#sad that i’m this excited about a cookbook

[unbound-space-trash]

finally found and ordered a copy of the czech cookbook my mum has so that I’ll be able to try out more recipes

[the-traveling-rock]

There is nothing more confusing or deranged than a newly formed group of adventurers confronted with the delusion of choice. They crowd the bounty board of the Phandalin, hands reach, fingers pointing, voices rise with intensity and excitement as other voices go louder to be heard themselves. I hear tell of goblins, bandits, and even a dragon or two. You know the standard missives. I’m not saying a dragon is boring but I feel the difference between an epic and an adventure is the people taking part.

I scan over the crowd to see a group I can follow, essentially I look for people who know what they're doing.The smallest of them, a female elf, is waving their hand above their head, weakly I might add. Her other hand is cupped to her mouth asking who in the group can heal, dejected as it seems this isn’t the first time I’d intuit. The first group I heard of, I began making my way over as I see the male elf behind her taps her shoulder and I see him bend to whisper in her ear.  I see several emotions flash through her face as eyes widen, cheeks flush as crossed hands rise to cover their mouth, before they look downwards.  I hear the uncertainty of their response as she says that she’s new but supposes she could heal. 

I hate to play stereotypes but I like when I can tell what a book is when I look at it. I look at a book with a picture of lovers in embrace, that’s a romance. I see a magnifying glass and bloody knife, that’s a mystery. A picture of food, probably a cookbook. This gets more complicated with people.

It’s not even 8 minutes since we arrived before the elf rogue mentions his tragic past. There's a whole dramatic pantomime full of momentary anger, sadness, and extolling vengeance for his murdered lineage. In my opinion it appears so canned and rehearsed, but this actually is a story I hear so often that I wonder how there are elves at all. As I mused to myself, the emotion falls from his face as he looks the druid over and demands what circle she’s in. The druid meekly reiterates that she’s new but doesn’t know as she gets interrupted with his self assuredness telling her she should be Circle of the Moon. These are obvious red flags but I’ve already started writing and they're the first group that seems to be coming together the fastest as I see others turning to join the conversation.

Another elf, also a rogue, their clan murdered. Again, the same story as everyone else, but female elf. The difference is this one talks with no emotions when talking through their tragedy. I think about how I’m a half-elf but with the remarkable luck to suffer an approximate zero familicides, but I suppose one is too many. I grew up in a Neverwinter orphanage, at any rate, maybe my parents were murdered. Things just happen though, and maybe we don’t need to be so dour about it.

There’s this incredibly well dressed human man who balances that out by being incredibly hung over. We’re talking hands on knees, bent over, breathing hard and heaving. It’s super weird to see but I swear to all the Gods, he jumps up flashing the brightest smile beginning to play a song on his lute. His voice is majestic and charming as he belts out this amazing improved bardic beat that I actually think I can save this article, that I’m catching on isn’t a success. 

It starts off incredibly strong with a lovely string line with a creative use of hand drum place on the ground he hits when needed. It is a wonderful start with simple lyrics that requires nothing to recall. It is the perfect song that the dragonkin who run the bard industry could sell to pop perfection.

𝄞𝅘𝅥𝅯 Money, money, money!

Must be funny!

In the rich man's world!𝅘𝅥𝅯𝄞

To be clear, I inferred  the last word because it was that moment the bard would projectile vomit on the  male rogue when he turned his head. I’m in the middle of a metaphorical cadaver cartpile up. This is literally the worst group I’ve seen and this is my start. This is the hell the universe gave me, for thinking I could have an idea. The bard wipes his mouth off on his sleeve while the rogue seethes shaking vomit off. Then it happens.

The bard looks at all of them, registering the looks of disgust and awkward feelings of what happened. Opening his mouth he sings that which destroys my will as I resign myself to the realization that torture is no longer an option for me. 

“Same time next week?”

Shockingly, they all shrug and agree. Hopefully, they’ll do more than just talk about themselves next time.

QH

Phandalin, Late Spring

[janeykath318]

How Darcy got Bucky To Smile: A 5 +1 fic

1.The eyebrow raise

“Ohh, Janey! Guess what?” Darcy chattered, plopping the coffee down beside her deeply engrossed friend. Jane sighed and said “What, Darcy?” knowing she’d never get away with ignoring her when she was bursting with gossip.

“The Winter Soldier is here! Steve found him and he’s getting his memories back. He’s gonna live with Cap for awhile on the downlow while he recovers. Isn’t that great?”

Jane scribbled a few notes, then set down her pen and picked up the coffee, giving Darcy her full attention. Once she’d sipped the coffee and proclaimed it perfect (Jane was very particular about her coffee) she listened to Darcy’s excited report.

“Steve’ll watch out for him. Tony’s got tons of safety protocols in place, too.” Darcy countered. “I kinda want to meet him if he ever comes down this way.”

“Given his experiences with labs, I highly doubt he’ll set foot on this floor, Darcy. You’ll have to settle for ogling from afar.”

“Who said anything about ogling?” Darcy asked indignantly. “He’s a thought-to-be dead and also formerly brainwashed war hero. I would never be so disrespectful!”

But when she was introduced to the man himself three weeks later, she found herself struggling to maintain said respect. He was as tall as Steve and she could tell he was very built, despite the baggy clothes hiding his figure. Sleek brown hair framed his distinctive face and he had very nice blue-gray eyes, which were frequently darting around and scanning his surroundings.

“Hi, I’m Darcy, the science minion,” she told him. “I’m your go to expert on all things pop culture and also caffeine. Did I mention I bake for my sometimes well-behaved friends? Stick around and you might be included in the rotation.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose at the end of her little ramble and she flushed a bit, wishing she’d managed something more intelligent sounding. He didn’t seem offended, though and managed a polite “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” before Steve herded him along.

2. The wave

Jane’s prediction that Bucky would avoid the labs turned out to be correct, much to her disappointment and Darcy didn’t see the man again for an entire month. She badgered Steve into telling her what type of baked goods his friend enjoyed and she scoured old cookbooks until she found a molasses cake recipe that would be similar to what he’d had. Steve had returned the very empty pan to her with a pleased smile.

“He loved it. Said it tasted just like his ma’s.” He’d reported. “You’re a genius, Darcy.”

She laughed and wagged her finger at him.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Steve-o,” she said, feigning a haughty air.

“Not even a batch of your M and M cookies?” He said, turning on her with his pleading puppy eye look.

“Possibly, but I’ll need some more befriending Bucky tips beforehand,” she bargained. “He needs some more fun people in his life, I think. It makes me sad to see him lurking around like a lone wolf all the time.”

“I know,” Steve agreed. “It’s just gonna take time for him to trust other people.” His eyes grew sad for a moment, and Darcy wondered if he was remembering the old Bucky from long ago. Then he shook himself and smiled at her.

“If anyone can do it, Darcy, you can. I know you can,” he told her confidently. “I have a meeting now, but I will gladly give you those tips afterwards,” he told her. “Meet me back here at three?”

“It’s a plan, Cap!” she agreed.

She didn’t see Bucky for a couple days, but as she was getting off the elevator on her way to Natasha’s place, he was waiting to get on and straight up waved at her, perking up visibly. She tried not to read anything into it, but it warmed her heart.

“Thanks for the sweets, Miss Lewis,” he called after her. “Best thing I’ve had in eighty years.”

The door closed before she could reply, but she thought about that compliment for a long time.

3.The wink

Halloween in the Avengers Tower was serious business as they celebrated (barring a world-threatening crisis) with a big party and costume contest. Everyone was very secretive about their contests until the big day and even Natasha, who could easily have found out what everybody was going as if she put her mind to it, respected the unofficial code of secrecy and entered into the spirit of the season very seriously. Darcy was thrilled to be invited to the shindig, and after Jane had assured her she would take a break from science to enjoy the festivities, immediately began the difficult process of choosing a costume. She seemed to be the last one to decide on her character and was just plain stuck.

“No, Clint, I am NOT going as a sexy scientist. I’m already sexy,” she smirked at him. “And no, I am NOT going to break the code of secrecy. Now, go bother someone else.”

Inspiration finally struck wildly out of the blue one day. It was so simple, but fun. She knew Steve and Tony would get a kick out of it and probably Clint and Natasha as well. It required a bit of help from Maria Hill, who shook her head, but seemed to like the idea.

“Very cheeky, Lewis, but nice work. You look like a junior STRIKE team member. I’d work on the poker face, though.” She suggested.

“Good point. They’re all so stone-faced. I’ll have to practice my scary murder face.”

She tried to imitate Coulson’s death stare and only succeeded in making HIll laugh.

“Better get practicing, Lewis,” she added as Darcy retreated.

With just two days to go before Halloween, Darcy felt her facial expression was improving, but she still cracked too easily.

“I would be a failure as a Shield agent,” she sighed to herself. Despite her acting struggles, she was making great headway in other areas, including befriending Bucky. Even though their paths didn’t cross often, when they did meet he would always say hi or often initiate conversations, which was a pretty big deal for someone who rarely spoke to anyone outside of the six Avengers. He’d even started calling her Darcy, which really made her happy. Somehow, he made her name sound extra special when he said it and she could see just how he’d made the ladies swoon back in his heyday.

“Hey, Bucky. I need a favor,” she entreated, approaching him as he emerged from the gym.

“What can I do for you, Darcy?” was his polite, if somewhat surprised face.

“It has to do with my Halloween character. I need to learn how to do the secret agent scary poker face. Yours is unmatchable.”

“Um……thanks, I think.” Bucky replied, looking comically confused. “But what about Natasha? She’s no slouch in that department.”

“I would, but it would give away my costume and we’re keeping them secret from anyone going to the party. Steve said you weren’t planning on coming, Mr. Party Pooper.”

She made a sad face at him and Bucky looked a tad regretful.

“I won’t lie, it sounds kinda fun, but I don’t know that I’m up for that big of a group yet. But I’ll be glad to help you get into character. What are you planning on being?”

“A Shield strike team goon. Otherwise known as a jack-booted thug. I’ve got a really sweet outfit with hidden knives and spy stuff and body armor. I wanna look badass for an evening.”

“I’m sure you will, Darcy,” he told her. “And I think you’re pretty badass already. Don’t think I didn’t see the footage of you tasing those Hydra agents who came after you.”

Darcy beamed proudly.

“That was one of my most satisfying moments. Steve wouldn’t let me out of his sight for the next week, though. He’s such a worrywart.”

“That he is. Is he sweet on you?”

“Oh, no,” Darcy quickly denied merrily. “We’re bffs, but I’m pretty sure he sees me like the little sister he never had. He’s a lot of fun, but very tight-lipped about his love life, or lack thereof. Nat and I haven’t given up hope of finding him a sweetheart, though. But enough about our lovable awkward friend. Show me the ropes, Sarge.” She ordered.

They proceeded to spend the next two hours alternating between chatting and sharing stories and Bucky sharing his wisdom with Darcy, finishing with a staredown to test her ability to keep a straight face. Staring into Bucky’s intense eyes without breaking was a stern test for her, and she could feel the sweat running down the back of her neck, but she held strong until suddenly, he winked at her.

Caught off guard, She blushed and dropped her eyes.

“You dirty cheater!” she accused. “You can’t just go around looking at people like that!”

“Like what?” Bucky asked innocently, mischief shining in his eyes.

“Four and a half minutes,” he proclaimed. “I’d say we made pretty good progress, don’t you?”

Darcy could only splutter.

4. The head shake

After the Winking incident, Darcy found herself seeing Bucky a lot more. He seemed to be finding reasons to be passing by the lab or hanging out in the kitchen. Jane was convinced that meant he was crushing on her, but Darcy chalked it up to him putting her on the “friendworthy” list, which she was pretty pleased about. She’d take a friendship with him very happily. And the more they opened up to each other, the more fascinating she found Bucky Barnes. He was so much more than the history books and even Steve portrayed him. He was thoughtful, funny, considerate, and delightfully sarcastic at times. Despite the pain he was in as the memories of what he’d been and done returned to him, usually via nightmares, he was a gentle soul and Darcy found herself falling for him the more she got to know him. Not wanting to ruin their friendship, she kept a tight lid on her feelings, deciding that her next goal would be to see him smile. It seemed a daunting task, but she was up for it.

A forty hour science binge led to the lab being automatically shut down (thanks to Pepper and Jarvis. Tony tended to lose track of time when he was on a roll, so they’d enacted special protocols) and Thor and Bucky walking in to see Jane passed out over a machine and Darcy whirling around in her chair in sleep deprived, giddy delirium.

“Hey big guy!” She greeted Thor giddily. “You come to carry Jane to bed?”

“Indeed, Lady Darcy.” Thor answered, looking at her with concern. But Darcy had already moved on to Bucky. This was the first time he’d ever set foot in the lab itself and she was quite surprised, but in her zombie-like state, didn’t have much control over what came out of her mouth.

“Bucky bear! Did you come all this way to see me? I’m so touched! I know how you hate labs. Janey and I are on the verge of a big discovery with this…..thingy…..over here.” She trailed off as her brain wouldn’t provide the right words and as she tried to get up, she swayed and found herself caught in Bucky’s steadying arms. Thor was already heading toward the door with Jane in his arms and Darcy felt the exhaustion crashing over her. She slumped over and Bucky picked her up off her feet, holding her bridal style.

“Yep. It’s definitely bedtime for you, Darcy,” he murmured, shaking his head at her with a decidedly affectionate expression. She laid her head against his arm with a weary sigh.

“Yeah. You’re so comfy. Like a big teddy bear,” she murmured, eyes closing.

She didn’t see the look in Bucky’s eyes as he followed Thor up to their floor, swallowing hard at the trust she’d put in him.

5. The lip twitch

“What in the world’s going on in here?” Bucky asked in an astonished tone, watching as Darcy struggled in the hold of The Black Widow, who had her pinned to the mat.

“Natasha is training Darcy,” Steve informed him. “After the latest kidnapping, she’s not allowed to go out without a bodyguard until she’s improved her self-defense skills.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose at Steve from her position on the mat, then with a couple of quick moves, freed herself and popped up to grin at Bucky.

‘“Now you’re getting it,” Natasha commented, getting to her feet and grabbing her water bottle. “A few more repetitions and we’ll call it a day.”

Darcy heaved a sigh, then turned to Bucky again with a proud face.

“I’m gonna be kicking but in no time!” She declared. “Wanna fight?” She affected a boxing stance, playfully prancing around him.

The fact that she barely came up to his shoulder made it all the more comical and Bucky’s lips twitched upward in amusement, making Darcy’s eyes widen as she realized she’d almost made him smile.

“No thanks, Darcy. But how about we get coffee when you’re done here?”

“Are you asking me out, Bucky Barnes?” She asked, smile widening.

“I sure am, doll.” He confirmed. Darcy squealed and hugged him.

“It’s about time!” Natasha sighed. “Now get out of here and stop distracting my student,” she ordered Bucky.

Bucky very reluctantly pried Darcy’s arms off of him, but he dropped an impulsive kiss on her head.

“I’ll see you later. Don’t piss off Natasha, now.”

Darcy laughed, but shuddered a bit.

“Perish the thought. I want to live to go on many dates with you, handsome.”

+1 The full on smile

It was Bucky’s birthday and having had a bad couple of days, he’d forbidden any kind of celebration, going so far as to almost yell at Steve for getting him a card. Of course, then he’d felt bad about hurting his friend and retreated to his apartment to hide out from society, wondering why people even bothered with him. All the therapy in the world couldn’t change what he’d done and what he could do. He sat staring down at his metal arm in loathing. He wondered what Darcy even saw in him and even entertained thoughts that perhaps he should end things before he ended up hurting her too. His heart rebelled against that idea, though. Darcy was the best thing to happen to him in years.

A soft knock on the door brought Darcy, who was all dressed up in the cute dress she knew he liked and carrying a picnic basket.

“Hey, doll. I’m afraid I’m not good company today.” He warned her, as she made herself at home, sitting the basket down on his table.

“I heard.” She sighed, looking slightly pained. “But everyone deserves to have a little bit of celebration, even if it's just the two of us. I’m so glad you were born, James Buchanan Barnes. If you weren’t around, well, World War Two would have gone a very different way and a lot of us wouldn’t be here right now. Also, I’m totally gone on you, hot stuff. Now perk up and eat your cupcake.”

