#no joke this sounds like something straight out of wattpad

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

can we talk about how cringy this scene was?

yeah i'm sorry, i'm sure this was written as the Angsty Villain Monologue™, but it just comes off as an edgy teenager trying to be intimidating.

"some people have a bad day, i've had a bad life" you're not special, catra. you've had a bad life and you decide to make that everyone else's problem. other people has had a bad life because of you.

[fkinavocado]

in which your husband and Harry's wife dragged you both into a situation you didn't want to be in, but as it turns out, everything happens for a reason

Loved, heard, seen- Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 3.6k)

Harry sighed heavily while closing the door to the hotel room behind him. He leaned against it as he watched the young woman pace the room and look around, wondering how he was going to let her down easily.

This was a mistake. He never should have agreed to this.

“I can’t do this.” She suddenly turned to face him after staring at the bed for a long while as if lost in her own thoughts. 

Harry straightened up as a huge wave of relief washed over him and made to reply but she went on, agitated. “I’m sorry. I know this must be disappointing, but I just can’t go through with it. It’s got nothing to do with you, please don’t feel bad–”

Harry approached her and let out a light chuckle, “Please, no need to explain yourself. I feel exactly the same. I was struggling to find a way to break it to you myself.”

“Wait- really? You’re not just saying that?”

He placed his hand over his heart. “Swear to god. And don’t worry, it’s got nothing to do with you either… I just… Well, as corny as it sounds, I realized what a huge mistake this was. Agreeing to this. I love my wife. We don’t need this. I’m sure she must’ve freaked out by now, too.”

“Oh, thank god.” The woman clutched the neckline of her shirt and sighed in relief smilingly, the both of them chuckling at the realization they were on the same page about this. “I’m going to call him. I know it’s against the rules but like you said, I’m sure he’s backing out too by now.”

Harry was already dialling his wife’s number but his serene expression faded as soon as it went straight to voicemail. “Hm. She must’ve not turned her phone back on yet. She’ll call me back.”

“Same here.” Harry didn’t miss the slight tremble in her hands.

“Hey. It’s alright…”

But she kept trying her husband’s number again and again and soon she was panicking, pacing the room nervously. 

Harry tried his wife’s number again, too. Voicemail. He was trying to keep himself in check, and decided to distract himself by reassuring the young woman. “Hey. Let’s give it a moment. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Come, let’s just sit for a bit, we’re on edge.”

She nodded frantically and sat on the edge of the bed next to the man. She placed the phone in her lap and her forehead in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees and tried to breathe in deeply to calm herself. “Why did I ever agree to this? What if he’s actually going through with it?”

Harry placed his own phone next to him on the bed after he double checked it wasn’t on silent. He rubbed his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t want to. She did. It was her idea.”

“Same here. He brought it up…”

“The whole way here I kept expecting her to freak out and tell me to turn the car around and go back home. That this was a mistake. That we don’t need this. But she never did. If anything, she was giddy. Felt sick the whole time. I tried to hide it from her and not be a spoilt sport because I had agreed to it, after all… I don’t think I spoke a word the whole ride here. She didn’t even notice.”

“I kept expecting him to burst into laughter and tell me he couldn’t believe I’d actually fallen for this. That he’d never do this to us, but is proud of me for being so open minded. Kind of like a stupid test I passed that was meant as a cruel joke initially but when I went with it he decided to test my limits. But it never came. When I realized we were getting closer I kept wanting to break down and beg for him to stop the car, turn around, but it’s like I was too stunned that this was actually happening to do something. I just froze and watched it all happen. I don’t even remember picking the note with your name out of that hat. I was too busy looking at all the women, wondering who was going to have a go at my man–”

Her voice cracked and she began sobbing and Harry hesitantly brought his hand to her back, rubbing it soothingly, trying to console her. She turned to bury her face in his side and he took her under his arm as his own eyes glazed over. He felt pathetic for wanting to cry over it just like she was. He’d agreed to this. It wasn’t like he’d found his wife cheating on him in their own bedroom. No, they’d sat down and discussed this, she made sure he was on board 100% over and over, they’d signed up for this and drove all the way up here. He hadn’t been forced into it. 

…Had he?

The woman pulled away suddenly and excused herself, “I need the bathroom. Think I’m gonna be sick.”

Harry stammered something indiscernible as he watched her rush to the ensuite. He couldn’t blame her. He’d felt like throwing up the whole way there. But now he felt different. He felt like punching a wall. Breaking something. And he was anything but a violent man.

He clutched the phone angrily, not even bringing it to his ear as he dialled the number again. He watched as it went straight to voicemail again and dropped it to the floor before he could throw it across the room and smash it against the nearest wall. He pressed the heels of his palms deep into his eye sockets, groaning in an effort to reign it in. 

He stood up and almost stepped on the phone before kicking it to the curb in his way to the minibar. His wife was clearly preoccupied and wasn’t going to be picking up, much less calling him anytime soon. He grabbed an upside down glass from a tray and emptied several mini bottles of vodka in it. By the time the woman reemerged from the ensuite he’d already downed it halfway to what now looked like a decent amount of vodka.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m okay, I stuck my face out the window there for some fresh air and managed to keep it down. Can I have some?”

“By all means. Choose your poison.”

“I don’t care. Make it strong.”

She plopped herself back on the edge of the bed and checked her phone again, and Harry rushed with her glass of vodka double before she could try and dial again. 

“Thank you.”

He watched her try to gulp it down before retching and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Careful, else you’ll definitely end up throwing up.”

“Ugh. Maybe top it up with coke, is there any?”

“Yeah.” He took it back and poured a whole can of lime coke over it before placing the glass back in her trembling hand.

After him sitting back down next to her and both nursing their drinks for a while, she asked in a small voice, “What now? Do we just… wait here?”

“I kind of have to… I drove us here.”

“And I don’t know how to drive.” 

“... Another?”

“Yes, please.”

After raiding the minibar they were both sufficiently able to ease up a bit. She kicked her heels off and he rolled the sleeves of his cardigan to his elbows. He felt stuffy but didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable and remove it even if he did have a wifebeater underneath. She asked about his tattoos and they tried their best to make idle chit chat in an effort to pass the time. Eventually they both sat against the headboard trying to distract one another with different topics of conversation; the design of the hotel room, the quality of the bed linen, the stain on the carpet by the window, the view, the lack of proper parking space, the inconvenient location of the hotel, the bumpy drive to it, the reception lobby, the way everyone else looked- something neither had noticed, too busy with their inner turmoil. 

“What if they landed with eachother, like we did? Should I be worried?”

Harry didn’t mind the question. He was sufficiently buzzed to catch her attempt at a joke to further ease up the tension. “Then you’re in serious trouble.”

“Damn. Is she that much hotter than me?”

Harry shrugged, realizing he hadn’t even taken a proper look at her, in an objective manner. He scanned her from head to toe. He couldn’t imagine her husband had wanted to do this for lack of attraction. “I didn’t mean it as a comparison. But yeah… she’s gorgeous,” he sounded almost remorseful at the admission. “I’m not used to comparing her to anyone, honestly.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“Should I be worried?”

“He’s your opposite, I would say. Jet black hair. Deep, brown, eyes. He’s more bulky, too, he’s a bit of a gym rat.”

Harry gasped in mock offence. “Excuse me? I’m pretty ripped myself, you know. Not everyone pumps steroids, some of us really put in the work for these abs.”

She laughed, “He does not pump anything. He’s just a bigger build than you. Don’t worry, I can tell you’re fit.”

Harry unbuttoned his cardigan and pulled the wifebeater out of his trousers to prove a point, all the same. He patted his stomach and she raised her eyebrows appreciatively, “Oh… okay. Wasn’t expecting a six pack, I’ll admit.”

He covered himself back with a smug smile, it felt nice to be silly for a moment. After a beat, he asked “How about his build…elsewhere?”

She gasped, this time no trace of mockness, then cleared her throat. “He’s… Alright, I guess. He’s the only man I’ve been with, so I don’t really have a term of comparison. Please don’t flash me, though.”

Harry laughed a genuine laughter, “Don’t worry. Although it would be fairly accurate for a case study, I’m a shower, not a grower.” He cleared his throat too, turning a bit serious. “So, he’s the only one you’ve been with and he was just gonna throw that away…”

“I mean, he did throw it away… for all he knows we’re in here going at it,” and then, in a smaller voice, “just like he is.”

Harry kicked off his shoes as well, “Well, Felicity– my wife, that is… she’d been quite, uhm… promiscuous, before we met. In her own words. She’s got quite the body count. I would never judge a person by that, honestly, and I just assumed she hadn’t found the right person for her until we met. She assured me she was ready to settle down and that I was everything she could ask for in a partner. I did have my reservations, though… after being so casual about sex, I was a bit worried she wouldn’t be able to settle for just one man for the rest of her life, but her reassurances put me at ease, and we went through with the wedding. 3 years down the line, though… turns out I was right.”

“...That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

Harry shrugged. “Guess I should be thankful she didn’t cheat, at least. This feels like sort of a loophole, a way to go around it guilt-free. She made it sound like we needed it. Like it was old fashioned of me to believe in monogamy anymore, that it was just a social construct of patriarchy when most men cheat anyway, and that this was a healthy, modern way of approaching a functional relationship. She wanted us to open our marriage and when I told her that I didn’t want anyone else, she suggested swinging to… see how I feel about it, since I couldn’t imagine actively seeking anyone out; so this sounded like a way to test out the waters before we fully jumped into this. But what I couldn’t get across to her is that you can’t just trial run cheating.” He cleared his throat, “Sorry, that was a bit off handed. I understand the concept of an open relationship and why it might work for some, and that it’s not cheating if both partners are fully in agreement…”

“Yeah, you’re right. I understand why it works for some, too. I’m just… not one of those people. It’s not even jealousy, it's so much more than that… I got married thinking this is my person. That it’s us, and us alone. I didn’t even save myself for marriage or anything, it just so happened that I ended up marrying the first man I slept with. We’ve been together 7 years, highschool sweethearts and all that… He’d been with a few before me, and I was glad for it, thought it would help avoid this very issue. I wouldn’t have liked him feeling like he was missing out on experiencing that with other women and one day feel the need to satisfy that curiosity. So that’s why when he sprung this on me… I was shocked, honestly. Swinging? Really? Ugh, I’m sorry… it’s like you said. I’m not judging anyone, but it’s just not for me. I thought… I actually thought our sex life was good, you know? He led me to believe it was, at least… Guess I’m not as… experienced as other women.”

“I seriously doubt it’s got anything to do with that. And likewise, I thought our sex life was good too. More than good. I’m honestly all over her all the damn time. And I’m plenty experienced. She never gave me reason to believe I wasn’t satisfying her, ever. We’re very open about our kinks and curiosities and whatnot. There’s nothing she wanted to try out that I said no to, and that’s ‘cause I genuinely was always on the same page. Except for this. This I’m not ok with, and I tried explaining it to her but it felt like a losing battle if I were to just say no. If I don’t agree to this, what then? Cheating? Sneaking behind my back? At least she was honest with me telling me she wanted more… made me feel ungrateful for denying her this when she was so open about it. I talked myself into it because I was too scared of what she might do if I declined.”

“Ugh, that’s exactly it. That’s why I went for it, too… I kept telling myself most women don’t get to be asked what their take on this is. At least he was being honest with me… that I’m just not enough… I tried asking him to explore more of his fantasies, anything that he felt he could get from someone else, I wanted to be the one to give to him. But he kept telling me he just couldn’t let go and just do all the things he wanted to with me. Apparently he respects me too much.”

Harry snorted, “That’s rich.”

“Right? Like if he wanted to be rougher, degrade me a bit, try kinkier stuff.. he just had to say so. I always wanted that, anyway… but I’m too scared to ask him to do that. It’s very… vanilla. I don’t blame him for wanting more, but I can’t get myself to bring up what I wanna try in the bedroom.”

“Oh… okay. Why do you feel you can’t tell him? You respect him too much?”

She giggled, “It’s not that I can’t. It’s more that I won’t. I don’t want to. I want him to take the lead. I want him to…”

“Dominate you?”

“Yeah.”

Harry clicked his tongue, humming lowly. They were both quiet for a beat. “Felicity is the opposite. She’s the dominant one. It’s not that I mind… But I wouldn’t say I’m fully submissive… I’m more of a switch. I’d like it to be more of an even playing field, at the very least. Like, I like her taking charge, and I loved it at the beginning because I was used to always being the dominant one in the bedroom, and I was actually looking for someone to put me in my place for a change. But she never lets me take the reins. Whenever I try she just blows me off and makes me feel less than. And then she mistakes my apprehensiveness for submissiveness when I give up. It’s something… I haven’t really been able to communicate with her either. She should want me to dominate her, you know? Not be talked into it. So I kinda… suppressed that. But even so, I never thought to myself oh cool now I get to be a dom again with someone else. In fact, it didn’t even cross my mind until now.”

“Hm.” After a beat, she asked “What’s that like? Is it like… I dunno, actually. Porn? Or those Fifty Shades books?”

Harry snickered a bit but then took in her genuine curiosity. “I mean… I haven’t read those books, so I can’t speak about that, but from what I’ve seen in porn, it’s definitely not what I would describe as a healthy dynamic. Uhm, porn is catered more to the male gaze, to put it nicely.”

She laughed, “I’d say. But I don’t like the kind they advertise for women either. It’s just too…”

“Vanilla?”

“I guess? Yeah…” she sighed profusely.

“You never see aftercare in dom/sub porn for instance. That’s so important. Like, they’re leaving out so much. And plenty of other things…”

Harry glanced at her when he thought he heard a faint snore and to his surprise, she had, in fact, fallen asleep. She couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t dare try and move her or even drape a blanket over her mainly because they were sitting atop the duvet. He gently took the empty glass out of her hand so as to not accidentally turn in her sleep and break it, injuring herself. He left the nightstand lights on and tried to sleep too after retrieving his phone from the other side of the room where he’d kicked it.

No missed calls of course.

He tossed and turned for ages, mindful to keep to the edge of the bed and give his companion space and was certain he wouldn’t be able to catch a wink of sleep. He was surprised, to say the least, when he was shaken awake. 

“Uhm… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry to wake you–”

Harry rubbed his face and took in his surroundings. He looked at the young woman and took in her dishevelled appearance, it looked like she’d been crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… freaking out. I woke up and I can’t calm down… I wanna uber home, but I’m scared to ride alone, it’s 4 am. Could you please give me your number so I could share my ride location live with you? I didn’t wanna ask a friend, no one knows I’m here, doing this, I don’t wanna have to explain–”

“Hey, hey… hey. Calm down.” He tried soothing her. She was a mess. “I’ll drive you home. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, oh no. I couldn’t– Plus, you had a bit to drink…”

“I’m fine. I slept it off. Feels like I’m waking up from the dead, honestly. A drive would do me good, clear my mind a bit. I’ll just run to the bathroom and we can head out, alright?”

The woman nodded, fixing her clothes and looking for her shoes as he went to relieve himself. He looked a right mess. He tried not to dwell on it, running his fingers through his hair and splashing some water on his face, and when he emerged  from the ensuite she was ready to go.

“Thank you, thank you so much for doing this. Really…”

“It’s alright, I promise. Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

“Gladly.”

They made it to his car and she typed in her address into his gps. Harry kept stealing glances at her the whole way; in truth, he was worried about her. She seemed extremely shaken up, more so than originally. “Are you alright?”

“I just… it just hit me, when I woke up with you there, and it all came crashing down, the reality of it. My marriage is over…” her voice cracked and he reached his hand to her thigh, squeezing reassuringly.

“Hey… at least you know how you feel about this, and how he feels about this… If anything, cards are on the table now… Doesn’t have to be over if you really don’t want it to be. Do you?”

“I don’t know what I want… I don’t know if I can get over this… Do you?”

Harry felt his heart constrict at the realization that he did know. He’d been denied a lot in their relationship and this had really put things into perspective for him. Not only could he not dominate his wife sexually, something he would’ve never held against her- after all, he would never force that dynamic on her, he loved her and he’d been ready to bury that facet of his sexuality when he asked her to be his wife. So why couldn’t she let go of her need for more? He couldn’t even keep her to himself. He felt emasculated, worthless… and most of all, he didn’t feel loved, heard, seen.

He parked the car where the young woman instructed and after killing the engine he turned to her “I do. And I think you do, too.”

Part Two

A/N: 👀 so yeah, introducing swingrry. with all those WIPs somehow i felt the need for another one! this will have a part 2 and then that's it ahahah i'm trying to keep things shorter! hope you guys like it and are intrigued for what's to come ❤️ come talk to me abt it! thanks to the lovely @freedomfireflies for betaing ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[genericpuff]

What makes a comic good in your eyes? And what makes it bad?

Oof, that's a BIG question that I can't exactly give one single answer to. There are a ton of factors. For me the biggest thing is writing, while the art might be a turnoff if it isn't polished in the beginning, it's still not a dealbreaker for me, I've read tons of comics that started off still figuring out their art (and that's the beauty of webcomics, really). It's when the writing isn't interesting or good that I tend to drop off. Maybe the plot doesn't make sense or takes too long to establish what it's trying to do, maybe the jokes feel forced or poorly written.

I think writing tends to sort of take an unintentional backseat in webcomics, and it just comes with the territory. Tons of online artists naturally come up with their own characters that they want to write stories for, so they gravitate towards webcomics. Whereas writers - even online ones - don't tend to see webcomics as the default, they'll usually end up in the fanfiction circles or on Wattpad or even just ditching the online format entirely and going straight into trad publishing. It's why there are so many writers looking for artists in the webcomic community, you won't find artists looking for writers quite so much because they usually wind up using webcomics as an entry point into writing. Writers can't use webcomics as an entry point into drawing quite as well, there's a LOT more upfront work into learning how to draw vs. learning how to write (but writing is ultimately harder to master, knowing how to write scenes on the page doesn't necessarily mean you're writing those scenes well).

So I find more often than not the writing ends up being a dealbreaker for me. Art gets me interested enough to take a peek, but the writing is what keeps me invested, so if the writing isn't sound, I'm probably not gonna stick with it. If a comic does feel like it isn't written (or even drawn) up to what I would define as "good", I try to identify what exactly what's wrong with it, not just so I can better understand why it isn't working, but so I can implement that understanding into my own work. It's not just learning what works in a comic, it's also learning what doesn't work.

Still, I try to distinguish between whether a comic is "good or bad" vs. whether or not it's even meant for me. I've definitely read comics in the past that didn't click with me but I could totally see why people liked it, it just didn't appeal to what I was looking for or my humor or whatever. Some comics are objectively great and they just don't connect with me, like Scoob & Shag, Homestuck, etc. where I can respect why people like them, I just like, couldn't get into them no matter how many times I tried LMAO And then some comics are objectively not great and I enjoy them anyways, like Deep Fried Pudge, which is literally just a daily single panel dad-humor-full-of-puns comic, it had no right being in my subscription list when I was still on Tapas but something about it was so charming to me. I feel bad even calling it "bad" because it's not trying to be anything, it's just this humble little passtime project that someone started and never stopped. And I mean it has not stopped updating since 2012, every time I check in on it I'm astounded to see it's STILL going at 4,036 episodes. I have no idea what power the person who makes this possesses but they will surely outlive us all, I can only rationalize its existence as the closest I've ever been to perceiving God.

[makriiii]

Caught VI (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Authors notes: I'm running out of things to say

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, gun violence.

Ao3 or wattpad!

@thatlittlered !:)

Caught VI

Dutch's camp was vibrant with life, a smile cracked at your lips all while you heard Uncle tell stories of old around the crackling campfire to anyone who would sit and listen.

They were absurd from the bits you heard, which was the reason for your smile.

You were starting to feel less of an outcast, and more like how it felt to ride with a gang again. Though everyone here acted more like a family. The O'Driscolls? not so much.

Pearson was making something, the what, you couldn't quite distinguish, but everyone was amped for it.

It'd been a long day, and messing around with Arthur just a few hours previous made it even longer.

He was across camp from you, even through most of the darkness that shrouded camp, you could see him glaring at you every so often.

There wasn't much he'd do to you in camp, which was why you ran straight here. Perhaps like a yellow belly, perhaps not. Either way you didn't care.

The few dollars you had in your pocket from raiding a cabin out in the middle of nowhere sat idly in your pocket until you funneled them into the camp's money box, shutting it once you laid them to rest.

"Y/n." Dutch, of all people, greets with a friendly nod.

You felt your stomach get all twisty, the same feeling you got when you stumbled upon a drunk Colm.

Nodding back without hesitation, the rest of your body stock-still. You couldn't be sure of what he wanted.

"Is there something you need?" You ask politely, your lips thinning together when you thought of the measly 5 stray bucks you just donated.

"Why, no not particularly- in this moment." He had a way of making his words penetrate deeply, maybe soothing to someone not an O'Driscoll.

"You know, I don't actually think I complimented you on that stunt you managed."

You keep your eyes trained on him, his cigar fresh in his mouth before he blows it out not far from your nose.

"It was impressive, kid. I think you got potential. You just had your efforts in the... wrong place." He stood only feet away from you with his hand on his hip.

Cocking your head as to question where he was going with this, hoping it wasn't something crazy like the train robbery again.

You knew better this time.

"Thank you, Dutch, but I don't have a cravin' for another bullet. Right now at least." You decline with a half joke, the stinging pain in your arm still fresh in memory.

"Oh, no, no! Of course not. I can only imagine how that bullet felt." He chortles, sliding right up next to you, his arm around your neck, effectively making you walk with him.

He takes another draw of his cigar, then waved his arm once around to showcase the camp in front of you. "I've seen the donations you've been making. I can see you are willing to help."

The smoke of his cigar filled your lungs with each pause he took, keeping you in suspense. He kept you walking slowly through camp to see everyone of its members.

"See now, we're not always making the best money, and we need money to keep this camp functioning." His voice sounded softer with each of the sentences he pressed into you.

"You wouldn't be doing it alone, not at all. I just feel..." He circles his hand to help the words roll out. "We need it to go well, and I can tell you handle yourself more than well."

Your shoulders were taught and tense holding up his arm that felt like a stone around you.

"I mean, what is it? Nothing too wild, I hope. Retirement was on my mind after I got gunned down by your favorite crony."

He lightly hunched over with a hearty laugh for a moment, half bringing you down with him before he finally released his hold on you.

"Oh, come now. You both on the mission would do just fine. And even though it's not been long since you were an O'Driscoll, you seem to have heart in this camp."

Maybe that was true. You did have heart in this camp. And maybe had the circumstances been different, you and Arthur might've gotten along. But he shot you, and he was to pay for that. Plus, he straight up grated on your nerves.

He examined your partially amused face, sensing your remaining skepticism.

"It's not too big a undertaking, I'm sure Arthur can give you the details." You didn't want Arthur to give you the details. "Now, listen, I'm not asking you to forget, but forgive, just for now."

