go, Love.”

“Okay, okay. But you are getting a tribute! Byeee!” She laughed, hanging up with a click. 

You opened the message, sitting up in bed. 

Unknown Number: Is this Y/n?

Y/n: It is, can I help you?

Unknown: I hope so. I have an event tomorrow night and my photographer backed out on me. I was given your number from Goolricks? They said you took their advertisement photos. So, can you help me?

You smiled, accepting the event and receiving the details. It was upstate, you were asked to dress in black, but comfortable, and it was a sizable payment for a few hours of work. You marked your calendar, reserved a town car, and packed your things.

_____

“Here we are, Avengers Complex.” Your driver said simply, pulling up to the door.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You muttered, thanking the driver and gathering your camera bag. You walked up to the building, lots of people buzzing around setting up tables and food. 

“You must be the photographer.” You spun to the sound of the voice with a nod.

“Y/n, yes.” You smiled.

“Perfect timing, I’m Pepper.” She smiled, gesturing for you to follow her. “ We have a spot for you to put your things you don’t wish to carry. You are, of course, able to partake in any of the food or beverages circling around. I’m sure my assistant gave you the details of what we are looking for?”

“Yes, the venue, the guests, everything and anything, no one or thing in particular.” You smiled, following her as she moved through the venue.

“Exactly. There are three floors we will be moving through, the Courtyard, second floor balcony, and rooftop.” A young girl slipped into step with the two of you, pulling a page off her clipboard. Pepper passed it to you, and you realized it was an itinerary with a map of the main complex on the back. 

“There is roughly two hours before our guests arrive, please, familiarize yourself with the complex, and venue space.” She passed you a press badge. “This will get you through the service entrances to move quicker around.” 

“Thank you.” You said, getting into the zone of the gig. 

“If you need anything, grab someone with an earpiece. They’ll be able to ask.” Pepper stopped at a door, looking at you with a smile. “Any questions?”

“No, I’ll track you down if I think of something.” You smiled.

“Perfect. Thank you so much for being here. You really are saving the day.” Pepper squeezed your shoulder with sincerity. “I have some vendors to attend to. Through that door should be a handful of memory cards compatible with your camera. We’d prefer all pictures be taken on them, and when one fills just plug it in and it will be double saved to Friday. We can discuss after the event the copyrights and such?”

Pepper smiled as you nodded, her phone ringing just as she finished her sentence. She answered, picking it up quickly and moving off, writing something on her assistants clipboard. You sighed, stepping into the small office to see what the setup was like. A simple charging station with batteries and memory ports was set up to a monitor. You clicked one into your camera, slipping another into the storage pouch on your belt. Tucking the itinerary into your pocket, you moved out to start taking photos.

The Complex was beautiful, the setting sun providing amazing lighting for the decor before the soft lights came on, guests arriving. You wove in and out, smiling and chatting with individuals who reached out, steadily clicking pictures as you went. You slipped into a service hall, heading back down to the office to swap out memory cards. You clicked through some photos, bumping softly into someone.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, head shooting up.

“We should stop meeting like this.” Steve smiled, removing his hands from your elbows, effectively holding you up.

“Captain.” You smiled, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”

“No harm done.” He said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Press pass, huh?”

“Photographer.” You shrugged, holding up your camera. “Pepper's assistant contacted me last night. Said your normal photographer got sick or something.” 

“Normal Photographer?” Steve cocked his head, raising an eyebrow as he leaned on the wall. “We don’t have a  normal photographer for events here. Just whatever press shows up.” 

“Oh.” You said softly. “Well, I guess I misunderstood the situation.” 

“Well, shouldn’t you be out there?” Steve asked, gesturing down the hall where the music was picking up. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Your face turned red as the words slipped out, a bemused smirk meeting you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I needed a new memory card.” 

“I’ll walk with you.” Steve said, gesturing the way you were heading. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, I want to.” He smiled again, beginning to walk back the way he came. 

“Oh.” You said softly, moving to walk beside him. The two of you walked quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the camera. 

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around Brooklyn anymore.” Steve said, holding the door to the office for you.