Before Bucky could say anything, she’d shoved a beautifully frosted red velvet cupcake into his hand. “I ❤️ You” was written on the top. Bucky’s heart began to thaw and he pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

“Darcy , you are amazing. I don’t know why you put up with me, but I’m glad you do,” he murmured.

“I love you, Bucky bear.” She said quietly.

“What?” It was the first time either of them had used those words and Bucky could hardly believe his ears.

“I said, I love you, Bucky,” she repeated, taking his face in her hands and looking at him earnestly.

Bucky’s eyes filled with tears and a full, beautiful smile bloomed across his face.

“Oh,” Darcy breathed in wonder. “That’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I finally got you to really smile.”

“Better get used to it, doll,” he said, grinning in a way he hadn’t in a long time. “Being with you, I’m gonna be smiling a lot. I love you, Darcy Lewis.”

Bonus, because His smile is really just too cute!!

[lueurjun]

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader. 

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend. 

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself. 

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

i. 

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies. 

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok. 

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began. 

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career. 

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii. 

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes. 

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him. 

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?” 

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.  

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head. 

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?” 

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices. 

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you. 

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.” 

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses. 

iii. 

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual. 

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation. 

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake. 

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.  

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?” 

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt. 

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.” 

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you. 

You don’t even apologize. 

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself. 

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” 

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?” 

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth. 

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider. 

“Now we’re even.” 

Oh, he is evil. 

iv. 

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers. 

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time. 

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!” 

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?” 

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness. 

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs. 

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself. 

He nods. “You did.” 

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you. 

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.” 

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together. 

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?” 

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.” 

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment. 

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon. 

“To millions more,” you repeat softly. 

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

[nectar-cellar]

the lovely @honeyviesims sent me all the emojis for arjun in a headcanon post that was going around a while ago. i figured i would attach my answers to this photo dump! i’m sorry i’m so slow at these LMAO 

this was a really fun character development exercise 😋 i hope you like finding out more about him! and if not just enjoy the pictures 💗

☾ - sleep headcanon

arjun sleeps shirtless or naked, and snores loudly. he’s one of those human radiators who are always warm. :3  

★ - sad headcanon

he would talk to a close friend, partner, or therapist about his feelings if they were available. he might eat his feelings, or listen to sad music and go for a walk/jog. he would let himself cry. he’s a big softie.

☆ - happy headcanon

arjun is a happy-go-lucky kinda guy, so having a cheerful disposition is part of his normal personality ☀️ he’s always smiling and cracking jokes, especially around friends.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

i think it would take a lot to make him furious. he would be the type to not sweat the small stuff, or he would initiate a calm conversation if something was really bothering him. he’s patient and good-natured. being physically violent towards any object or person just isn’t him! i think the most he would do is raise his voice and pace around. i could see him being more stubborn and quick-to-anger with his family since they’d know how to push his buttons.

✿ - Sex headcanon

he has a high libido and is definitely a pleaser. he would have no problem being loud and vocal. i can see him being the adventurous type... but only with the right person!!!

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

i can see him having a modest apartment that’s always slightly messy in a cozy, homey way. he would have a fully stocked kitchen because the man loves eating and cooking for himself and loved ones. (hence the camo print apron.) i can see him having a tv and video game console he plays on the weekends and after work. he would watch sports games and movies on it too. his bookshelves would be filled with books on exercise, nutrition, and self-improvement. he definitely has some yoga mats, weights, kettlebells, and other miscellaneous home workout equipment tucked away somewhere. he would love to have a home gym one day.

♡ - romantic headcanon

he’s definitely not interested in hookups or friends-with-benefits type relationships. he’s a hopeless romantic at heart. he’s the kind of person who would only date or get into a relationship with someone if he saw serious, long-term potential with them. like, getting a pet together, marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. anything less just isn’t worth it to him.

♥ - family headcanon

he grew up with a big, warm, and loving family. he has a few sisters he is close to. arjun is a family-oriented guy for sure.

☮ - friendship headcanon

he is a good listener. the type of friend who will give honest advice but in a gentle and considerate way. he always looks out for his friends. when making plans, he’s not fussy about the activity or place, what matters to him is getting to spend time with the other people and having fun. he would definitely be the designated driver on a night out.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

hobbies: i think i covered these in the other prompts :3 bodybuilding is his main hobby. see: the stringer and short shorts.

quirks: he’s a bit of a slob. he loves spicy food. he sings in the shower and will unapologetically belt out songs off-key at karaoke. he blushes when he’s embarrassed. he tends to get loud when he’s excited.  

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

he likes people who are genuine and down-to-earth. he likes most kinds of physical exercise, whether it’s indoors or outdoors. he likes leading a healthy and active lifestyle. he likes a glass of ice-cold beer. he likes animals and kids. he likes delicious food and he’ll indulge in junk food every once in a while.

he dislikes gossip, interpersonal conflicts, and people who look down on others. he prefers to avoid conflict whenever possible. he dislikes excessive materialism. he’s not a fan of the cold weather. he doesn’t “get” abstract art and films. he’s an innately good person and strongly dislikes immoral and/or selfish choices and actions.

▼ - childhood headcanon

he’s an extrovert because he grew up in a loud and lively household. he was always surrounded by his sisters, parents, and extended family members. they weren’t wealthy, but they were always comfortable. his childhood was a bit sheltered, but very loving and happy.

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

in arjun’s ideal world, he’d eventually settle down with a partner, move into a bigger house (with a pool and home gym), have kids and/or pets, and grow old surrounded by family. he would probably age gracefully because he’s so passionate about health. he’ll definitely be traveling, staying active, and throwing frequent dinner parties well into his 60s and 70s. 🥳

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

at a certain point in his bodybuilding journey, he got bored of making chicken breast, kale, and rice for every meal, and picked up a cookbook. he enjoys savoury food, but either made with a healthy twist, or prepared with ingredients that align with his fitness goals. he is strongly against fad diets. he’ll pig out on junk food once in a while. you’ll never catch him eating a salad. he’s a big guy with a fast metabolism and a huge appetite.

☼ - appearance headcanon

hehe i think the pics i’ve posted are pretty self-explanatory. he’s very hairy, so he’s always sporting stubble or a full beard. he knows how to groom and dress himself because of his sisters’ advice and relentless teasing. he doesn’t have tattoos but is open to getting one in the future. in the game, all my sims are the same height for simplicity’s sake, but as a character he’s definitely tall. he’s a fan of athletic clothes, relaxed jeans, and keeps his outfits simple. he prefers comfort over style.  

ൠ - random headcanon

i made arjun and connor around the same time. i imagined the 2 of them were both personal trainers at the same gym. they were basically polar opposites. connor was the quiet, slightly anti-social one, and arjun was the warm and energetic one. connor is younger and less experienced, so eventually arjun would’ve extended a hand and been like hey kid, you’re new to this, let me help you with your customer service skills so you can get and retain more clients. lol random gym HC  💪😎

[alicemitch09writes]

(un)loving miya atsumu

six

the boys in the club.

As soon as practice ended, you had just finished writing in the journal, signing off a few things, eyes glued to your written analysis and observations bent on heading home. Kaoru needed help with one of his homework and asked you earlier to help him.

Just then, a familiar voice called out to you.

“(Y/N)!”

Looking up, you meet the kind gaze of Aran. “We’re headin’ to that new boba shop by the station, wanna come with?” Behind him were Akagi, Oomimi, Kita, and a few other players, watching you with inviting smiles.

You paused, gripping on to your notebook.

Thing was, it had been a few days since the incident. As much as your seniors meant no harm, you didn’t want a reminder of your humiliation.

More importantly, this was Ojiro Aran – out of everyone in the team, he was the one who knew the twins best and the one of the few people they respected, he was their straightman as much as a big brother figure to them. And because you were associated with the twins, he had the same reception with you - if not, kinder and softer. Something akin to concern swam in those dark eyes of his, to which you had to ignore.

Atsumu – who was watching with a glare, brown eyes burning at you, threatening – would hate you even more for trying to take Aran from him.

And so, you shake your head. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to pass. But please, enjoy for me.”

Without another word, you nodded at them all, ignoring the sad look in their eyes, and left.

"Torino?"

"Karasuno," you corrected, almost exasperatedly. Seriously, how old was Coach Kurosu again?

Realization dawns on him. "Ah, haven't heard that name in a while."

"Are they any good?"

"Dunno, they're an old powerhouse."

Humming, you look back at the pamphlet in your hands. "A rather glorious comeback, wouldn't you say?"

The older man pulls his head back, barking in laughter. "That's a rather poetic way of saying it!"

It would be something your captain would say, but currently, he's busy having a practice match with the rest of the team.

As always, with him on the court, everyone played to their best and didn't half-ass or slack. Heck, even Suna was doing some work!

But of course, there were his plays - graceful, smooth, and focused solely on the defense.

Definitely a clear cut choice of captain, the standard, in your opinion.

"Aran-san, nice serve!"

A blur of yellow and blue flies to his hand, dribbling it with his one hand as he walks to the end of the court and waits for the whistle. With him serving, it had everyone on high alert.

The ball flies up in the air, Ojiro runs up, hands raised to meet the falling ball, sending it flying to the other side of the court just barely touching the outer line. Still an in.

Definitely an ace alright, enough to be recognized in the country’s top 5 aces.

Whoever the next ace was – it’s going to be a tough call between Osamu and Ginjima - they have big shoes to fill.

Quickly, you write in your notebook.

'Ojiro serves: Ins - 5, Outs - 1'

After a week of exams, it was only natural that people reverted back to their normal state – you with managerial duties for the school’s illustrious volleyball club. Fresh out of the burn of their academics, everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

"What're you standing around the court for? Chase after it!" Coach Kurosu yells. "Geez, my dog chases balls better than these nitwits."

And there's his dog analogy, you thought to yourself, hilarious as always to hear.

On the other side of the court was a team composed of Suna, Osamu, Atsumu, and Ginjima - the trouble children, and two other second years. Opposing them were the third years - Kita, Akagi, Oomimi, Aran, one third year, and another second year.

Honestly, your captain would've done well as libero, with his amazing receiving skills and read of the ball's trajectory. He wasn't the team's defensive specialist for nothing. Nevertheless, as a wing spiker, he does well for his part. Regardless if his skills were average, just the way he presents himself in and out of the court was astounding.

"Suna, nice serve!" you called out, watching the tall boy walk back in line.

Just as the whistle blew, the ball was sent flying in the air leaving the opposing team scrambling.

For one rather lackadaisical, Suna's techniques were something. If only he gave his all in all of his games.

'Suna serves: Ins - 4, Outs - 0'

Seeing gray-dyed, you closely watched as Osamu toy with the current blockers, not once intimidated by Oomimi, the top blocker of the team.

As the ball appeared before him, instead of spiking it, he tossed it to his waiting twin, sending the ball to the other court. A flash of gold - a hungry look in his eyes as the ball goes the way he wanted it to go, enough to blind from your spot.

"The twins are on point today as usual," Coach Kurosu says with a nod. You nod with him, writing into your logbook.

'Miya Twins quicks: success - 6, fails - 1'

Yep, everyone was definitely in high spirits today.

Your thoughts and observations were echoed by the two coaches after practice, after congratulating them for all doing a great job during the previous week. Exams were no laughing matter, they were a test to see one’s mental and academic capability – as they were all students.

Now that you think about it, as Coach Oomi was telling off a few of the boys, you had to follow up on their performance once the results were out. Normally, they’d get their test results in a week’s time, probably.

After that, a short break for the holidays.

Must be nice…

"Ah, by the way," you call out, making your presence known and just before the coaches ended today’s practice.

All eyes were on you, attention on high. Turning to your coaches pointedly, expectantly, they only stared back, question in their eyes. Frowning, your head tilted slightly, they stared back. The frown on your face deepened, unamused.

Seriously?

Planting your hand on your hip, your expression sours. "You both forgot, didn't you?" they winced.

"A-Ah, you have to be specific, (L/N)." Coach Oomi defended, Coach Kurosu nodding beside him.

Your frown only deepened, eyes narrowing.

"We just talked about it before practice started," though your voice was even, there was enough bite to it. And though older than you, the two men felt small under your reprimanding gaze. More so when you sighed, as though you've said too much. “And you both told me to remind you about it before we end today’s practice.”

As the team watched, they felt just as though you were talking to the lot of them – your voice thick with disappointment. Kita watched, unaffected by it all almost amused by it all.

With a sigh, you turned to the team, eyes easily finding blond-dyed hair. "Miya Atsumu,"

The setter straightens at the sound of his name. "Y-Yes?"

Lifting your lips up, a gentle smile filled your face.  "Congratulations, you've been selected to join the All-Japan Youth Camp." You say with a smile – a true, genuine, and proud smile, despite knowing that you were the last person he’d like to hear it from.

Something in Atsumu starts at the sight of it.

It took a second for him to process your words, before he burst into joy. “Y-Yosha!”

Congratulations were tossed his way left and right from his teammates. Beside you, it seemed as though it finally came to the coaches as they sheepishly scratched the back of their heads, avoiding your gaze.

"W-Wait, how about 'Samu?" Atsumu asked, directing his question to you.

The smile on your face thinned. "Sadly, there's an invite for only one Miya."

Interestingly enough, Osamu’s only reaction was to blink, his gray-brown eyes becoming distant.

"B-But-"

"Should you have any concerns or queries, feel free to approach any of the coaches." There was a finality to your tone, causing the older men to jump.

“A-Ah, right. Thank you for that, (L/N).” says Coach Kurosu, smiling at you, apologetically and gratefully. He got a nod from you. “Again, congratulations Atsumu. Now for the rest of y’all, I don’t want the rest of you slacking behind just because of this, y’hear me?”

“No coach,” they replied.

“Alright, good. Dismissed.”

(A few days before his leave for Tokyo, Atsumu was at school with a rare free period shared with Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima. They all decided to head to the library, in lieu of studying but to loiter in actuality.

Atsumu was gushing to the brim, excitement in his bones to meet some interesting volleyball players from all across the nation. Heck, he might even see that one annoying player with the wicked spins on his serves.

“Ah, that’s Itachiyama’s Sakusa,” Ginjima says.

“Isn’t he one of the top high school aces in the country?” Osamu asked, voice thinly veiled with curiosity.

“Actually, he’s the top ace.” Suna said without looking up from his phone, fingers tapping and sliding every few seconds.

“Shit, for real?”

“He even beat Aran!”

A loud shush sounded off, the student librarian glaring at their table. The four boys quieted down, Osamu shoving at his twin, who retaliated with his own shove before Ginjima stepped in to break it off.

“Man, I’m gonna meet a buncha interesting people!” the setter gushes, he was practically radiating it off. In all their years playing volleyball, this was actually the first time that Atsumu was going alone. Although they talked it out with his twin, Atsumu sharing it with his brother and friends make it believable that he isn’t alone in this, it was enough to fill his spirits. (Nobody tell him he’s lonely about going alone, though)

“Just don’t go off starting a ruckus,” Osamu stands from his seat, because the student assistant was glaring holes into their table. He comes back a moment later with some books in his hands, a mix of cookbooks, sports, and literature books.

From his seat, the student assistant looked appeased by the sight of books before turning back to his duties. Their group exchanged snickers, returning to their idle state.

Just then, through the open doors, Ginjima caught sight of you passing by “Ah, it’s manager.”

Atsumu never turned so quickly on his life – which the Ginjima found rather comical – indeed finding you out the hallway uniform nice and tidy as always, not a hair out of place, with arms filled with textbooks.

With Kusakabe beside you.

It made his blood boil for some reason, seeing the two of you together – when there were a few other classmates as well. You’ve become close with Mr. Four-Eyes, it seems.

“Ah, she chose an extra class, right?”

“That’s right.” Osamu answered with a nod. “Chemistry, I believe.” To which everyone deflated at, it was a science with a bunch of math. Yet, unsurprisingly, it was rather fitting for you. It shouldn't also surprise them that you chose to add an extra class instead of having free time like them. College prep kids were built different, it seems.