He patted your back, giving another small chuckle, thinking back on your joke, traipsing happily back to his tent.

He knew he convinced you full well.

Dutch didn't catch the memo, clearly. Being so drunk you could hardly tell Arthur apart from a cow was the only time you could 'forgive' him.

Typically, you didn't hold grudges. You'd do away with them before you felt the need, but you couldn't do that with Arthur. Having two gangs on your ass was above your participation level.

Standing where Dutch left you, you zoned out as you contemplated and fully came to terms with your desire to please him. Simply, suck it up with the whole Arthur thing.

Alright. You shook yourself out of your small daze, dawning a face sure to piss off your dearest Arthur.

He wasn't staring so hard now. In Fact, he didn't even notice you approaching, until he gazed back up to give you his routine glare.

His blue eyes caught the firelight just right, amplifying his irritability it seemed.

You walked around his back, giving it a 'friendly pat' which you hoped would leave a mark.

"You act like someone is going to keep me from matchin' your right arm to your left." He growls under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear over the cheers and rambunctious conversations from around the camp.

"Oh, I'll be fine to do that myself. You bested me once, you know. Once. Makin' me regret saving your annoying ass."

You made sure to lean in real close so he heard your words right in his ear.

"Is there a reason you decided to bother me? Throwing my pants into the water wasn't enough?"

"If you stopped yapping for a second, I'd tell you why I came over."

He gave you a look that no doubt signaled to get it over with, and you were happy to oblige, seeing as he wasn't debating further.

"I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear I'm tagging along with you on your latest trip."

He rested his face in his palm. He was both unbelieving and entirely uninterested.

You shared his look, to mock him, but also because you weren't hyped for it either.

"Alright. Give me a hour's head start so you stay well out of ear shot. Sight too."

That sounded like a solution, if he was the one waiting. There was very little incentive for you to go in the first place. You didn't know the full extent, not even the extent. Nothing.

"Nah, you can put up with me for a while. I'm not even being that bad right now."

"So you'd say. It's Right now. No telling what'll leave your mouth tomorrow. " You always got the most passionate scoffs from him. "What else is it?"

You lay your feet out straight, leaning back with your arms propping you up. Mainly to show him you weren't going anywhere yet. Much like he had back at the creek.

"You're supposed to tell me what the take is."

He shakes his head with such vitriol, you'd think he had just been asked his hand in marriage from you. "It gets to be a surprise for you, O'Driscoll. See just how well you can do."

A deep groan rolls out of you, tilting your head back slowly to get a good look at the stars.

The same stars that had calmed you whilst you rode with near perfect victory up in the grizzlies.

"So dreadfully sorry your pants took a dip, Arthur, really. The kind little lady over here would like to know just what she's getting into though." Pleading sarcastically wasn't something you'd done since childhood.

Never a need for it until this man came round.

Now he crowed hoarsely, you could tell he didn't quite mean to, but he did. "'Kind little lady'." He quoted, the more he went on, the more you got irritated.

"Just tell me. I ain't for begging." Your fists dug into the wood under you.

"I am. So beg, O'Driscoll. Maybe then you'll get somewhere." His eyes beat into you with sincerity. Of course he'd say that.

Your trigger finger tingled with every word leaving his smug mouth.

"I beg for no man. Especially not for some low life criminal." Oh, how cheeky it was to say. As another lowlife criminal, you were better in no way.

He raised a brow, a lopsided grin pushed his cheeks up. "Sure, princess. You should go get your beauty sleep before we ride. Let me have peace before I deal with you all day."

You bit back more fight, instead, giving him another 'friendly pat' straight down on his thigh. "Keep your pants near and dear, Arthur. Water never denied anything a soakin'."

He comforted his leg with his hand, much more clemency with the smack than what he cared to show your arm before.

"If you want them off that bad, just ask." There wasn't a flicker of annoyance in his voice anymore- just that cocksure smugness. Both of you knew what really rubbed the other wrong.

Involuntarily, your eye twitched, a spasm made only possible with what that Arthur could conjure.

"Never castrated someone before, but you'd do mighty fine to be my first."

He snorted, seemingly having way too much fun with your back and forth than he planned on. You did too- in some ways. In most ways you also didn't.

-

Just barely north of New Austin now, the ride grueling under the sun, which was setting now. The gold, orange and pink in harmonious layers spanning the skyline before it gave way to night.

Night. Always a good time for robberies.

Along the way, Sean made sure to tell you all about it. He was excited that because he had found out about this, he got to come, and unsuspectingly gave you the details Arthur deliberately kept from you.

Stories and memories from childhood of Robin hood laid in the back of your head.

Take from the rich- and well, you were the second part. The poor. As any outlaw dreams not to be.

The Secord family. They were to be gone for a week. Mr. Secord committing to his role in the oil business, taking his family along for a vacation.

It was the perfect clear cut robbery, and how Sean had found out from some random in town was beyond you.

The oil business. So lucrative for the lucky. And so lucrative for the ones unlucky, as they usually do the robbin' from the fortunate.

"I can see it now." Bill announces, clearly spotted something that you hadn't from his tall mount. "I think we should stop here."

Arthur nods to Sean and you, everyone dismounting and preparing.

"Should be smooth sailing, if there's no hired hands." Arthur assures, checking his ammo.

You hoped it was going to be smooth sailing, having seen a motel an hour back or so. You wanted a half decent bed and your own room after traveling all day.

"Right." Sean cheers, pointing his shotgun up as if he were to fire it, which alarmed you, Bill and Arthur. "I'll fix any of the bastards, have there be any."

Arthur mumbles something under his breath, bringing his hands up to rub his face in exasperation.

You loved having a second person who annoyed Arthur as much as you did. You didn't even have to ask, he just does.

"No funny business." Bill warns Sean with a stern glare. "We do this fast, no need to linger."

Sean rolled his eyes in defiance, repeating Bill's words in a low tone to mock him. A handful, that boy.

The four of you slowly crept up, searching and scanning for any sign of life in or out of the massive house. Upon seeing no one, the tension that kept you all tight-knit slacked into a loose circle.

It was hardly a farm, but it had a decent barn and a shed close to the back of the house.

The place wasn't far from town, and in other words, you prayed you were unlikely to see anyone, or have anyone see you.

It'd be a quick in & out after all.

"Careful. Don't want to wake anyone up." Arthur reasserts, his bandana muffled his voice, but only slightly.

"There really don't seem to be much to wake up, are you seeing things in your old age, Arthur?" Sean chimes, spinning in a 360 to check the validity of his statement, which he should've done before he started up.

A younger man came out from behind the shed, the barrel of his rifle facing you down, which never stayed on one target for long, waving it around at each one of you.

"Stay right there!" He barks, his frame shaky with adrenaline.

Sean stopped in his tracks, squinting his eyes. More discontent with his insult backfiring than the threat at hand.

"Probably you and that loud mouth, Sean." Arthur throws out his elbow at Sean, poking fun at him, although aloof.

Sean scorned with Arthurs jab, replied bitterly. "Shut up, Arthur."

Had you approached this better, maybe you guys could've played it off as debt collectors, or business associates. But the boy was way beyond that point.

"Don't worry, we don't want no trouble... Just your things." Bill's laugh came out evil, his gun cocking under this thumb.

The young man shuffled in panicked and jerking hesitations, unsure of what to do with himself. He could shoot, or he could run.

He too, knew his two options, and chose wisely. Run.

He dropped his gun, finding himself his horse out back, kicking the poor thing to hell, just to get outta of here fast.

"I hope you know sparing him means whoever he tells, won't spare us." Sean grumbles, his hand gripped angrily at his shotgun, scolding Bill.

That was probably true. So Arthur waited no time and pointed him to the barn as if he were a kid in trouble. "Go see if there's anything in that barn, boy. Go on, git."

Sean scoffs, shaking his head, no doubt feeling a certain level of entitlement to do what he desires.

"Ask me to scoop the shit out next, English. Just as likely to do that."

Walking past the obstinate Sean, you brandished your gun and carefully opened the door to the dark and empty house.

It would be hard to see anyone, if there were. As incredulous as you felt, but there really seemed to be no one else of opposition.

You heard Sean and Arthur bicker some more behind you, until finally Sean relented, leaving Arthur to join you inside the house.

There was two whole floors to rummage, and if you had to guess, most of the valuables would be upstairs.

"I'll go upstairs." You call to Arthur, gun still in hand. You'd have to clear the upstairs before you felt comfortable enough to put it away.

Arthur acknowledged you with a small up and down of his head and went about searching the other downstairs rooms.

The whole second floor was just as magnificent as the first. It took next to no thought to know where these folk stood financially.

Paintings of all sorts plastered the walls, their details dimmed by the dark in the house. Perfectly clean furniture sat with fancy decorum on top and intricate wallpaper designs in the backdrop.

You knew there had to be good money somewhere with these telling signs.

Firstly, you checked the rooms, passing through what seemed to be two littles girls' rooms with nothing of interest before you found where you could hit gold.

The master bedroom.

It overlooked the barn and shed, which you saw Sean rumbling through.

Atop the nightstand was a small jewelry box, heavy with some sort of metals which you didn't care to scour around in now.

You removed the few paintings off their places in the room, but nothing sat behind them as you hoped.

Pacing the room, your boots hit nothing but dense floorboards.

Until A hollow board groaned under the preassure of your heel, quick to give its position away. The sound filled you with glee, removing any skepticism that there wasn't anything left in here.

You kneeled down, knife in hand, eager to pry.

It came open without much resistance, cobwebs and dust met your expectant hand.

Before you could even fully reach into the dingy little floor cavity, a shot rang out.

Your entire body jerked upright, Charles' borrowed shotgun hollering to you from it's spot on your back.

From the window, you could see five or six men who funneled into the barn from the behind.

Shouting and yelling was indistinguishable from the window.

"We got company!" Sean manages to outdo the rest of the noise, bolting from the barn to cover behind a tree.

You couldn't tell if Arthur and Bill had started shooting yet, but you sure as hell were.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you hit one poor sucker who stuck too far out of the barn.

When the men stopped popping out from the cover of the barn, you turned and sprang downstairs.

There were multiple holes in the house's downstairs wall, you knew it wasn't good cover.

By the time you peeked around outside, your heart was pounding with adrenaline.

Flames bursted from the back of the barn.

"What the hell? Who lit the barn on fire?" Bill retreats from the shed, running up to the front of the porch.

The last few of the men weren't in there anymore, leaving behind a burning barn instead. Perhaps thats why they ran.

Sean started back into the barn, waving you guys over too. Why on earth would he go back in there? And even more insane, encourage you to follow?

He let out a horse, who legged it straight out with fear, letting out a cry to the others in the barn.

Now you understood, not wasting another second to help Sean.

"Arthur, there's something upstairs in the floorboards." You call to him from behind, sprinting over to aid Sean in the growing inferno.

The fire ate at the back half of the barn, flames leaving charred wood with each moment passed. Moments you couldn't waste.

Horses whinnied and cried out with the smoldering beams that fell closer and closer to them with the heat.

The sweat on Sean's panicked face glistened against the glare of the bright orange and red, unrelentling in its path.

The latches on the stall were easy enough to undo, but the frightened beasts inside weren't always so willing to go right out. Which had you going in to scare them out.

Smoke congregated in its area inside the barn, getting ever so worse.

You pulled up your bandana to help with some of the smoke, but your teary eyes didn't get the same grace, burning incessantly.

There were four stalls on each side, with every furthering one, you realized you should've started in the back.

Releasing each horse didn't take much time, but neither did the fire in its travel. Near greeting you right where you stood now.

The final stall held a mare and foal, flames licked ever closer to them.

You coughed and coughed, shooing them out before something you couldn't save them from transpired.

Sean was already out of the barn, in front with Arthur and Bill, who waved at you desperately.

The final stretch of the barn aisle just in front of you started filling with small smoldering embers and wood that dropped from above. Covering the three bodies that laid at the entrance.

A petrifying crack rang through you, the sound collapsing an entire loft down in the way of your only escape.

You didn't even know what to say, much less do. You didn't think saving horses was as stupid as a solo train robbery. But here you were, again, life on the line.

It was blurry with the tears and smoke that filled your vision. Squinting your eyes and swivelling your head in every direction.

With your hopes dimming, you noticed one last chance.

Smoke escaping out the the stall windows.

Just big enough for a horse's head to peek out was difficult to get through, not to mention pull yourself up and out through.

The coughing unforgiving and your ability to breathe deteriorating made asphyxiation a undeniable possibility.

"I'm comin'." Arthur calls, a loud thump at the wall caused you to back away.

He must've seen you flailing your arms out of the gap, but not much relief came from it.

Every hit weakened the wood. Weakened, not broke.

The heat grew, every inch of the barn feeding the fire closer to where you stood backed up completely to the corner.

Flames bit close to your feet, the stall bedding perfect fuel.

Finally someone's leg broke through the wall, followed by your arm being yanked so hard you reckoned it would come out the socket.

The smoke that filled your lungs cleared slowly as you heaved in breaths, being dragged away from the immediate danger.

"You crazy bastards." Arthur chuckles, a twinge of relieved concern in his laugh. "Are you okay?"

Your throat ran up and down with pain, each dry cough hurt adding to it. "Yeah." You confirmed with a hoarse whisper.

"Nearly flew with the angels, O'Driscoll!" Sean crows in between coughs, hunching over to catch his breath.

"Tell me about it." You couldn't help but snicker at these fools for laughing after you nearly got cooked.

Bill stood over you as well, his laugh matched the others. "I like this one, Arthur."

You laid sprawled in a starfish position, shutting your eyes to soothe the burning. Your chest shaking with the chuckles that left more as a cough than anything, but amusement nonetheless.

"Yeah?" Arthur was about to start again, you could already tell. Warn Bill of an issue you'd only give him. "Wait till you're the subject of her carping."

"No. That's your problem." Bill was quick to dismiss himself from any of that responsibility.

"Unfortunately." Arthur sighs, but not with his usual contempt. Not even a trace.

"I think we should get outta here though. Who knows where those men ran off to." Bill reminds from the side of you, which had you in favour.

You nodded, wiping away the tears at your eyes while you sat on the dirt, recollecting yourself. With your body cooling, you surprisingly didn't feel many burns, just a few on your knuckles.

"Yeah, they ran cuz they saw me." Sean jokes, puffing himself out after all that hacking.

"Oh sure. A scrawny little red head is enough to scare off the best of them." Bill gives Sean a few hearty slaps, pushing him in the direction of the horses.

"Now if I remember correctly, you were the one runnin'." Arthur was quick to point out Seans bull, which made made you stifle a giggle. Anymore of it and you'd have no throat left.

Arthur hooked his arm in yours, pulling you up and to your surprise, kept it there. Turning you away from the fire and helping you towards your horses.

"We're even now, y/n." Arthur was sure to mention, whether it was the right time or not, he didn't care. "Twice, I've saved you, but apparently the first time don't count."

You gave him a slap to his torso from your half bent over position for his teasing in this moment. "Damn right it didn't."

Once you lot reached the horses, you were about to get on, but Arthur stopped you.

He pulled out your hands, inspecting them for just a second. He didn't linger, not wanting to give you the wrong idea.

Arthur gently lifts you up by the waist, just this time, you didn't deny his assistance so vehemently. He untied the reins and handed them to you, making you thank him with a choked murmur.

"I was stuck in that fire too, Arthur." Sean demonstrates by coughing more. "Why aren't you lifting me up into my saddle as well?"

Arthur had a good laugh on that, mostly by the absurdity of it. "You'd have to be within an inch of your life for me to put you in your saddle, boy."

"Oh, you're the most considerate man I've met, Arthur, really." Sean quips, spurring his horse back in the direction you all came.

Arthur hums his sarcastic agreement, mounting his horse and following along with the rest of your group.

"Did you get whatever it was upstairs, the jewelry box too?" You ask Arthur as he speeds up next to you.

"I did." He assures patting his satchel. "Good thing you didn't end up taking it too, else the two thousand dollars might've caught fire."

You could feel Bill and Sean all turn their heads in awe. You none the better, jaw dropped.

"I told you, Arthur!" Sean whooped and hollered from atop his horse, waving his arms in victory. "Aren't you glad you listened to the young whippersnapper Sean now?"

Arthur's face split with the happiest grin you done ever saw on it, and you couldn't help but smile because of it too. It was contagious and not something you thought you'd catch.

"Just this once." Bill in as jovial mood as ever, no one at all bothered by the shootout or the burning building anymore. Just the thought of two thousand dollars pocketed.

You turned your head back to look at the amass of flames. The barren and barely standing silhouette of the barn crumbling to its foundation.

You hoped it wouldn't spread to the house. You could only imagine how terrible it'd be to come back to your horses loose and your barn burned. And it wasn't even your group that had set it ablaze.

Alas, 2k was likely a small amount to Mr. Secord, and with that, you didn't dwell on it. Instead, celebrating with the split money, joking and coughing with your little band of outlaws by your side.

---

Ofc you'd get stuck in the burning building, It's for the non existent plot line🧍‍♂️

[storytellersumayyah]

THE GUIDE AND THE LIGHT: SEASON ONE, EPISODE FOUR

The Guide and The Light are a series of comedic, romantic and soft short stories detailing the representation Muslims want but are never allowed to have. We all deserve to see ourselves fall in love and keep that love. We all deserve to have our beliefs respected and celebrated, instead of treated like a joke or insulted.

It’s about giving my community what they want and turning conversations that shouldn’t have happened in public into something we can all smile at. I hope you enjoy. (Also yes, this is a lot more than a month later since the previous episode, is anyone surprised? Updates are now sporadic e.g. they will come when the episode after is finished)

read on wattpad instead! | rewatch previous episode | play next episode | view full series

EPISODE FOUR: THE TROUBLE WITH NICKNAMES

SYNOPSIS: IT'S BEEN SAID THAT SOMETIMES, THE MEDIA ENCOURAGES PEOPLE TO DO SILLY THINGS. TRYING TO GIVE YOUR NEW SPOUSE A NICKNAME WHEN YOU CANNOT KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE WHILST CALLING THEM WIFEY OR LOVERBOY MAY FALL INTO THIS CATEGORY, BUT YAHYA AND NOOR ARE DETERMINED TO DO IT!

It starts, as most things tend to, with Yahya and Noor watching a show together. Noor has her feet resting on Yahya’s lap. She keeps adjusting the way her head is positioned. Yahya knows it would be more comfortable if it was resting on his shoulder. That’s how she falls asleep the easiest.

“You can sit in my lap if you want,” he blurts out.

She blinks a few times. “Huh?”

“You don’t need to. But you don’t look that comfortable. And if you’re in my lap, you can rest your head on my shoulder.”

Noor thinks about it for a second, and then Yahya can feel her hair brushing his neck.

He picks up the remote and rewinds twenty seconds.

“Little star,” the person on screen says.

“Nicknames are cute,” Noor comments.

Yahya stops the drama and switches it to an English cartoon to give them some background noise.

“Would you like a nickname?” Yahya asks.

She shrugs. “It could be nice. But I only want one if you have one,” she says.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies. “So, what do you want to be called? Buttercup? Sugar muffin? Love?”

Noor starts laughing. “No, no. None of those. They’re all awful. It’s like if I suddenly started calling you macho man.”

Yahya choked on air. “That is the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Right!”

“I don’t even want to know how you ended up hearing that name,” he says.

She shrugs. “Things happen when you and your uni friends stay up too late.” Before she can expand more, she’s yawning into his shoulder.

Yahya laughs. “I think it’s time for bed.”

She shakes her head. “But I’m comfortable here. Don’t want to move.”

An idea comes into his mind. He knows he can do it. If he can’t, they’ll let it go. It won’t be shameful. Nothing is shameful with Noor, it’s just things they tried that didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. So as she shifts closer, her eyes closed and her breathing starting to slow, Yahya moves the hand that was originally playing with hers. Noor makes a sound of protest. Yahya shushes her gently and slides it under her legs, standing.

Noor’s hands immediately loop themselves around the back of his neck as she screams. Yahya lowers his arms so he can hold her more comfortably, but she shakes her head and turns to hide her face. For a moment, he’s worried she’s actually scared, but then he sees the faint colour in her cheeks and he knows she’s just flustered by the fact that she likes it.

“What are you doing?” She asks, head buried in his neck.

“You didn’t want to move,” Yahya says, as though it’s all the explanation in the world that’s needed.

Noor giggles, a soft and light sound. Yahya is still learning how she laughs. Sometimes, it is a loud and obvious thing. That’s when something is funny. Other times, it is a short thing- only half there. That’s when it’s not funny, but she refuses to rock the boat too hard. And recently, it has been a soft and light thing. That’s when Yahya has done something to disarm her. When he’s flirted back and she hasn’t quite known how to cope.

“Well, then carry me to bed,” she tells him.

“Whatever my princess wants,” he teases, both because it’s the natural nickname and because he has a sneaking suspicion that-

“Do not ever call me that again,” Noor says, but she doesn’t ask to be put down so Yahya just laughs and does as she asks.

They fall asleep the way they always do. With Yahya’s arm slung around Noor’s shoulder, her head nestled into the crook of his neck. Her hair smells like cherry blossoms. It’s the last thing Yahya smells before sleep takes him.

His alarm goes off for Fajr. Noor stirs, but he runs a hand over her head and gently pulls the duvet back over her. It’s getting colder, which means the prayer times are getting later. He knows he won’t sleep, but he wants to be cosy, so he gets back into bed and reads until Noor’s alarm goes off for work. He turns his own- set for ten minutes later- off.

She mumbles a Salam. He responds in kind.

An idea pops into his mind. “How did you sleep baby?” He asks.

She shakes her head. “Absolutely detested that one.”

“I had a feeling you would. Answer the question!”

“Good, I guess. Weird dream though. Remember that book I used to love as a teen? I was asked to be in the adaptation, but then I had to pick five celebrities I wanted to make appearances but it took me too long so they kicked me out,” she says.

“That is weird. I don’t actually remember my dream,” he tells her.

She shrugs, still a little too tired for real conversation. She kisses his cheek before she gets out of bed.

He gets started on breakfast whilst she showers. When she comes into the dining room, dressed for work, her hair is still loose.

“I’m probably going to need to change the bedding tonight,” she says. “So dinner may be delayed.”

“If you go to the bathroom, let me know if it does. I think I’ll be back before you today, I can do it. And I can make dinner. You just wash your hair.”

“Are you sure? You would’ve changed it on Saturday. And you cooked last time- we’re supposed to take it in turns.”

“We do take it in turns. But I don’t want you washing your hair and then cooking, and I also don’t want you to delay it,” Yahya explains.

She smiles. “You’re the bestest ever.”

He shrugs, and ducks his head, knowing it’s futile when Noor coos at his cuteness.