“You were looking for me?” You asked, setting the camera down on the table.

“Yeah.” A blush crept up his neck. “I was hoping to apologize.” 

You froze, shaking your head. “There's nothing you need to apologize for.”

“There is. I was a real jerk last time we met. I’m sorry.” He said, moving closer to you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, eye to eye with him. “I actually only do events now.” 

“Hope it was nothing I said.” Steve smiled, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

“No, I just realized it was time to move on.” You smiled with a soft shrug. You looked at each other, impossibly close in the small office. Suddenly, the door opened, lighting up the two of you. Your head snapped in the direction of the door, Steve backing up a step.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Tony said with a smile, looking between you and Steve. 

“Mr. Stark! I was just-”

“Not you, good looking.” Tony smiled at you, smirking at Steve. 

“We don’t have a regular photographer.” Steve said pointedly.

“We don't? Hmm, guess someone else was sick.” He shrugged, leaning in the doorframe. “Has he apologized to you yet?” Tony looked back at you.

“Yes, he did.” You smiled, turning and grabbing a new memory card and clicking it into your camera. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” 

“You know, it was all a ruse, right? Good natured of course.” Tony smiled, following you out. “Rogers spent days trying to find you, and I remembered what you said about that photo, that you did events. Bippity-boppity, here you are.” 

“Oh.” you smiled softly, looking back at Steve, his face red. “I’ll tell you a secret?” Tony leaned in like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“All he had to do was call.” You said in a half whisper, loud enough you knew he would hear. “I’ve got to run, these pictures won't take themselves.” 

With a smile, you walked away from the two men, slipping amongst the people. 

Wow, had things taken a turn.

[delightfully-difficult-pirate]

Freaky Friday the 14th (CSRR) (2/3)

AN: I intended to post the finale of this fic today, but I haven’t had the time to finish editing it all.  So instead of not posting, I’m posting what I have as part 2 and next week I’ll get the rest of it posted as part 3.  Sorry!  Another thanks to @mariakov81​ for her wonderful art that served as inspiration and has tested my writing abilities.  And of course to @csrolereversal​ for organizing this event.

Rating: PG-13

Part 1 (art)

AO3: Ch1 Ch2

                                                          ~*~

*BEEP*BEEP*BEEP*

Emma hated Killian’s alarm clock.  It was an actual, physical alarm clock, and an ancient one at that.  Well, ancient may be too strong of a word, but it was old.  So old that she couldn’t plug her phone into it so that it played something other than the annoying buzzer as the alarm.

Buried beneath the covers, Emma reached out one arm and clumsily slapped the alarm clock until the sound ceased.  She slowly lifted her arm and squinted at the clock.

7:15am.  

So absorbed as she was trying to figure out why Killian had set the alarm for so early on a weekend, it took her a couple of moments until she realized that the arm holding the blankets up was not her own.

Except it was.

It was the arm that moved when she instinctively jerked it back in shock.  

Freaked out, Emma tried to unbury herself from the bedcovers, but only tangled herself further.  She continued to fight against them until she tumbled off the bed and onto the floor.  Finally, she fought free, but when she tried to stand, she found it difficult.  Her body felt disjoined and heavy and her head was pounding.  Confused, she looked down at herself.

Emma was greeted with the sight of a bare, hairy chest that she was intimately acquainted with.  Killian’s chest.  She pulled on the waistband of the grey lounge pants.  Definitely Killian’s penis.

“What the fuck?”

Killian’s sleep rough voice came from her… his… mouth.

How was this possible?

This had to be some freaky, weird dream.

People couldn’t just… switch bodies.

So what happened?

~*~

Killian woke slowly, confused.  He could have sworn that he’d remembered to set his alarm the night before, but the light filtering through the closed blinds told him it was later than he normally woke up.  His confusion deepened as he realized that he was in Emma’s apartment.  He’d gone home last night, after the disastrous dinner. How had he ended up at Emma’s apartment, in Emma’s bed?

And why was everything blurry?