Recovering, Ginjima watches the back of your head as he comments. “Ah, I keep forgetting manager’s in a college prep class.”

“Wasn’t her big sister in one, too?” asked Suna, looking up for once, chin resting on his folded arms.

When you were out of sight, Atsumu turned back to his group. “I think so? She was in Class 5?”

“Manager’s in Class 7, though.” Ginjima stated.

Suna scoffs. “There’s just a 2 difference.”

“Aren’t they just the same, though?” Atsumu frowned, now recalling how each of the (L/N) siblings were intellectuals. Mika, you, and Kaoru were all in honor’s classes, with you being in the classes for all of your middle school, junior high, and probably all of high school. Kaoru might even follow in your footsteps if he can balance soccer and his studies.

“Pretty much, I guess.”

“Nah, (Y/N)’s the smarter sibling.” Osamu answered again, rather smoothly almost defensively. “She’s been part of the top students since middle school.”

Ginjima and Suna hums, with the latter going back to browsing his phone.

“Osamu, you know a great deal about manager, huh?”

The corner of his lips twitch, briefly meeting his twin’s gaze before plucking a random book from their stack. “Yeah well, she’s my best friend.”

My best friend, Osamu says. Not ‘our’.

Ah, yeah, there was that. He couldn’t share the joy with you anymore.)

Walking down the busy hall, students flocking every corner, you carefully maneuvered even without looking up. What’s more, you were at the third year’s floor – which should intimidate lower year levels, but not you.

Glancing you, you found Class 5 and approached the door.

“Excuse me,” you asked the student closest to the door. “Is Aran-san around?”

“Ojiro?” turning to the room, the student called out. “Hmm, ah, there he is. Oi, Ojiro, someone’s here for you!”

As soon as he was called, a tall figure stands from his seat, eyes widening at the sight of you. He raises a hand as he approaches. “Yo, (Y/N), what’s up?”

“Ah, we’ve run low on some supplies,” you reported, hands folded behind you.

Almost immediately, he falls into vice-captain mode. “Yes, that! Well, don’t worry about inventory check because Shinsuke and I did them for you.”

“Really?" unconsciously, your shoulders relaxed. "That’s a relief.”

Aran's whole face softens down at you. “Hey, as captain and vice-captain, we’re both obliged to at least ease our manager’s burdens. We can help out, too, y'know?” You had to smile at that. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll get the list.”

You watch Aran walk back to his seat, leaving you alone to look around his classroom. It was no different than yours, except there was a certain feel to it. In fact, everyone in the room - although were, very much like you, students - had a feel that was different about them. Third years, huh?

“Here we go,” Aran returns with some papers in his hands.

“Thank you very much,”

“Now, don’t forget to ask the coaches-“

“Will do. By the way, how’s your little sister?” A little small talk couldn’t hurt, right?

The older teen sort of frowns, the same frown he uses on the twins. “I swear, the older she gets the more she’s getting on my nerves!”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” you stifled a laugh, failingly. If you remember correctly, Aran’s little sister was just Kaoru’s age.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh about it all you want.” Sighing, he threw his hands in the air. “Why can’t she be more like you?”

“Cold, stoic, barely human?”

He sputtered, gesticulating rather dramatically. “Oi!”

“It’s the truth.”

Grumbling, he clears his throat, fixes himself into his big brother persona, arms folded over his chest for added effect. “I wish she was more collected and responsible, like you.”

“A ringing endorsement from one of the top high school aces, I’m flattered.”

Sharing laughter, he reached over to ruffle his hand over your head. “You at least deserve to be complimented every once in a while.”

You hum, warmed by his words. "You could at least just talk it out with her, that's how I deal with Kaoru."

"Yeah, but she doesn't take me seriously."

"Neither does Kaoru," Aran looks surprised by this, you can't blame him, your younger brother was a brat and a lot to deal with. "However, it does help to aptly remind him time and time again of his misdemeanor. You most certainly have to be strict with managing him but also respect their feelings. In addition, you must speak to them like a child and not a subject of some sort."

For some reason, he felt a chill run down his spine. "S-Sheesh, you sound like Shinsuke when you say that."

Unable to help yourself, the corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk-like smile. "Who do you think taught me all those?"

His expression flattens, eyes shut as it comes to him. "Ah. Man. Geez."

He then sighs in defeat, shoulders lifting and dropping. "Still wished she turned out like you, (Y/N)."

"Trust me, you don't want a boring little sister. Anyway, good luck with her though."

"Will do, thanks for the tips," he mutters a few things under his breath, something like a prayer.

Tucking the papers aside, you just about turned to leave when you nearly run into someone.

“Atsumu, watch where you’re going ya lug!” Aran says behind you. 

“S-Sorry-“ he looks down, eyes widening when he realizes he crashed into you, you blink back in concern. “S-Sorry-!”

“No, I’m sorry for not paying attention to my surroundings.” Taking a step back, you found Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima behind him - giving them all a bow before walking away.

Before he left for Tokyo though, both your families had a little get-together at the Miya residence.

To say it was awkward was an understatement, especially because of the rift between you and one particular twin, and because the family didn't exactly know about the situation - but you managed by helping around whilst the twins (plus Kaoru) played some games.

“Don’t you want to join them?” the Miya matriarch asked you kindly.

Over at the living room, the boys were loudly cheering, eyes glued to their game, Kaoru nestled between the twins.

You shook your head, focusing on chopping the vegetables. “I’m fine.” Cooking helped calmed you, busying your hands and sense of smell and taste helped calmed your nerves. Meticulously following through recipes in your head, focusing only on making delectable dishes for all.

As much as you can, you didn't want the family to notice something between you and Atsumu, didn't want to ruin the already bright atmosphere because of his success, didn't want to ruin his day, didn't want to ruin his reputation because of you.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the families, congratulating Atsumu over and over for qualifying for the All-Japan Youth Camp. Osamu heartily ate, sitting next to you, Atsumu to his other side. With his twin as the star of the feast, you saw him brimming with pride and a bit of shyness - especially in the presence of family. It made you smile, but only for a quick while.

So you ate quietly, keeping your head low.

It was already worth knowing how quiet you were unless asked a question. Nobody seemed to mind, used to your quiet presence.

"Kaoru, eat properly," you berate, reaching over, napkin in hand to wipe your brother's face.

It's also known that you were such a caring person - sister, most especially.

"You're almost an adolescent now and still you eat like a child." There was rice on his shirt on his table, how embarrassing. How is he 12?

"Nee-san, please!" At that, the adults laugh, seemingly used to it all. Even Atsumu laughed in. "I'm not a baby!"

"You'll always be a baby to us, brother boy." Atsumu teased your little brother, booping his nose with his finger.

Groaning, Kaoru angrily puts down his bowl and chopsticks, swatting you and Atsumu's hands away. The adults laugh again, especially at the combined forces of you and Atsumu.

The blond-dyed teen meets your eye, time freezing for a moment, you kept thinking of them as brown when they were actually honey brown. It was hard to look away from them, especially with how he took you in. Something kickstarted in your chest.

Clearing your throat, you quickly sit back, he does the same. Osamu fills his plate and yours too.

Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you take out your phone, eyes widening at a notification.

"Ah, Mi-" unsure how to address him, especially because the adults and Kaoru were there, you cleared your throat again, capturing everyone's attention, including Atsumu's. "Mika-nee sends her congratulations."

Like magic, his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. Misery, it was it feels like, followed by a thousand arrows shot through your already fragile heart.

"She furthers that, 'she knew you could do it. Have fun in Tokyo,' it was a miracle how firm you kept your tone, in its usual monotonous tone. "And 'hello to everyone, I miss you all.'"

The adults then turn to tease Atsumu, Osamu reminding his twin that your sister was still with her boyfriend, resulting in them fighting. Bemused by their usual antics, the adults ask you questions about your sister's well-being, you answered as best you could before they began to talk amongst themselves about traveling, allowing you to wallow on the pain.

Yep, that was the Mika effect.

She could light up a room by just the mention of her name, amplifying the happiness of someone's achievement.

And who were you? Just a bystander. A ghost, even. Your words meant absolutely nothing, especially for Atsumu.

But - you peeked up, seeing him steal from Osamu's plate - at least it made him happy, right?

As much as it pained you, that smile on his face was everything.

"Nee-san, can you pass me some meat please?" Kaoru asks you politely, rice sticking to his cheeks.

Swallowing the pain, you robotically reach out and placed an ample amount into his waiting plate, grateful for the distraction.

Again, this was about Atsumu. Not about you.

Reaching over, you were just about to clean his face when he does it himself. "I can do it myself, nee-san." your little brother's grin was a mess, yet you couldn't find it in your heart to get mad, especially at the proud look on his still messy face.

With Atsumu gone for a whole week, and nationals coming up soon, practice as of late has been hectic and hard. Also, because the team was short of one Miya, it went quietly and peacefully – a strange and rather unnatural occurrence. That excuse any kind of indolence though, especially with nationals drawing near.

"Put your backs into it!" barked Coach Kurosu.

Somehow, because nationals were coming, practice went on slower than usual. And that was saying, you were still in the middle of winter.

The boys had to work themselves to the bone, beating the chilly winter breeze, pumping the blood in their veins. Each player gave their all, yelling out when both coaches couldn't hear them.

Blowing on your whistle, you called out. "Alright, take a 10-minute break." 

Never have you seen the whole gym deflate, thankfully.

Heck, it was only the first half of practice!

Water bottles were handed and consumed in record time, a few players even fell to the ground, legs raised against the wall.

"I'm gonna die!" 

"You're not going to die," you retort at the first year. "Just don't force yourself." The first year whines once more.

"There's a difference between forcing yourself and giving your all in a game," a cold voice added in, causing the first year to shoot up sitting. "That being said, you needn't need to slack off. Just play like you usually would."

"Y-Yes, Kita-san!"

Huffing you turned to your captain, who blinked back at you. 

"Good work today, captain."

"Practice is far from over, (L/N)." he mused, eyes bright.

Humming, you glance at the stopwatch - eight minutes had just passed. (E/c) eyes then drifted over the gym, over the heads of the club members, a sea of black and white practice uniform. This was a scene you were used to all of your two years as manager, for all of four seasons. 

Somehow, just looking out at it all, something felt missing.

No, not something - someone.

Someone with golden blond-dyed hair, bright honey brown eyes, a sly smirk, and astounding presence.

It was missing one Miya Atsumu.

Glancing back at the stopwatch, a minute had just passed you realized.

Lifting your head again, you were met with the same view. 

Sighing, you pocket the stopwatch and announce the remaining minutes of practice there was left. Frowning at nothing, you felt something tug at your ponytail. Looking over, you were met with a darker version of a person in your head - darker hair, darker eyes, same gentle eyes.

"Osamu, what's up?"

"Can you help me tape up?"

"...that's rare, you don't normally tape up your hands." you say, leading the two of you to where the first aid kid was.

"It's winter," was all he reasoned, almost in a grumble. Almost childishly.

It almost made you snort, that was usually his brother's complaint - as he was more particular with his hands and being a setter in general.

"(Y/N), please." he whined, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Yes, yes."

With one Miya short, it meant one was left behind - Osamu.

Even without his twin, he pretty much carried himself just fine. Between the two, he was much more independent. Atsumu was always the clingy twin.

And with his older twin away, that meant, more time with the lad. More time with your best friend.

But as the saying goes, two is better than one.

Two Miyas is better than one.

Still, you made the most out of it, since there was no way you coming in between the brothers.

“You said that chicken noodle soup is your ultimate comfort food, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

Osamu was silent for a moment, watching the steaming white rice in front of both of you. “Mine’s onigiri.”

For some reason, that surprised you. “Really? Not your mom’s-”

“Yeah.”

Hands washed, the two of you dug on to the bowl of rice, carefully shaping it in your hands. “That’s a surprise. You never told me that.”

Although, it did explain how after you moved in and met him, he was asking you to help him make onigiri. Much like now. Except with his chubby hands then, most of his end product ended up badly shaped, too soggy, bland, or lacking.

Years of practice saw to his improvement, with his onigiris being perfectly shaped, flavorful, and rich in texture enough to beat the rice balls at convenient stores. Not to mention that he’s grown a penchant for cooking, after being friends with you.

Rice was a rather versatile grain that has a lot of varieties, depending on how you choose to make use of it. Japanese dishes were mostly simple but made had a lot of intricacies that rivaled gourmet dishes. Onigiri had a lot of variants – white rice, wrapped, seasoned, mixed rice, fillings, to name a few.

But for Osamu, the humble white rice onigiri was his favorite.

It was worth noting that through the years you’ve watched him mold his rice – once, burning his hands because they were too hot or because he was too impatient – he seemed rather determined in the process. He shaped the onigiri as though he were holding something precious, taking careful means, making sure that he had the right amount of seaweed and mayonnaise.

Most of his onigiris were huge, like the size of his hand. Well, he was an athlete and a huge glutton – so those two combinations spoke plenty. However, when he finally finished his first perfect onigiri, something crossed his eyes – it sent a twinge in your heart, seeing so much emotion in those usually guarded eyes of his.

“Osamu?”

The boy just stared at his onigiri for a while, as though in disbelief. Upon closer inspection, he looked as though he were in a daze.

“…have I ever told you why it’s my comfort food?”

There seemed a weight to his words, shown in the way his eyes glazed over a simple homemade rice ball. People have different ways of expressing themselves, some through writing, some through sports, some even through cooking.

Osamu conveyed his feelings through cooking, it seems.

Turning to face him, you wore a gentle smile. “I would very much like to hear it.”

Meeting your gaze, slowly, his lips lift into a smile.

Over a plate of perfectly made onigiris, Osamu tells you a story of his first love.

There was a knock at your door, followed by the doorknob turning. “Nee-san,” came your little brother’s voice, accompanied by crinkling plastic. “here.”

Flipping on to the next page, busily writing into your notebook,  was all he got. You barely looked up from your notes!

Miffed, he tried calling you again, “Nee-san!” he dragged on the first syllable, doing the same with the last syllable with a baby voice. To no avail, much to Kaoru’s disappointment.

Though you were wearing earbuds, normally Kaoru would hear soft, gentle tunes playing off it, so you could still hear him. Only, you were really into your notes, as though your own brother wasn’t in the same room as you.

Puffing his cheeks, he paddled up towards you, poking you in the cheek. “Nee-san,” Much more disappointed and annoyed, he looks at the plastic in his bag, carefully lifts it up until the cold plastic touches your cheek, the touch shocking you instantly.

“Ah, Kaoru,” You gently pushed him away from you, pulling your earbuds off, rubbing at your cold cheek. “what are you doing here?”

“I knocked!” his cheeks were still puffed, the (adorable) frown on his face easing. “Here.” He raises the plastic earlier to you, at an eye level.

Bubble tea.

Blinking, you carefully take it from your brother’s hands. “Who’s it from?”

“Atsumu-nii and Osamu-nii.”

Your brows furrowed at that. “Both of them?”

“Yep! I have one, too!” he showed his own drink, heartily sipping from it, unaware of the questioning look in your face and tone.

You would understand if Osamu bought it, but Atsumu? And Kaoru, as much of a brat he can be at times, hardly lied – at least to your face. And he loved the Miya twins. He was also scared of lying to your face.

“We’re about to eat dinner, though.” You berate, especially at the amount of sugar in his drink. “When did they give it?”

“Just minutes ago! Atsumu-nii handed it over because Osamu-nii had to make dinner.” Ah, so that confirms it then.

Humming, you take the drink in your hand. “Thanks, Kaoru.”

The little boy toothily grins. “You’re welcome, nee-san!” rushing to the door, he turns to tell you, “I’ll come back when dinner’s ready!”

“Yeah, thanks.”

With a click, you were alone in your room once more. Music softly played from your earbuds, homework sitting idly.

Surprisingly, the drink was still cold. Just how long ago did they buy this?

Atsumu and Osamu bought this, you remind yourself, twisting the drink in your hand, fiddling with the straw with your other hand. Straightening your drink, you punctured your straw in.