Whilst she double-checks that everything is where it should be in her bag, he goes to change. He comes down as she’s putting her shoes on.

“Be safe,” he says, as he always does.

She kisses his cheek. “I will. You too. See you tonight, sweetheart!”

He’s left stunned by the nickname. He regains his bearings as the door slams shut. After closing the porch door to keep the warmth in, he grabs his phone.

Let’s not stick with sweetheart.

She replies a few minutes later.

It sounded awful. I realised. As soon as I said it.

Have you made it to the station?

She responds with a selfie. She’s standing on the platform, smiling and with a thumbs-up.

You look beautiful.

Thank you. I’m glad you appreciate. Someone saw me and gave me the most unimpressed look. Now pay up.

He rolls his eyes affectionately and responds with his own selfie.

Thank you. Looking very cute!

You’re the sweetest.

And then he leaves himself.

As expected, the kids are obsessed with hearing about the honeymoon and everything that has happened since. Although Yahya is a private person who doesn’t enjoy the spotlight and would prefer to keep the details of his outside life contained to outside school, he indulges them because it is Noor. After they have done their work.

He ends up getting home before Noor. She had messaged earlier saying their bedding needed changing. He gets out her fresh towels, then puts everything in the washing machine, ready for her to switch on after she’d washed her hair and put the clothes she’d worn to work in. He starts to make dinner when he hears her key in the lock.

It has become one of his favourite sounds.

“Honey I’m home!” She says.

When he opens the kitchen door, she doesn’t look impressed with herself.

“I was going to say. Abhorrent. How was work?” He asks.

“You can’t just go around saying abhorrent. The same. How are the kids?”

Yahya smiles softly. “They’re good. Wanted to know all about you. Also, yes I can.”

“That’s cute. Like you- I said it first!”

He sighs. “I suppose I have to let you beat me every once in a while.”

She grins. “Right, I’m going to wash my hair.”

Whilst Yahya checks his phone to double-check how long the chicken needs, he’s struck by a moment of inspiration.  

Noor comes racing down the stairs, her hair still slightly damp. Yahya had heard the hairdryer going for several minutes, so he doesn’t say anything. She won’t get ill, and the curls will keep for a few days.

“Beautiful flower,” he tells her.

She starts laughing. The proper laugh. The real one. He knows it’s not meant to be mean, but he feels his cheeks go warm.

“Did you google nicknames for your wife?” She asks.

He wants to ask her why she would know that, but he’s not quite sure it’s a story he wants to hear in that very moment so he just shrugs.

She wraps her arms around his waist. “You’re so sweet for that.”

Noor goes to set the table. It’s just the placemats and the glasses, so Yahya is a little confused by what’s taking her so long.

He gets his answer a few minutes later when the kitchen door opens. She leans against the fridge.

“Hi loverboy,” she says, and the words have barely left her mouth before they’re both laughing.

He comes over, a hand to her waist enough to shift her ever so slightly, just so he can get the salad out of the fridge. Whilst he doesn’t want it warm, he also doesn’t want it straight from the fridge levels of cold.

“Did you also google nicknames for your husband?” He asks.

She nods.

“I’m not sure I like that it’s boy,” Yahya says.

“Loverman,” Noor teases.

“Oh no. That’s worse.”

“So much worse!”

It’s a comfortable meal. She tells him about the strange things that happened at the law firm, as well as the details of some of the cases she’s involved in researching. A lot of it goes over Yahya’s head, but he’s learnt that she doesn’t necessarily need him to understand. She needs him to take an interest. And he finds it fascinating. Not because he cares about the law- he does, but not in that way. Because she’s invested. He tells her about the things the kids said and the mistakes they made with their titrations. He also confesses that he also hates how precise one needs to be. And then he makes her swear that she will never tell them that if she happens to ever meet them.

“Do you want me to dry or wipe down?” Yahya asks. He cooked, so Noor wouldn’t dream of making him wash up.

“Wipe please. The stuff can dry and get put away tomorrow I think,” she said.

He smiles. “Okay, wifey.”

Noor’s face twists into something Yahya never wants to see again. “Oh god no. As much as I like being your wife, I think I hate wifey.”

“Yeah. As soon as I said it, it felt wrong. Why is this so hard?”

“Let’s just take a break. We’ve got the rest of our lives to work it out.”

It’s a lovely thought.

“I like that,” Yahya says, ducking his head so Noor can’t see how that single statement had his cheeks rising with colour.

“I know you do.” There’s a pause, as though she’s contemplating what to say next. “Cutiepie.”

Yahya pretends he’s going to fling the cloth at her.

He realises a few days later that they haven’t actually been on a date. They’ve been spending time together and existing in the same space, and they’re doing perfectly, but he’s been busy with marking the first set of tests and she’s been helping the new trainee solicitors, so anything more has just simply not been feasible.

So he makes the plans. He tells Noor the day before, having double-checked throughout the week that she had nothing else going on- that he was taking her out. She’s kind enough to pretend to be surprised.

When she comes back from work, a lot earlier than he was expecting, his surprise shows on his face.

“I left early. My actual work was done, so the only thing I would have been doing was supervising the newbies. Someone else can do it,” she says.

It’s something he’s always reminded her about. “Yes, they can.”

“What time did you want to leave?” She asks.

“Seven?”

“Perfect. I’m going to go make myself pretty for you.”

He knows it’s meant as a joke. And if not a joke, then it’s a learned habit from her youth. But she’s helping him unlearn certain things society taught him. He can do the same. “You know I always think you’re beautiful. With or without make-up. It’s in your eyes and your smile and the way you treat me.”

He’s never been good at choosing the right words, and all he can do is hope he’s not said something that’s going to make her think he’s acting like she’s wrong for the way she chooses to present herself.

But she smiles. “I know you do. I- with work it’s different. But when I wear make-up outside of it, it’s because it’s fun. And I think it’ll look nice. I know that if you took me on a date to a fancy restaurant and I didn’t wear any make-up, you wouldn’t be ashamed. Neither would I. But it’s been so long since I got to wear make-up for fun and I want to. You don’t need to worry.”

The thing about Noor is that she always knows what Yahya needs to hear. He pulls her in for a hug, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before he lets her go and get ready.

He’s going through one of the boxes of stuff that is in the spare room to find a particular pair of shoes when she comes in.

“Ta-da!” She says.

He turns, and his face breaks into a wide smile. He’s wearing a formal shirt and trousers because he doesn’t know how to wear anything else, but Noor has pulled one of the shalwar kameez she was given for the wedding out. It’s simple, and it may not have been a big deal for anyone else, but it is for them.

She notices him smiling and twirls until she stumbles slightly. And just as he always will, he steadies her.

“You look more than beautiful, my light.” The words come out without him meaning to let them slip. “I don’t- it’s never meant as a form of ownership. Because I don’t own you. Nobody does. I said it because you’re so bright it’s blinding sometimes. And because you let yourself be mine. In a way that is wonderful because it’s your choice.”

“Yahya. I know. I want you to call me that for the rest of our lives.”

“I will. I promise. So, shall we, my light?” He holds his arm out, and the date goes perfectly. Or, as perfect as life can be.

Her sadness comes from the fact that she doesn’t have something to call him. But like they both know, they have the rest of their times together to find something that fits.

It comes.

Noor’s sat in his lap. She feels comfortable there. Safe and warm and cherished.

Her head rests on his chest. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she can hear his heartbeat. It’s steady and certain. Something feels different though. Not strange and not wrong. But different. When she brings her hand to her own chest, she realises what it is.

“Your heartbeat is synced with mine,” she tells him, looking away from the screen and into his eyes.

“Huh?” Yahya sounds confused.

Noor smiles. “Your heartbeat. It’s synced with mine.”

“That’s cool,” he says.

“It’s because you need to know mine really well. Since you’re the keeper of my heart,” she jokes. And it really was meant to just be a teasing remark. But Yahya bites his lip in an attempt to stop a full smile from breaking out across his face, and his cheeks go slightly warm.

And Noor knows.

“My heart,” she whispers. “That’s it.”

Yahya nods. He tilts her chin up to kiss her. “My light.”

Their heartrates stop syncing as Noor’s starts racing.

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

21: ONE DAY

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead. w/c: 3.1k a/n: drew and addie are back again after two years! hope you guys are ready for a rollercoaster. read on wattpad previous part | series masterlist

‘...and believe it or not, Patty marches out of her office straight to Wes and the guy, and tells him that the company has zero tolerance for homophobia or any similar behaviour. She then proceeds to tell him to fuck off, all in very polite business talk, and the guy says something about her regretting it but she’s just staring at him.’

  ‘Did he do anything?’

  Addie shakes her head. ‘There’s nothing he could’ve done. When Patty McLellan decides she doesn’t want you around, you’re done. She’s got enough clients on the waiting list that she doesn’t need to worry about rejecting one.’ She stirs the drink in her hand and takes a sip. ‘Anyway, Wes thanks her, and she just goes away, and nobody really knew what to say.’

  ‘She sounds like a good boss,’ Drew says. His presses the paper cup to his lips and grimaces, huffing at the temperature.

  ‘She’s a terrible boss,’ Addie corrects. ‘She doesn’t tolerate homophobia, sure, but it’s not like there’s much she does tolerate.’ She thinks about the terms of her NDA—a 40-page contract outlining precisely what they are and aren’t allowed to disclose and to whom—but this should be okay. ‘One time, Marea was running late with a document they needed in court, which didn’t end up impacting Patty’s case whatsoever, but she still almost got Marea fired. I’m just lucky she’s not my supervisor anymore.’

  Drew shrugs. ‘She still stuck up for Wes. Some people would choose the client.’

  She shoots him a look. He doesn’t know enough about Patty’s talent at making a person’s life a living hell. In a way, though, he is right – and Addie doesn’t like that she has to give consideration to a person like Patty. 

  Besides, he’s got that knowing smile on his face, and Addie can’t really disagree with that.

  When Drew texted her earlier in the day, all but demanding her to spend some time with him before they both leave Atlanta for the holidays, she kind of figured it was a ploy to get her out of the house. She’s fairly convinced Marianne’s had a hand in encouraging him because she was very insistent on Addie taking the whole morning to herself, too, including doing her hair routine and wearing it natural, even with the incoming weather. Not like it matters much – she’s missed hanging out with Drew and really, she needed to leave the flat for something other than work, groceries, or class.

  Even if the first thing he said to her when she walked into Waystone was that ‘this is the last step before an intervention.’

  He got her the coffee as a thanks for making the time to see him and Addie joked it was the right time. There’s a forecast of heavy snowfall due to hit Atlanta later this evening, meaning she’d be stuck in her flat for a little while longer, because doing anything while it’s freezing and snowing outside is not an option.

  ‘This is why you need to do the bad thing,’ he said to her as they braced for the cold outside the coffee shop. ‘Be a bad intern and a bad student and take some time off for your own sake.’

  Now, they’re a few blocks away from Waystone, and the sky is looking greyer by the minute. They’re just outside the park with the ruined fountain, as they’ve made a habit of doing, and Drew is telling her stories about his own badass bosses, none of whom would’ve lasted a day in the corporate world, but Addie keeps that to herself. It’s a far cry from the first time they went on a walk to this place – aside from replacing summer dresses and short sleeves with jackets and scarves, Addie still holds onto the coffee like a lifeline, but this time it is because of the cold rather than the nerves from being around Drew.

  Drew, who pauses mid-sentence to ask if she’s listening. 

  ‘Sorry,’ she says, finding herself smiling at a cute toddler waddling by while a woman behind him pushes the empty stroller. ‘I’m just thinking about how glad I am that you dragged me out.’

  ‘Ah, well. Can’t have my friend drowning herself in things she actually needs to do, right?’

  She squints at him. He’s still smiling, but there is something behind those eyes. Addie crosses her arms on her chest. ‘Did Marianne put you up to this?’

  Drew shrugs. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  The grin breaks through. ‘She might’ve texted asking if I was in town, but the rest was all me.’ He pauses and gives her a nudge. ‘Feels like we haven’t talked in ages.’

  ‘I know, I’m—’

  ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘I am sorry, though.’ She swirls the coffee inside her cup, feeling just how little she has left, and how quickly it’s getting cold. ‘Sometimes I ghost people for a few weeks when things get a little tough. It’s kind of my bad habit. I didn’t mean to.’

  He nudges her again, calling her name until she looks at him. ‘You don’t need to worry about that with me. I get it. You’ve got your priorities straight.’

  ‘It’s not an excuse to ignore you.’

  ‘No, but it happens. I’m sure things will be easier once you’re not overworking yourself every moment of the day.’

  All Addie can say is thanks. She rests against the back of the bench, finishing her coffee.

  Part of her wants to talk about this habit of hers with Drew, explain herself, let him know how much she hates that she forgets to respond to texts or have meaningful conversations or even check up on her friends, but she doesn’t. It’s not something she really wants to talk about. Just talking won’t solve anything.

  Addie promises herself she’s going to do better. Even if Drew doesn’t say it, she knows he’s not happy about her disappearing on him like that. Hell, she wouldn’t be either, if she were in his shoes, which is what hurt the most. 

  There’s another nudge. Drew’s looking at her, fully focused. ‘Is it the internship? Your degree? Something else?’

  Addie sighs. ‘All of it.’

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Distract me.’

  So he does.

  They spend the next fifteen minutes on the bench, as she listens to Drew talk about deciding that maybe it’s time he got back into theatre. He hasn’t spoken about it much before and it’s something fresh, something new – something easy to focus on. She likes the way he starts to talk more with his hands when he talks about acting, too. Even if some days, she forgets that this hobby of his is, in fact, his career.

  Drew’s biggest issue is, it turns out, that the plays he wants to do are either already in production, or they’re not going to be in production for another few months. One of the guys who was in Drew’s first-ever production in Atlanta, all those years ago, is writing his own play. It seems that the idea has captivated Drew, even if Addie catches less than half of what it is about, but the play is nowhere near finished and won’t be for a while. 

  ‘It’s hard to picture you on stage,’ Addie tells him.

  ‘Because you’ve only ever seen me on TV.’

  ‘Eh,’ she says, ‘I can’t picture you on TV either, anymore. It would be weird.’

  He laughs. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Oh, come on. You know that’s not how I meant it.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he says, smiling. ‘Hopefully you’ll see me on stage one day, and you’ll probably prefer that to the small screen.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  Addie feels herself smiling as she thinks about it – about Drew on a stage, performing his heart out, and her getting to see him in his element. She’d be proud, she knows that, and she’d be delighted to experience just how good her friend is at doing what he does best. Something about that makes her heart swell.

  Drew looks away, and leans back, too, and she knows he’s finished talking.

  The silence is nice. It’s not really silence – there’s the noise of kids ushering their parents to go home to change before the snow falls, and parents telling kids they need to get inside before the snow falls. It’s chaotic and lively and Addie realises she needed this little reminder of the rest of the world.

  Even the feeling of the impending doom feels like it’s staying at an arm’s length. In the background of her mind, the thoughts keep running and she’s worried about extending her six-month internship contract to a year-long one, as most interns have it; about finding a job after she’s done with her degree; about the college assignments she needs to be looking into; about her sister sending out her own college applications… All of this is going on as their flat is one ticking little time bomb, with Marianne going through hell and back with Tom on what feels like a daily basis, while Tom’s words about Holden and Addie are still in the back of her mind.

  She wants to thank Drew for getting her mind out of the gutter, even if for just a little while. Instead, she nudges Drew with her shoulder, the brush barely tangible through layers of fabric, and says: ‘One day, I’ll have a Master’s degree and a big girl job, and you will be performing the best play of your life.’

  He nods at her, smiling right back. ‘One day.’

  She doesn’t open up, not about the things that really matter—because those are the hardest to talk about—but she tells him about Marianne and Tom. Drew listens intently as she talks about their decision to go to Tom’s family for Christmas, and he gets a little line in the middle of his forehead at the news. He looks a lot like he’s filming a commercial for the stores that sell skiing equipment, with one of his arms resting on the back of the bench, the other in his lap, and his legs outstretched with leather boots fully on show. 

  She likes that he listens. He doesn’t judge, unlike her, and he seems to think that there is some point to Marianne meeting Tom’s parents – it has been well over a year since they started dating, and maybe the rough patch can be fixed with a change of scenery, or something to shake things up. 

  Addie isn’t too sure. ‘I’m glad you agree with Marianne, though. I’d rather be wrong than right, at least about just.’

  ‘Just about this,’ teases Drew, and she huffs at him. ‘Nobody likes being wrong.’

  ‘Right,’ she says. The clouds are gathering above them and he notes that there could be snow soon, and she hears excitement in his voice. ‘How’ve you been? Aside from looking into doing plays again, obviously.’

  Drew sighs, tapping his fingers on his thigh. ‘Busy. Austin and I have just been doing tapes, feels like, but not much luck so far. I heard back from one thing and I’ve got an audition in LA before I go home for the holidays, but that’s all.’

  ‘That’s great! What is it for?’

  ‘A movie.’

  Addie lets out a wolf whistle. ‘Anything you can share?’

  He grimaces and she already knows the answer, but she pushes forward, and he relents, even if just a little bit. ‘It’s got some big names attached to it, which isn’t a guarantee that they’ll stay attached, but it’d be a nice one to do.’

  ‘Is it big one?’

  ��Could be.’

  ‘Nice,’ she says, and means it. ‘You deserve a big one.’

  She taps his thigh and he chuckles, just a little. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking about, looking at her with a sheepish smile on his face, but she knows what she is thinking about – Drew on the red carpet, cameras flashing, and knowing that her friend has made it.

  It’s a nice thought to have.

  In front of them, leaves begin to rustle; Addie watches them move, bit by bit, until they’ve picked up enough speed to go into the air, swirling around. Some of them land on her hair and she plucks them out with Drew’s help, laughing as they do so. 

  Drew looks up. ‘We should probably get moving. The weather’s starting to change.’

  ’You’ve got some weather detector on you?’ Addie looks up, too, but the clouds look all the same to her. 

  ‘No.’ He stands up smiling. ‘I just know Atlanta.’

  Despite the weather, they take the scenic route to her flat. She’s watching kids run around with parents yelling at them to slow down, to watch for the cars, to just wait a minute – all while they’re looking up at the sky waiting for it to come down. Drew notices it, too, and tells her a story from when he was a kid, sledding down a hill with his sisters. 

  ‘We need to go sledding someday,’ he says. ‘I think you’d love it.’

  ‘I’m more of a skier myself.’

  ‘Really?’

  Addie laughs. ‘No. I haven’t been skiing even once.’

  ‘You should give it a try,’ Drew says. ‘It’s fun.’

  ‘I’ll leave that in your hands, then.’

  They walk past one of the buildings not too far from where Grubson Law is located, and Addie knows the area like the back of her hand, even if Drew’s the one in charge. She waits to see if they’ll walk past her favourite building and they do – and she tells him to stop, just for a minute, while she fishes her phone out of her pocket.

  She brings it up, opens the camera, and does her best to capture exactly what she’s seeing. It takes some fiddling with the settings, the lighting, the angles, but she gets there in the end. 

  ‘Think I got a good one,’ she says, and lets Drew lean over her shoulder to look at the phone.

  In the picture, Drew is shown from the back, midway through a step. He’s looking to his left, where the building is made of glass that reflects at this time of the day, and the looming clouds are captured in the reflection over the park where Addie sometimes takes her break with Nadia. She’s lowered the saturation enough that the background isn’t in the focus, but Drew’s face is sharp – the gloom of the sky makes him appear deep in thought, rather than just waiting for her to do her thing. There’s something surreal about the photo, about the colours, and Addie feels pride bubbling in her chest as that was the very thing she saw in the moment. It’s only through sheer luck that in real life, in the reflection of the window as he looked at her, he looked a little bit like a dream – and on the photo, he looks every bit like the dream she saw.

  She sees him smile, and figures he’s probably thinking the same thing, except he says: ‘It looks like an ad for the jacket you’d find in GQ.’

  Addie chuckles and forwards the photo to him. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

  ‘Good, because it was one.’ He opens the photo on his phone and looks at it again. ‘You’ve really got a knack for this photography thing, you know.’

  Their walk finally starts taking them towards Addie’s flat. They’re in the neighbourhood, now, and Addie is filled with a sense of calm. These are the streets she knows, the windows that always have the same plants and candles on the windowsills, the balconies with the same chairs outside – even if the chairs are now adorned with thick blankets, preparing for the winter.

  It feels like coming home.

  ‘Thanks for this,’ she says, giving Drew a little nudge. ‘I needed it more than I realised.’

  ‘That’s what friends are for, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘For making you do bad things.’

  Addie squints at him. ‘You’re making it sound like you made me commit a crime.’

  ‘I made you relax for a day,’ he says as they turn into her street. ‘Isn’t that a crime for a workaholic?’

  She bumps him in the shoulder and he yelps, but they’re laughing before the charade is over. He tells her he’s glad to see him and she assures him it works both ways. They try to figure out when they’ll see each other next, only to be thrown away by the busyness of their very-adult schedules, and it’s all left up in the air. 

  But there’s a promise of a next time, as there always is.

  He walks her to her building and she thinks about inviting him in, but knows that somewhere in there is a Marianne in hiding, frantically rummaging through her belongings to find the right clothes to take to England for Christmas. She doesn’t think Drew needs to be exposed to that. 

  This is exactly what she says to him, and it makes him laugh. ‘That’s fine. I need to get going, anyway. Got stuff to do.’

  ‘Plays to look into,’ she says.

  Drew winks at her. ‘You don’t know half the stuff I’m up to, Addison.’

  ‘Cheeky,’ she says, then opens her door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

  He’s still there when the door closes. Addie makes her way up to her flat and rightfully so, it looks like something exploded. A trail of Marianne’s belongings leads from her room to the bathroom, and some wet stuff looks like they’ve been dragged out of the washing machine. She can hear Marianne being on the phone to someone in her room and for once, as much as she loves the girl, she’s glad there’s someone else for her to expel her stress to. 

  The flat’s nice and cosy, and the clouds look brighter now. Addie walks closer to the window in the living room – only to realise it’s not the clouds that look white. 

  She looks down, to see if it’s starting to catch, and catches Drew looking at her, instead. He grins and spreads his arms, sticking his tongue out to catch a snowflake. Addie laughs and his grin widens, and he twirls around, just like the kids they’d seen earlier, waiting for the snow.

  He looks happy. And he looks at her, too, and a part of her wishes she was down there, with him. She considers it for a moment—

  She resists, though, and watches him give her a two-finger salute instead. Maybe one day, she won’t have this much work to do, and she’ll be able to enjoy the snow like he does, with him. 

  Addie goes back to her work a fair bit more motivated than before, and later that night, dreams of fields of white, and a reflection of a boy smiling at her. 