Killian roughly rubbed a hand across his face to help wake himself up and was shocked to not feel his signature scruff against his palm.  Had he decided to shave last night, for some odd reason?  He’d had a few more drinks after getting home and had defiantly been drunk by the time he’d gone to bed, but surely it hadn’t been enough for him to not remember shaving? And apparently make his way to his girlfriend’s apartment?  It had been a long time since he’d been blackout drunk, but that would also explain why he still couldn’t see properly.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured in a voice not his own.

That woke Killian up and he shot straight up.  He quickly scrambled out of bed and promptly fell flat onto the floor, his limbs not obeying.  He heaved himself back up and stumbled his way toward the bathroom.  

He was… Emma.  

And he looked exhausted.

The underside of his… her… eyes were puffy, as if he’d… she’d… been crying.

The realization that Emma must have cried sometime after returning home from dinner was like a knife in his heart.  That was his fault.  Him and his stupid, ill-timed proposition.

Killian dropped his head forward.  

“What have I done?”

Before he could spiral too far down that depressing line of thought, he heard Emma’s phone start to ring.  He clumsily left the bathroom and spotted Emma’s cellphone on the bedside table, which showed a picture of himself relaxing on Emma’s bed and his name on the screen.

If he was in Emma’s body… she must be in his!

Killian scrambled across the bed and swiped across the screen to answer the call.

“Emma?  Are you alright?” He inquired frantically.

The line was silent for a moment before he heard his own voice answer in reply.  

“Killian, are you… me?”

He answered in the affirmative before repeating his question about how she was.

“I’m confused as fuck.  What is going on?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Emma.  But we are going to figure it out,” he told her, “I promise you, we will get this sorted.”

Emma’s voice quaked when she asked, “How?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he answered honestly.  “Stay put.  I’m going to head over there and we can figure this out, together.”

He could hear Emma breathing heavily on the other end of the call.  Eventually, she replied, “Okay.  That sounds good.  I’ll get the coffee started.  I feel like we’re going to need lot of it.”

                                                        ~*~

Four hours later, Emma and Killian were in his living room doing research on how they could have swapped bodies.  Killian was on the floor, surrounded by piles of books on mythology and legends. Most were from his own shelves, history nerd that he was, but some he had grabbed from the library on his way over.

It was weird, seeing herself from the outside, especially looking so academic. He was wearing her glasses, unwilling to risk any damage to her eyes by trying to put contact lenses in he’d said. They kept slipping down his nose due to a broken nose pad, which reminded her that she needed to get a new pair.

While Killian was in his element with the books, she was using her rusty internet sleuthing skills and was hunting down information online using keywords and search terms Killian suggested.  Something that was frustratingly difficult with only one hand.  Did they not make laptops or keyboards that were easier for one-handed individuals to use?

When another term brought her to a page about yet another mythological trickster, she asked, “Does every mythology have some sort of trickster god?”

Killian looked up from the book he was skimming, face thoughtful.  “I believe so.  Some even have multiple, in a way, with many entities representing different mischievous attributes.  Pan would probably be the trickster of Greek mythology, but there is also Eris, the Goddess of discord.  And Dionysis could be considered a bit of a trickster, being the deity of madness.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at Killian’s thorough answer.  Even though mythology wasn’t his area of study, he was a historian and always tried to give the most complete answer possible.  

After answering, Killian looked contemplative.  “Do you think we have been cursed by some sort of trickster?” He asked slowly.

Emma’s eyebrows shot up.  “Do you?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, clearly embarrassed, but all Emma could concentrate on was how surreal it was to see her own body display Killian’s tick.  

“We are obviously looking at some type of supernatural cause, as impossible as that seems, so it’s as good as an answer as any,” he eventually admitted.

Just as Emma was about to answer, her phone buzzed.  It was her calendar app reminding her that she and Killian were supposed to meet Mary-Margaret and David for dinner and drinks that evening. She showed the notification to Killian, who blinked owlishly at it.

“We have to reschedule,” he simply stated.

Emma was shaking her head before he even finished. “Both of us can’t cancel.

They’ll know something is up and we’ll never hear the end of it until we tell them.”

“We could claim one of us isn’t feeling well,” he suggested hopefully.