Taking a sip, you let the flavors settle in your tongue before swallowing. “…not too sweet, just salty enough.” Just the way you like it.

Twirling the drink in your hand, it just occurred to you that today was Atsumu's return from Tokyo.

masterlist • seven

[lukesperfectharmonyhair]

im rewatching jatp instead of studying for the 3 tests i have tomorrow and i thought i would share my thoughts and reactions with each episode so enjoy!!....

wake up

- hearing the “1, 2, 3″ at the start of the episode gives me more serotonin than my antidepressants ever will

- julie’s slippers...that’s it...that’s the thought

- that dry ass pasta the molina’s are eating for dinner??? someone needs to give my man ray some cooking tips or a cookbook... something

-the looks the boys give julie when she says it was an OLD cd she found. as if they could be old??

-the entire julie and luke kitchen scene i mean there are no words to describe how much i am in love with scene. the banter, the flirting, luke giving this girl he literally just met an actual PIECE OF HIS SOUL so she can get music back into her life. not a single time have i watched that scene and not felt my heart literally grow cause of how cute they are. 

-the entire scene when julie is singing wake up. that scene is what made me literally CRAVE watching the other episodes. like of course i was going to watch them cause i wasn’t gonna just stop watching a show after one episode, and yes the show was good already but seeing the lighting and her voice, and just everything about the scene,,,,*chef’s kiss* 

bright

-flynn drinking seven sodas....SEVEN??? i would be throwing up if i drank more than like 2 and she drank seven,,,no ma’am.

- flynn and her trumpet. talented queen

- “ i wouldn’t have given you the song if i didnt think you were gonna rock it.” lmaooo im crying:)

- i start tearing up every time julie goes to play the first notes of bright,,, and then i’m full on bawling when the guys come in and play with her cause...they weren’t playing to be seen they were playing to be there for her and play to comfort her. pls i love them<3

- nick vibing in the front row

- the tech guy deserves so much more praise

flying solo

- reggie’s little butt shake or whatever you wanna call it!!

- julie’s little laugh when she yells at the guys to stop it

- “and we’re on the runway again” GENUINELY one of my favorite lines of the whole show pls i love luke’s humor

-this is the first time i noticed this but reggie’s face after alex says “DONT TELL ME HOW TO GHOST!”

-WILLIE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU<3333333

-the slow mo helmet take off,,,,me too alex me too

-willie’s little giggles:))))

- “oh-oh!”

- “no clue” alex i love you baby<3

- next season better give us a scene of flynn throwing eggs at someone’s house because i think it’s safe to say we were robbed of that experience. 

- the flying solo performance is just amazing

i got the music

- just the whole opening scene is so cute ....the dancing, singing, happiness RADIATING from julie 

-nick in an all white suit and fedora

-WILLEX MUSEUM DATE YEAH BABYYYYY

- carefree skateboarder bf and anxiety ridden drummer bf

- yelling. in. museums. 

-alex thinking he’s literally dying again because of the salt... zero braincells in this band.

- another scene we were robbed of that i need to see in season 2...reggie singing “home is where my horse is” while alex and julie sit patiently and attentively listen to him but luke looks like he’s about to commit murder

- i get SO MUCH second hand embarrassment for julie when she looks through luke’s songbook and says “ wow luke I didn’t know you were such a romantic” julie baby i love you but...eekkkkk

- “he looks like a substitute teacher”- where did he come up with that like so many other things he could be compared to but a substitute teacher??

- “luke introduced you to rock” heck yeah it did.. literal soulmates

- would like to see a picture of the raccoon in Flynn’s backyard

- wee woo wee woo police sirens://///

- julie’s outfit ughhhh i love it

- the poster that im pretty sure says “sexiest role” behind caleb... why was that necessary 

the other side of hollywood

- THE ENTIRE PERFORMANCE OF THE OTHER SIDE OF HOLLYWOOD 

- i lose my absolute shit over this song omg literal chills

- the cape grab i cannot physically do this rn

- willie being so excited the entire performance and looking over to see alex’s reaction

- reggie being in awe everytime one of the girls performing does something.. me too reggie

-”well i wouldn't really call it mAAgiCcCC bUT”

- nick and his fedora again

- alex has a crush, alex has a crush on.....WILLIE

-the boys eating food for the first time in 25 years is honestly so realistic

-alex shoving a whole slice of pizza in his mouth

- lukes ‘OH MY GODDDDD’

- reggie kissing his meatball sub that looks painfully dry but also delicious 

- the continuation of the other side of hollywood performance and everyone dancing

-reggie imitating caleb’s evil laugh and owen trying so hard not to break

-me getting mad at the boys for not showing up for julie and being sad with her but at the same time i’m obviously not mad at the boys just...disappointed?? idk 

finally free

- how did julie get to the school if she missed the first three classes?? wasn’t she still at flynn’s house from the night before cause she slept over so did she walk to school or was she just sitting in flynn’s house by herself and one of flynn’s parents was like you gonna go to school or???

-dance class with nicky poo<3

-reggie fixing his amp in the rain

-julie’s blue dress outfit in this episode is my ABSOLUTE favorite 

- the birthday candle scene makes me sob like a little baby,,,and rightfully so

- julie smart, smart to be taking calculus as what a sophomore??

- all eyes on me yes queen iconic

- alex dancing is how i dance in my brain whenever the song comes on 

- finally free as a song is NEVER given enough credit and why not?? it’s my favorite song they do as a band AND the madison’s vocals and the echoing part omg i loveeeee

- and the whole performance with luke’s heart eyes. i count this performance as the moment luke like fell in love with julie...like full on just blown away with how much awe and admiration he has for her in that moment and all the time.

 - julie and luke singing “and you’re a part of me” while staring directly into each others soul,,,yeah that’s love kids

edge of great

- carlos being the ghost hunter he is and tía being done with him

- luke’s pouting face 

- reggie and ray making breakfast together is so wholesome. reggie really loves and seeks comfort in ray and i love that

- luke just waiting next to julie’s locker and his little “hey”

- the first time i watch this scene i thought charlie was from new york cause of the way he says “ i can't do this without you” and then i watched the cast interviews and just realized he is somewhat joey tribbiani 

- jealous luke hehehehehhehehe

- “well dont you look shARrP”- yes he does luke thank you very much

- “uh oh i think someone has a crush on julie” yeah you do you little shit,,, now admit it to her

- the proud look on luke’s face when he realizes julie is still paying attention to HIM even though she’s supposed to be having a full on conversation with nick

- the shoulder push ( as someone who has had their own shoulder pushed in the middle of a high school hallway as a weird way of flirting,,,,i can definitely somewhat attest to how luke is feeling in that moment and i too continued to flirt with the person who shoulder shoved me while we were still standing in the hallway)

- the flow from whatever the hell dance nick and julie are doing and the perfect harmony dance is so special to me and i love it

-ADOANCLOBNAOVBCOAB THE HAIR PLSSSSS

- EVERYTIME THE SCENE COMES ON AND I SEE HIM WALKING THROUGH THE MIRROR I HAVE TO PAUSE THE SHOW FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES WHILE I DIE LAUGHING BECAUSE THE HAIR IS SO BAD EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD BE USED TO HOW IT LOOKS AFTER WATCHING THIS SHOW LITERALLY 30 TIMES

- i think people see my username and assume i like his hair in this scene but...ummm fun little fact i do not like it

- the dance is so good though ugh my babies

- the hair

- madison is gorgeous 

- another season 2 scene i need: julie teaching this dance to luke and they perform it in front of alex and reggie so they can see luke roll on the floor like that

-the hair

- the lift i loveeee

- the voices at the end of the song *chef’s kiss*

- the way julie spins out from luke and into nick omg so good

- “thAnKs pArTnER”

- luke denying his feelings for julie,,,babe pls

- the whole edge of great performance is so good and beautiful and the colors are SPECTACULAR 

-julie avoiding luke’s gaze lolz

- can't believe my mans really tried to deny he didn’t have feelings for julie like 5 hours earlier even though he’s getting upset because she hasn’t looked at him in 2 minutes

- THE. GUITAR. RIFF. SOLO.

- when i finally learn how to play the electric guitar well enough to learn the guitar solo... it’s over for everyone

-nick just came to watch the girl he likes perform not watch her flirt with a hologram plssss can we give this man a break next season.

- “we have to say goodbye to julie”- that’s literally more important to luke than not playing music anymore because julie is music to him now

unsaid emily

-already crying and the episode hasn't even started

-willex in the orpheum

- alex literally being OVER reggie

- nope too emotionally unstable to watch this scene right now

- my therapist will be hearing about this tomorrow

- show us the baby picture of luke cowards

- this is such a beautiful song that makes me cry every fucking time gosh damn it

- everytime i watch the flashback scene of luke on his bike i think of “christmas song” by phoebe bridges and i cry even more

- i tried to learn how to play this song on my electric guitar (because i dont have an acoustic guitar) and i ended up crying half way through so i do not think i will be playing it anytime soon:/

- the harmonies *chef’s kiss*

- THE POLICE LIGHTS ....i cry

- FAT tears rolling down my face

- there's literally not a moment i don’t cry during this episode

- interesting little relationship :0

- when i played percussion in 7th grade i used to lay down on the couch in the practice room at school ( which god knows what people did on that couch...ew) and stick my drumsticks up my nose too,,,, just another similarity between alex and i 

stand tall

- willie really drove a bus 200 miles into the desert for his crush

- WILLEX HUG 

- i love willie no last name so much,,,i just wanna hold and protect him

- alex’s ballerina dance

-julie’s overall outfit i love<3

- “im swimming”

- the way carlos hangs up the iPad on tía makes me CRACK UP he’s just lmao bye girl

- another julie outfit i love

- “anything julie. you know that.” AHHHHHAASIDSJFPACISN love bitches

- the suits

- luke’s hair in this episode is so much better than the perfect harmony hair pls

- YOU GOT NOTHING TO LOSE

- the way luke looks so restricted and confined in his suit... but at the same time he looks like a 10 week old puppy

-luke’s AGGRESSIVE but small foot tapping leading up to being on the stage

- the solos:)))))

- crying again over julie’s monologue to her mom

- julie really was brave enough to be ready to perform by herself

-the way Trevor looks at carrie when she says “been here before”

-ALEXXXXXX

-REGGIEEEEE

-luuukkKKKEEEEEEE

- this performance makes me cry

- especially the first time when i saw luke flickering...sobs

- he finally looks free in his suit:))

- alex’s solo is so pretty i love him

- reggie’s solo too 

- nick just straight up vibing the entire performance

- alex and luke holding hands...hehehe cute besties

- “thank you, guys” NO THANK YOU 

- the way julie begs for them to do something about the jolts for HER cause she knows luke would never say no to her

- “no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you,” I JUST SCREAMED AND IM PRETTY SURE I WOKE UP MY ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD...whoops

- going back to that line i could say so much about it but....for someone who’s life was literally MUSIC for the 17 years he was alive, and after finding out he could play music again even though he was dead and saying it made him feel alive, he would give that up- he would give up playing his guitar, playing in a band with his friends, give up writing and singing music- if he wasn’t doing that with julie. that’s more than saying i love you,,,that’s literally like saying i’d give up my ENTIRE LIFE and what i love to do if i dont get to do it with you

- i just made myself cry with that description...wow

-the hug<3

-also imagine how luke felt in that moment,,, hearing this girl, once again that he would give his life up for, saying in his ear that she loves them. i would motherfucking glow too, luke

- *passionately but gently holds each others faces*

-HANDS OFF MY BABY NICK, CALEB

- caleb’s outfit is....something

- the head turn plssss

this was so long and i am so sorry but if you read this far.....leave some of your own reactions or thoughts:)))

k goodnight im gonna, ugh, finally go study ://

[notanacousticsetcal]

be home soon - calum hood

summary - loosely inspired by cals short instagram story cover of better be home soon by crowded house. being in a relationship with calum while he’s away on tour and when he finally comes home :)

warnings - a lot of missing each other but no real drama

word count - 1.7k 

a/n - mostly just wrote this because i’ve been thinking about what it would be like a lot. self indulgent lmao

Copyright © 2020 @notanacousticsetcal. All rights reserved.

Your phone screen lit up with a goofy picture of Calum and Duke and you smiled, rinsing your hands before answering. 

“Hi, baby,” you said softly. You could tell by his sleepy features that he’d had a long day.

“I could fall asleep to your voice.” His head fell back on the couch behind him and you laughed fondly.

“Are you tired? I can let you go if you need your sleep.” He sat up immediately and began shaking his head fiercely.

“No, no. I’ve waited all day to talk to you. I miss you.” He sounded like he was hurting. You frowned at the screen. 

“I miss you, bubs. So much.” 

He sighed. “This is really hard, huh?” 

You smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah, it is. Just counting down the days until I can see you again.” He stared at you for a moment and nodded.

“Me too, baby.” He laid back on a plushy blue pillow and got comfortable watching you. “Whatcha making?” He sounded like a little kid. 

You laughed. “Fish tacos. I wanted to try something new from that cookbook Sierra bought me for Christmas.” You began slicing up your toppings as you waited for the fish in the oven.

Calum groaned from the other end. “I’m starving and that sounds really good.”

You smirked at the camera before pushing it back so he could see you as you worked. “Why don’t you go eat something, my love?”

“The pizza should be here in twenty minutes, just waiting on that.” You hummed in understanding and continued assembling your ingredients. “You look so cute. I wish I could hug you.”

You blushed a light pink and shook your head. “I would kill for a Calum hug right about now.”

He laughed, adjusting the rim of his bucket hat. “As long as it's not me, I’m cool with that.”

Calum continued to watch you put your dinner together while he waited on his pizza. The last leg of the tour was in America so his timezone wasn’t so different from yours. You weren’t sure exactly what state he was in at the moment. 

“Alright, baby. My pizza’s here.” He frowned and gave you sad eyes at the realization that this would be the end of your call. 

“My dinner’s ready too. I’ll let you go now.” You picked up your phone and held it close to make sure you could see his face before you said goodbye. You don’t really know why it was always so hard to hang up the phone but it felt like a stab in the chest every time you did. 

“Okay, enjoy your food. It looks amazing.”

“Thanks, Cal. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

“Alright, baby. Goodnight.” “Bye, bubs.”

You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, gripping the edge with your left hand. You felt tears prick at your eyes and a familiar burning in your throat. It felt like every day without him he got pushed a little further away. Every day you didn’t get to kiss him was harder than the last. All you wanted was to wrap yourself up in his arms and stay there forever. It felt like every day you were just living to see him again. It sucked. Only one more month. 

***

Calum was officially coming home from tour tomorrow. After 4 long months of agonizing pain and going to sleep alone every night, you would be in Calum’s arms again by midday tomorrow. You spent all day cleaning up the house and making sure that Calum didn’t have anything to worry about when he got home. He would just get to relax and settle back in.

Calum’s name popped up on your screen and you smiled. It was a phone call this time which was a little odd. At this time of night, Calum was normally done with the day and facetimed you. 

You accepted, pushing your questions aside and feeling overcome with excitement at talking to your boyfriend. 

“Hello?” You chirped happily.

“Hi, baby,” Calum said in his groggy bedtime voice. “What’re you up to?” You smiled, biting your lip at how adorable he sounded. 

“I was just about to shower and then watch The Nightmare Before Christmas with Duke.” You ruffled the small dog's fur and gave him a kiss on the nose. It was the perfect mid-October night for a Halloween movie. 

“How’s my little guy?” Calum asked. 

“He’s good, just misses his pops.” You grabbed some pajamas from your drawer and tucked them under your arm. 

“Tell him to hold on a little longer. I’ll give him as many cuddles as he wants tomorrow.” Cal laughs sleepily. 

“And what about me? Don’t I get any cuddles?”

“Baby, I’m going to cuddle you until you’re so sick of me you never want to see my face again.”

You gasped. “Are you kidding me? That’s impossible.”

Calum laughed and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. “I can’t believe I’m gonna have you in my arms in a few hours.”

You blushed. “I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone this much.”

Calum sighed. “It's like I’ve been away from a piece of me for 4 months. I don’t know how I functioned without you.”