◇

22: BETWEEN THE LINES

most people on the taglist have left/changed their urls, so lmk if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

[gladoswantscake]

Bearer of Bad News || David Mason

Warnings: Spoilers after the mission Suffer With Me

A/N: Holy heck it’s been a year since I properly wrote a oneshot or wrote anything (besides the very short bo2 headcanons). No joke, but I believe I’ve had this oneshot in my drafts for over a year 💀 but it’s about time that I finish it up and post it. My mental health hasn’t been well for the past several months. I’ve been dealing with some serious stuff from my last relationship, but I’m getting the help that I need. I hope things will get much better from here on out. Anyways, enjoy.

Available on Wattpad // AO3

Another night all by yourself. It’s been a while since you and David spent the night together. The two of you kept tabs on each other every evening. The phone calls would last longer than twenty minutes. There was always something new to talk about from David while your life was the same since he left. David encouraged you to go out more often rather keeping the same work and then home routine everyday.

“I worry about you, David.” You sit on your bed with your phone to your ear. “I worry that one day you won’t return home.”

“There’s no need to worry about that ever happening.” He pauses. “There’s been one thing that’s been on my mind for a while... Do you remember how you always talked about wanting to start a family?” David’s voice grows with excitement.

With David being away from home most of the time, the two of you agreed to wait awhile until the time was right. A large grin appears on your face as you nod in response to his question. “I remember.” 

"Well after this mission, I plan to settle down with you.”

“That’s great. I’m happy to hear that and happy to know that I’ll be seeing you more often.”

“And I can’t wait to run my hands all over that lavish body of yours.” He chuckles lightly. “Anyways, I got some good news. I’ll be able to come home tomorrow for a few days.”

“Tomorrow? I haven’t cleaned or done anything yet! I mean I’m really happy, but the house is a mess.”

“I understand that, but it can’t be too bad, right?”

You glance around messy bedroom. It was messier on your side than David’s. “All that I’ve been doing is working and going straight home. I haven’t really had the time to do much since I have hardly any energy at the end of the day.”

“No need to worry about it. Besides I was planning on taking you out once I get back in town. You decide which ever nice restaurant you want to go to. Or if you don’t want to go anywhere, we can stay home. Tomorrow night will be all about you.”

The thought of you dressing up and going out into town made you feel like life was worth something to look forward to once again. “I’ll decide on something once when you get back.”

“Sounds good. Go get some rest now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

(The next day)

The dreadful heat wave finally died off in the late June summer evening. You just finished deep cleaning the whole house to prepare for David’s return home after being away for several months. 

Anytime he’ll be back. You killed some time by jumping into the shower and taking your time to clean yourself up and put some comfy clothes on and waited for his arrival.

Some time has passed now. Whatever was on TV made you grow bored and impatient. It must be the traffic. You checked the time on your phone: 9:57 p.m. You sent him a short text to check up on him. As much as you don’t like attempting to make phone calls or message him while he’s on the road, you worried. It’s been months since you’ve last saw each other, and he was only going to be in town for a few days.

The message you sent was read by him. A wave of relief. Then a message popped up.

“I won’t be home for another 20 minutes. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Love you.” The text read.

The amount of cleaning and rearranging the house all day made it impossible for you to stay awake any longer. You turned off the TV and made your way to the bedroom. Not long after you laid in bed, the sound of a car engine grew louder from outside. He was finally home.

Soft footsteps made its way towards the bedroom and a quiet creaking sound of the bedroom door opening. The bed sinks from the opposite side of you and a hand lays on your shoulder.

“Are you awake?” The quiet voice made you open your eyes. You slowly shifted your body over to see David leaning over you. His hand moves to your hair and his thumb strokes your forehead.

“I am now.” You respond with a tired smile. “I’d thought that you’d be here earlier.”

“I would have,” He leans in to give you a kiss. “But something got in the way.” He sighs, standing up to remove his jacket. “I went to go visit Woods today before I left.”

“Everything went well between the two of you?” You sat up to watch him put his handgun in his nightstand drawer.

David slowly closes the drawer. “For the most part.” He looks at you. You could make out that his mood changed by the look of his downhearted face in the dark bedroom. For as long as you’ve known David, he wasn’t the best at lying, but he was good at hiding his emotions from you. This time, he didn’t bother hiding them.

“Did something happen today, David? You seem upset.”

He shook his head. “I’m not upset. It’s just... been a long day is all.” He gives you a reassuring smile in attempt to mask his sadness.

You didn’t buy his excuse. “I know you’re not okay.” You get out of bed and walk over to him. Your hands reach his face, pulling his face to look at you. His eyes were glistening. He wanted to speak but it looked like he was going to break down any second. “What happened?” You ask.

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand. Every word that came out of his mouth as he tried to speak was choked sobs, but you managed to catch was Woods and killed him. You’ve never seen him like this ever.

As soon as you ushered him to the bed he broke down, digging his face into your stomach as he latched onto your waist. “There’s no need to say anything right now. Just let it all out and tell me later.” Your hands run across his clothed back and up to his head to let your fingers run through his hair.

It felt like so much time has passed after he broke down. “David?” His head perks up revealing his nose and eyes were sore from his weeping. You frown at his broken state. Hands cradle his face as your thumbs wipe away the remaining tears. “Go get cleaned up and then we’ll talk.” He nodded in reply.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, your Uncle Frank killed your father?” Your arms were wrapped around David’s exhausted body as his head rested on your sternum. A hand runs through his short brown hair.

“It was an accident. He thought it was Menendez. He broke the news today.” He pauses. I’m sorry you waited for me to come back in a mess.”

Your finger hooks underneath his chin, forcing him to look up at you. “Don’t ever say that again, David. It’ll be a mess if you don’t come back home. So, promise me that you’ll come back in one piece?”

You earned a smile from your lover. “It’s a promise.”

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

If You Want It to Be Good Girl (Get Yourself a Bad Boy) (1.4) ~ 12k

Music flooded through Roxanne’s headphones as her band performed their second single “City is Ours” in Studio A, newly written by their producer. Sitting in between Kelly and Gustavo in the room with the soundboard, she felt very different vibes radiating off the pair as they watched the performance. 

Earlier in the day, they had come into Rocque Records and were immediately put to work. The band was dragged off into the practice room by Mr. X to teach them new choreography for the song’s dance routine, and their assistant had been dragged off and placed in the recording booth in order to track the guitar parts that would be layered into the song after the boys recorded vocals. 

Though it had taken her a couple of takes to get the music exactly the way Gustavo had envisioned it, she was happy that she had a chance to use her new electric guitar. The music sounded great and Roxy couldn’t wait for every part to come together; she was most looking forward to the prospect of helping mix the new song. No matter how they felt during the writing process, the end result was always rewarding.

Kelly was bobbing her head along to the beat as she watched the boys dance through the glass. Each one of the band members had a bright smile on their face as they performed the dance routine, only stumbling at a few steps in the beginning while they found the tempo. Down the aisle from her, Gustavo had a stern look on his face as he watched, arms crossed. The dark sunglasses on his face were hindering her ability to decipher his feelings towards the performance. 

Roxy hadn’t made up her mind on whether or not she liked the song. The music was enjoyable to play and she loved the harder rock sound instead of straight pop, yet the lyrics felt slightly cheesy - but every boy band needs party songs. Her favorite part was the pre-chorus; it gave her the pre-concert jitters and she loved the reference to the band name. In a perfect world, she wished Gustavo had consulted her during the songwriting process, but was understanding that this was a new experience for him, too. They would be on that level someday, just not today. 

Someday, we will work it out, she thought, absentmindedly writing that down in her notebook as the performance continued.

When the boys finished, they stood in front of their microphones, chests heaving as they attempted to catch their breath while their boss silently stared on. Despite the end of the performance, he still sat deep in thought, arms crossed, as if he were trying to figure something out.

“Woo!” Logan cheered, throwing his hands up in the air - proceeding to smack Carlos right in the face, sending the shorter boy tumbling to the floor. 

Rushing into the studio with water and towels, the assistant gave the boys quiet praise for their work while Gustavo entered the studio with them a few seconds later. 

Kendall was the first to speak. “Gustavo, this song is great.”

His boss looked unamused, “Of course it’s great, I wrote it.”

At the sheer confidence behind the man’s words, Roxy and Kelly rolled their eyes, causing each other to giggle at their similar reactions. 

“But the band isn’t great. What’s missing is the secret rock and roll ingredient,” Gustavo continued, walking down the line of boys to look them each in the eye as he spoke. 

“Hair mousse!” James replied, very confident. 

“Chocolate mousse!” Came from Carlos, even more confident. 

Interestingly, Logan had a worried look on his face. “Spandex? Please don’t say spandex.” 

“A bad boy, like Billie Joe Armstrong?” Roxy asked, half joking, half day-dreaming about one of her friends dressed like the famous singer. Very rock and roll. 

Everyone turned to look at her. 

“I’m not going to apologize,” she affirmed, crossing her arms. “He’s super hot.”  

Gustavo blinked before clapping his arm around Logan’s shoulder, “Anyway. Yes, I was going to say we need a bad boy. The ill-tempered rebel with a flair for synchronized dance,” He moved in between Carlos and James, “One of you has to be it.” 

James looked very pleased with Gustavo’s speech, puffing out his chest and pointing his thumbs inward - very eager to take on the position. He winked at the still day-dreaming girl as she looked over to where their boss was standing. 

“I say it’s Kendall,” Gustavo stated as the frontman turned to him with wide eyes. 

That’s it. He’s officially lost his mind. Kendall will never go for it… even if he would look really good in eyeliner.

The blond’s objection was immediate. “Why do we need a bad boy?”

Gustavo snapped his fingers, and Kelly held up her phone to reveal her voicemail inbox. Pressing down on the play button, a message from Griffin rang through the studio.

“The band needs a bad boy. Bye.”

“Best idea he's had yet…” The assistant trailed off, thinking about her friends in tight, black clothing. 

It was hard to keep her thoughts as Kendall glared at her. 

Adjusting his sunglasses, Gustavo complained about how Griffin had been harassing him with new ideas for the past few days. “He’s driving me crazy! But, he’s also right, because the bad boy is a rock and roll tradition. Follow me.”

With a wave, the team followed him out into the halls of Rocque Records. It was time for a boy band history lesson via the decorations plastered over the walls. The first poster they happened upon was a poster of the band Boyquake that Roxy had hanging on her bedroom wall. It featured the four members in different work uniforms on different sides of a crack in the Earth with a proud slogan reading “8.0 on the ROCKter scale!”. She had always found the tagline amusing. 

“Notice the back turned to the rest of the band,” Gustavo pointed to the man on the far left dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit and bandana, who did indeed have his back turned to the others. As he pointed that out, the rest of the band members were facing towards the camera, pretending to do tasks aligned with their costumes. “Bad boy.” 

Across the hall, the producer showed off a poster for the band Boy Blast. Another group with four members, one clearly sticking out from the rest of his peers, dressed in all black clothing opposed to his bandmates who were dressed in a slightly more colorful manor. “The back turned, the dark clothing, the scowl,” the man listed. “Bad boy.”

Awful band name. Just terrible. 

“But there can only be one bad boy per group,” Kelly raised a very important fact. “As learned from the bad boys experiment of ‘95.” 

Taking down the Boy Blast poster revealed an old one hanging underneath for a band called Bad Boyz. Four band members all clad in black and various ugly pieces of chain jewelry had their backs turned to the camera. The bottom read “Back 2 U, Girl” which the assistant could guess was the name of their first and only single. 

“Didn’t sell a single CD.” Gustavo mused. 

“But we’re best friends,” Kendall butted in, “We never turn our backs on each other.” 

The rest of the boys agreed with him, making claims that such a thing would never happen and Roxy admired their tenacity. Clearly, they were unaware of the perks of being a bad boy. Though she knew her words wouldn’t sway Kendall, she could probably get through to the other three. 

“You know, the bad boy is always the most popular member of the band, makes the most money, and dates the hottest models.” 

Kendall lightly smacked her arm, “You’re not helping.”

“It’s tradition!” She protested. “Who are we to break it?” 

Correct that her words would not reach the frontman, she watched in amusement as the remaining band members tripped over each other, pushing their way to Gustavo, shouting about how bad they could be. It was certainly a sight to see, even if it was annoying Kendall. 

It was clear their boss was already fed up with the three trying to outdo each other and prove they were bad boy material, so he granted the teens a half day off so they could “perfect their acts.”

Once they made it back to the Palm Woods, James shed his outer button up in favor of a black tank top and a dark pair of sunglasses. Roxy was sure to take note of how great the top made his arms look. 

It’s for marketing purposes, she told herself. 

Logan had unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt and found a pair of shades as well - a look Camille would definitely drool over. Adjusting his walk, the boy made it look like he was slightly hobbling, as he rolled up his sleeves in an attempt to prove his nerdy sense of style had truly been traded for his new aesthetic. 

The third boy had just copied the other two, in a combination of dark glasses, a tank top, and a new sense of pride at his typical sweetness turning sour. 

Filing into 2-J, the new bad boys harassed Mama Knight, thinking it would show some type of bad boy prowess. They hadn’t yet realized the bad boy of the band was just a character or stage persona displayed by one member, not a lifestyle change. 

“See what you’ve done? They’re terrorizing my mother!” Kendall whispered to her, entering the apartment. 

From across the way, Roxy witnessed Carlos moon the pool from their large window, noting, “And all the people downstairs.” 

Mrs. Knight gave the pair the “what is happening to me right now?” look as her son stepped in to explain. 

“Gustavo, and Rox,” he craned his neck to glare down at his assistant, “say one of us has to be a bad boy.” 

“Like Tommy Lee,” the writer added, praying she didn’t accidentally imply Mrs. Knight was far older than she actually was by picking a bad boy from a more classic band. 

The woman considered the writer's comment before saying, “But you’re all such nice boys,” with a loving smile. Then, her face shifted to pure terror as she remembered something, grabbing Kendall by the shoulders. “Oh! I am so glad you’re here. There’s an axe maniac on the loose!”

From beside the breakfast bar, Katie grabbed the teen’s attention and pointed to a hastily written sign reading “NO there’s NOT!” while his mother’s grip tightened. 

Definitely need some backstory for this one.

“Oh,” Kendall said uncertainly, gaze shifting to his sister who waved the signed around some more. “Well, we’ll be extra careful then, Mom.”

Roxy nodded her head in agreement as Mrs. Knight’s worried look resided. “We promise.” 

Giving a relieved sigh, Katie looked at her brother and gave him a thumbs up before scrambling out of the room. The pair of teens exchanged shrugs at the little girl’s antics. Whatever she was planning, she most likely had a good handle on.

“We want pizza, now!” Came from the otherside of the room. Roxy peeked around Mrs. Knight to see the bad boy trio lined up, doing their best to intimidate her.

“Idiots,” she hissed, loud enough to elicit a laugh from the blond beside her. 

All the woman had to do was turn around and cross her arms before the three were immediately apologizing for how rude they had been to their stage mother. 

***

After their break, Team BTR returned to work, and the trio of wannabes headed straight to the wardrobe department in order to complete their looks with black, worn-out clothing. Kelly had messaged the assistant letting her know that they would be holding auditions for the bad boy of Big Time Rush, getting the band on edge about who would be chosen. 

With their final looks the three made their way as quickly as possible to the hall outside of Gustavo’s office, with Kendall and Roxy following behind. 

“I still think this is a terrible idea. They look ridiculous,” the frontman reaffirmed, motioning to his friends in their new outfits.

She rolled her eyes. “This is the third time you’ve told me today. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble if you stepped up like Gustavo suggested.” 

“I don't have a bad bone in my body!” 

“You’ve done nothing but get on his nerves the whole two weeks we’ve lived here,” she reminded him as she sat down in a white lounge chair to watch the auditions in very close proximity to the table their bosses were currently sitting at to judge the talent. “Wait-” 

Grabbing her songbook from her bag, she began to scribble something down. 

Kendall sat beside her on the armrest. “Song idea?” 

The girl shook her head and continued writing. 

I think we might be able to convince Gustavo that your defiance of his every word is technically considered bad. 

Holding the book up, she showed him her note before he grabbed the pad and replied. 

No!

Roxy scowled in acknowledgment, but was unable to continue their conversation as the other boys made their way down the hallway to audition. There was no question her other friends were about to make giant fools of themselves, and she didn’t want to miss it simply because she was arguing with Kendall. It was almost like she was living on a terrible reality TV show these days and she was loving every second of it. 

To begin, Carlos attempted to break a wooden board over his forehead and proceeded to knock himself out despite wearing his hockey helmet. James was next. The rap he had prepared to prove his badness would’ve been terrible on its own, but in combination with the shiny grill he had gotten made it impossible to get any words out properly - leaving Roxy in shambles as she laughed so hard she could hardly breathe. The tall boy was less than pleased to see her giggling as he claimed the other arm of the chair to sit down. Finally, it was Logan’s turn, and that went over as well as she imagined it would. 

Roxy leaned to her right, into Kendall, and whispered, “You’re the bad boy now.” 

“What? No, I’m not-” 

Gustavo interrupted him, “So, Kendall is the bad boy. You’re going to need to start wearing black clothing and talking deeper and slower.” 

The man began to walk away, thinking the conversation was over.

Nice.

“You mean be fake? I can’t.”

Their boss stopped in his tracks. 

The blond continued, “Besides, I’m terrible at faking.” 

His bandmates nodded in agreement.

“No,” Gustavo pointed to his talent scout, “Kelly is terrible at faking. I can always tell when she lies to me.”

Everyone watched as the woman let out a huffy breath, covering her true emotions with a smile. “I have never… lied… to you.” 

It was very clear Kelly meant exactly the opposite as Gustavo doubled down, “See?”

“Gustavo, we just don’t want anything to be fake about our band,” affirmed Kendall. 

The stare he gave through his red-tinted glasses made Roxy wish she could sink into the leather chair and stay there forever. 

“Your band? This is my band!” Their producer yelled. The man stepped forward towards the chair. “Are you telling me that you’re gonna ignore me and Griffin and the record company and not be our bad boy?” 

Before he could answer Roxy coughed into her hand and dropped her book on the floor to remind the boy of her new plan. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Kendall finished. 

“Bad boy!” The girl interjected, pointing at the frontman as he threw his arms up in frustration.  Since the conversation about the band’s bad boy, they had made no decisions that everyone could agree on. 

Their bosses were less than pleased. “Get Griffin over here.” Gustavo barked at Kelly. 

20 minutes later the company CEO and his team of black-suited marketing experts had lined the band up in Studio B. Roxy anxiously stood next to Kelly, watching as Griffin scrutinized the boys. Their assistant had begged them to take off their ridiculous costumes in order to see the man and for once they listened to her without any complaining. They didn’t seem to like their version of the bad boy persona all that much either. 

“Why isn’t his back turned to the rest of them?” The white-haired man addressed his subordinate, pointing over to Kendall.

“Because he won’t do as I say!” Gustavo yelled. 

Hopping in, the assistant added, “Which makes him the bad boy.”

Knowing he was losing this battle, Kendall held his hands up in a shrugging motion. “And, I don’t turn my back on my friends.”

The CEO slowly walked forward, his black loafers amplifying his footsteps as the air in the studio thickened. 

“That’s good. I respect that,” Griffin said and Roxanne let out an audible sigh. Then he continued, “but I said I wanted bad.”

“You want bad?” James mumbled, putting his grill back in. 

Logan was quick to follow his lead, pulling out his sunglasses, and Carlos attempted to break another board over his head like his audition, falling to the floor unconscious. Once he hit the floor with a thud, the other two were quick to drop their bad boy acts.

Their assistant stepped over to Carlos and kicked the pieces of wood to the side, kneeling down to try and wake him up to no avail.

Griffin ignored this. “A bad boy is someone parents would never let their daughters date. Miss Somerset, would you date any of these boys to make your parents upset?” 

Roxy blinked, looking up at the man from the floor. “I think my dad would prefer to lock me in a tower than let me anywhere near them - bad boy or not.”

“I would let my daughter date any one of these boys,” the CEO stated matter-of-factly, causing the band to wag their eyebrows at their assistant. “Which is bad.” Their faces fell. “Do something about this, or I will.”

“Kendall!” Roxy hissed. “Just tell him you’ll be the bad boy and we can work something out from there.” 

Waves of worry radiated off of her, but it was something the boy didn’t pick up on as he shook his head. The writer stood up, placing herself beside Logan, hoping the band would get it together under Griffin’s warning. 

“Oh, wait! I already did!” The CEO smiled. “Say hello to WayneWayne.”

A short man clad in a black and gold tracksuit burst into the room, pushing past Gustavo and Kelly with a “What, what?”, and landing himself right in front of the boys. Upon further examination, his dark glasses and black sole patch stubble gave Roxy a bad vibe as he broke out into a rap. 

“Yo, yo, I’m WayneWayne from the mean streets of Detroit. I’m bad-bad as my bling-bling and its rapping grooves I exploit.”

Finishing with a cross-spin pose, WayneWayne placed his arms over his chest as he hugged his sides and looked toward Griffin for approval. 

Oof. Songwriting is going to need a lot of help.

Instead of praise, the white-haired man pointed to one of his team members, “Give him the contract!” 

Roxy watched as Gustavo was smacked in the gut by a contract far thicker than any of her band’s members received. In defense, she stepped a little closer to Logan. 

“Isn’t he bad?” Griffin addressed the room.

“Bad,” Roxy accidentally replied, deadpan. Her bosses looked over to her as the CEO turned around to challenge her. “But, uh, good. I guess.” She covered terribly with a smile and a nervous laugh. 

Gustavo made a ‘stop’ motion with his hand, staring at her. Stepping closer to Logan, practically hidden behind him, she mumbled an apology. 

This is going to be terrible.

“Ah, well I’ve got to be going,” Griffin stated, turning to the band’s newest member. “WayneWayne, blow it up.” 

“Later later, Griff-Griff.” 

The two exchanged an explosive fist bump before the man left the room. 

“That’s just weird,” Roxy whispered to her friends, shuttering. 

Apparently, the boy heard her, and whipped around to face Big Time Rush.

Attempting to be kind about their strange situation, James extended a hand in greeting, “Yo, WayneWayne, I’m -”

The rapper slapped his fist away with a crack. “Wasting your time-time.” 

This time, instead of hiding behind her friend, the assistant stepped up to face the newcomer. “What the hell was that? He was just trying to introduce himself.” 

Though his glasses were dark she could feel the boy staring at her with little beady eyes. “Look, I ain’t here to make friends, okay? But I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, baby.”

WayneWayne reached out to touch Roxy’s shoulder, which she quickly side-stepped, a crooked smile forming on his lips. Feeling her skin crawl at the sight, she hoped he’d get the hint and leave her alone.

Why he thinks a 16-year-old would be into a soul patch, I have no idea.