“And Mary-Margaret will be over with soup within the hour,” she countered. After a moment, she continued, “Research is more you’re area, so I’ll go and make-up something to explain your absence.”

“Such as?”

She shrugged, her eyes on the website in front of her.  “Maybe that we fought last night and you… well, me, technically… are not currently in the mood to see me, or rather you.  The best lies are those with some basis in the truth, after all.”

The room was silent in the wake of her suggestion.  Emma looked up from her computer to find Killian staring at her.

“Is that how this day would have gone, if we weren’t in this… unusual situation?” He asked, his voice soft.

Uncomfortable being under her own gaze, Emma shifted on the couch.  “Possibly,” she admitted.  “I probably would have called Mary-Margaret at some point.  Asked for her advice on the situation.”

Killian continued to study her.  

“And you?” She eventually asked.  “I already know that you came home and drank half the bottle of rum David gave you for Christmas, so would you have just spent the day nursing the hangover?”

The hangover that she was still coping with, even after a substantial amount of water and numerous cups of coffee.

“Ah… yes.  Sorry about that,” he apologized.  “I was planning to invite you to Granny’s for breakfast, actually.”

“Really?”

Killian nodded solemnly. “I guess it would have been a fool’s hope that you would have been willing to meet after last night.”

Emma’s heart clenched painfully.

“Killian, I…” she started but her phone rang just as she did.

She was about to answer it before she remembered that she currently wasn’t herself and neither of them were in the habit of answering the other’s phones.  She passed it to Killian, who grabbed it as if it were a snake about to bite him.

“Just… act like me?” She suggested hopefully.

Killian rolled his eyes before answering the call and putting it on speaker phone.

“Emma!” Mary-Margaret’s excited voice filled the room.  “How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine, M. You?”

“I’m having a lovely day.  Are you and Killian still meeting David and me tonight?”

“That was the plan.”  Killian did a rather good job imitating her more succinct pattern of speech, Emma noted.  Much better than she was at his.

“Excellent.  Would 5:30pm work for the two of you?”

Killian looked at her for guidance.  Emma signaled for him to answer, hoping he could come up with some reasonable explanation for his… her… absence.

“Actually, I’m feeling a bit tired today. I was thinking…” He started before being interrupted by their friend.

“Are you sick? Do you need me to bring you anything? I have some chicken noodle soup I made on Saturday.” Mary-Margaret was true to form, immediately offering all the comforts she could provide to a sick friend.  

Killian looked startled and he struggled to interrupt Mary-Margaret.  “No, I’m not sick,” he insisted. “I just didn’t sleep well, that is all.”

“Are you sure? It will only take thirty minutes or so for me to warm up some of the soup and bring it over,” Mary-Margaret insisted.

Killian stumbled over his words as he replied, “No, I really am fine, truly. 5:30pm works great.  We’ll meet you at Granny’s.”

“Ok, great! See you both then!”  After that, the call disconnected but Killian continued to stare at the phone.  

“That didn’t go like I had hoped,” he eventually said.

Emma tried to remember if Killian had ever had the full force of Mary-Margaret’s protective nature turned on him before.  She didn’t think so.

“Don’t worry about it.  If we can’t find a solution to our… problem before dinner, we can just get them drunk enough that they won’t notice if anything is different about us.”

Killian looked dubious at her suggestion, but he couldn’t offer any other alternative plan.  Now with a time limit, they both dove back into their research.

                                                         ~*~

See you next week!

[onewfantaesy]

Cubicle au is so stinkin cute!!!!!! I don't even have anything to say other than that! Just gimme all of it!

Let’s start this morning with more cubicle au then!

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee. If Taemin didn’t get coffee in the next twelve seconds he was going to pass out. His head was swirling so bad - screw Jinki and his plans and his no sleep all weekend - weren’t Monday’s bad enough?

Taemin forgot to have his morning coffee. He woke up late. Well, actually, he had fallen asleep just eighteen minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off and then didn’t get out of bed until twelve minutes before he had to leave.

Taemin is going to pass out, he’s sure of it.

“Morning Taemin,” Key calls before Taemin’s keys even hit his desk.