Your eyes began to well up with tears for the millionth time since Calum walked onto that plane and left you 4 months ago. You sniffled softly, trying not to let it be known that you were crying. But Calum picked up on it. He always does.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed. “No more tears. I’ll be home before you know it, my love.”

You exhaled the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I know, I know. I just… I love you a lot and sometimes my body doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

The line crackled and you heard Calum laugh lightly. “I can’t think of one thing I’ve done in my life that was so good that somehow…  the universe thought I deserved you… but damn do I feel lucky it did.” 

Before you could cry any harder Calum said he had to let you go and hung up, leaving you to again cope with the overwhelming feelings of excitement and anticipation at the idea of seeing your boyfriend tomorrow.

*

Calum silently unlocked the front door, more concerned about waking Duke than you. The pup had super hearing and would surely wake you up with his barking if he heard Calum coming through the front door.

Calum had maybe decided to bend the truth a little and told you he would be arriving about 12 hours later than he actually would just so he would get the chance to surprise you at home. 

He pulled his luggage softly through the front door and abandoned his suitcase and his shoes there, making a beeline for your shared bedroom. Calum wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with you for the first time in 4 months, his muscles aching with exhaustion. 

He slowly pushed the bedroom door open, the faint sound of Jack Skellington talking still playing softly. 

Calum smiled as he approached you and Duke lying comfortably on the large plush bedding, the small dog tucked tightly into your waist. He was thankful Duke hadn’t woken up so Calum could be the one to let his presence be known.

Calum crouched on his knees next to the bed, taking a few moments to watch you peacefully sleeping before he would wake you up.

After a few minutes of rememorizing every minute detail of your face and watching the rise and fall of your chest as you took in breaths, Calum finally reached a hand up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, caressing your cheek softly with his thumb. 

You stirred softly under his touch but your eyes stayed closed so Calum’s hand fell down to your shoulder. He squeezed it lightly in an attempt to slowly lull you out of sleep and not scare you.

“Baby,” he cooed gently, “wake up.” 

The sound of Calum’s voice made you think you were just having a really good dream but you slowly came to as Calum continued to rub your upper arm. 

Once your eyes fluttered fully open and you were able to take in what exactly was happening, you realized that the man standing in front of you was not a figment of your imagination, he was really there.

“Cal?” You rubbed your eyes hard and looked at him again. He was definitely real.

“That’s me.” He gave you that cheeky smile that you love so much and you immediately dove into his arms, almost knocking the poor guy over. 

“Cal, you’re home,” you ran your fingers through his hair, still not fully believing this wasn’t just a really, really good dream. But no, his hair was real and his body fit against yours like it did the last time you hugged him four months ago and you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, never wanting to let him go. “I missed you so much. This doesn’t feel real.” Calum rubbed his hands softly up and down your skin, under the shirt of his you had on. “I love you.” He said into your shoulder and you felt like you were melting into him.

After a few more minutes like that, you pulled away from Calum and tugged him into bed. He greeted Duke with lots of pets and kisses and as soon as Calum laid down, Duke found a warm spot next to him. 

“You must be exhausted.” You sat upright looking down at him as he lay with his head on his pillow, running your hands through his hair.

He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of your cool hand. “I can’t sleep without you.” He said.

So you sunk down under the covers and Calum pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you and within minutes, you heard soft snores coming from behind you. 

He was finally home.

[tobesobri]

𝒜hh! It’s finally here and I feel very bittersweet about the end of this story. On one hand, this is the first story I had a regular upload schedule with and actually completed in a timely matter so it feels like a big accomplishment to me and I’m excited to get to focus on other things i’ve been working on now! But, at the same time, I love this story and these characters so much so it’s also quite sad that it’s over HOWEVER I am always open to doing little blurbs and extra stuff like that with this story whenever you guys would like to! Okay, I’m gonna go now but I hope you all enjoy this last chapter! It turned out a lot longer than I expected it to so I’m sorry for that lol anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts about this story or just this chapter or whatever you want! thank you for all the love throughout this entire process, it’s been the highlight of my quarantine bhjhbdc 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: IT’S ONLY HUMAN (9.4K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

After dinner, he spread her out on the bed and made her come again, this time while she was wearing his robe. And although it killed him to know how wet she was and not do anything about it, his fears far outweighed his need to go any further. 

They laid together under the covers quietly for a little while afterward while he showed her what she tasted like and they both attempted to catch their breath, not that making out again was helping. But, they really couldn’t keep their mouths or hands off of each other. 

It wasn’t until she slipped her fingers toward the band of his boxer-briefs that everything slowed back down. He pulled away from her and grabbed her wrist before she managed to sneak any farther down his body. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he kissed her palm to soothe the confused and rejected expression on her face. 

“M’too tired.” He whispered against her skin, hoping that would be good enough. He wasn’t as tired as he claimed, he just wasn’t quite ready to go there with her yet. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” She pleaded, just wanting to give him anything she possibly could. 

He shook his head, however, and hid his eyes, giving her hand back to her, “I’m sorry.” 

Her cheeks immediately flushed and she hated how embarrassed she felt because he was allowed to say no, and she knew that more than anyone, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t like putting herself out there as it was and allowing herself to get so lost in the moment she might have made him uncomfortable? It didn’t feel good. 

“I just,” Harry sighed because even though it was dark in his bedroom, he still saw the look on her face and he knew how he would feel if he was in her position. “I didn't do any of this so you’d repay me, Y/N.” 

“But I want to.”

He intertwined his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand to his lips, kissing his gently, “I know... I just don’t want you to.”

She stared at him blankly then, having no clue what he meant by that but also knowing that was the end of the discussion. So she nodded and whispered, “Okay,” and let it go. 

But when she escaped to the bathroom to clean herself up and get a breath of fresh air again, she really couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t want her to. She figured at first that he was still worried about hurting her, as he always had been, but then her mind traveled elsewhere the more she thought about it. She wondered if he would ever have proper sex with her knowing what he knew about her past. If he worried that the only thing he’d be able to think of when he was looking in her eyes while being inside of her was what she’d gone through. And she fucking hated it. 

She splashed water over her face before she started regretting ever telling him anything. She was not falling back into the same pit as before. They were being real with each other now. And as much as the nerves overwhelmed her, she just needed to know why for her own sake. 

With a script going on in her head for what she’d say to Harry, she flipped off the bathroom light and stepped back into his room. She got a few steps in toward his bed until she realized he was out cold. His chest moved at a steady pace as he laid on his back and his eyes were fluttered shut peacefully. He really had been tired, she supposed. 

Sighing, she walked into his closet and replaced his robe onto the hanger where she’d found it before removing her bra and replacing it with one of his shirts. She stood at the windows for a moment, dividing her attention between the all-too-familiar view of L.A. and of Harry. 

After about five minutes, he rolled onto his side and pulled a pillow into his arms. She watched him cuddle into it, holding onto it for dear life while he continued to sleep. Smiling to herself, she walked back over to her side of the bed and crawled under the covers with him again, slowly pulling the pillow out from under his arms. She replaced every inch of it with herself until she finally got the pillow out the way and his arms wrapped around her body instead. He nuzzled his face into her neck with a soft hum when she brought her hand to the top of his head and played with his hair. 

Whatever his reason was she’d get it out of him tomorrow. 

He was already in the shower when she got up the next morning and after an entire five minutes of wondering how much he’d hate her for joining him, she got out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water. 

While she tidied his kitchen, fixing the stack of cookbooks that had gone astray again, his doorbell rang. After she panicked about it for several seconds, she set her glass of water down and went to deal with it. The only thing that calmed her nerves was knowing that whoever was at his front door knew the code to get into his gate and was an approved person to be visiting Harry. And it definitely wasn’t Will. 

Still, she peeked out the front windows first just to see who it was before she opened the door. Upon finding a semi-familiar face, her body fell out of fight-or-flight mode. It was just Harry’s manager. 

He gave her a once over once she finally opened the door and it was then that she realized she was still in Harry’s shirt... and only Harry’s shirt. 

“Sorry, is Harry here?” Jeff asked, his eyes landing on hers again. 

“He’s in the shower. Did you want to come in and wait?” She felt weird about gatekeeping Harry’s house because even though it felt like her home too, it wasn’t. It was weird letting him in as if it was her house. 

Jeff stared at her in disbelief for a moment before he shook his head and walked through the front door after she’d given him space to do so. Shutting the door and locking it again, she turned back to face Jeff, who was, once again, staring oddly at her. 

“Sorry I just... when did this happen?” He motioned to her current attire. When she looked down at herself and didn’t say anything for a moment, he continued. “I mean, I know you two were... but I was under the impression it was complicated.” 

“It’s, uh... not that complicated anymore.” 

Jeff nodded in agreement, “Thank god. Wasn’t kidding when I said he was being a pain in the ass.” He began wandering towards the kitchen and she followed after a moment. 

“He didn’t tell me you were coming over, so I’m gonna go put pants on.” She announced once she caught up to him just as he grabbed a juice from Harry’s fridge. 

“He probably just forgot.” Jeff shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle, “Tell him to hurry his ass up while you're at it.” 

Smiling at him, she then made her way upstairs quickly. She pulled on her spare jeans and walked up cautiously to the bathroom door. The shower wasn’t running anymore so she knocked, not entirely sure what she would have done if he was still in the shower. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her through the closed door and just the thought of opening it and seeing him in all his naked-glory gave her incredible anxiety. And it was mostly for the fact that it was still smack dab in the middle of her mind that he didn’t want to have sex with her and she still didn’t know why. 

Harry pulled the handle and let the door fall open for her as he retreated back in front of the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his lower half like he always did post-shower and gave her a questioning look. 

“Um...” she dragged her eyes back to his face, “Your manager’s here? In the kitchen.” 

After a brief moment of confusion, he muttered, “Shit,” and started towards her. Stepping out of the way, she let him pass by so he could put clothes on and meet Jeff downstairs. What she didn’t expect, however, was for him to step into his closet, not even bothering to shut the door behind him, and drop his towel right there in front of her. After staring blankly at his backside for an entire heart-pounding five seconds, she averted her gaze. 

He got dressed quickly, only throwing on underwear and a pair of grey joggers before stepping back into his bedroom. “Sorry, I forgot he was coming over.” 

She scratched her fingernails along the seams of her pants and chewed on her bottom lip while he grabbed his phone off the charger. When he turned to face her again, he knew something was up. 

“Everything alright?” 

Nodding, she halted her nervous picking at her jeans and exhaled, “Yeah, it’s just... can we talk afterward?” 

“‘Bout what?” He seemed to have no clue what she could possibly want to talk to him about, but she was sure he did have some semblance of a clue. Harry wasn’t stupid. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and cleared her throat to speak but it wasn’t her voice ringing through the room next, rather Jeff’s as he yelled up the stairs. 

“Stop fucking and get down here! I have to leave in twenty!” His voice didn't make Y/N cringe as much as what he said did. They weren’t doing whatever Jeff thought they were, as much as Y/N wished he had, in fact, interrupted something, they just simply weren't. And Y/N desperately wanted to know why. 

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at her again from across the room, “You’re welcome to come down, we’re just discussing promotional stuff.” 

Her heart sank when he didn’t mention their previous conversation at all as he turned to leave the room. And she thought he might not ever again until he paused in the doorway and turned right back around in a huff of air and with shaking hands. 

“I know what you want to talk about. When he’s gone, I promise we will.” 

It was enough to get her through the entire time Jeff was over and after she brushed her teeth and mentally prepared what she’d say to Harry, she joined them downstairs cautiously. She still wasn’t used to being with Harry when they weren’t alone and it made her feel out of place when she joined them in the living room and sat on the complete opposite end of the couch from Harry. 

It felt like she still had to keep a secret, even though Jeff apparently knew everything. Maybe that was another thing they had to talk about... what were they exactly? They both said they loved each other, but she still didn’t consider Harry her boyfriend. 

Jeff gave her a funny look as she sat down, which was transferred to Harry almost immediately. A wave of awkwardness crashed over the entire room until Harry cleared his throat. 

“Uh, so yeah, I’m fine with those... what about the release date though? I don’t agree with next summer.” 

Harry and Jeff went on for a while, going between what promo events they wanted to do and trying to decide on a reasonable release for the album. And while Y/N tried to follow, she just simply couldn’t, especially when Harry’s phone dinged and he glanced her way with an anxiety-inducing look of bewilderment. 

“It’s Will,” Harry glanced down at his phone again, pausing the previous conversation as he skimmed the text one more time before handing the device over to Y/N for her to read it herself. 

(Will, 11:46 a.m.) 

Hey, sorry I bailed on your surprise party. I’m sure Y/N told you what happened. I know you’ve turned down all my offers recently, but I really want to make it up to you and I could use the company. Everyone’s going to be home tonight if you want to come over around six? 

She’d been hoping when Will said he’d be home tonight, that he meant he’d be home with only enough time to spare to get ready for bed so he’d be well rested for work tomorrow. Not that he’d be inviting Harry over when all she wanted to do was feed her roommates another excuse and sleep in Harry’s bed tonight, not her own. Where they could figure things out and hopefully go someplace new that wasn’t as feasible in her own bed. 

It also put a bitter taste in her mouth to read that Harry had been refusing Will’s previous invites to come over. She had no right to, but she had still hoped one night Harry would have shown up at her apartment anyway after she’d left him and avoided his texts. And she hated that she used his inaction as further proof that he didn’t feel anything towards her in that way. Now she understood why he didn’t. 

Because Harry would have let her go too, if he thought in doing so it would make her happy, no matter how much he needed her. And she couldn’t blame him for that. She also couldn’t blame him for being mad or not wanting to see her when she left without talking to him first. When she asked him to forget about their first kiss like it was meaningless to her. When she didn’t give him a single reason why she didn’t want him to move out. 

“What should I say?” Harry asked as she returned his phone. 

She shrugged, “Do you want to come over?” 

She could tell the same thoughts were flashing through his mind too, that, no, he didn’t really want to. He wanted to spend every waking minute of the rest of their peaceful Sunday with Y/N and no one else. But formulating some elaborate lie as to why both Y/N and Harry wouldn’t be at the apartment seemed almost impossible. 

Harry typed away in his phone for a moment before clicking it off after he sent the message, “Suppose I should get you home soon then?” 

She nodded but didn’t really want to agree. She needed to at least make it look like she’d been in her own room since Will left her there yesterday morning. And she definitely needed to be there whenever Will got back. 

“Wait a second,” Jeff sat forward, interrupting, “you two still haven’t told anyone about... this?” He motioned between the both of them and Y/N was relieved she wasn’t the only one confused as to what Harry and her were. 

Harry sighed and leaned back against the couch, “It kinda just happened.” 

It did just happen. But they did not just happen. They started over a month ago now. It used to be a secret because neither one of them wanted to explain the sad situation they were in. That both of them were so fucking lonely they couldn’t sleep without each other. That they weren’t keeping secret hookups from everyone. Now, however, there wasn’t really a reason to hide anymore. 

Even thinking about telling Will, however, made Y/N’s heart race. She’d already lied about it once, she couldn’t imagine how mad he’d be to find out the truth. 

“Are you going to? Because that’s a whole PR nightmare...” Jeff glanced towards Y/N, “on second thought... maybe you should keep it just between you two.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the wonderful advice.” 

It was quiet for a moment until Y/N glanced at Harry and then he found her eyes too and gave her a reassuring smile, “S’up to you. They're your roommates.” 

It was up to her. Harry didn’t care either way. But what would they say if they did tell the three people she lived with? That they were dating? That it just happened? 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” She mumbled before getting up from the couch. Harry eyed her carefully as she walked past him and until he could no longer see her as she disappeared up the stairs. 

“Not a fine line with her anymore then, huh?” Jeff teased.

Harry threw a pillow at his face, “Shut up.” Then after a moment, changed the subject, “I was thinking December next year actually...” 

Y/N paused at the doorway when she heard Jeff and Harry’s muffled voices at the end of the stairs, and, peeking out from his bedroom, saw them as they stood at Harry’s front entrance, Jeff’s hand on the knob ready to leave. 