“That’s fine-fine, be like that. Just don’t you forget, I’m here to take Big Time Rush to the next level.” He finally moved out from in front of the assistant, pacing up and down the band’s formed line, getting in each of the guy’s faces to emphasize his point. “The WayneWayne Express is leaving the station. So you fools step on, or step off.” The boy stepped back, showing off his blinged-out ‘W’ rings on each hand. “WayneWayne out-out.”

As he left, he pushed past Kelly and Gustavo once again, interrupting their viewing of the contract.

“What a loser-loser,” Roxy began, not caring if he was within earshot or not. Whatever kept him away from her the better.

“We don’t like him,” The band chorused, hoping their boss would be able to fix their messy situation.

Gustavo shut the contract he had been examining for the last few minutes. “Yes, you do. You all do.” His eyes shot to Roxy. 

At the same time, the girl felt something shuffle on her right as Carlos popped up, a ditzy expression on his face. 

Continuing, Gustavo sighed. “He’s the bad boy, and he’s staying at the Palm Woods.”

The writer swore under her breath. Can’t I have a moment of peace back home?

“So,” their boss continued, “be good kids and make friend-friends with WayneWayne.”

Carlos tapped Roxy’s shoulder, “Who’s WayneWayne?” 

***

The gentle lapping of the Palm Woods pool was not enough for Roxanne to focus on once the five returned home after their long day. They had gathered on some of the open lounge chairs as they decided their next course of action. Laying her head on James’ shoulder, the girl was doing her best to think about anything except her brand new problem, who was bench pressing all three Jennifers on a lounge chair across from them on the patio. Their chants of “Go WayneWayne!” over and over again made her want to dunk her head in the water and never resurface. She could tell her friends felt the same as their concerned expressions faced the rapper. 

“First he joins our band without our permission…” James spit out as Carlos followed, “Now he steals our girls -”

“Who have no interest in you,” cut off the writer.

Hands flew up in the air as he protested, “It’s still not fair! They look so gorgeous even from all the way over here…”

Though his thought was casual, it seemed to resonate with the girl as her mind started to turn. Quickly, she pulled out her notebook and pen, swirling the red stick in the air a few times as she collected her ideas. 

Here I am,

There you are,

Why does it seem so far?

Next to you is where I want to be

James leaned over to take a peek at what she was doing, and the girl quickly held the book to her chest. 

“I don’t like the last line, you can’t look at it yet.” She stated, trying to keep her mind occupied on the small guitar riff she had written to fit the other verses. A huff escaped his lips as he looked into her eyes, knowing not to interrupt her further. With a nod, James’ scrutinizing gaze left her, allowing her to properly gather her thoughts once more. 

Next to you is where I want to be 

She grumbled and crossed out what she had written.

Next to you is where I could be

Nope, nope, nope. Roxy crossed this out as well. 

Next to you is where I should be

(Where I wanna be)

“Finally,” she whispered to herself as she shut the book with a snap. 

Once he was sure his assistant was done with her writing, Logan spoke up, staring coldly to the other side of the pool. 

“We’re gonna get rid of him.” The brunette turned to Kendall. “Kendall, get rid of him.” 

Roxy stifled a laugh as the frontman fought back, “Why me?” 

“Because he scares us!” James admitted, not even trying to hide his fear. 

Kendall hopped up from his lounge chair to face his friends, and as per usual, the writer could smell speech. 

“We are a band,” the blond began, “and we’re gonna do this together,”

“Kendall.” Roxy warned as she noticed WayneWayne leave his lounge chair and make his way around the edge of the pool, getting scarily close to where the five were sitting. 

“Later, Rox. We are not afraid of some loudmouth, backwards-hatted, droopy pants-wearing -” 

She tried again as the other three boys waved their hands in an ‘x’ motion, “Kendall!” 

“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” 

Regretfully, his assistant nodded. The atmosphere of the pool slowly turned sour as the frontman turned around to face the newest band member, jumping at how close WayneWayne was standing to him. Though Kendall was much taller than the other boy, it almost seemed like the rapper was looking down on him. 

WayneWayne leaned in to emphasize his point, “You want trouble-trouble, Ken-Dork? Bring it, bring it.”

So saving Ken-Dork for later…

“Yeah,” the blond stepped forward, the rest of the band stepping up to back their friend. Though Roxy didn’t quite get the memo she hopped up seconds later to join, slightly obscured by James. “We’ve decided that there’s only room for four band members in Big Time Rush.” 

Sunlight bounced off of WayneWayne’s dark sunglasses as he let out a small chuckle at the other boy's words. “Great-great.”

In one fluid motion, the rapper pulled out his phone and hit the first number on the speed dial. Roxy had a feeling that it would only mean more trouble as the dial tone ended signaling someone had picked up.

“Yo, Griff-Griff. The guys agree with me. Five in the band is too many.”

The girl felt her stomach turn as the boy angled his BlackBerry their way, a picture of Artur Griffin on the screen. 

“Sounds fresh, WayneWayne. I’ll stop by the studio tomorrow to see which one goes. Griff-Griff out.”

James grabbed his hair and screamed as the other three boys looked among themselves, panicked. Though her hands were shaking, Roxy did her best to pull her phone out of her back pocket and hastily type out a message to Kelly. 

R: Visit from Griffin tomorrow. Going to kick someone out of BTR.

Seemingly out of nowhere, WayneWayne produced a large, leather-bound contract with the RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid stamp and Rocque Records logo - it was very similar to the ones the teens had received upon signing with the company, only much thicker. 

“See?” The rapper began, pointing to the book, “My contract states that I’m guaranteed to front a band, and I picked this band.”

Kendall scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Ooh, a contract. We have those too.” 

“If it’s anything like theirs, it just says ‘a band’,” Roxy noted, making a shooing motion with her hand, “Not Big Time Rush. I’m sure Griffin can find a band that's more suited to your… unique tastes. Whatever that may be.”

The band nodded their heads at her statement as Kendall flailed his hands dramatically. “We’re so scared!”

WayneWayne sneered at the frontman, “My contract also states that I get a posse.” 

When he snapped his fingers, three men dressed in oppositely white, baggy clothing to WayneWayne’s signature back appeared from the lobby. They approached the teens with an angry look splashed across their features. Roxy could tell it caught her friends slightly off guard, but they squared up to the men regardless. For now, she decided, staying slightly behind James was her best bet. 

With a wicked smile, WayneWayne threw his hands up, gesturing to the posse, “Scared now?”

The writer should’ve known their toughness was all an act but was still surprised as her friends took three steps back, nearly knocking her over, in order to place some distance between the groups. 

“Fine then, that’s settled,” WayneWayne said. “Now beat it-beat it, you’re interrupting my relaxing pool time.” 

The five were left with little choice, either remove themselves or get thrown out by the boy’s posse. In hopes of not being forcibly removed from the pool twice in one week, Team Big Time Rush gathered their things and made their way to the lobby. 

As Roxy trailed behind the guys, a cold set of fingers wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back in the direction from which she came. 

“And just where-where do you think you’re going-going?” 

The girl’s stomach churned as she slowly turned around to see the boy who had just kicked them out of the pool staring down at her, hand locked around her wrist. His question was not dignified with a response as she did her best to control her steadily increasing breathing. 

I really need to stop coming to this pool.

“You’re the assistant, right? How about you run along and get me a smoothie-smoothie to drink, doll?”

Though the forced smile growing on her face was obviously fake, it was just enough for her to feel his grip loosen as she formulated what she wanted to say. 

“I prefer songwriter-assistant actually, emphasis on ‘songwriter,’” She said, slowly sliding her wrist from the rapper's palm. “And thanks for the lovely suggestion, but no, I will not be getting you a smoothie.”

Before he could process her words, she was already booking it to the lobby where she was quickly able to blend in with the other teenagers waiting to be checked into the famous hotel. 

What a tool, she thought, trying not to picture a future with him in her band. We have got to take care of him quickly.

The lobby was filled to the brim, but it was more than obvious that her friends were sitting off to the side at one of the tables near the elevators. The four were attempting to hide themselves behind two large newspapers and miserably failing. 

“Thanks for the help out there,” scoffed the writer. “Backup would’ve been much appreciated. My patience is running extremely thin on Hollywood men.”

Logan peaked his head out from behind the paper he was sharing with Carlos, “We’re gathering a case file against WayneWayne to take to Gustavo. I was going to take a picture of him hassling you, but you moved too quickly so we’re back to square one. We’ll get him next time, I promise.”

“If there is a next time, you owe me smoothies for a month,” the girl took her hand and swatted away the newspapers obscuring their faces. 

Quickly, she rounded the table, making her way to the potted plant display on the other side of her. After their first reconnaissance mission using their tree hats had gone so well, the group had made one set of five for each planter in the Palm Woods. Grabbing a handful, she threw them in the center of the glass counter before pulling one on. 

“You wanted a case file? Let’s get you a case file.”

The five snuck back out to the pool area decked out in their new spy gear, fearful of the rapper's evil eyes catching them. Eventually, they were able to situate themselves behind a nice grouping of succulents across the water from where the boy and his posse had gathered. It was clear WayneWayne was on a power trip as he wordlessly convinced his gang to kick an innocent man out of his lounge chair, sat down as if nothing happened, and let his crew pamper him.

“Man, he even makes sipping out of a coconut look tough,” Logan reflected, watching as the interloper was handed a fresh coconut drink, earning a swift smack from Carlos. 

“Focus!” Whispered the other boy, “One of us is gonna get kicked out of the band.”

Roxy nodded solemnly.

James shifted beside her, “My money’s on Logan.” 

The other teens turned their heads in unison, giving the long-haired boy annoyed glares. 

Logan’s “Mean!” crossed over Roxy’s “Shut up!”

From the other end of the planter, Kendall spoke. “Nobody’s breaking us up. We’re a team. We’re not afraid of WayneWayne, or anybody else.” 

Moments after they returned to their spying, a girl dressed in a bedazzled pink and black luchadora costume suddenly popped up in front of them.

“Hey, guys!”

The assistant quickly covered her ears as the boys screamed, seemingly unable to recognize the figure as their friend Camille. Her method acting gave her many looks and personalities, but this was the first outfit that completely covered her face. Possibly the reason her incompetent friends had such a reaction. 

“Oh, relax, I didn’t get the part,” Camille reassured the group. “Maybe throwing the casting director in a flying headlock was a bad idea.” 

Roxy grinned. “You have so gotta show me how to do that!” 

“Camille,” interrupted Kendall, tone of voice indicating his patience was running thin. “We’re in an urgent save-our-band mission right now.”

Gesturing over to the other side of the pool, the six observed WayneWayne urging his posse to fan him with flimsy palm tree fronds while he enjoyed his drink. Though it took her a moment, the actress spun back around with a confused look on her face. 

“When did Wally Dooley move to the Palm Woods?” 

Oh, this is gonna be good.

“Wally Who-ley?” Logan repeated, confused. 

The luchadora repeated the name and turned back around to double-check. “He must be up for a bad boy role,” she confirmed. “We worked together on The Magic Middle School. He played towel boy!” 

Roxanne grabbed a pen from her bag and furiously wrote down all the information on Dooley she could; it was definitely going to be put to good use later. 

“What?” The boys questioned, stunned. Though Camille and Roxy were on the same page, it seemed the band had fallen behind their brilliant thinking. 

“There’s clips of that online, right?” The writer asked, equally as interested in seeing Camille’s previous work and getting to see the real WayneWayne - er, Wally.

Taking off her sparkly pink mask, the costumed girl slowly shook out her hair. “Of course it is! Though the show only got one season, it has a really weird cult following. There are a bunch of clips on SnoobTube.”

Logan held his index finger up triumphantly, “To SnoobTube!” As he and the teens snuck back into the Palm Woods lobby to use the communal computer. 

“So, Camille,” Roxy began as they crossed the pool deck, “I’ve never seen The Magic Middle School, who did you play?” 

The other girl beamed. “I was an 8th grader by the name of Amalie Alfhard! She was the editor of the school newspaper so she knew everything about everyone - her magic ability was mind reading, which really came in handy.”

Pulling out her phone, the wrestler dug through her old images before finding a picture of her in costume. Blonde waves cascaded down to her shoulders, popping out against the form fitting red and white Magic Middle School uniform. Clutched in one hand was a copy of the paper Magic Times and the other held a magnifying glass up to one of her eyes.

“This is the cutest thing I have ever seen!” Roxy gushed. “I’ll have to watch the show soon, then you can fill me in on all the juicy backstage gossip.” 

Camille giggled, “You’ll love the show; Amalie the most, obviously. She was always able to use her magic to help everyone out.” Her brown eyes fluttered over to Logan before returning to her friend. “I wish I could do that now.” 

With a silent nod from Roxy, the group reached the computer. In order to let Camille through to the front, she stepped back in line with her band and began to think of ways to take down Dooley with their current wealth of information. 

Someone interrupted her thoughts. 

“I’m not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” 

Little shocks shot down her back at the soft words whispered in her ear. 

“Does ‘urgent save-our-band-mission’ mean nothing to you, James?” She whispered back. 

He let out a sharp, offended gasp due to her non-confirmation that she openly ignored while focusing on the computer where Camille had pulled up the clip. 

On the screen, they watched as the scrawny character Towel Boy was tormented by the members of the MMS basketball team. Wally’s acting wasn’t terrible, but it was far from noteworthy.

After a brief moment to soak the clip in, Logan was the first to speak. 

“So, WayneWayne didn’t grow up on the mean streets of Detroit?”

A snort escaped the girl in front of the computer, “he grew up in a mansion in Dallas. His dad invented toast on a rope.”

“And he’s gonna kick one of us out of the band?” Kendall erupted, stepping back into the lobby. 

Roxy couldn’t recall a time she had seen him so angry. Despite his normal calm and cool demeanor, it was clear the bad boy situation was taking quite a toll on him. 

As much as the assistant would love for this conversation to continue, she spotted WayneWayne and his goons enter the lobby - heading straight for the blond, just like he had earlier at the pool.

“Kendall,” she warned, but he either didn’t hear her or he ignored her.

“We’re gonna kick him out of the band-”

Around her, the guys began to shake their heads, trying to get their friend to stop as the actor squared up behind him.

“- cause we don’t need no fakey-fakey, poser-poser-” 

As he held his fingers up in a ‘W’ shape to imitate the wannabe bad boy, his friends' warnings became clearer and clearer before he stopped his rant all-together. “He’s behind me again, isn’t he?” 

Roxy brought her palm to her face and sighed, watching as Kendall turned around to square up to the shorter boy. 

Sensing high tensions, the writer elbowed Camille in an attempt to break the ice. Catching her meaning, the actress stepped out from behind Kendall and politely waved to the rapper. 

“Hey, Wally!” 

His response was curt and came with a kind smile as he brought his eyes off of Kendall. “Hey, Camille.” 

The diversion lasted mere seconds before WayneWayne settled back into his bad boy persona.

“Oh, and newsflash,” he addressed the group. “This town is full of phonies, and nobody cares. Show them the contract!” 

One of his posse members held it up, light bouncing off of the gold Rocque Records logo. 

He continued, “What do you guys think of the name WayneWayne Rush?”

Carlos made his way to stand beside Kendall, “Dude, once Gustavo finds out you're a phony-phony…”

“You are out-out!” Finished James.

The girl chimed in, wanting to share her support, “Bye-bye!’

But their threats were just met with laughter from the rapper, “You guys, Gustavo is a joke, okay? Griffin has the power, and he’ll get rid of whoever I say. And I say…” He put his black sunglasses on and leaned towards the frontman. “It’s you. And there’s nothing you can do about it, because you can’t stop the WayneWayne train.” 

He and his posse made train noises as they made their exit towards the elevators. 

What a bunch of-

Before she could finish her thought, her band had sprinted towards the entrance of the hotel, presumably to report back to Kelly and Gustavo. Quickly thanking Camille, the assistant ran after them - calling the car service to come pick them up.

Once they ran into Gustavo’s office, they briefed their bosses on the situation at hand. 

“WayneWayne is a total fraud!” Logan began, his shaky voice betraying the brave look on his face. 

James threw his hands up in frustration, “He wants to kick Kendall out of the band!”

Their bosses looked at them, processing the information being hurled at them. 

“Really?” Questioned Gustavo. “I would’ve bet on Logan.” 

The studious boy let out a fake chuckle and Roxy placed a comforting hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Well, you would have lost!” He shot back, clearly hurt by the amount of similar comments he had received today. 

“Wait. Woah,” Kelly held her hand out in a ‘stop’ motion. “We can’t let WayneWayne kick Kendall out of the band.”

Roxanne backed her up, “We need your help Mr. Rocque, what are you going to do?” 

He looked back at her, bug-eyed. 

“Nothing.” 

The man began to walk out of his office, leaving his six subordinates in a state of shock. It was only a matter of seconds before their protests rang through the halls as they chased him, begging him to change his mind.

“Gustavo, you can’t let this poser tell you what to do with your band,” Kendall said, pushing his way into the producer’s line of sight. The air was tense and it gave Roxy a bad feeling as she watched the two showdown from behind the other band members. 

Gustavo lifted his head as he faced the teens, Kelly quickly coming to his side. 

“It’s not my band, okay?” 

The five exchanged nervous glances.

“What do you mean?” Roxy was brave enough to question. “That’s what you’ve always told us: Big Time Rush is your band.” 

“It’s Griffin’s.” 

No way, is Gustavo actually… upset?

“Look,” the man continued. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t had a hit in a while. This band is my ticket back to the top, and until I get back there… what he says goes.” 

“We’ll team up,” Kendall said, overlapping with Roxy’s “We can fight this!” 

Both were shut down by Gustavo with a sharp “No.” 

“We’ll need cool code names!” James joined, ignoring what the producer had to say. “I’ll be the falcon.” 

“I’ll be the snowman!” Logan followed. 

“And!” burst Carlos, “You’ll need a tree hat!” 

The boy jumped out and popped one of his fauna creations onto his boss’s head. 

Their plan was met with immediate rejection as he pulled off the hat and slammed it to the ground, “No! And no tree hat!” 

“Gustavo,” Kendall pleaded, “We can come up with a plan.”

They were running out of hope as their boss got angrier and angrier at each of their comments. It had barely been a week and a half since they arrived in Los Angeles and now more than ever was a time they needed to unite against the forces of Griffin.

“Big Time Rush is not Big Time Rush without Kendall!” Declared Roxy, crossing her arms and growing more annoyed with every idea their boss was shutting down. 

Kelly, their potential saving grace, spoke up, “Come on Gustavo, you know they’re right; They’re really good at plans.”

“No plans!” The man erupted, causing everyone in the room to jump. His display of anger was genuine; they truly had no hope left. “I don’t want you hockey heads pulling any of your schemes or shenanigans that are gonna get me in trouble with Griffin and the record company.” 

“I’m not a hockey head,” Roxy offered, “How about-” 

“No!” Gustavo yelled again, thinking he could have the last word. 

The girl felt her cheeks grow red in shame, having been talked down to multiple times throughout this entire conversion. Though she tried to contain her thoughts they quickly bubbled over as she stepped forward in front of her band.

“What is wrong with you? This band has already done so much to put you back on the map and they have never, ever let you down. How is the biggest music producer in Hollywood acting like such a coward right now-” 

A hand flew over her mouth from behind as she felt another hand wrap around her waist to pull her back. As much as she wanted to thrash out of the grip, she knew it was one of the guys, probably looking out for her own good. 

“She didn’t mean that,” Kendall nervously laughed, glancing down at the girl he held tightly in his arms. 

Both of their comments went ignored as Gustavo grabbed the day’s sheet music from Kelly. 

“Here are your music sheets for the song you’re gonna sing for Griffin in one hour. James…”

Gustavo wrote his name down on his sheet before handing it to him.

“Logan…”

The written-on sheet was shoved into the boy’s chest.

“Roxanne…” 

Once Gustavo said her name, Kendall let her go - still partially concerned she’d blow up again if given the chance.

If he seriously thinks he can get me to play his stupid song after all of this…

“Kendall…”

The scribbling seemed to get louder with every page.

“Carlos…” 

Finally, they had all received their sheets. When she peered down at hers she noticed that he hadn’t written down her name. Something else had been written at the top of the page.

Rid

Rid? What does that mean? She thought. 

“Study them. Learn them. Got it?” 

“Got it,” The five chorused. When they held their sheets up, Roxy noticed the writing on the boy’s as well. If read from left to right she could spy,

Let’s get rid of WayneWayne

***

“Hey, Rox, are you still out there?” 

Kendall was calling to his assistant from one of the small fitting rooms in the costuming department of Rocque Records. 

After the secret note given to the group by Gustavo, they had sent Kelly out on a mission to retrieve a file from another floor of the building. Their boss explained the reason for his harsh words and reactions: Kelly was a terrible liar. If she knew that they had a plan in place in order to get WayneWayne out of the band, there was a good chance she could totally blow their cover.

Though it took a while for everyone to agree to the same plan, eventually the group had gone with Roxy’s - though it came with much protest from the frontman.  She explained that the only reason for WayneWayne joining the band was because none of the current members were able to fulfill Griffin’s perception of the bad boy role, so if they wanted him gone the CEO would have to be satisfied by one of her friends as the bad boy. Seeing as the other three had shown off their awful bad boy impression at Kelly and Gustavo’s tryouts, that left them with Kendall as the only one who could pull this off.

When Kelly came back, the team broke into two parts - one group off with Gustavo to practice their new song and dance, the other off to wardrobe in order to transform Kendall, under the guise he was to help the girl gather recording supplies. Roxy happily bounced from rack to rack of clothes, finding the boy the perfect outfit which he begrudgingly put on and was waiting to show her.

“I’m right where you left me,” she replied as she leaned against one of the vanities beside the small room he was in, twirling a pencil of black eyeliner between her fingers. 

The curtain was drawn back and it took all the girl had not to let her jaw drop clear to the floor. Dressed head to toe in black, from his boots to his jacket to his watch, Bad Boy Kendall tentatively took a few steps out before checking himself out in one of the many full-length mirrors in the room.

Holy shit. I’ve really outdone myself.

“Girls seriously dig this kinda crap?” The blond questioned, popping the collar of the jacket. “The attitude, I mean… I look really good in these clothes.”

It was too late to conceal how long she had been staring at him, “You don’t know the half of it…”

His eyes flicked to hers in the mirror for a brief moment before he turned around to face her. “What are you going to do to me with that thing in your hand?” 

“This?” She held up the makeup tool. “None of your girlfriends wore eyeliner?”

“Probably, I dunno.”

She rolled her eyes, “Well, James wears eyeliner all the time.” 

Kendall’s eyebrows raised as he internalized her comment, “Could’ve fooled me.” 

Roxy twirled the pencil a few more times before explaining its function to the clueless boy, “It’s supposed to help draw attention to the eye. No bad boy look is complete without dark and smoky guy-liner! We just have one issue-”

“The tightness of my pants?” 