“Hi Key,” he says, his voice wavering.

“I’m about to do a Starbucks run, wanna tag along?” Key asks.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“God please yes please.”

“Whattaya want? I’m ordering right now.”

“Uh,” Taemin’s mind goes blank. “Coffee?”

Key snorts.

“How often do you get Starbucks?”

“Never.”

“I’ll get you what I get,” Key says. “You’ll like it.”

“It has lots of caffeine?”

“So much caffeine.”

“Oh,” Taemin stutters, digging in his backpack for his wallet. “I don’t have any cash - can I -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Key says. “My treat.”

“I’ll pay next time,” Taemin says.

“Cool,” Key says. “Let’s go.”

Taemin hears keys jingling and Key’s chair creaking, and Taemin hadn’t even logged into his computer yet.

Boa was coming with them. There were eight coffees waiting for them to pick up.

“Who in the heck-” Taemin starts, but Key just snorts.

“Monday morning meeting,” Key explains. “It was my turn to pick up coffee.”

Taemin scoffs.

“You guys get Starbucks?” he asks. “Baekhyun only ever gets us the free shit from the break room.”

“That’s because Baekhyun is a boring team lead,” Boa says, smirking. “And because our team is better.”

Taemin laughs, but he’s a little uncomfortable. He does also manage to balance one tray of coffees in one hand and open the car door for Boa with the other.

“Aww, you’re sweet,” she says, getting into the front seat.

“Um,” Taemin stutters, “thank you.”

Boa only continues cackling and sharing a look with Key while Taemin gets into the backseat.

The coffee Key got for him is an iced venti sweet thing. “The ratio of size to flavor shots is very important,” Key had said. Taemin writes down a note in his phone of what’s on the label. It’s the best damn coffee he’s ever had.

Taemin spends most of the morning with his lips wrapped around the straw and staring at his computer. The caffeine helped, but he’s still tired.

Once Key’s team meeting is over, he hears Key and Boa talking in hushed voices.

“I want to steal him,” Boa whispered.

“We can’t steal him,” Key whispers back.

“Yunho agrees!”

“They won’t let us steal him.”

“We can try.”

“Don’t you have something to do besides pester me?”

“Fine,” Boa huffs. “But this isn’t over.”

Taemin hears her leave Key’s row and go down a couple more towards her own cubicle. Taemin smirks.

“Who are you trying to steal?” He asks. He loves office gossip, even if he won’t admit it.

“No one,” Key laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Did you like the coffee?”

“It’s the best dang drink I’ve ever had.”

“Good.”

That’s when Minho comes in to Taemin’s cubicle to talk about a document they just got emailed about. Key goes back to typing at his keyboard. Taemin is sure he’s messaging Boa - he never types and pauses and types and pauses like that when he’s actually working. Plus, he keeps sighing. Taemin thinks it’s funny.

Taemin is still exhausted, despite the coffee. He doesn’t even have the energy to make fun of some of the corporate emails with Minho.

“Long weekend, Taemin?”

Taemin blinks slowly, then turns his eyes toward the wall he shared with Key.

“Yeah, kinda,” Taemin mumbles. “My brother was visiting.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Boa’s voice calls. It makes Taemin jump. He hadn’t heard her come back over. “Do you want to come get lunch with us today?”

“Do you guys just always go out to eat?”

“Not always,” Boa says. “Unless you like that.”

Taemin is confused. Or maybe he’s still just tired and can’t follow.

“We’re gonna go to Olive Garden.”

“Ah,” Taemin perks up. “True American food.”

It makes Boa and Key both choke a laugh.

“Shut up,” Key calls. “You coming or not?”

“Um,” Taemin stutters. “Let me ask Minho if I can.”

“He’s not your boss.”

“I can hear you guys!” Minho scoffs from the cubicle behind Taemin’s. “I’m his direct superior!”

“No you’re not,” Baekhyun says from the window cubicle behind Minho. “Taemin, if you want to go to lunch, it’s fine.”

“Thank you!”

“Taemin, we still have-” Minho starts.