Her shower had been quick on account of her only bringing a few essentials and nothing else. She didn’t shave or put on a face mask. Just washed everything in about seven minutes, and got out. And now she was hiding behind a wall, eavesdropping on their conversation while her wet hair soaked into the back of her shirt. 

“See you tomorrow then.” Jeff assured, “And tell your girlfriend I said sorry for giving you guys shitty advice.” 

Your. Girlfriend.

She tensed up awaiting Harry’s response to that.

He chuckled and she feared for the worse. “My girlfriend isn’t my girlfriend yet.” 

“You two need to figure your shit out already. I’m exhausted.” 

“Planning on it.” Harry mumbled so that Y/N could just barely make it out. But when it registered what he said, she felt that same old fluttering feeling in her stomach that only Harry knew how to cause. 

“Hope so. Don’t want you to come in tomorrow crying your eyes out again, alright?” And then the fluttering shifted upwards to her chest. Heartbreak. 

She didn’t hear anything else besides Harry’s familiar exasperated chuckling and a very faint, “Okay,” before the front door opened and then shut a few seconds later. And when she peeked out again, Harry stood alone in the foyer. She watched him for a moment as he just seemed to stare off into space, but she couldn’t be sure the way his back faced her. It said more than enough though. He was tense. 

Jeff was gone and he promised to talk. She almost felt like telling him they could do it some other time. But not communicating wasn't exactly their thing anymore. 

Mustering all the confidence she could, she made her way down the stairs, catching his attention at the halfway point when he turned to face her in the, now quiet, entryway. 

She stopped when she made it to the bottom and caved. No words came out, not even the ones she wanted to start with, teasing him about the girlfriend thing. Just... nothingness. 

So he said something first, but it wasn’t without sucking in a breath of air and hiding his shaky hands in his pockets, “It’s not because I don’t want you, Y/N, believe me, I do. I always have.” 

Her words got stuck again as she just stared at him, not even sure where to begin, but then his voice took over once more.

“I’m just scared that if I make the wrong move and hurt you, you’ll think of me differently... and I don’t want that.” 

He didn’t want her to think of him differently. To associate him with her past in any way. She thought back to when they’d been fighting over that pillow and he made the wrong move. Is that why he was so scared? He didn’t want to do that again? 

She took the last few steps toward him until she was only inches away. “Even if that happens, Harry, I won’t think of you any differently. You don’t think of me any differently, do you?” 

He shook his head immediately, but it seemed as if his words were caught on his tongue now too as his eyes began to glass over. 

“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” She began again, reaching her hand up to wipe away the wetness underneath his eye when the panicking tear had finally escaped. “You’re not him.” 

He nodded, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment and when he opened them again, they weren’t as full of sadness and anxiety. “I know, but what if I--” 

She pressed her thumb against his lips and he stopped talking. “You won’t. I do want you too, you know.” 

When he laughed, she made it a point to remember his smile because it seemed like she’d been going without it recently for way too long. She glanced up at his eyes when the noise faded, just before pulling him into her arms. 

She wasn’t much of a hugger, but she supposed it was just another thing about her that Harry had managed to dismantle. Or maybe it was her all this time, breaking down all of her own comfort zones with a little bit of his help along the way. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck at first, breathing her in as he wrapped his arms around her too and brought her closer. 

“Maybe we can try tonight?” He whispered softly after a moment, his lips at her ear. 

“At my place?”

He shrugged, “We’re going to tell them, aren’t we?”

There was the other thing they hadn’t discussed yet. 

“What exactly would we say if we did?” She asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment, burying his face again before resting his chin on her shoulder. “They don’t have to know everything.”

She shook both of them laughing, “That still doesn’t answer my question.” 

He pulled back from her embrace until he was able to look into her eyes again. “We can just tell them we’ve been seeing each other. And that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” 

She didn’t want a big, cheesy smile to flood her entire face, but her mouth completely betrayed her. “I don’t recall you ever asking me that...” 

“I’m asking you now... will you?” 

Y/N also hated labeling things. But being Harry’s girlfriend was an exception she’d more than allow. 

“I guess.” She rolled her eyes dramatically like she didn’t actually care as much as she did. It was her thing though and she never failed to make Harry laugh, so he’d allow that too. 

“I guess,” he parroted, in a higher-pitched tone to mock her playfully. “I guess we’re dating now then and I guess I’ll come over and have sex with you too.” 

She didn’t love him any more than she did at that moment. 

After making out in the kitchen while they unsuccessfully made waffles, and after going through Starbucks instead and eating in the front seat of his car while watching the freeway, it was past two o’clock and her nerves were on fire thinking about making it home before Will did. 

She still wasn’t sure about telling everyone, and how that might change things with Harry, so as far as she was concerned, she was keeping it a secret until she was absolutely sure she no longer wanted it to be. 

So after lazing around with Harry on his bed for the rest of the afternoon, he drove her home. 

And six o’clock came a lot slower than it ever had. Will got home around five-thirty, giving Y/N plenty of time to make her room look lived in and for her to start some laundry. And change her clothes so that every inch of her didn’t ooze Harry. 

Violet and James arrived shortly after, Violet because she’d recently been going home on the weekends to take care of her grandma and James because he was James and didn’t spend much time at the apartment anyway. But also because he had his own weekend getaway with his girlfriend. 

Y/N joined them when she smelled Chinese takeout. 

Will pulled her against his side, draping his arm around her shoulder, once she was close enough. “I know we all work tomorrow but I really needed to just hang out tonight after everything. So thanks for being here... even though yall live here.” 

Violet began digging into the containers as Will pulled his arm away from Y/N to do the same just before a lightbulb went off in his head, “Oh, I also invited Harry and he said he’d come, but,” Will checked his watch, “he’s late.” 

Y/N glanced at the clock on the stove to confirm it. He was late. By almost ten minutes. She hadn’t realized the time until now even though it had been the only thing on her mind all day. 

Her appetite plummeted when she started worrying about why he was late. Eight minutes wasn’t anything to lose her mind over, she knew that, but considering what they’d discussed earlier, she began to think that he was, for lack of a better term, chickening out. 

He was thirteen minutes late when he finally arrived, blaming it on the fact that he didn’t think about bringing anything until he was already halfway to their apartment and then made a quick stop. When he pulled out a bag of Hershey Kisses and set them in front of Y/N on the counter, however, she forgave him for the five minutes he made her spend worrying. 

He also brought two bottles of wine and a family-sized bag of spicy Doritios with him too. So it was officially a party. 

Everyone took their food to the dining table and Y/N tried not to make it obvious she was headed straight for the seat beside Harry. They’d never sat not on opposite sides, but they’d also never been officially dating either. 

The opportunity to spill everything never really came the way Y/N would have liked it to. And, sure, she was using that as her excuse, but Violet was also extremely chatty, more than usual. 

After a couple minutes, when they’d all already made a dent in their meals, Y/N tuned everyone out and got lost in her head. Her right hand rested on her thigh while she twirled chow-mein around her fork with the other. She knew Harry would never do it for her, unless she explicitly asked him to, and seeing as she hadn’t done that beforehand, telling her roommates was solely up to her. And she didn’t have the balls to do that yet. 

She felt his fingers brush against hers under the table and it brought her out of her reprieve, even more so when Harry wrapped his hand completely around hers, lacing their fingers on top of her leg and giving her a gentle squeeze. 

Glancing at him, however, he pretended like nothing was happening under the table at all as he continued eating and never once met her eyes. He just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to say anything if she didn’t want to, and he was okay no matter what she decided. With his hand still firmly around hers, it was enough reassurance to actually eat the noodles she’d been absently playing with. 

A loud snore rang through the living room just moments before Will rolled over on his side and his back faced the only two people still awake. Her other two roommates already retreated to their bedrooms once the movie ended, but Will hadn’t made it that far. He had passed out about halfway through and, apart from a few seconds ago, hadn’t made a sound or moved the entire time since. 

It was nearing nine o’clock when Y/N took herself and her big fluffy blanket to Harry’s couch, sitting right beside him as she covered both of them in it and cuddled into his side. She’d wanted to do it since she was forced into a spot nowhere near him, but considering her inability to tell her roommates about her and Harry, she had to suffer through the entire movie sitting next to Violet. 

Now, however, she wasted no time getting comfortable and neither did he. Sure, she still glanced over at Will a lot, just to make sure, but she also wouldn’t mind too much if he woke up and found them together. 

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so that she was using his chest as a pillow while they watched what was left of a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode. He gave her a suspicious look when he heard crinkling coming from underneath the blanket, but his questions were answered when her hand poked out from underneath and she held a Hershey’s kiss right in front of his lips. Grinning, he opened his mouth and let her pop the piece of candy in. She was still just as weird as she always was and he was still just as in love with it and with her. 

But when she pushed up to connect their mouths, after giving Will another quick glance, he was positive she just wanted him to taste like chocolate when she kissed him. He didn’t really care that much though, he’d wanted to kiss her all night anyway. 

It went from an innocent, soft kiss to something deeper a lot faster than either of them intended. It suddenly became the way they kissed each other only when no one else was around, and yet they were doing it right in the middle of her apartment, where Violet could walk out and see them or Will could turn over and catch them. And she suddenly just... didn't really care. 

But then Harry’s hand was on her thigh, his fingertips trailing north someplace they’d already explored before and she quickly grabbed his wrist in a gasp and broke away from him. “Can we try now?” She whispered. 

He looked terrified but he still nodded, he still followed as she pulled them both up from the couch, as she laced her fingers with his and led the way to her bedroom. Even though his nerves were on fire, he still closed the door behind them when she was far too concerned with attaching their lips again. He was thankful for it, though, when she pushed him against the door and a gasping noise came out of him that might’ve woken everyone in the apartment if her mouth hadn’t muffled it. 

“Do you have um...? Because I don't...” She whispered, pulling away but keeping her eyes glued to his lips. Overthinking every little detail about this very moment had become her pastime earlier in the day, and amongst stressing about whether or not Harry would let her keep the lights off, she worried about protection and her lack thereof. She never really needed it and hoped Harry was more prepared than she was. 

His hand slipped from her face to his front pocket where he dug out two condoms and held them up to her. “I didn't go to the store to buy your favorite candy... realized when I was about two minutes away that I didn’t bring any.” 

It oddly soothed her nerves that he went out of his way to get them. That he could have come here without them and use that as another reason not to sleep with her. He was, most definitely not, chickening out. 

She took them from him and ventured further into her room, leaving him with his back pressed against the door, watching her curiously as she set the condoms down on her bedside table and flipped her lamp off that she’d left on from earlier. 

“Is that okay?” She asked and even though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness engulfing them, he could still tell she’d turned to face him again. Slowly, he stepped up to her, making out her features when he was close enough to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable is always okay, Y/N.” He felt her smile with his thumb pressed to her cheek more than he saw it, especially when it disappeared as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and made room between them again as she pulled it over her head. 

He sucked in a breath of air watching her, the dim light annoyed him, but her needs came first, way before his own selfish need to see her properly did. Maybe one day she’d be fine with that, but he respected that right now she wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter when he felt her fingertips glide down his arms until she wrapped them around his wrists and pulled his hands up to her waist. Maybe one day he’d touch her without her guiding him, too. 

They had all the time in the world to get it right, he supposed. 

His hands slipped up her sides, his thumbs grazing the underwire of her bra, having no idea if she was okay with taking it off. It escaped his mind when she moved her hands from his wrists to her jeans and before she even got the button undone, his hands came over the top of hers, gently pushing her aside so he could at least do one thing himself. 

Her heart raced while he slowly undid the zip and then tucked his fingers under the band at her hips, tugging her jeans off. As soon as he had them down to her thighs, she sat on the edge of her bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he slid them off and into the pile with her shirt.    

It quickly gained a couple more pieces of fabric as he pulled his own shirt off and she dealt with his pants, too. Soon enough, they were on the same playing field and he gained a bit more courage as he kissed her again, slowly laying her back on the bed and bringing his knee up to the mattress next to her for better leverage. 

He had no idea if he was going too fast or too slow, but he trusted her to tell him if it was too much. 

So when she pressed her hands flat onto his chest and pushed him away, he nearly had a heart attack. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, seeing the outline of both confusion and terror on his face, “can we get under the blanket? I’m cold.” 

There was no subtlety in the way he sighed, relieved she hadn’t pushed him away for the other reasons he had feared. He whispered, “Okay,” against her lips and moved. Standing away from her, he gave her room to crawl under the covers, maneuvering the pillows under her head until she was comfortable and then folded the blanket over to invite him in. 

Despite it being objectively chilly in their apartment, Harry didn’t exactly share her concerns. His body temperature just seemed to increase the closer he got to her, reaching an all-time high when he got back into bed with her and she wasted no time picking up where they left off. 

His skin burned everywhere she touched him. When she gripped his biceps and just about forced him back on top of her, when her fingertips traced over his butterfly tattoo in a way he was familiar with. When her hands finally settled at the back of his neck and she played with the ends of his hair while they kissed. 

He took some of the lead again, moving so that he settled between her legs and reached his hand down to her thigh to let her know it was okay to wrap herself around him. And when they were that close, it was easy to feel just how hot Harry had gotten. 

And when she felt him, there was no stopping the moan that escaped from her lips, even though she had no idea where it came from. It almost sounded foreign, like Harry had been the one moaning, not her, but unless he knew how to throw his voice, she knew that it was most definitely not him that made that ungodly sound. 

Smiling against her mouth, he pressed his hips into her a little more and they both rather quickly warmed up to the idea of having fewer layers between them already. 

While he kissed her and while his hands wandered, particularly to her chest, she reached over and blindly sought out the condoms, her fingers traveling along the wooden top of her nightstand a few frustrating moments until she finally grazed the foil packaging. And then she tucked them right into Harry’s hand. 

He took the hint, although hesitantly, and sat back on his knees. While he tore along the perforation to separate the two he brought--just in case--she sat in restless anticipation, admiring the way what little light there was reflected off his skin. She thought about being with him like this way too often, more than she’d ever admit to him. She thought about his shoulders and his arms that spent the past month holding her so innocently and how much she wished she had other memories that involved his arms. But, now, here she was, tracing the curves of his muscles all the way down to where he was currently preoccupied. 

And well... shit.

Harry was anything but small. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, only glancing at her while most of his focus remained on sliding the condom on himself, but he could still tell she’d tensed up a bit. 

Swallowing, her eyes flickered towards his face again. “It’s probably obvious but um... I’ve never actually... besides...” 

That seemed to do the trick of putting his entire focus straight on her as his fingers froze in place and his nostrils flared. She couldn’t quite tell if it was in a bad way or not yet, not until he opened his mouth. 

“If you don’t want to--” 

“No. I do.” 

He nodded slightly, fitting the condom on all the way finally and sighed, “I’ll be careful, I promise.” 

Before he made any of the moves towards her that she desperately wanted him to, he slipped himself out of his boxers and joined them with their mixed pile of clothes. She couldn’t quite tell which she enjoyed more, his jeans on her floor or her dress on his. 

Right when she thought he was coming back to kiss her, he instead spread himself down the length of the bed and settled his shoulders between her legs, not at all unlike he had last night. He worked a lot quicker though, possibly because he knew he’d made her wait long enough and because he was also sick of waiting. But, making sure she was more than ready for him was currently at the top of his priorities list. 

He tucked his index finger underneath her panties and pulled them to the side, causing her to squirm in a way he was already used to. Holding her down, he made himself at home all over again. She was already wet, that much he knew, but it didn’t take long before she turned into a puddle around his fingertips and he figured there was no point in waiting any longer. 

Fitting his hips back between her legs, he kissed her cheek softly and then brushed his lips past her ear. “I need you to tell me if you want to stop, okay? Don’t let me keep going if you don’t want to.” 

The bubbling pressure in her stomach got so bad it made her dizzy, but she loved every second of it because he was making her feel that way. Although, it did concern her when he hadn’t even really done anything yet and she was already that much of a mess for him. 

She nodded when he came back to look into her eyes, eyes that he got lost in one too many times. He didn’t see them all that clearly now, but just enough shone through the darkness to assure him that she would do what he asked. 