“No, definitely not,” The writer shook her head. “You’re a whole head taller than me, so I just need to find…” 

Scanning the room, Roxanne looked for anything that could boost her height. It was clear Kendall was still getting used to the tight clothes so the last thing he needed was to bend down to her height as she worked on his makeup. Her eyes lit up as she spotted a purple crushed velvet stool hidden under one of the many vanities in the room.

“... Something like this!” She exclaimed, grabbing Kendall’s arm and dragging him with her beyond a few racks of clothes. “Stay right there.” 

He did as he was told while she pulled the small chair out from its spot. With a small huff Roxy placed her step stool at his feet, determining that any height boost was much better than none. Gingerly, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, hoisting herself up until she stood eye-to-eye with the bad boy.  

“I didn’t quite imagine we’d be on two save-our-band missions this week,” the boy joked, glancing down at the pencil that would soon approach his face. “Please don’t turn it into a save-my-eye mission.” 

A playful gasp left her lips, “Kendall Knight, I can’t believe you don’t trust me. After all we’ve been through together…” 

The back of her hand flew to her forehead as she pretended to faint in shock at his comment. 

“I do, Rox,” his comment was quick and sincere, yet he avoided her eyes and looked off at something behind her. “I’m just thinking of it like a weird kind of eye-black.” 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be anything crazy. We’re going for more of a Liam Gallagher look; it’ll tie nicely with your outfit. Ready?” 

With a nod of his head, Kendall closed his eyes and the girl brought the pencil to his left eye, gently dragging it along his lash line. Under the point, she felt his eye twitch but he didn’t complain at all and let her continue to gently round his eye with the creamy black shade. 

After a moment, he asked her a question. “Which band was that guy in again? The one you just mentioned.”

Retracting the pencil, she waved her hand over his eye for a few seconds to help set the makeup. “Liam Gallagher? He’s in Oasis, they’re one of my favorites. Now he’s the prime example of a bad boy, always fighting with his brother and everything.” 

A chuckle escaped her as she recalled the feud the brothers of the band have had on and off since the band’s formation in the early 90s. It was hard for her to imagine making music with someone she didn’t get along with.

“Ah,” Kendall pondered, peeking his right eye open. “You had a few of their tapes in your box.” 

“You remember that?” The tone in her voice came off more shocked than she had wanted to let show. It struck her as a weird detail to remember, especially after what had happened with the tape he ended up choosing to play. Her feet shifted from side to side. “I’ve got a good collection if I do say so myself.”

Silence filled the room as he closed his eyes again, ready for the other side to be completed. Once more, the pencil slowly drew along his lash line, covering most of it. At one point, the girl had lifted the pencil up and Kendall had opened his eyes, not knowing she was about to come back for more - causing the pencil to drive right into his sclera.

“Ow!” He hissed as his body shook at the sudden pain. Right hand flying to his eye, he managed to hit Roxy’s arm - the sheer force of it all knocking her completely off balance.

Feeling her weight shift under her, the girl’s heart beat faster as she lost her footing and began to tumble backwards. In an attempt to stabilize herself, her arms shot around the neck of the boy in front of her as she felt her stomach drop out of fear. 

Realizing what he had done, the boy reacted quickly; hands flying around her waist in an attempt to stabilize her. Gently, he guided her back into the small step stool, making sure she was balanced once more. 

The eyeliner pencil had been dropped sometime during their scuffle, a fact lost to Roxy as the only things she could focus on were Kendall’s soft hair hitting her cheek as she clung to him, shaking, and his burning palms on her hips.

Please don’t let him be able to feel my heartbeat, please don’t-

“Are you alright?” Kendall asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Neither of them moved while the girl composed herself, a nearly impossible task while the two were practically flushed against each other.

One breath in. One breath out. 

“Yeah,” Roxy lied, unlocking her arms from around his neck. Placing them on his shoulders, she carefully pushed him back and did her best to avoid his gaze. “Nice save.” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to light your candle.” 

The confusion must have been written all over the girl's face as he followed up with, “Hockey term.” 

Stepping off the stool to search for her lost product, Roxy let out a hum of understanding. 

“Ready to go kick some Griffin-butt?” She questioned, spotting the pencil under a rack of clothing. It was likely he would enjoy the quick subject change as well. 

The bad boy nodded, reaching up to sweep some of his blond hair over his eyes, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Buzz

L: Hurry up!!!!!

“Then it's go time!”

The pair scrambled out of the room and onto the stairs, rushing to get to Studio A as fast as they could. Growing closer, they could hear the sounds of their boss and CEO echoing from the speaker into the practice room where the other three members were standing with WayneWayne. 

“Let’s hear my new bad boy band.” Griffin demanded, words dripping with malice. 

No turning back now. 

The girl shoved Kendall through the hall before he could change his mind, “Try a slow, dramatic entrance. And good luck!” 

With a pop of his jacket, the boy began to casually saunter into the studio containing both WayneWayne and his friends. The stupid smirk on his face never faltered as he challenged the older man. 

“Yeah, let’s hear it.”

Making her way into the control room on the other side of the glass partition, Roxy slid into the group of adults silently and pushed her way to stand beside Kelly who was anxiously biting her nails. She contemplated taking a photo of the shocked looks on her employers’ faces at the sight of a bad boy challenger, but quickly decided against it as Kendall and WayneWayne began to square up to each other.

The other three members of Big Time Rush immediately moved to back up their friend. 

Through silent cheers and a handful of fist pumps Carlos yelled, “Ooh, it’s a Bad Boy Off!” 

Her eyebrows rose as Gustavo and Kelly shook their heads, trying to get the boy to step down, and Griffin repeated Carlos’ words as if he were contemplating one of the biggest decisions of his life. 

“You know, one thing I know about bad boys is…” Kendall started, swinging his hips as he strolled over to a spare mic stand. Roughly picking it up, he turned to the booth as he walked over to Gustavo’s wall of platinum records on display. “They like breaking stuff.” 

Not fast enough to cover either her eyes or her ears, Roxy watched in horror as he swung the stand up like a baseball bat and smashed one of the records, causing another to fall off the wall in the process.

Gustavo let out a guttural scream. A scream indicating he was probably about to kill Kendall; a scream indicating Roxy would be staying at the studio late in order to clean up his bad boy mess. As her bosses ran out into the studio through the recording booth, she followed hot on their heels. 

“What was that?” The producer cried, waving his hands in anger. “You smashed one of my platinum records?” 

Kendall was about to answer before WayneWayne cut him off.

“Oh, yeah?” The poser challenged, picking up the mic stand. “Well…” 

The butt of the stand was smashed into three more records, sending glass flying all over the instruments below. With each destroyed record, Gustavo screamed louder and louder before attempting to charge at the boy. It took Roxy, Kelly, and one of Griffin’s assistants to hold him back. 

From behind them, the girl heard Griffin coo, “Round one of the bad boy off goes to WayneWayne. Someone ring a bell!” 

Obdul, always at his boss’ side, pulled a boxing bell from his briefcase and rang it, sending a clear ding, ding throughout the room. 

Much to the band’s horror, their CEO was very invested in the upcoming contest, one that would no doubt destroy the assistant’s chances of going home early tonight.

***

The next trial devised by their boss was a rap battle between the two bad boys to display who had better prowess. Something that, in Roxy’s opinion, didn’t matter as neither she or Gustavo wrote rap songs, but whatever the CEO wanted, he got. 

WayneWayne was in the recording booth, piecing together a freestyle song about his superior badness and his love for L.A. before he was abruptly body slammed by Kendall, who took over on the mic. 

“Your rhymes are weak, mine fit like a glove. Gustavo’s got a face only a mother could love!”

How or why this sparked inspiration in the young songwriter, she didn’t understand, but the combination fake bad boy paired with the incident in the dressing room earlier helped her finally discover more parts of her new song. 

Diving out of the way to avoid an angry Gustavo trying to charge through the glass of the recording booth to strangle Kendall after his last line, Roxanne picked up her bag at the back of the studio humming the tune to herself. Members of team BTR, team WayneWayne, and team Griffin all exploded at the producer's outburst, making it incredibly noisy in the small room. So, the girl ventured into the hallway for a welcomed change of pace after hearing the CEO declare Kendall the winner of the round. 

Once she was alone, she plopped down and sat with her legs crossed in an attempt to make a small flat surface and pulled out her pen. Throughout the last 30 minutes, she had seen her friend change his entire look, with proper coaching of course, and pretend to be someone he wasn’t to win over their boss. While changing your entire personality to make people like you was a terrible theme for a song, it wasn’t uncommon for individuals to pretend to be someone else in order to gain another's favor. 

Placing the red pen to the paper, she jotted everything down as it came to her. 

So why keep pretending? Open your eyes

I can be what you need

Any kind of guy you want, oh, that’s the guy I’ll be

Turn myself upside down

Any kind of guy you want, oh, you know I’ll agree

Turn your whole world around 

She stared at the page a bit longer, reading over her words a few more times before hesitantly crossing out both ‘oh’s’ and replacing them with ‘girl’. A change her boss would probably appreciate much more. Writing her last song for the band wasn’t as hard, she was experiencing the story with the boys as it unfolded, but love songs were going to be much trickier. Not only did she need to think like the band, she also needed to think like their target audience. 

If Dak Zevon sang this to me… Roxy smiled to herself, allowing her mind to wander.

The door to the recording room slammed open, sending a jolt through the girl’s body. Kendall, Carlos, James, and Logan appeared to be pushed through, the force smashing them against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

“And stay out!” Gustavo yelled, poking his head out for a moment to grab the handle and slam the door back closed. 

Standing up and opening her mouth to speak, the songwriter was quickly cut off by the frontman. 

His words were labored, but he still managed to fit in some bad boy charm, “Know where a guy can find a sledgehammer around here?” 

Songbook shut, the girl gripped it tight, racking her brain for anywhere her friend might be able to find something like that on such short notice. Then, it hit her.

Ever since they transformed Studio B into a basketball court, Gustavo hasn’t had the time to fully finish remodeling it back to the way it was. Thankfully, the noise hasn’t cut into their recording time because the crew had been working by night. Even if the chance was slim, maybe some of the members had left their tools behind. 

“Studio B,” was enough to get the four running off in the opposite direction. 

“Thanks!” Kendall called out before turning the corner. “Meet us outside Gustavo’s office?” 

She nodded her head and moseyed down the hall to their boss’s sanctuary, deciding to take the long way around to not be implicated in any scheming.

Sledgehammer… Gustavo’s office… He better not be doing what I think he is.

Violent sounds of glass shattering, a jackhammer pounding, and a cat screeching met her as she turned the corner to see a grouping of people standing outside of Gustavo’s office door. Everyone was there to witness the Bad Boy Off, WayneWayne included. Slowly, she filed in beside James, wincing at every sound of something breaking. There would be so much clean up, she might as well stay the night at this point. While winning this competition was going to be a good thing, it was coming at a great cost to the band’s assistant. 

When Gustavo arrived from the direction of the studio he pushed through the crowd and rummaged in his pockets to find the office keys. Nothing could prepare any of them for what they would find once the door was opened.

From the side of the crowd, the girl could see a thick cloud of dust slowly trail out into the hallway, causing her to cough a few times as it filled her lungs. All of Gustavo’s belongings were piled in the middle of the room, completely smashed to pieces and various electric wires sparked, leading the man to step away from the door. His mind was quickly changed, however, and he rushed in to see if anything in the room was salvageable. Moments after, the culprit revealed himself.

Standing proudly in the doorway was Bad Boy Kendall, still dressed in his dark clothes, perfect smoky eyeliner, and wielding a bright yellow sledgehammer over his shoulder which he lazily tossed into the rubble behind him. As he walked out he made sure to throw his arms up and shrug nonchalantly in a “Yeah, I just did that” manor. 

“He destroyed my office!” Yelled Gustavo as he zoomed to the door, unable to find anything with saving. “My music awards… And he used my drawer as a bathroom!”

Roxanne had to hold back a gag. No way was she cleaning that up.

“Bad boys go where they want,” was all Kendall had to offer as he popped his black jacket collar. 

 Beside her, Griffin and Logan turned to each other, exchanging humored looks as the CEO declared, “That’s a new one.”

Does anyone understand just how disgusting that is? The girl thought with another gag.

Griffin continued, “Original and very, very bad.” 

In the back of the group, WayneWayne stumbled around Roxy and pushed past the older man while mumbling a chorus of “no, no, no!”. 

Once he saw Gustavo’s office, the color drained from his face making his weird soul patch stand out even more. All hope was lost after seeing Kendall’s destruction and the assistant could not wait to see him go. 

“I’m the bad boy!” WayneWayne cried, eyebrows twisted up as he let out a series of nervous chuckles. “Me!”

Carlos was the first to speak up after a few more seconds of watching the poser squirm. 

“Dude, he went in his desk.”

That wasn’t good enough for the black-and-gold-clad boy. Desperation was written all over his face as he began to spiral. 

“I’ll show you,” he claimed, shoving a finger into Carlos’ face. “And I’ll show you,” another finger to Kendall’s face behind him. WayneWayne spun back around and locked eyes with the young girl. “And-”

James stepped in front of her before the wannabe could even finish his sentence. Arms crossed, he simply shook his head as if he were daring the boy to make another move. 

“I’ll show all of you! I’ll - I’ll -” 

He was losing his grip fast. It was clear he had lost the contest and there were no more large areas to destroy besides Griffin’s office a few floors up. The boy looked around frantically, hoping to find anything that might help save his sinking ship. After turning around a few times, his eyes trained on Griffin.

Once WayneWayne decided on the CEO as his target, his eyebrows raised in victory and his plan went into motion. Raising his right leg, he swung it straight up and for a moment she thought he missed his target as everyone stood still. That was, until Griffin let out a strange groan and fell to the floor whispering, “Kumbaya.”

Great idea, assault the man with a bodyguard standing right behind him.

In a matter of seconds, Obdul had WayneWayne’s arms pinned to his sides and his white-clad posse was running down the hallway to the elevator. 

“Too far?” The wannabe shrugged, trying to play his actions off as a joke. 

All the rest of the group could do was shrug and feel pity for whatever Griffin was about to do next. 

The silver-haired man bounced back upright, straightening his red and blue tie. 

His smile was vicious. “You’re right, WayneWayne. Big Time Rush should be only four.”

The confined man struggled in Obdul’s arms. “You can’t fire me!” He strained, “You know why? ‘Cause I have… A contract! You have to put me in the band!”

Griffin was stone-faced. “I have to put you in a band, just not this one. They already have a bad boy.”

Roxy wished she had her phone on her to take a picture of the shock written on WayneWayne’s face as he realized Griffin was talking about Kendall. For now, she managed a small happy dance and threw a wink at the blond who was still standing in the doorway of Gustavo’s office. 

As WayneWayne was being escorted off the floor, Kendall managed his bad boy persona for all of .02 seconds, quickly returning to the person he was before his makeover earlier. 

He turned to Griffin, “But I don’t want to wear these clothes all the time, and I won’t turn my back on my friends.” 

“Fine. And you can still date my daughter, but I want you nowhere near my desk.”

Shuddering, Roxy pictured herself setting Gustavo’s desk on fire. 

As he was being dragged out, WayneWayne went babbling on about how he was the bad boy and his contract with Griffin was going to save him. Whatever band he would end up being placed in would surely be a better fit.  Team Big Time Rush made sure to give him big smiles and waves as he was dragged around the corner and out of their sight forever. At least, she hoped it would be forever. 

“You!”

Their glee was interrupted by their boss’s earsplitting scratch at the band’s official bad boy. 

“Nice work!” He continued, and the six in on the bad boy plan let out fits of laughter, coming in for a group high-five much to the chagrin of Kelly. 

Turning her head from side to side, she pointed to where WayneWayne and Kendall had stood earlier, barely able to utter any words. “But he- he smashed, and you- He went in-”

“I teamed up with the hockey heads and Roxanne, ‘cause they do have good plans.”

The teens just shrugged, still shocked that they had managed to pull this plan off so flawlessly. 

This just confused Kelly further, “I was here the whole time. When did you plan this?”

Rummaging in her back pocket, Roxanne unfolded the music sheet Gustavo had given her earlier and squeezed in between Logan and Kendall to hold her page up, showing off their Let’s get rid of WayneWayne message. 

The talent scout stomped her feet like a little kid, “I could’ve helped! I’m part of this team, too, you know?” 

“Yes, you are.” Gustavo assured her, “but you’re still a horrible faker-liar-actress.”

Each teen chorused a weak ‘yeah’ at their boss’s statement. 

The woman began to fake cry, trying to guilt her coworkers into feeling sorry they left her out, but her sobs were so clearly staged no one believed her.

With no warning, she stopped. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

***

While the rest of the band was released to go home, Roxanne stayed behind and did her best to clean up Studio A, but refused to make a dent on Gustavo’s office. One text to a cleaning crew and they promised an express-overnight cleaning for an additional charge which she gladly placed on her company credit card. 

Each shard of broken glass was carefully swept up and the girl felt a pang of jealousy as she ran her gloved fingers over the destroyed platinum records. Her time would come; Big Time Rush was her ticket to the big time too - they just needed to survive a few more weeks in Los Angeles and make sure Rocque Records kept them signed. Any other line of thinking was pushed out of her head. 

Able to recall the events from the day, she wondered if Mrs. Knight would be able to help Kendall get his eyeliner off without him rubbing it into his eye. It had hurt him a lot when she poked him earlier and she didn’t want him to experience that again. 

Once the studio was cleaned to her liking, she contacted the cleaning crew and went downstairs to meet them. Taking them all the way back up to Gustavo’s office, she didn’t even think to make sure she had all her belongings before she left for the day. 

While her guitar had been left at home, her songbook and favorite pen had been left on the counter in the control room just in case inspiration struck while she was cleaning up after her band. The day had been too long and too tiring. All she could think about was getting home and crawling into bed.

[artem-wing-wife]

CONFESSION FROM HER NEMESIS || PART 1

[ this is from my Wattpad/AO3 by the name Ann Luciana [Wattpad] and Ann_Luciana_Writes [AO3]

Not proofread

_

Today is the day. The day that Mona Megistus waited for so long. The day where their finals for the first semester were to be announce and the day to see if her efforts paid off.

Mona walks into the auditorium with the other scholars from different courses. Her eyes spark when the dean list is finally shown on the big screen. Obviously, Raiden Scaramouche got onto the list, he is well-known to be a genius after all. If his attitude matches his face, it would be a lot better. Mona stared at the smug nemesis who was smirking at her, admitting that he had won. Mona looks back to the screen to search for her name, Mona.

A little gasp left her mouth as she found her name was not included in the list but instead the professor's son, Michael, was on the list. She turns her vision back to Scaramouche who is still smugly smiling to her.

'This is not fair...' Mona thought, blaming herself for her failure to get on the dean list. 'But it can't be, right? Is my hard work just a waste of time? The professor might make a mistake when they are correcting the papers?' Mona bit her fingernails, anxiously. Without noticing the man's presence, Mona almost squeals as he pokes her cheeks.

"What do you want from me, Bowl-cut jerk?", Mona asks him, unamused.

A grunt escaped from his breath, "Where is your name, Miss Astrologist?" Scaramouche teases her but then stunned when she just hugged him tight. "Megistus, are you okay? All I'm asking is if your name was listed on the list" he comforted her by returning the hug and slowly turned away to see if her name was listed on the screen. His expression went indifferent when he saw another name than the girl's on the list for Astrology course. How can an overworking, bright student like her, especially Mona herself, fail to get onto the list? "Is this a joke?"

"Scara, can we go somewhere else? I don't feel well", without arguing with the sad astrologist, he picks her up, from her knees onto a tight bridal lift. She was flustered by the sudden sweet treatment, yet it is still embarrassing to be held sweetly like that in front of the other students. "You idiot! I order you to release me this instant!" she ordered but only replied with a soft hum.

'Wait, why is the mighty Scaramouche holding the hot babe from Astrology course that tight? Just look at him, holding her so close'

'Aren't they like enemies?'

'Lucky girl, I wish Scaramouche held me like that'

People whispering as the two of them quickly walk out from the auditorium. "Megistus, do you want to go anywhere? Come on, I'll treat you" Scaramouche ask her, still holding the girl tight to his chest, walking straight out from the academy to his car. Slow and careful, Scaramouche pulled the car door to put the sad Mona in his car, seating herself in the passenger's seat.

"Can we get something to drink? I think I need them now; this stupid semester messed me up" Mona groans and then pulls Scaramouche closer to her; which caught him off guard.

"Megistus, what are you trying to do now, huh?"

"You are my enemy; yet you are the one who came to comfort me. Why? Why are you being so nice to me?" Mona stared into the male's eyes, pleading for an answer.

Scaramouche just avoid her gaze and walk straight to his seat, starting the car as the sign that they are moving somewhere. "Mona , does steamboat sounds good?" and he only receives a nod from her. "Want me to invite anyone, just in case you are not comfortable with me alone?" He asks her again and Mona just shook her head.

"You can just invite your friends over, I'm sure they will enjoy it too", she softly adds, and Scaramouche just nodded.

"Well, I'll call Rosaline and Ajax then"

Mona just chuckled and smile to the man who is texting his friends. He quickly drove his car out of the parking lot. The girl took a glance over to her nemesis again; yet shocked at a focused man who is driving herself to find comfort from her heartbreak.

'How can one be so selfish and caring at the same time? How can someone like him become so soft for their own enemies? The longer I watch him, the more I fell for him' back to her senses, she pinched her cheeks. 'What am I thinking?! There is no way that I am falling for that douche! Yeah, right! He's an asshole! Get your senses back, Mona! You are better than this!' she kept cursing to herself and pinching her cheeks over and over again.

"Mona, are you good? Do you need any pills or anything?", Scaramouche shows some concern which confused Mona even more. "Hey idiot, I am talking to you over here?"

Mona just smiled but that didn't satisfy him at all. "Mona, in this world, the one thing I hate the most than my mother is liars. Your face looks red, it's hideous." Scaramouche is still driving his car.

The reply got her pouting, Mona just brushes the feelings off of her. 'Maybe I'm just being delusional. Yes, that's probably it!'. As she finished with her thoughts, Scaramouche had already parked the car and stared at her.

"Oi, you didn't answer my question woman" he leans forward with made the girl almost squealing but instead push him off. "Hey!"

"I'm fine, so don't worry about it! Is this the restaurant?' she pauses "Oh boy, I am hungry! I could eat a cow!"

"Definitely, you could. Your diet is pretty much concerning, I might add. You have to eat something better, once in a while. So! Consider this offer as a reward from me, forget about the dean's list!" He walks out of the car and opens her side. "Come on out, we need to cook before those two idiots come"

Mona quickly smiles and pats his head like a cat, "You are acting weird, but I like this weird part of you, Kuni" Mona picks his hand and leads him inside the restaurant like a newly dated university couple. "One table please, for 5 people if you don't mind" she talks to the cashier.