“It’s not due until Friday,” Baekhyun cuts in, knowing exactly what Minho and Taemin are working together on. “And aren’t you guys already ahead of schedule? He can take an hour and a half for lunch if he wants.”

Flexible schedules really are the best thing that ever happened to Taemin. He’ll have to stay later than he usually does - because going out to lunch always takes longer than planned - but it’s fine. He can make up the time tomorrow if he really wants to.

“I can’t wait to eat seven breadsticks,” Taemin says, mostly to himself. It’s still only eleven o’ clock, it’s no doubt another hour before they leave for lunch.

“Seven breadsticks?” Key laughs.

“They’re free,” Taemin says. “I’m going to eat as many as possible. Maybe even eight.”

They bicker about the amount of breadsticks one can consume in a single sitting for another seven minutes. Until Minho comes into Taemin’s cubicle and insists they need to look at part of their current assignment. Taemin just thinks he’s jealous that he won’t be getting to eat breadsticks today.

“So what’s with you and Minho?” Taemin asks while he sits in the back of Key’s car. Boa is in the front seat again, and Yunho is sitting in the back with Taemin.

Boa and Yunho laugh, and Key just scoffs.

“We literally joined on the exact same day,” Key starts. “He just annoys me. It’s nothing specific.”

“They used to bicker like an old married couple,” Yunho says.

“Until they both went to different teams,” Boa adds.

“And now their cubicles are next to each other again and it’s hilarious,” Yunho laughs.

Taemin is smiling, but he’s back to being a little uncomfortable. He’s getting used to the members of Key’s team little by little, but it still takes him a while to warm up to people. He can’t help it.

“He’s nice to me,” Taemin says with a shrug.

“He’s an ass to you,” Key scoffs. “You’re just too nice to notice.”

“How’s he an ass?”

“He pushes so much of his own work off on you,” Key says, and Taemin can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “He used to do it to me too. It’s not on purpose I don’t think - he probably doesn’t realize it - but it’s annoying. I’m annoyed for you.”

“Oh,” is all Taemin says. He hadn’t noticed. But Minho does give him a lot of extra work that Baekhyun doesn’t.

“He’s also not your boss - or anyone’s boss - but he likes to act like it,” Key scoffs. “He’s nice, I won’t deny that. He’s a cool guy. But he’s just annoying to work with is all.”

“So do you like your position?” Boa asks.

“Um,” Taemin stutters. “It’s alright. I can’t complain.”

“So what do you know about contracts?” Yunho asks.

“Uh - it’s what you guys do?”

“Are interested in it?”

“I guess? Sure.”

“Cool.”

They immediately start talking about something else, then park in front of Olive Garden and go inside to meet the rest of the team for lunch. Taemin is so confused. But he’s looking forward to his breadsticks and soup so he quickly forgets it.

Lunch lasts an hour and fifteen minutes. By the time they get back, Taemin has been gone for an hour and thirty three minutes.

While they were in the car on the way back, Taemin texts his brother.

“I’m making more work friends!”

“That’s great!” Jinki texts back. “You just needed to open up a little bit. See? You need to listen to your big brother. I’m very wise.”

“Shut up.”

Taemin stays an extra hour at work that night, then decides to go in an extra half hour early tomorrow to make up the time. Key sounds surprised when Taemin comes in at seven thirty on Tuesday instead of eight. Taemin smirks. He likes to keep people on their toes sometimes.

[strongsassysexysloane]

Take me for a Ride, Jack..2

So I’ve got more assignments than I thought to do before I go to LA for Paleyfest NCIS so chapters may not come out a regularly as I originally planned.. However... This is the motorbike I have in mind..

. . . . 

To say the next half hour in Jack's office was uncomfortable would be an understatement. At least you think it was half an hour, when you turn to leave and check the clock it was only ten minutes. You sigh to yourself, Jack didn't mention anything, just down to business, asking the questions she needed and you answered. No quips, sassed remarks or winks you'd come to love. Wait, no, like. You'd come to like.

You guessed it was because time was running out on this one, any proof probably getting buried deeper and Ellie and Nick couldn't survive the married life much longer. At least that's the text you got this morning from Ellie wishing she could have one minute away from Nick. You laughed because they usually spent most weekends off together and go to the same bars most Friday nights but living together 24/7 was a bit too much.