His lips were at her mouth next, kissing her softly as his hand disappeared under the covers between them until she felt him pushing her legs further apart, slipping her panties out of the way again. And then it really was him moaning when he guided himself almost painfully slowly inside of her. She dug her nails into his back and kissed him harder to subside the pain of him stretching her out but never once did she want him to stop. 

He did, however, when she gasped and he felt her tensing up around him, making it impossible for him to go any further even if he wanted to. 

He pulled his lips away and used his free hand to swipe loose strands of hair from her face, “Need me to stop?” 

“No, just...” she sighed, not wanting to admit what she was about to admit, knowing it would possibly freak him out, but she felt like she had to, “you’re kind of abnormally... big and it hurts a little.” 

The little smirk on his face lasted for about half a second and before he could say anything, she cut him off just as he opened his mouth. “But I don’t want you to stop.” 

Sighing, he adjusted his weight on top of her, “You have to relax then, Y/N. It’ll hurt worse if you don’t and I don’t want that.” 

Nodding, she knew he was right and she knew he wasn’t doing anything else until she did. So, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, inhaling deep and exhaling all of her doubts and her worries. Once he felt her body start to unwind itself again, he got right back to it. Until he was muffling the noise coming out of his mouth as he filled her up as far as he could until finally bottoming out. 

He stayed there for a moment, contemplating on telling her how good she felt. Good didn’t even begin to cover it though. He couldn’t even think of the right word. Hell, he couldn't even think straight to begin with. She took him right back to that summery day on the beach again in his head. She was warm like the bright sun reflecting off the waves. Soft like the sand under his fingertips. He could stay there for hours. 

Instead, he only stayed there for a few more moments, until he was confident she was somewhat accustomed to him and then he did it all over again. Using his hips to slide out and then right back into her only a smidge faster this time. She still gasped into his mouth, still dug her fingernails into his skin, but she had completely let go this time. 

A few more times exactly like that and then she was in his ear, pleading with him to, “please go faster, I’m okay. Just... please Harry.” 

He did as she asked almost immediately, picking up the pace with each and every thrust as she continued to beg him to go faster. It wasn’t until he adjusted his weight, his arms cramping in their current position, that he was able to get a little deeper, that she moaned so loud he had to clamp his hand down over her mouth before she woke up not only her roommates, but the entire floor. If they were at his house, he would have let her scream all she wanted and he would’ve basked in it too because he already knew it took a lot to get anything out of her. So hearing her now turned him on more than ever before--if that were possible. 

He grinned cockily as he continued to hit the same spot that made her moan in the first place, and that continued to make her eyes roll back in her head. “Feels good?” He asked, his voice shaky with his motions and she just nodded, still with her eyes closed and his hand over her mouth. Giggling, he slipped his hand away and kissed her again. 

It didn’t take too long, but they were both close to losing all control in a matter of seconds when she wrapped a hand around his bicep and asked him to stop. And he did, straight away without a second thought, pulling out and searching her face to make sure she was alright. 

Her eyes were still fluttered shut as she breathed heavily through her mouth, but once she finally found her words, they came out as a self-conscious whisper. “Can I get on top?” 

It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, per se. Overwhelmed was a better description. And when she was overwhelmed, her mind liked to kick into overdrive. Maybe she’d asked too much of Harry too soon, or it was the fact that she couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she knew she’d just feel better if she was the one with more control again. 

He nodded, “Sure.” Even though he was a lot more into the idea than he was letting on. He had no clue she’d be into riding him or they might’ve been doing that all along. It didn’t matter now though, as he held her close to support her weight and flipped them over so that he was on his back now and she straddled his waist. 

He kicked off as much of the blanket as he could from his legs while she made sure it was firmly wrapped around herself and he helped as she fit him back into place, nearly slipping off the edge early when he felt her fingers on him for the first time. 

And then they were picking up where they left off, but it felt a million times more amazing, again, if that were even possible. His hands slipped down to her waist, digging his fingers in and guiding her. He couldn’t quite help the way his hips bucked up into her when she didn’t go fast enough, but he also didn’t want to make her do something she didn’t want to do. So he dealt with it, bit down on his lip until he nearly drew blood, and sunk into her pillows with his eyebrows pulled tight. Because, fuck, she felt amazing but also, fuck, he wanted so much more. 

She planted her hands right on top of the butterfly, feeling how slick his skin was with sweat and not being as insecure about her own on her forehead. She felt his leg twitch from underneath her while she rode him, knowing she wasn’t doing enough, not at all like he’d been doing. But the new position made her feel so much better and watching him writhing below her was oddly satisfying. 

“Shit,” he whined suddenly, his eyes peeking out at her only briefly before his head fell back again. “Come’ere, please.” His begging came with his hands slipping up her belly and around to her back until she was laying on top of him, wrapping her arms up under his neck as she shared some of the control with him again. 

His fingers were back at her hips within a millisecond, thrusting up into her this time just as quickly as he’d gone when their roles were reversed. She buried her head in the crook of his neck after kissing him when she could no longer hold on. When neither of them could. When he was gasping for air and she was nearly tearing his hair out, whispering how much she loved him in his ear as he took them both up to the clouds. 

His hips stopped, slamming against her as he buried himself deep again and came just as she did, having to muffle his moans into her shoulder while tears stung his eyes and he had no fucking idea he was crying until she lifted herself to look at him and wiped at his cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” She whispered. He hadn’t even pulled out of her yet and he was fucking crying. 

Lifting his own hand to his face, while the other one remained on her hip, he hid in embarrassment, trying to make his stupid reaction go away. He’d never cried before and wasn’t sure why he was now. 

“Hey,” she pouted, pulling at his wrist to get him to stop. He looked at her through glassy eyes while she held onto his hand, kissing the back of it to calm him down. 

“Sorry. I... don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay." She assured. "If it’s any consolation, I like you even more now.” 

When he laughed, she became all too aware again that he was still very much inside of her. “Even though I cry after having sex?” 

She shrugged, “You’re only human, right?” 

They laid in their same old ways, with him on his back, her curled into his side and his arm firmly around her shoulders, twirling her hair around his fingers, for a few peaceful minutes afterward. That was until the knock on her door that pulled them both from their bubble and filled their heads with a million different worries. The most prominent being that they’d been too loud and woke someone up. There really was no way of explaining themselves out of that. 

Y/N cleared her throat and jolted up to the edge of her bed, facing the door. “One second.” 

She located her shirt on the floor quickly, throwing it over her head in a panic when the only thing on her mind was what excuse she would be using. Stepping up to the door, she took a deep breath and brushed her hair down, praying that this was not how her roommates found out, when she could still feel Harry inside her and her cheeks were still flushed. 

She turned the knob and cracked the door open just far enough to peek out, in almost the exact same way she had the first time she was forced to hide the fact that Harry was in her bed. 

Will stood on the other side, yawning with squinted eyes and slouched shoulders. It was obvious he’d just woken up and she prayed a second time it wasn’t because he heard the noises coming from her room. 

“Hey, uh, sorry for knocking out, I didn’t get much sleep this weekend.” He yawned again and she sighed in relief. “Did Harry leave already?” 

“Uh—“ She started but when she saw the way Will’s brows twisted in confusion as he glanced down the front of her, she was quickly cut off. 

“Isn’t that his shirt?”

She glanced behind her just in time to find Harry hiding his face in his hands. Shit.

She was fucked. There was no explaining it, at least not in any way that Will would ever believe. She stupidly put Harry's graphic tee on instead of her own and there was no going back from it.

Will’s hand came to the door and he pushed it open when she continued to remain quiet. He got it open just far enough to find Harry perched against her pillows, shirtless and flashing him a deer in headlights kind of look as he slipped his hands down his face. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shh!” She pressed her hand to Will’s chest, begging him to be quiet. It was bad enough him finding out this way, she didn’t need anyone else waking up right now either. 

“You lied to me.” He accused, eyes still wide and in disbelief but he kept his voice down this time. “How long has this been going on?” 

She couldn’t tell if he was more angry or upset and hurt, but either way she didn’t like it. “I’m sorry.” 

Will’s eyes fell back on her and he grew even more distressed, “How long, Y/N?” 

Out of fear more than anything else, she responded honestly and sheepishly. “Couple months we’ve been seeing each other.” 

“Two months?” Will repeated, taking a step closer and forcing Y/N back into her room so that he could get a good look at Harry. “All those fucking songs were about my goddamn roommate? You’ve been going behind my back and lying to me all this fucking time?” 

“Will.” She tried to get him to calm down again. 

“Don’t Will me. I knew there was something going on after that party but you told me you didn’t like him. What the fuck, Y/N?” 

She cringed, hoping Harry would have never had to find out about what she told Will to convince him their reckless partying was only just that. Meaningless, when it was, in fact, not. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, both to Will and to Harry, when she glanced back at him again to find his eyes glued to his hands instead of the mess at her door. Then she brought her attention back to Will, “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know how.” 

Will’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. “I mean, a simple, ‘hey I’m sleeping with your best friend, is that cool?’ would have sufficed.” 

She pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down on them, not wanting to add any fuel to the fire by correcting him. Will’s idea of them sleeping together was most definitely not their own, but she supposed Will didn’t need to know the whole truth.    

“God!” Will continued, but still not being loud enough to wake anyone, “This is why you didn’t care about me leaving you at his house the other night?” 

Her silence answered that question more than enough. 

“Jesus,” Will ran his hand down his chin but it did seem like he was finally calming down. “Shit, well sorry for interrupting. Me and yall are gonna have a chat tomorrow though when I’m not half-asleep.” 

Y/N nodded eagerly, perfectly okay with that as long as he was no longer angry at them.

“But Harry,” Will backtracked and stressed Y/N out again, “I know you both already fucked with each other’s feelings, but if you hurt her again, I will kill you.”

Harry swallowed, finding not a single ounce of insincerity in Will’s threat and so he nodded obediently, not that he had any intentions of ever hurting Y/N again. 

“Fuck, okay,” Will huffed, “goodnight, then.” Reluctantly, he left, giving them one last look over his shoulder like he still didn’t believe it, and like they were both actually insane, but, finally, he was gone. And after she watched him saunter off down the hall to his bedroom, she closed the door and locked it for good measure. 

It was quiet in her room for a long time, or what felt like a long time anyways. The giant elephant Will had left between them made her refrain from turning around and looking at Harry without having something prepared to say to him. 

He said it first, however.

“You told him you didn't like me?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a moment to catch her breath, and then turned. And he looked just as heartbroken as she imagined he would. “It was a while ago. He asked me if there was something going on between us after he saw us dancing at that party. What was I supposed to say?” 

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Anything would have been better than that.” 

“Are you mad at me?” She whispered, praying that he wasn’t because she couldn’t handle what just happened with Will and Harry being upset with her too. 

His eyes shot back to hers in a heartbeat, “No.” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, “I get why you said it.” 

“I know this is an understatement, but I don’t really know how to express my feelings very well, Harry. I did like you back then, more than I should have. And I do love you now, more than I know what to do with.” 

That seemed to settle his worries when his lips spread into the slightest bit of a smile. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then.” 

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, unable to conceal her grin especially not when they found each other’s gazes and a moment later he pulled the blanket back to invite her in this time. 

“Guess the cat should get her ass back over here now.” 

Once she was there, in his arms again, all feelings of insecurity and doubt washed away, it felt like home. Especially when he pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered something she’d never get sick of hearing coming out of his mouth. 

“I guess I love you too.” 

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[henrycavillobsessed]

Porcelain

Characters: Henry Cavill x Anwen Evans (fictional fiance)

Summary: Henry and Anwen’s life was perfect. Until one day, one phone call, changes everything.

Words: 3,444

TW/CW: Death, car accident, description of injuries, hospital, grief. Slight mention of implied sex; some bad language. 

Notes: So here it is, my latest fanfic. It’s been a while, due to a bit of a mind block. The idea for this came to me, after being inspired by the song Porcelain by Emarosa (link below in case you’re interested). This one is different to my other fics, for one it’s not the usual Henry x reader narrative. I have created a character this time to act as his partner. Also this one is LONG (3,444 words). I have enjoyed writing a longer and more complex story and I hope you enjoy reading it. (As a warning, it’s SAD. I am not ashamed to admit I cried just writing it.)

Link to song: https://open.spotify.com/track/7rk8cH53nI8ffb5ZccjfpT?si=QMVvEmA3TK-3WuQXJanMmQ

“Oww! Shit!”

Henry looked up from the book he was reading in bed. Anwen was rubbing her forehead and looking very wounded. She’d clearly just walked into the doorframe. Again. Henry laughed out loud.

“Don’t laugh at me!” A pillow flew through the air and missed its target of Henry’s face by a considerable amount. He laughed again. 

“I can’t help it. You are so clumsy!”

Anwen climbed into bed, still massaging the sore spot on her head. She scowled at Henry. “If I remember correctly Mr Cavill, it was because of me being clumsy that meant we met for the very first time.”

“Hmm,” Henry reached over and gathered her up in his arms, leaning back against the headboard. He kissed her gently on the faint bruise that was blooming on her pale skin. “I do remember,” he said fondly. 

          It had been over five years ago now. Henry was out with his friend and colleague Simon Pegg, drinking their way through some of London’s best nightclubs. It had been a great night so far, with both men enjoying their freedom; they’d recently finished filming their latest movie and were celebrating. Henry was feeling happily tipsy, and when Simon offered to go to the bar for another round, he didn’t refuse. 

“Get some shots too!” he shouted at Simon’s back as he left their table. Simon waved a hand in response; Henry took that as a yes and smiled. He was just checking his Instagram on his phone when something- someone- crashed into him and he felt the cold wetness of a spilt drink over his shoulder and down his shirt. He looked up incredulously. A woman was stood there with an empty glass and an equally shocked expression.

“Oh, my go- I am so sorry!” she said in a very attractive Welsh accent, Henry thought. He felt his annoyance dissipate immediately. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, accidents happen. How much have you had to drink anyway?” he asked cheekily. 

The woman’s ivory skin blushed, contrasting prettily with her ebony hair, which was cascading around her shoulders in thick waves.

“Um, I actually don’t drink,” she admitted. “I have just shown you how uncoordinated I am; I really don’t need to throw alcohol into the mix.” 

“Very wise. Hi, I’m Henry Cavill.”

“Anwen Evans, nice to meet you.” They shook hands and were making pleasant small talk when Simon returned with the drinks.

“What on earth happened to your shirt?” he asked Henry. 

“Anwen happened. Anwen, this is my friend Simon Pegg.” 

Anwen’s face lit up. “I love your movies! Hot Fuzz is just hilarious!” she said to Simon, who smiled widely and they spent the next few moments quoting lines from the film. Simon looked sideways at Henry, and saw the way he was looking at Anwen, and cleared his throat.

“Well, it’s been lovely to meet you, but I must get on. Henry, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, winking at his friend. Henry mouthed a silent thank you, grinning. 

After Anwen explained to her girlfriend’s that she was going to continue the night with Henry, prompting a lot of excited giggling and whispering, she sat herself down at Henry’s table. The hours flew by as they got to know each other. Anwen was an up-and-coming chef, who’d recently opened a new restaurant nearby in London. She told Henry about the restaurant’s menu, and Henry promised to try it out soon. In return, Henry told her about the films he’d been in. He was mock-outraged when Anwen admitted she’d never seen a Superman movie, let alone Man of Steel, and laughing, she promised she’d check it out soon. Conversation naturally flowed between them, Henry felt so at ease with her, and it turned out they had quite a bit in common. As Henry told Anwen about his akita Kal, Anwen told him she also had a dog, a golden retriever named Ciri.

“Ciri?” Henry had asked. “As in Ciri from The Witcher?”

“Yeah! I’m such a huge fan, I’ve read all the books, and I’ve played all the games!”

Henry laughed. “You are never going to believe who I’ve just been cast as for my next job…” Anwen’s jaw dropped to the floor when he told her. 

The night ended with Henry walking Anwen home to her nearby townhouse, and they shared their first kiss on the doorstep, swapping numbers with the promise to meet up again soon for a date.

          Now back in the present, nearly six years later, Anwen had moved into Henry’s penthouse, with Ciri who Kal adored. Both dogs were curled up at the end of the bed now, fast asleep.