"Five? All I know is that you, Ajax, Rosaline and I are the only ones who will attend this little dinner we have. Who is that other one person?"

"Lumine? To think that she is Ajax's girlfriend, I think she might come along with them"

"And who will be paying for her portions?" he lifts his left eyebrows.

"You?"

"Whatever then, let's get this all over with. Show us our seats please?" he politely asks the nearest waitress. The waitress pointing at herself, and Scaramouche just rolled his eyes. "Yes you" he paused.

The waitress smiles wide like Chester cat and being all touchy to Scaramouche which made him disgusted, Mona then quickly pulls Scaramouche closer to her and sticking her tongue out causing the waitress to be pissed. "He's mine, lady. Didn't mommy teach you to not mess with other people's property, no?"

Still looking pissed, the waitress quickly shows them their seats. "Help yourself, call me if you need something"

"No, thank you. I'll ask someone else if I need something. I appreciate the attention, but you sure have a big, massive voluptuous balls to flirt with my date"

"Certainly, I am so sorry", the waitress left hurried and Scaramouche just smirking at the sight of the jealous astrologist.

"So, I am your date, huh?" the words came out from his mouth "Damn, I thought that I am only a friend that always being an asshole that you can't get rid of. I am touched to hear that you called me as your date"

Flustered, Mona just whispers to herself. "I don't have a choice, do I? I always fell for one who shows me a little affection"

"Darling, I heard that. The wind really on my side, huh?"

"Oh, you heard wrong, mister! Now! I'll get the veggies for the soup, and you get the meats so they can come with the food served!" Mona quickly ran towards the vegetables section, leaving Scaramouche alone.

Smiling to himself, "Well, stupidly, I do fall for your honesty and beauty with that brain too. God, hope you can wait still, Mona. I still need time to prepare myself for the confession. I'll make it the best day of your life"

[jungkookiesandmelk]

bts being rough with you

hi! this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr, i’ve only been using wattpad up until now under the same username! i thought maybe this will find a different audience. hope u enjoy!

warnings: smut, rough sex, daddy kink, dirty talking, edging, unprotected sex, slapping

namjoon: "keep your eyes open, look at me," namjoon said as he fucked you. he grabbed your face with his hand, making you look straight into his eyes. you struggled not to break eye contact as he thrust into you mercilessly, your breathing shallow and moans coming from your lips.

it was almost too much to take, watching the intent in his dragon eyes as he was on top of you. he hit your g-spot, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut.

“i said look at me. come on, be a good girl for daddy." he put his hand around your throat, and you stared into his eyes, which were fully darkened with lust. you could only lay there and take it, watching him as you were entangled in each other.

seokjin: "take your clothes off. now." you looked to see if he was joking, but there was no humor in seokjin's eyes. you gulped and nodded, shakily removing your top and pants. you were left in your lacy bra and panties, hugging your torso. seokjin tossed you on the bed, quickly stripping and positioning himself on top of you. his hips rested against your clothed pussy, his boner pushing against you.

he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, then kissed harshly down your jaw and neck, leaving hickies all over. moans of ecstasy escaped your mouth, and you needed him inside you. "please seokjin, i need you..." you whimpered. "beg for it," he challenged. "please fuck me, daddy."

he grinned darkly, then pushed into you fully with no warning. you threw your head back as he began pounding into you, not giving you time to adjust. sounds of your wetness and skin echoed, along with loud moans from both of you. his large hand wrapped around your throat, something he loved doing to you, and watched you face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

yoongi: "i'm going to fucking ruin you," yoongi said, eyes narrowing and unbuttoning his shirt. "get on the fucking bed." you dared not contest his orders, and you stripped, sitting on the bed. he grabbed handcuffs from the drawer and bound each wrist above you to the headboard. he climbed on top of you and pushed your legs apart.

he dipped two fingers into your already dripping pussy, pumping them. "my my, already so wet for me, like the little slut you are." he lined himself up at your entrance and pushed in, making you yelp. he felt so good, stretching you out.

you moaned, and he began pounding into you. not before long, you were screaming out his name and coming around his cock, walls clenching. your wetness spilled around your thighs as you shook from your orgasm. when you finally came down from it, yoongi said, "i'm nowhere near done with you, whore. i'm just getting started."

hoseok: "you like it that much, hmm?" hoseok said with a devilish grin on his face. you nodded with tears in your eyes as he pounded into you, hands pinning your wrists above your head on the bed.

you lay there, head thrown back, taking his dick as best you could. his hips hit yours with every thrust, making your back arch. he nibbled on your neck, leaving love marks that he would later admire. he brought a hand down to your clit, massaging it with his thumb at first, then giving it a light slap.

"i'm going to come," you choked out. "don't you dare," he said, pulling out, making you whine at the loss of fullness. "so needy," he tsked, watching you squirm beneath him. he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock until you were begging, and he went right back to fucking you.

jimin: "you're so messy," jimin said, voice purring against the soft skin of your thighs. you had just come over his tongue, juices flowing messily down the sides of your inner thighs. "just for me..." he mumbled, nipping at your skin. you blushed at the mess you had made, but it didn't stop him.

he flipped you over and gave your ass a few smacks, making your pussy throb even more. he pushed his hard length into you, his hands gripping either cheek. as he thrust into you at a fast pace, you could only let out breathy moans as he ruined your already sensitive pussy.

he finally let out his own groans as he came, releasing inside of you, adding to the mess you had made. the feeling of his warm cum inside you brought you over the edge, making you scream and shudder once more, this time around his cock.

taehyung: "do you need to use your safeword, darling?" taehyung said as he thrust into you. you were in so much pleasure that you were whimpering. you shook your head, tears in the corners of your eyes. "good girl," he said, keeping a hand around your throat.

he turned you around so you were on your hands and knees, and he gave your ass a slap, watching it jiggle. he used his hands to spread your ass open wider, and he pushed his tongue into you. you let out ungodly moans as he ate you out from behind, his hands caressing your butt and thighs, occasionally slapping.

"taehyung, i—" you said shakily, ready to come. "don't come yet, you'll do that when i say so." it was too late, and you were shaking in orgasm. taehyung tsked in disapproval and picked you up, throwing you over his knee. with your ass in the air once again, he began delivering slaps, stinging but hurting so good.

jungkook: "look how good you take it," jungkook said as he thrust into you from behind, your ass in the air. the sound of your skin slapping against his filled the room. you felt so stretched out around his cock as he slid in and out of you repeatedly.

"i said look," he said, pulling your hair and making you look at the mirror in front of the bed, letting you see jungkook as he fucked you. you couldn't stop thinking about how erotic this was, watching yourself be fucked, and you came closer to your orgasm.

"don't you dare come, you little slut," he said, gripping your hair tighter. "you come when i say so, understood?" you nodded, gripping the bedsheets as tears formed in your eyes. "that's a good girl," he said, slapping your ass with a smirk on his lips.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

This wasn't supposed to happen, but I'm glad it did.

(2-5)

Short story # 10

Words - 587

Fandom(?) - Type O Negative (Band)

Pairing - Pater Steele X Reader

Summary - Imagine being Peter's best friend, and one night you both were desperate for the touch of another. So you two end up having sex, and you become pregnant with twins. Informing him of this news before he goes out on stage weeks later.

Warning(s) - Cussing.

📝Note(s) - This is a story I wrote ages ago on my Wattpad, and I finally decided to post it here as well. Enjoy.

Pt.) 1 - Pt.) 2 - Pt.) 3 - Pt.) 4 - Pt.) 5

---Three weeks later---

(From part one)

(Y/n) sighed sitting in her car, in the hospital parking lot. The news still ringing in her ears, as tears pricked at her eyes. "God he's going to hate me!" She cried out as the tears started falling. Groaning annoyed when her phone started ringing. "Hello?" She answered sniffling as quietly as she could. "(Y/n) what's wrong?" Peter panicked. "Oh nothing's wrong I'm just dicing up onions, you know how they effect me." She faked a laugh, Peter didn't believe her, but he knew not to pry. "So what can I help you with?" She asked choking back her tears. "I was calling to see if you'd like to come to our show in California."

Peter shrugged despite her not being able to see him. "When are you guys leaving?" She asked wiping away a stray tear. "Next Thursday." He bit his lip hoping she would agree. "Okay I'll have to let Stacey know that she'll be in charge of the restaurant." She nodded jotting down a quick reminder note. "Great I'll pick you up Thursday at 6am, the flights at 7:40." Peter smiled excited that she agreed to go, not having the opportunity to hang out since that night. "Okay bye." She smiled faintly hanging up the phone after he said goodbye. "Shit." She sighed resting her head on her steering wheel. "I have to tell him, sooner or later. Fuck!" She cried out again letting her emotions get the better of her.

---Skip to Thursday---

(Y/n) sighed setting her bag on the couch, where the deed had taken place. Placing a hand on her stomach she felt nausea thinking that he'll hate her. The knock at the door made her jump moving her hand as Peter walked in. "Hey you ready to go?" He smiled walking up to her. "Yeah come on." She smiled, picking up her bag. "Let me." Peter laughed warmly, taking the bag from her. "Thanks." She hummed following him out of the house.

During the flight (Y/n) had gotten sick multiple times blaming it on flying, but Peter knew better having flown with her a few times. "Are you okay?" Peter asked rubbing her back as she filled her third doggy bag. "Yeah it's just been awhile since I've flown." He nodded still not believing her. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Peter suggested tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah that sounds like a good idea." She nodded sitting back in her seat.

Once he was certain she was asleep Peter felt her forehead for a fever, but her temperature felt normal. So he grabbed her purse and rummaged through a little, wondering if she was sick or if she wrote something about it down. But he found nothing and put her bag away, frowning deep in thought about what could be wrong. 'She must have eaten something that was a little off.' He thought to himself, chalking it up to just that.

When (Y/n) finally woke up they were just starting to land, and her stomach felt a million times better. "Morning." Peter joked. "Morning." She mumbled back stretching a little. "Wanna get some food after this or do you want to go straight to the hotel?" Peter asked as people began filing off the plane. "Let's pick up some food and go to the hotel." (Y/n) smiled her stomach growling a little. "Okay." Peter agreed grabbing their bags from the over head.

[travellingarmy]

║Venti║ Stars (R)

Requested from Wattpad.

Female reader as requested.

Warning: •Those who does not know what R-rated means, it simply means that it is restricted to children under 17 (according to google).

•This will most likely be crap because I still don't know how to write NSFW oneshots.

Word count: 2.1k

---

"Just - hic - one more, Master Diluc!" Filled with the nightlife atmosphere in Angel's Share, Venti decided to join as well for the sake of sharing the same joy every Mondstadtian holds.

"You do know that these aren't free.." Diluc grumbles, a look of irritation visible on his face. "And don't you think you've had enough? You've had 33 glasses now."

"Ah, I can never get enough of Master Diluc's amazing brew!" the small bard exclaims. Diluc's face remained unchanged by the complement and went to make another glass for him. "You better pay for these."

"Haha, oh, Master Diluc, aren't you the jokester." Venti giggles. "I'm not joking," Diluc plainly said. "Haha, oh well.. Anyway.." Sounds of chatter drown out the taller male's warning that night by a loud bard who was starting to become tipsier with each drink.

After a couple more drinks- actually, it totalled to 50- Venti was now showing signs of passing out with his head on the counter, aside from occasional giggles and hiccups. Diluc grumbles in complete disbelief. Now that the bard was drunk, there was no way he would listen to his words.

An irritated sigh left the tavern owner's lips, seeing as he could do nothing about it. "I'll make sure you pay for it tomorrow so just go home," Diluc said to the bard who luckily listened, walking drunkenly out the tavern. "Thanks, Master Diluc!"

The cold air of the night brushed past the skin of the male, giggling as it tickles him. Oh how much he loves the wind so much.

Tonight, Venti did not go home- if he even has one- and instead, walk straight out of the city's gate; heading towards Starsnatch Cliff where he knew someone was sitting there all in her lonesomeness.

"(Y/N)!" the bard cheery voice made its way to your ears, making you turn to look at him. He waves and drunkenly giggles. "Venti, what are you doing here?"

"Hehe, I thought that my goddess wouldn't be asleep at this time and was here~" he answers, sitting down beside you. One sniff of him and your face wrinkled as if you were smelling a garbage site. "Ew, you went to the tavern again!?"

"Ehe." He shrugs, eyes closing into crescents as he smiled. You shook your head and brought your knees close to your chest, hugging it. You did not want to further push about the boring topic as it was quite often he would try to get wine from Diluc so silence was the only thing you could do.

You look at the stars in awe, a small smile tugging the corner of your lips. "It's quite nice today-- even the weather," you stated randomly. Venti leans back, using his arms as support. He took a glance at your soft figure before averting it to the sky you were seeing. "Even if it was cold, I would control the wind to make it warm for you," he points out, a smile of his own visible on his face.

In the midst of another silence, Venti's drunken state had his eyes started to wander on you, eyes tracing your face down to every detail. Your eyes that were half-lidded, your nose that was ever so his favourite feature, your lips-- oh let us not get into detail as to how much he loves those lips. Soon, his eyes wandered down to your neck and the strands of hair resting on it to tease him.

It might just be him being drunk and deluded or the atmosphere, but something in him wanted to do more than just looking at you.

With that being said, his hands slowly encircled your waist and drew you closer to him so that he could rest his chin on your shoulders. To you, it was just him wanting to hold you; nothing too suspicious and you continued to dismiss him.

However, that innocent thought was no longer when you felt his hands rub your sides in a slow and lustful manner. "V, Venti..!" you stutter, eyes widening as you look at him from the corner of your eyes.

He hums, eyes closed. "What is it, (Y/N)?" his voice still holding the same cheeky persona as his smile just grew wider. "U, um..!!" Your words died out on your tongue, the sudden rise of heat too overwhelming for you.

His lips made their way to your earlobe. "What's wrong, (Y/N)? Are you unwell?" he asks, a smirk replacing his playful smile. You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes, unsure of what to do as you felt something in your stomach. It was like a fluttering feeling when you see your crush, but quite different.

"Do you.. Want me to help you, (Y/N)?" he breathlessly asks and went to nibble the sensitive part of your ears. A whimper that escaped your throat failed you which just urge the male further. His lips then slowly made their way to your neck and he was suddenly washed with the intoxication of your smell.

Not waiting for a reaction, he starts off by licking your neck and soon, sucking it hard enough to leave a mark. Once again, another whimper left you. You felt embarrassed by the sounds you had made, but the growing heat in the atmosphere was too much for you to fight.

One of his hands made its way down your body, rubbing your thighs as the other massages one of your breasts. Your chests start to expand wider with each breath you take.

Venti's hands soon returned to your chest and began to unbutton your shirt ever so skillfully. Once it was fully undone to the last button, he moves in front of you, pushing you down the grass and hovering on top of you.

His eyes were filled with lust and craved for you and your body. Hungrily, he smashes his lips onto yours and had a full heated session. He licked the bottom of your lips and you obliged, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to adventure inside, winning dominance.

He went back and suck the other side of your neck, also leaving a mark there as his hands unclip your bra, kneading your breast between his fingers.

At that point, heat, too, filled your body and made your mind hazy, letting out a moan. Soon, his lips trailed downwards and took the other breast in his mouth. He continued to do so and switched to give the same attention to the other.

His hand went lower, pulling your skirt down to your thighs. Teasingly, he rubs his fingers on your clothed cunt and you moaned yet again. "Hehe, you are so naughty, (Y/N)~ Already this wet for me?" he says, continuing to run through the article.

Soon, he had enough of the teasing and pulled down your last piece of clothing, leaving you fully exposed to the cool air of the night while he was still fully clothed.

"Tell me, (Y/N), what do you want me to do~?" he asks, pressing his cold fingers on your cunt, making you whimper. When you didn't say anything, he leaned closer to your ears and whispered, "If you don't tell me.." He moves his fingers teasingly. "I could just leave it here~"

"N, no..!" You shot your eyes wide open, revealing your desperation and lust. "Hm~? Then tell me, what is it that you want me to do?" He smiles and his eyes were overshadowed with a dark playfulness.

"P, please.. I, I want your fingers.. In me.." you say, a bit embarrassed at the dirty words that left your tongue. Venti chuckles, but answered to your wish, plunging one finger inside which made you moan. Urged on by the sound, he entered a second one. "Look at you~ So greedy for my touch."

You weren't listening to his words as he starts pumping his fingers, slow at first to make you just whimper. "What do you want me to do now, (Y/N)?" he asks once again. "Is this too slow for you?"

"Please.. G, go faster..!" Again, listened to your wish and started to pump faster, adding two more fingers in the mix. He returns to attack your breast and bit your nipples and his free hand went to massage the other.

The stimulation was too much for you, being touched everywhere soon made a knot inside of you that was waiting to be snapped at any moment. "V, Venti..!" That was all he needed to hear for him to stop, moving away from you.

You look at him, confused and upset, but that was soon answered as he stood up and pulled both his pants and undergarments down. "(Y/N), why don't you be a good girl and repent?" he beckons you to go on your knees.

You listened, getting on your knees and bringing your face closer to his cock that was dripping with precum. "Well? Don't tell me you don't wish to repent." You gulped and slowly bring your lips to the tip of his dick, licking the precum off of it.

You felt him shudder from above which urged you on. You opened your mouth and brought half of it inside your mouth, earning a groan from the male.

You then started to suck on his cock and another moan erupted from his vocal cords, putting a gentle hand on your head. You only sucked halfway of it and pumped the rest, not wanting to choke.

When it has gotten to a point that was much to his pleasure, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head; pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. You moaned on his cock, feeling it touch the back of your mouth and made you gag.

"Don't stop now, (Y/N). After all, you want to be forgiven right?" He tugs on your hair and you continued. Venti became a moaning mess, guiding your head as he does so. And soon, you felt his cock twitch inside you. You suck him faster, wanting to help him in his release.

Followed by a long moan, he fills your mouth with his juice, keeping your head locked on his dick so that you don't waste a single drop.

Once you gulped all of them down, he pulls away. "Aren't you a good girl~?" he coos. "You deserve a reward so why don't you get on your hands and knees for me, hm?"

You listened, wanting to get your own release as well. He got behind you and you felt excitement wash through you and the knot that was still there.

He put his hands on your breasts, giving it a little squeeze. "Are you sure about this, (Y/N)?" he whispers in your ear. "You can always tell me to stop, okay?" You nod.

With that, he moved his wet cock inside you. You whimpered at the overwhelming foreign heat that entered you. Venti was patient with you and waited for you to adjust to the feeling.

"P, please move.." you say breathlessly after a while. Venti listened and started to enter and leave your hole, building up his stimulation once more.

Moans, pants, and lust filled that night and at each thrust, he went faster and faster as you grip onto the grass, feeling your legs numbing. "Harder, Venti..!" you cried out, the knot close to breaking.

His grip on your waist was for sure going to leave marks on your skin, but that didn't matter to your right now.

He pulls out completely but quickly slams it back inside you. Your head jerks up and moaned loudly. The sight of the was stars blurring as you were being pounded into and drool went down the corner of your mouth.

Venti's thrust became sloppier and sloppier by the second. He buried his face on your shoulders and bit it hard enough that it drew blood, but you were too focused on the pleasure that you hadn't noticed.

"V, Venti, I--" At that moment, the knot snapped and you came on his dick. Venti thrusts a couple more times before he, too, came inside you, groaning as his second wave was finally released.

He fell on top of you, both your legs too weak to carry the weight of your bodies. He didn't take himself out just yet and listen to the two of you pant.

"Let's go home, hm?" he suggests between heavy breathing. You nod and watch as he pulls out, letting out a whimper at the sudden emptiness inside you.

He dresses himself up first and later helped you since you were unable to do it and carried you home. "I love you, (Y/N)." He kisses the side of your head, watching you slowly fall asleep.

---

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda

warning/s: none

author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.

Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.

"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."

I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.

"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.

"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."

After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.

"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.

"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"

"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?

"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."

Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."

"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.

"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that. 

When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.

Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).

She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.

"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."

A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.

Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."

I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.

"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"

She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."

I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.

"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."

Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."

Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."

She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.

"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."

Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.

She was just so damn beautiful.

—

"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.

I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."

We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.

"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."

Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."

I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."

He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"

I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."

He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"

I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.

"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.

My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.

Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?

"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"

Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.

"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"

"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"

As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.

Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.

Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."

But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"

Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."

He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century.

With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.

"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.

How could she be dating such a dick?

—

Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.

"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.

I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.

"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.

I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"

I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.

She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."

I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.

"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."

"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.

"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."

I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.

"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."

Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.

"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."

"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"

As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."

Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"

She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.

"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"

This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe."

She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.

When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.

"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"

I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."

She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.

"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"

"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"

After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.

"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."

The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.

"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"

Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."

He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."

I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"

He laughed. "C'mon."

Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.

"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.

I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.

"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."

He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"

Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."

"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"

"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"

I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."

He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"

"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."

He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."

I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.

"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.

I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.

"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.

He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.

"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.

He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"

"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."

He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"

I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"

"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.

"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.

Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"

I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."

He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."

Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.

"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"

"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"

"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."

"Pietro."

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I grinned.

He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.

"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.

She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.

"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.

"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

"And you're a sore loser!"

We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.

"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.

"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.

I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.

"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.

"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.

Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.

"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.

By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.

"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.

"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"

"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."

I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.

The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.

We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.

"Do you like my brother?"

It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"

"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."

She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?

We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."

"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."

"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."

"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."

"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."

"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."

I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.

[kerie-prince]

clumsy

Hermione Granger x fem Slytherin!reader (fluff)

requested: (@chokemepansy) im terrible at requesting because i blank on ideas BUT anything for hermione please <3 take your time ily 💓

warnings: a single curse word, but mainly just soft hours

summary: Hermione has her very first date with you at Hogsmeade (song inspo from Fergie's Clumsy) (pardon my lame ass summary)

a/n: ty for requesting, luv 🥺 hope you like it! i made the reader slytherin just bc of you <3 and yes, i put in an outfit inspo but it's not like the cringy ones from wattpad

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

You came to love the smell of parchment and books. The sound of pages being turned, the feeling of a new book in your hands. You loved them because it made you think of Hermione.

Merlin, you were infatuated with everything about her. The excitement in her voice when she talked about her favorite books, the small paper cuts on her fingers from turning the pages – she didn't mind them as it was normal for her – and the look on her face when she received praise from professors.

She was all you thought about and you wanted to go to the top of the Astronomy Tower and yell out "I LOVE HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER" for the whole school to hear. And you were positive she felt the same. Hermione would refuse to let go of your hands when you walked together from class and on some occasions, you'd catch her staring at you during study sessions. Just like she was doing now.