You went and saw Kasie to see if she had any updates but you knew she didn't. With hardly any forensics to go off she was having a hard time helping with the case but you chatted for a bit, discussing Ellie and Nick's situation before your phone alerted you that a search that you were running came back so it was back up to the bullpen.

It took until the end of the day however to finally nail the guy. Ellie and Nick returned with the bad guy in cuffs. He'd had an affair with the wife, except she didn't plan on leaving her husband and this guy thought that justified murder.

"No offence Nick but this weekend. No goat Yoga, please." Ellie practically fell into her chair.

"Oh come on, it was only a few days." Nick blew her off.

"I don't care, you do more push ups than the whole office, listen to the worst music and you chew REALLY loud." The last comment made everyone laugh and Nick pouted in his seat.

"You know you're not much-" He stopped, receiving a glare from Ellie and one from Gibbs. "You're great Bishop."

"Finish your reports and hit the rack." Gibbs ordered, tapping something on his keyboard then walking out.

Thankfully after that long case you didn't get a call in for another two days. An actual two day weekend. It was a bloody miracle. You spent most of it catching up on house work, a nice breakfast with your sister and more apartment hunting.

When the call came early morning after two days rest you welcomed the call although sleeping in until 0630 would've been a nicer way to start, oh yeah and not a dead petty officer. You all caught up about what happened over your two days off while investigating the crime scene. No one had an eventful weekend, just some well needed rest done by all well except Gibbs who didn't chime in.

You, Ellie and Nick drove back to HQ while Gibbs and McGee followed a lead given to them by a neighbour at the crime scene. While walking to the entrance of the building you turned when you heard a roar, you missed that sound. It was the pur of a motorbike pulling into the carpark a few metres away. You stopped to check out the bike and the sleek woman riding her. You'd spoken in length to Nick a few times about his bike, he even offered to take you for a ride but you declined saying if you couldn't ride her, you wouldn't ride at all. He scoffed at that but appreciated the love of bikes.

Ellie and Nick stopped shortly after you but you didn't see Ellie's smirk at your expression and interest in the person- bike because Ellie knew exactly who was riding it and you had your suspicions as well. You watched as the woman stretched and slid off the bike. It was only when she started lifting her helmet, facing you, that you saw the tips of blonde hair and swallowed hard, you guessed right. She had on almost knee high black boots that covered up her skin tight dark denim jeans and a zipped up black leather jacket. You scratched the back of your neck nervously, obviously being caught, and walked a bit closer.

"We'll catch you inside Y/N." Ellie shouted at you which only made you blush harder and you waved off her, seeing Nick not so happily being dragged off.

"Like what you see?" Jack rested the helmet on her hip, under her arm and watched you approach.

"She's a bute." You nodded to the bike, the fire still burning on your cheeks and tips of your ears. "She yours?" Possibly a bit too much surprise in your voice as Jack slightly frowned.

"Sure is, I got her as a late Christmas present to myself a few months ago. Good price, she needed a few things fixed, still does but she's worth it." Jack patted the side of her bike and walked around to the back, undoing her bag strapped down.

You smile at the way she obviously calls her bike a female. "Sleek, sexy, purrs like a goddess." You want to face palm yourself after letting your thoughts slip from your lips. Jack's back is thankfully turned towards you so she cant see you drop your head back and run your hand through your hair because you know she's thinking of a sassy innuendo to tease you with.

"Who told you about me?" She grins mischievously, sexy as hell, turning around, slipping her bag on her shoulder.

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face along with the still evident blush and you just shake you head. "How was your days off?" Changing the subject was a safe bet and one Jack thankfully went along with.

She shrugged her shoulders as you walk side by side into work. "Only got yesterday off because Dawson's team needed help the day before but I'll probably get this weekend off unless your case needs assistance. But I spent most of yesterday under her, covered in grease but it was worth it. As you said she purrs like a goddess now, just like me." You bump her shoulder for the sassy remark.

"I'm never going to live this down am I?" Truthfully, you hoped she never did.