"Miss Granger, for the last time, I am asking you what are the contents of polyjuice potion?" Snape was hovered over her desk. Hermione jumped in her seat and turned to face the brooding professor. Your Slytherin housemates who sat at the back of class laughed at her startled state as she named the contents. You looked back and glared at them all. When Snape left your table and continued his lecture, you leaned closer to Hermione and whispered as low as you could, “Are you okay? You seem kind of distracted,” you noticed.

“Y-yes, I'm fine,” Hermione stuttered. Snape excused the class and Hermione waited for you to be done packing your things just so she could hold your hand to the Great Hall. “Are we still going to Hogsmeade on Saturday?” you asked.

“Harry’s got detention with McGonagall for ‘ accidentally’ turning Crabbe into a water goblet in class,” Hermione used her free hand to make air quotations, “and Ron’s busy with Lavender that day.” She had a sad look on her face, thinking that they wouldn't be able to go to Hogsmeade after all. You picked up on it and had an idea. “So, just the two of us then?”

Hermione’s chest became warm, “Okay. It's a date.” Your eyes slightly bulged out and to Hermione, you had an indistinguishable smile, “I mean, not like a date date, but a girls date.” You weren't sure if she meant it like that, but you laughed at her stumbling her words. The always composed girl becoming a cute, blubbering mess for you. Not that you knew for sure it was because for you but you’d given it a lot of thought.

She never held Harry’s hand like she did yours unless he was upset about something and she was comforting him. And she certainly never held Ron’s hand. Nor does she ever hug him knowing Lavender would go ballistic. Not that she’d ever want to. He was her best friend, yeah but she had never gotten used to it. They both had an unspoken thing to not hug.

“Sounds fun,” you chirped, “can’t wait for it.” You gave her a lingering hug before going to your table. You sat in between your best friends Pansy and Daphne. Pansy had a smirk on her lips once you were in her line of sight, “Did you finally tell Granger?” You knew what she was talking about and nudged her arm with your elbow, “Shut it.” The two girls chuckled and gave each other knowing looks. “I might tell her on Saturday,” you disclosed.

They had matching shocked faces; for nearly a year, they’ve watched you pace around their shared dorm debate with yourself whether or not to tell her about how you feel. You’d have a sparkle in your eyes every time you talked about her and nearly spent every day with her. They weren't upset about it. In fact, they couldn't wait to see you two together. But you were unexpectedly insecure by thinking of the worst case scenario in which she’d reject you.

“That’s great, Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you. I know everything will turn out well,” Daphne supported. Pansy nodded and pointed to Daphne as to say ‘Me too’. You grabbed the hands of both girls and held them tightly, “Thanks, girls. I love you guys.” You wrapped an arm around both of them and brought them in for a hug. Daphne returned it while Pansy made a fake coughing sound. “I can’t b-breathe,” she exaggerates. You held on for a couple seconds more before letting go and started eating. “Okay, so how is this happening?” Pansy asked.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade together on Saturday,” you inquired. “So the whole lot is going as well?” Pansy was talking about Harry and Ron of course.

“No, just the two of us alone,” you replied, taking a bite of the chicken on your plate.

“You mean, this is a date?” Daphne exclaimed. “We’re going to help pick an outfit, no questions asked.” She had a stern look that dared you to talk back. As sweet as Daphne is, once her mind is set to something, she doesn't budge. You accepted it and was met with her usual warm smile. Inside, you were ecstatic and couldn't wait for Saturday. Your crush has gone on for too long, and you were tired of waiting.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Your dorm mates got you up at the crack of dawn. And by crack of dawn, it was actually 10 am at most. They made you change into every outfit they picked out which totaled in 8. You appreciated everything they were doing, but some of the outfits were too much for a day in Hogsmeade. Daphne picked out tennis skirts with cropped argyle sweaters. Pansy picked short dresses that stopped at your mid-thigh and black wool turtlenecks to go over them. They had completely different aesthetics which is what probably made them perfect friends.

You settled on something casual; a thick striped long sleeve polo with light blue jeans and white trainers. It was going to be a nice spring day and you didn't want to wear something that would be too short and you get cold later. Daphne did your hair in two French plaits and Pansy did your makeup modestly. Once you were done, it was noon and you rushed to meet Hermione for your ‘girl date’.

She took the air straight from your lungs. She looked more breathtaking than the night of the Yule Ball. You distinctly remember being incredibly jealous of Viktor Krum and beat yourself up for not asking her before he did. But now, if he was here, you were sure that the famous Quidditch athlete would be jealous of you.

Hermione’s usually wild hair was tamed into smooth wavy curls that framed her delicate face. She wore a floral print button up that was definitely new as you’ve never seen it before. Or did she save it just for you? Her navy jeans hugged her ankles and she donned light pink flats. And probably for the first time since the Yule Ball, she had mascara and lipgloss on. Casual, but perfect.

Your face was flushed, and you weren't sure if she was also blushing or if maybe she was just wearing blush. “Shall we?” You reached out to grab her hands – her soft hands – and waited for her response. She didn't say anything when she laced her fingers with yours and started walking on the path to Hogsmeade. Hermione was about to say that you looked pretty when she tripped over a small rock on the pathway. “Are you okay?” you expressed concern. She was still holding onto your hand as she steadied herself up, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

You snorted and had to hold the butterbeer in your mouth, “Ron did what?” Hermione laughed as she told you how Lavender exploded on Ron for forgetting their anniversary and when he tried to make it up by giving her chocolates that he got from his older brothers, Lavender instantly grew a huge chin that drooped over her neck. Ron had gotten so mad at them and in unison, they told him ‘Why’d you think we’d ever give you real ones?’

“So that’s why no one has seen her for a couple days!” you noted. She was nodding as she laughed. You could only imagine what it was like to see it in person. Poor Lav. You went back and forth talking about whatever went on since the last time you were together.

Hermione went on talking about a new book she read about over the winter holiday. The way she expressed her emotions and passion for it made you fall for the Gryffindor girl more. When you hadn't said anything, she stopped and lowered her head, “I’m boring you, aren't I?”

You sat straight in your chair and fumbled your words before reaching out to grab her hand from across the table, “No, no, no, of course not. I could never be bored of you, I love you.” Your eyes widened. You didn't exactly expect to let it slip out like that, but you studied her reaction to see if you could leave it at that or otherwise. She sat still with a poker face. “Y-you’re my best friend, Mione–”

“I love you, too,” she confessed. “Huh?” Please, please, please tell me I heard her right. You didn't get to fully process what she said because after a few seconds, she gathered all her courage and reached over the table to give you a quick peck on your lips. It would've been a sweet moment hadn't she accidentally knocked her glass over in the process. Everyone in the Three Broomsticks had their eyes on you, Hermione’s face beet red and lowered out of embarrassment. You tried cleaning the mess and out of nowhere, Hermione ran out. Fuck this you thought as you ran after her.

“Mione, wait!” She hadn't gone far and luckily for you, she listened. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes averted from yours. “Where are you going? Aren’t we on a date?” Confidence had finally kicked in when you asked her. Hermione’s breath hitched. She couldn't see anything in your face that showed you were joking. Because you weren't. “Yes,” she grabbed your hands and started walking towards the other shops in the small village. Until once again, she nearly fell back when she nearly slipped over another rock on the ground. You supported her back up and giggled, “You’re so clumsy.”

—

requests open!

[yellowflowerbub]

Uncertainty

Thank you to the patient soul on wattpad who requested this from me. Thnx bubba<3

Paring: Akkun x Flirty Reader

Warning: Angst

Enjoy the fiction!

How could he possibly exist around you any longer? Your constant sexual comments seemingly directed towards him. The faint lingering touches you’d give him. The way he would catch you staring and then look away as if nothing happened.

All of it. Every last breath and motion drove him critically insane.

Although you did those intolerable things to him, that wasn’t the part the drove him half past certifiable. It was how you behaved the same way around everyone. He was convinced you had balls of steel from how blatantly bold you could be.

Sometimes you'd purposefully sit just a little too close to where your thighs lightly graze each other then get up and berate some other guy about how handsome they were until their shoulders up was bright crimson. Or if you felt a bit more "out there" that day you would give him back hugs or even bite his ear lobe just to ignite a good reaction from him.

As much as he claimed to hate the unanticipated affection, it was something he looked forward to daily. He'd had his eyes set on you ever since you introduced to him straight from Takemichi. The way you gripped his hand, never faltering eye contact even after his hand left the warmth of your palm had his heart beating out of his chest.

You were a master of your craft.

You could control and alter his emotions at your own will. You could always keep track of how he felt in his head and his every mood was constantly portrayed on his handsome features. He was easy to read in short. Though it was true, the one thing that you couldn't decipher was who he loved.

Of course you could see his reactions towards your affections but Akkun always put his pride first. He would pull away from your advances when others were present and a look of disgust would be plastered all over his face. Figurative pain and hurt struck your heart but you'd never make that vocal. You still have no clue why you never just spoke your mind and told him directly of your true intentions. Fear of rejection maybe.

Funny enough, Akkun felt the exact same way. It was imprinted into his mind that you did this with everyone. It was just a joke.

Eventually after months of attempting to vocalize you feeling you finally came out. But he laughed.

Laughed right in your face.

You stood there momentarily in shock. Eyes wide from the completely unforeseen reaction. Despite your eyes burning ferociously, the evident lump lodged in your throat and the sharp pang in your chest you chuckled along with him; the laugh being entirely false.

Even though your heart was still disorganized and in shambles, you continued to pursue Akkun. You gave the boy evocative compliments in addition to the amped up physical attention. You constantly offered your hand to him if he seemed to struggle with even the simplest things. You held the door open for him every given chance and began making an extra onigiri for him every morning. They may not have been the best tasting rice Akkun had ever had but they were laced with effort and love.

He noticed your sudden change in behavior almost immediately and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it. Though being relatively babied might not be the most enjoyable thing in the world, it still made his heart skip from your ever lasting effort. It made him ponder on what could've been the cause of it all.

Then it hit him. The confession.

He felt like absolute shit. Was it really his fault though? You'd been treating everyone with the same teasing tenancies. Yet, he couldn't help but feel guilty. His brain wasn't even able to comprehend the idea of your love completely disregarding possible truth to your words and tearing right through your heart with a sound that would be angelic in any other case. His face furrowed with extreme discontent. He felt disgusted, disgusted in himself. Disgusted with himself. Disgusted in his actions.

He had to make it up to you; somehow some way.

That night he had immense trouble sleeping. Twisting and turning on his bed. Guilt kept jolting him awake every time his consciousness threatened to rest. It stuck with him until morning.

That same day, you walk to school by his side as usual but a great amount had changed. Not only was no one else walking with the both of you but Akkun looked ghastly and irritably exhausted. The aura around him was also very... negative.

"You look a little less handsome today, something bothering you?" You ask, simultaneously taking his hand in your own.

Akkun looks directly into your eyes and squeezes your hand, "I want to apologize."

You take your other empty hand and brush away the hair that rested on his forehead, "Regret doesn't look good on you, sweet cheeks."

He sighs, "I'm serious."

"So am I." You retort but still dial down the intimacy, letting his hand fall down to his side.

"It's about you, well obviously. What I meant to say is it's about what you said or more how I responded to what you said." He averts his eyes as you continue to gaze at him in curiosity.

"I'm not sure what your referring to..."

The boy sucks his teeth making a "tch" sound with his mouth, "W-when you'd confessed to me." Your breath hitches at simple mention of the incident.

"M'kay. W-what about it?" You ask, mentally curing yourself for stuttering.

"You weren't joking, were you?"

A silence comes over the two of you after Akkun catches you nodding in his perennial vision.

"Sorry. I just assumed that you didn't genuinely think about me in that way which was wrong of me," He apologizes, still not looking at you, "What I should've said then was that I like you too."

[yunkiwii]

—potions gone wrong—

☆ hogwarts au ☆

pairing: bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader | ft. jeongin and mentions of minho

supportive oc: angela, female

genre: sfw. comedic and chaotic, may be considered fluff by some people

wc: 2.4k

warnings: hints of jealousy, mentions of illegal (magical world wise) actions, potion-induced obsession

a/n: i'm pretty sure that in the harry potter series amortentia doesn't work the way i described here, but let's just ignore that shall we? ♡

summary: two boys decide to make a love potion to conquer the crush of one of them. unfortunately, something seems to have gone wrong and y/n needs to step in..

shout out to: ficscafe prompt dialogue event ♡

↳ "I'll give you 20 bucks if you kiss me."

↳ "I don't think that's legal, but we can work around it."

↳ "Shut up, this isn't a wattpad fanfic"

Completely imersed in the pile of books you gathered in the library in order to try and understand more about potions, you get startled when a boy throws himself into the chair next to you, a yellow stripped tie hitting your head in the process.

"I'll give you 20 bucks if you kiss me."

"What? No!", you give him a disgusted and confused look before digging your head into the old dusty pages again.

"Come on!! Angela keeps coming to me trying to snuggle and kiss me and-", as dramatic as he is, Hyunjin pretends he is going to be sick, exaggerating on the nasty sounds way too close to your ear.

"What? Why?", your bestfriend finally caught your full attention as you turn to face him, "Wait, Angela as in like, Angela your major crush perfect-Angela? Weren't you supposed to like, I don't know, enjoy the attention?" But then the face he makes, his cheeks turning shades of pink as his gaze drifts away from you and he sinks down in his chair in embarrassment, realization hits you, "No! No you did not! Are you like what, dumb?", you flick is head inducing a loud squeal to come out his mouth.

"It was Jeongin's idea!", his voice three pitches higher than before, "And I can't be that dumb if I managed to make that stupid love potion work. But that's beside the point, will you do it or not?"

"Do what? Kiss you? And how will that help you dimwit?", you went to flick his head again because, to be fair, he deserved it, but Hyunjin knew you too well and held your hand in time to stop you from hurting his pretty face, as he likes to state.

"To break the curse! Make her give up on me by making her think we're together or something!"

"What curse? There is no curse! And she isn't even thinking right now, she might just kill me out of jealousy!", at this point you're pratically yelling at each other and are forced to leave the library, resuming this odd conversation on your way to Ravenclaw's common room.

"I still can't believe you let yourself go with what Jeongin tells you. He's evil you know?"

"Should've guessed by the green scarf huh?", you slap his arm lightly, not very fond of the jokes made regarding the fact your other best friend is a Slytherin.

"So, how do I solve this?", he basically pleas at you as you sit down on the desk next to the fireplace, as far away as possible from your housemates. Every two in three students has made, or attempted to make, some sort of potion or spell to have something in their advantage. However, amortentia wasn't just "some potion", and if some were to find out that Hwang - head in space - Hyunjin succeded at his attempt they would never leave his poor ass alone, so for now your plan was to keep this subject as low-key as possible.

"Marry her." you say nonchalantly while, without his knowledge, already looking up all about amortentia, its possible side effects and how long it would take to wear off - if ever-, receiving a whine in return.

"It was really fun at first, you know? The flirting was cute, the smooches were great," and boy he put some emphasis on that adjective,"but now it's like she's obsessed with me! She's clingy and talks with that annoying voice and I can't seem to get rid of her!" Hyunjin throws himself face down into the old couch and whines again, words muffled by the pillow where he burried his face. "She's probably standing right outside the door just now!"

"Wait, what do you mean it was fun at first? How long has this been going on Hwang Hyunjin? And why am I only knowing of this now?", you turn around in your chair way too fast, hitting with your knee on the other chair next to you before facing the mop of brown hair all spread around the blue pillow.

"Well, I barely ever saw you all week!", the boy turns his head just the minimum amount to look at you, "You're either with your nose buried in those old books, or with your hands all over Lee Minho! Not my fault you no longer have time for your friends..."

"First of all," you pull out the pillow he's laying on, his face falling on the black cushion as a few curses leave his lips, "lower your tone! I did not spend the week with my hands all over Minho, I am tutoring him in potions!"

"Which you're not that good at, that's why you walk everywhere with those fat books..." Hyunjin rolls his eyes at you as he recovers the pillow from your hands again, "Don't deny it (y/n), you've got the hots for him!"

"Oh sweetie, I sense jealousy in your tone... is that why you gave Angela a poorly made potion?", you show him the page you've been reading between the backs and forths of your not so relevent argument, only for him to realize the potion should've worn off two days ago. Instead, it only got worse. "Perhaps you could use some reading too huh?"

The boy rips the book from your hands, grunting between his teeth sounds you doubted to be words as he makes his way out, only to shut the door as soon as he opens it, squealing loudly when his eyes meet the ones from the Gryffindor's brunette standing right in the middle of the hallway.

"I'm telling you (y/n), she won't leave me alone! It's like she's obsessed!", Hyunjin keeps his back against the door, afraid the girl could open it by some miracle driven by her potion induced feelings, hence she doesn't have the password.

"Well, you see Hyunjin... that's because she is! And it's your fault, you should simply face it..."

"Oh I'm going the kill Jeongin...", the boy grunts ignoring your words completely as the whines coming from the other side of the door overlapped them, "Can you go get him? Or get rid of her?"

You make your way to the door Hyunjin refuses to unblock and, when words and pushes didn't make the tall boy move, you had to resort to your wand, although the simple threat was more than enough for him to make way for you. He stayed hidden in the corner as you parted the door slightly to tell the girl her beloved had disapparated from there, and she should probably look at the quidditch court. The fact she believed you only proved how strongly she was affected by the potion, since everyone knew Hyunjin would never go to a sports court by his free will and disapparating into and out Hogwarts wasn't possible at all.

As soon as the path got clear you both made your way to the shrieking shack through the whomping willow everyone was so afraid of, but that was exactly why the three of you claimed it as your secret meeting place.

Jeongin was already waiting as you sent him a message through your magic notepad when you got rid of Angela, and you had to secure Hyunjin to not throw the book at the Slytherin boy who only laughed in return. The laughter didn't last long though, because you only stopped Hyunjin so you would be the one scolding the younger one, flicking his head the same way you did to the lover boy earlier.

"Hey! What did you do that for?", the boy frowned at you rubbing his forehead.

"To bring you back to reality, so you can both fix the mess you made!"

"But what's the problem?" Jeongin looked at you with honest confusion on his face, "Is this about the potion? You know that thing wears off in like a week or so right?"

"Exactly... do the math now genius..." Hyunjin rolls his eyes before leaning his back against the spiderweb covered walls.

The three of you spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out what went wrong in the first place, you analyzing every single detail of the procedure, and the boys trying to recreate every step they took to reach the final product. But, after hours of research and theories nothing seemed to have gone wrong, well except for the exaggerated and long-lasting effect of the potion.

"We should just obliviate the poor girl..." suggested Jeongin at one point, head in his hands as a sing of withdrawal.

“I don’t think that’s legal, but we can work around it...” You agree with him closing the book you were now reading for the fifth time.

"Are you guys serious? Because that sounds great! Can we get away with it?" Hyunjin's eyes were sparkling in hope as he shifted in his seat to a more straight up position, ready to do whatever it took to get to walk in peace around the school, without being unexpectedly smooched in the cheek and squezeed into a hug every time the girl spotted him.

"No, it's a joke!" You both sigh at your friend's desperation before calling it a day, deciding to resume your research first thing in the morning.

As per usual, you met with the boys for breakfast at the dining hall, though this time they weren't alone and you couldn't help out a giggle when Angela, as glued to Hyunjin as possible while feeding him something funny looking with a spoon, winked at you as soon as you sat in front of her and next to Jeongin. The latter looked almost as horrified as the pampered boy, and you had to focus to try and keep yourself from bursting into laughter before the scene that was unfolding in front of you.

Hyunjin looked like an annoyed pouty baby slumped in his chair - as an attempt to go unnoticed -, while the smiley girl, - one that seemed to have way too much energy in the morning -, pulled some strands of the boy's hair behind his ear before kissing his cheek, "You're so pretty Hyunnie-jin, and I hate to leave you," the girl pouts as she pinches his cheeks rather aggressively, "but don't worry sugarplum, I'll be waiting for you in the astronomy tower when you leave class." This time the kiss is aimed at his lips, but Hyunjin antecipates her intentions and dodges his head with a slick move, just not fast enough to be fully free of her, ending up with her lips awkwardly attached half to his jaw, half to the corner of his lip.

"So you decided to give in?" You couldn't help the grin that was forming on your face, finding it hilarious how the universe always had a way to keep things balanced.

"Shut up. I had to if I didn't want to starve myself, it was one sacrafice I was willing to take." Hyunjin furiously rubs his face with a napkin, as if it would erase the memory of the previous demonstration of affection.

"I say it's the karma, you were basically playing and manipulating her the moment you gave her the potion, now you face the consequences."

"It's like she's taking revenge..." Jeongin mumbles more to himself than to his friends, but he was still heard, and had now two pairs of eyes locked on him waiting for a further explanation to what seemed to be a pretty plausable theory. "We already concluded we didn't do anything wrong, right?"

"Yes, it's still hard to believe though..." you take a sip of your pumpking juice with a raise eybrow, honestly still impressed at how they pulled that off.

"So what if she got aware that Hyunjin gave-"

"We, Jeongin, we!! This wasn't just me okay? I just got the, uh, benefits?"

"Ok, sure, whatever... What if she became aware that we," emphasis on the pronoun as he glanced at Hyunjin, "gave her a potion and now that it wore off she is pulling this act as a pay back? Because, according to our lover boy, if it was nice at first then why would she suddenly start acting all obsessively?"

Both you and Hyunjin took a moment to reflect on this new theory, one Jeongin was really proud of as showed by his smug grin when he crossed his arms and relaxed back in his chair.

"I hate to admit it, but that makes a lot of sense... and explains why she winked at me when I got here..."

"Okay yes, she is faking it... why else would she wink at (y/n) when I'm the one she's supposed to be focused on?", the boy threw his arms up with a questionting - and slightly offended - look.

"Time for confrontation!" you were already standing up with Hyunjin following the lead, but you held yourselves back when you realized Jeongin wasn't moving, looking between the both of you still grinning.

"I've got a better idea..."

It was a terrible idea, you thought, and wanted no part in it at all so you let the boys discuss the details while you just sat there judging their poor life decisions.

The plan was for Hyunjin, instead of confronting her and get it over with as you suggested, to play along as if he too was deeply in love with her, and see who would break out of character first. As much as you tried to explain how childish and stupid the plan was, the boys simply wouldn't listen to you, convinced this was the best idea they've ever had.

Hyunjin got oddly excited about this and ran to astronomy class, already antecipating the act he would pull off when he'd see the girl waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs when he'd get out, leaving you and Jeongin alone in the dining all. The contrast of your opinions on this was pretty clear in your faces, Jeongin laughing loudly, you furrowing your brows and shaking your head in disapproval.

Then, all of a sudden, the boy stops laughing and looks at you, "What if they actually end up falling in love after all this?"

He sounded seriously concerned yet amused at the same time, while you only rolled your eyes at him before collecting your books and leaving for class as well.

"Shut up, this isn't a wattpad fanfic."

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