"Not in the foreseeable future, no." She bumps your shoulder and you just discuss the case as you ride the elevator up to the bullpen.

"Let me know if you need any profiling done or need to bounce some ideas around." Jack smiled, winked and kept walking up to her office as you turned into the bullpen.

"Did she take you for a spin?" Nick smirked from resting his hip on Ellie's desk.

You shake your head with a smile, thankfully the blush had vanished once you exited the elevator. "No, like I told you. I drive, I'm not a passenger." You drop your bag behind your desk and walk back over to Ellie's.

"We thought you might change your mind, considering..." Nick trailed off, nudging his chin upstairs, obviously in the direction of Jack's office.

"We?" You look over to Ellie with a raised eyebrow.

"Think the whole office knows you two have a thing. The flirting is glaringly obvious." Ellie leans back in her chair, fiddling with a pen in her fingers.

You try your best to hide a smile but it fails. "We do not have a thing."

Thankfully the subject is dropped as Bishop gets a lead. Torres walks back to his desk, actually doing some work before Gibbs and McGee gets back. You go down to Kasie to see if she has anything but the evidence was just being categorised and you help her sort through a few things.

It isn't long before Ellie and Nick follow a lead on a suspect that the victim had a bar fight with a few nights ago leaving you alone in the office as McGee and Gibbs haven't come back yet.

"Need any bouncing?" She purrs as she pops up beside your desk, sipping her coffee with her spare hand on her hip.

"Nope, just looking over everyone's notes from the crime scene, writing up my report." Jack nods, walking around to stand off to your left, you can feel her hand that was on her hip move to rest on the back of your chair as she looks over your shoulder. You feel her thumb brush against your back, thinking it's by mistake but then she repeats the movement. You swallow hard and try your best to keep typing however you can't think straight and turn your head slightly, her hair tickles your cheek. You love it when she wears it down.

"I'm bored." She shrugs, straightening back up with a smirk.

"Surely there's some report or profile you need to do." You try your best to not lean back into her touch which is still happening against your back.

"Oh I have plenty but kitty cat needed a distraction." She takes a sip from her cup, you think you see a slight flush to her cheeks.

You snap your head up to see her smug smile. "Kitty cat?"

"Because I purr.." She says it like its the most obvious thing. You just shake your head and let a laugh slip from your lips, she's relentless.  

"Am I doing a good job?" You lean back into her touch as emphasis. Yes, definitely a flush to her cheeks, you get a kick out of it and love how the tables can turn.

Jack swallows a bit slower than normal her smugness disappearing at your bluntness. You smirk at her, the thumb movement faltering for a second. So she can dish out the flirting but when its reciprocated she gets flustered. Noted.

"I'm glad." You didn't need her reply and she huffs out a quiet laugh.

You both hear the ding of the elevator and you hold back a groan as she slips her hand off your chair. Gibbs and McGee exit the elevator with the suspect they went to question in handcuffs. McGee waltzes him down to interrogation while Gibbs walks in and slips his coat off, resting it on the back of his office chair.

"Where's Bishop and Torres?" He doesn't look up from placing his gun and badge in his drawer.

"Following a lead." You answer, going back to your report.

"No more leads?" He walks over to stand in front of your desk, looking from Jack down to your concentrated face directed at your computer screen.

"Not on my end." You look up and swear there's a slight smirk on his lips. He raises an eyebrow at Jack waiting for her to answer.

"Got nothing for you Gibbs." She sips her coffee.

"You helping Y/N with her report?" He counters. There's definitely some levity to his tone, anyone else and it would've been clipped but not to Jack. The thought made your stomach twist. You scoff and that draws the attention back to you which is the last thing you wanted. "If you got nothing better to do, McGee and I are about to question our suspect." He looks from you to Jack and turns and walks to interrogation.

"Guess I'll see you later." Jack follows Gibbs and you instantly miss her presence, miffed that Gibbs drew her away. You shake away that thought and get back to your work.

. . . . 

Again, sorry if the case stuff is blah but im trying to work on my story telling and not just jump them into bed LOL. Let me know what you think :)