In Henry’s arms, Anwen cuddled in close. “Yes, so if it wasn’t for me tripping and drenching you that night we wouldn’t be here now, so stop taking the piss!”  

“Okay, okay!” Henry laughed. “I do worry though, you know. You’re like… like porcelain. So easily broken. Be more careful, I’d hate for something to happen, for me to lose you. I love you so much, my Annie.”

“Don’t be so soft! I’m not going anywhere, not for a long time. And I’ll love you until the day I’m gone, and if I can love after, then I will then too. So shush,” Anwen replied, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Anyway, I’m not that breakable, I don’t think. Wanna test this theory?” 

Swinging her legs around Henry’s waist, Anwen straddled him and seductively removed her top. She was braless underneath. Henry whistled low, and licked his lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

          Henry and Anwen’s life continued in perfect bliss. Both had never been as happy as they were with each other. Anwen was now an established celebrity chef, having opened many more restaurants worldwide, written a few cookbooks and even been on television a couple of times. Henry’s career as an actor was skyrocketing, his role at Geralt in The Witcher making him a household name. This meant that he had to travel all around the globe for work, however this didn’t impact his and Anwen’s relationship in the slightest, as she regularly went with him, using the time to research new recipes for her business. When they had spare time, they enjoyed exotic holidays, and it was on the white powder sand of the Maldives that Henry proposed. Anwen had burst into tears and accepted immediately, and they’d spent the rest of that holiday on their private island mostly naked, enjoying each other as an engaged couple.           Their home life was refreshingly normal however. Behind closed doors, they were just Henry and Anwen, not the famous actor and the celebrity chef. They both took in turns to cook dinner, did the housework together and spent the evenings cwtched up on the sofa watching old movies. Laughter was a staple in their home, in fact they only ever rowed when England played Wales at rugby during the Six Nations. Life was indeed bliss, and it seemed nothing could burst this content bubble they were living in.

            One average day in late autumn, Anwen was sat at the kitchen table, with her laptop open in front of her and Ciri snoozing quietly at her feet. Dressed in a pair of comfy sweats and a loose off-the-shoulder jumper, her hair piled artfully messy on top of her head and holding a large cup of coffee in her hands, she was looking at wedding venues online, finally making a start on planning their special day. A huge binder was also open on the table with multiple sheets on paper sticking out of it. She’d made plenty of notes and had lots of ideas; it was now time to put them into action. Henry walked into the kitchen, looking very stylish in back jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He was holding Kal’s lead and the akita was tip-tapping on the tiles behind him, clearly very excited about going for a walk. Ciri didn’t even raise her head, happy enough to stay in with her mum and continue her nap. 

“I’m going to take Kal with me to the meeting with my manager,” he said to Anwen. “Then do you fancy meeting me after with Ciri and we’ll take them for a walk in the park?” 

“Yes, my love, sounds lush. How long will you be do you think?”

“Not sure, I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“What are you up to today?” Henry asked, walking over to Anwen and kissing her on the top of her head. “Wedding stuff?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna send off some emails now this morning and then go to this bakery and try out some wedding cake samples,” Anwen smiled.

“Well, I’m jealous! Have a great day honey, I’ll call you later. Love you!”

“Love you, bye!” she called as he walked out the front door.

          Henry’s meeting was going well. His manager had quite a few prospective roles lined up for him, and Henry was interested in the majority of them. His mind wandered to Anwen every so often; he still missed her when they were apart. As the meeting was coming to a close and Kal started getting excited again at going for another walk, Henry’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID- withheld number. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr Henry Cavill? I’m a nurse here at London hospital. We have you down here as Miss Anwen Evans’s emergency contact.”

Henry paled. “Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid Miss Evans has been involved in a serious accident. We have her here at the emergency department. Can you get here straight away?”

          Henry had never moved so quickly in his entire life. After giving his manager a hurried explanation and asking him whether he’d look after Kal, he’d gotten in his car and sped through the streets of London, not caring that he was breaking the speed limit. He parked illegally, jumping out of the vehicle and sprinting into the hospital. His mind was in overdrive, all sorts of scenarios going through his head. He felt sick with fear and exertion. Flying into the emergency room, he looked around wildly, finding a nurse sat at the front desk.

“Anwen Evans? I’m here for Anwen Evans, I’m Henry Cavill,” he cried desperately. The nurse didn’t hesitate.

“Come with me.”

She explained to Henry what had happened on the way. “Anwen was crossing the road at a zebra crossing when she tripped halfway, according to witnesses. There was a speeding car, who didn’t see her. He… he ran right over her. He didn’t stop. There are police looking for the car and driver as we speak.”

The flash of anger that Henry felt was so severe that his steps faltered for a second. But then he pushed it away, to be dealt with later. All that mattered now was Anwen. 

“Mr Cavill, Anwen is in a bad way. She has a serious brain injury, and multiple body fractures. The trauma team managed to get her stable, but it’s touch-and-go. The next twenty-four hours are critical,” the nurse said gently. “Prepare yourself before you go in.”

She opened the door to the dimly lit room. The sound of machines beeping dominated the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Henry moved closer to the bed, his mouth dry, hands shaking. His Annie was lying in the bed, connected to the machines, wires snaking out from every part of her it seemed. Her beautiful black hair was covered by thick white bandages wrapped around her head, and every part of her skin was purple and blue bruises. Her striking green eyes, usually so full of love and sparkle, were swollen shut. Henry had never seen anything so heartbreaking; tears coursed unbidden down his cheeks.

“Can I sit by her? Hold her hand?” he choked to the nurse. 

“Of course, pet.”

He pulled up a chair to her bedside and ever so gently took Anwen’s hand in his. It was reassuringly warm. He could do nothing for a moment but stroke it slowly. Worry filled every part of his being. 

“I’m here Annie. It’s your Henry. Come back to me, you can get through this,” he whispered, and then as sobs wracked through him, he added, “you said you’d love me until you’re gone and I’ll be damned if you’re going anywhere yet.” 

For the next few hours, Henry didn’t leave Anwen’s side; he didn’t let go of her hand. He held onto hope that she would get better. After all, porcelain could break yes, but it could also be fixed. And he would do anything to fix her. 

          As it approached eighteen hours since Anwen’s accident, a nurse came into the room and caught Henry fighting not to fall asleep. She softly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Mr Cavill, go and get some rest. You’re more than welcome to use the family room just next door. Freshen up, get an hour or so sleep. If anything changes, I promise I’ll come and notify you immediately.”

Henry considered this, torn between not wanting to leave Anwen’s side and the need to at least wash his face. 

“I’ll be half an hour, tops. Annie, I’ll be right back.” He put her hand down, and exited the room, rubbing his tired eyes as he went. 

He hadn’t been gone five minutes when a terrifying beeping screeched out from Anwen’s room. He ran out of the bathroom still with wet hands, his heart in his mouth. He halted in the doorway, petrified at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

A team of medics were working hard on her, the unrelenting beeping just adding to the frenzy of the situation. Anwen’s heart had stopped; someone fired up a defibrillator. The shock that went through her echoed in Henry. He just didn’t know what to do. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to lead him away but he just couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away, panic rising, threatening to overspill. His Annie, his Annie was there dying on that bed, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. And then suddenly, the most sinister sound yet. A flatline. Followed by a voice.

“We’ve lost her. Time of death, eight fifteen AM…”

Then silence.

The sound that tore its way up and out through Henry’s throat was that of a wounded animal. He screamed, the feeling pure agony.

“No! NO! There must be something you can do! My Annie! Annie…”

The doctor looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “I am so sorry, Henry. So sorry. Please, everyone, give him some space.”

The rest of his team followed him out; the nurse that had told Henry to go get some rest was crying silently. 

Henry stood rooted to the spot, in a state of absolute denial. Only a day before they’d been in their kitchen together, making plans to walk their beloved dogs, she was planning their wedding. Their wedding. Agony ripped through his chest, sobs wracked his body, his breathing erratic, his heart shattered, never to be healed again. Broken, like porcelain. 

          Henry didn’t know how he got through the funeral. He’d been to the funeral home, and dressed her in her favourite dress and shoes, and spent a long time brushing out her hair; he’d done that when she was alive, but the familiar act did nothing to ease his pain. When he got to the church, he walked down the aisle with her coffin on his shoulder, his heart heavy because he should have been watching her walk down the aisle in a white flowing dress towards him, he should be becoming her husband, not burying her. When it came to reading her eulogy, he was overcome with emotion, for the first time in his life not able to talk in public. His mother helped him down from the podium; his father continued the speech. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

At the wake, he got blind drunk. No one saw him for a week afterwards.

          The news of Anwen’s death was plastered all over the newspapers and online. Headlines such as “HENRY CAVILL FIANCE KILLED IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT” and “CELEBRITY CHEF ANWEN EVANS DEAD AT 27” accompanied photos of the both of them. The hole in Henry’s chest got bigger each time he saw it. He threw himself into his work; being someone else for at least 12 hours a day was easier than dealing with real life. Because the grief was all consuming, terrifying, never-ending. When he got home to his cold and empty penthouse, he couldn’t escape it; Kal and Ciri looked at him sadly every night, the question in their eyes: “where is our mummy?” Henry had no answers for them. He spent each evening sat in the dark, in silence. There was no laughter, no enjoyment in life since she’d gone. 

          A few weeks later, Simon came to visit. He’d been dropping in regularly, terribly worried about his friend. Henry looked, quite frankly, awful. His hair was long and the curls unkempt, he’d let his beard grow out and he had deep purple bags under his eyes. He’d lost a lot of weight too, although he hadn’t stopped working out. Simon sat down next to Henry on his sofa, nervously voicing the question he’d come round to ask.

“Henry, it’s the awards ceremony tonight. Will you be going?”

Henry looked at him like he’d gone mad. 

“Look,” Simon continued. “You’ve been nominated for Best Actor. It’s highly likely you’re going to win. Remember how she… how Anwen was really looking forward to going.” This was true. The red dress she’d been planning to wear was still hung up on the back of the bedroom door. “If you don’t want to go for yourself, why don’t you go for her?”

Henry thought it over. He hadn’t been out, apart from work and the gym, since before the accident. The thought of going to such a high-profile event caused panic. Yet… an image of Anwen, smiling before him in that red dress suddenly entered his mind. She had been so excited; she’d even helped him write his acceptance speech in case he did in fact win Best Actor. Go for her, Simon had said…

          And that’s how, just hours later, Henry found himself back on the red carpet, surrounded by flashing lights and crazed shouting as paparazzi tried to get his attention. He posed for a few photos before hurrying inside and taking his seat. He ate the extravagant three-course meal without really tasting it, drank the wine without really feeling it. Simon sat by his side, a welcome support; a truly great friend. Then, finally, it was time for the awards to be given. 

Henry clapped and cheered as each person won their nominated categories; showing his support for his fellow actors and actresses. Seeing them so happy actually lifted his spirits for the first time since… before. Then it was time for the winner of the Best Actor award.

“And the winner is… HENRY CAVILL!”

Henry sat in shock as the cameras and spotlights panned to him. Simon was on his feet, screaming “I knew he’d do it!” and then he was helping Henry up. “Go on mate, to the stage. You won, you bloody won!” 

In a daze, he walked towards the stage, then across it, accepting his award from the host. The applause was tumultuous; it took a few moments for it to die down, and then everyone in the audience was waiting expectantly for his speech. Henry drew a blank; he had no idea what to say.

“You can do it, handsome!” a heartbreakingly familiar voice whispered in his ear. He looked to the side and his breath hitched in his throat. Anwen was stood there, a wide grin all over her face, looking devastatingly beautiful in the red dress she’d planned to wear tonight. 

“I’m right here with you. I love you.”

Tears welled and spilled from Henry’s eyes as he turned back to face the audience. 

“This award,” he started. “is for my Anwen. My Annie. I couldn’t have been the actor who deserved it without her love and encouragement. She was my everything. She still is. I owe this, my entire career, my entire life to you, my angel. I miss you more than words can describe, and I love you even more.

As he left the stage to even louder applause and cheers and flashing lights, he looked up, seeing the love of his life again, smiling, tears sparkling on her cheeks, blowing him a kiss as she faded away.

“Goodbye my Annie,” he whispered. “Goodbye.”

[cafeinthemoon]

Headcanons for Founders trio with an s/o who's a bookworm 📚

I don’t know if this has been done before but I myself am a bookworm and when this idea came, it was funny to imagine how each of the founders would react to having a partner who’s passionate about books

Ps: I’m sorry that I’m not capable of writing a short list of headcanons okay I really try but I can’t sorry

Fandom: Naruto | Founders trio

Symbols: 💗 | ◼ | ▶▶

Hashirama

First of all, I don’t see him as a book lover, but neither he’s book hater. He’s just the average person who can live in peace with the fact that there are books in this world without being too attached or disgusted by them

This is bc he probably has some trauma from reading caused by the huge piles of paper he has to deal in his office (he tries to avoid them by procrastinating and then begs for his brother’s help)

But he has a genuine interest in your passion bc well, he loves you, which means he loves almost everything about you and believes that understanding this hobby is a way to understand you as a person

And bc of that he always goes with you when you say you want to go to the library or the bookstore

Hashirama is the guy who’s capable of getting excited with your enthusiasm though he’s not really into the same stuff as you

So he will have so much fun following you around those corridors and shelves full of books

And will analyze every book cover you show him aka agree with all of your reviews on the covers bc he trusts your capacity of analyzing things

He will also hear when you talk about your favorite plots, characters, writing styles and quotes

If you get indecisive between one book and other you certainly will he will try to help you make up your mind by telling you that “this one’s cover is prettier than the other’s” or “I think this one will have more exciting adventures”

He will be content whether you choose this book or the other, and will laugh if you decide to get them both

Plus: Hashirama is good at spoiling his s/o so he will insist on buying any book you lay your eyes on to the point you’ll have to argue for him to let you pay for your own books

And when it’s time to go home, he will help you with the piles of books you borrowed from the library or bought from your favorite bookstore (with a significative % of discount ofc)

So we can agree that despite not having a great love for books, Hashirama will be the most fun company for a bookworm like you 💕

But this doesn’t extend to the occasions when you recommend something for him to read

He always promises he will read that book soon but you know he’s going to forget that the book exists right after you leave it with him and will only remember it when you ask it back 😐

Tobirama

Now, with this guy things are way different

Bc if you think of yourself as a bookworm, Tobirama says GET READY TO KNOW WHAT REALLY MEANS TO BE A BOOKWORM

Seriously, he has been reading since he can remember. It’s a part of him as much as the shinobi life

He reads absolutely anything. Politics? Yes. History? Ofc. Poetry? Same. Cookbook? He had already gave it a try. And do not let him start with Science 🔍

And he has a prodigious memory for what he reads, so he’s capable of spotting any book he has in his personal library with his eyes closed, so that even if you remember only one quote from the book, he will find it for you

The best part of this is that you can talk about anything about any book bc Tobirama probably has read it and will understand your point, and if he hadn’t read it yet, it’s just a question of time until he adds it to his collection

Or he will make comparisons between this book and others that are similar to it that he already has and that’s what he does to understand the whole point

The connection that comes from this is something unique. Your love for him grows as much as your love for the books you read

But everything has its dark side, and in this case it’s called COMPETITION

I’m sorry to give you such sad news, but Tobirama is that person who can turn the most innocent hobby into a competition if he feels threatened thinks you’re becoming more experienced than him in it. So expect to see him become a bit petty

He will not start a proper fight but you will sense that he’s getting into discussions about trivial details more often. He doesn’t need an invitation: if you say something that he mildly disagrees, he will discuss it until he convinces you of his pov (or you say you give up)

If you’re really into discussions and such, you might enjoy it like a sport. However, if you don’t like conflicts, I feel sorry for you lmao

If it extends for too long, it will become a reason for a serious fight, because he will get to the point of saying that “you need to refine your taste for books a little” or that “you should slow your pace in order to pay more attention to what you’re reading and have a better understanding of the book’s subject”

If things get to this point the only person who will be able to help you to make amends is Hashirama. But I hope it never happens

Now, the biggest advantage of being Tobirama’s s/o and loving books is that you almost never need to buy books, bc he’s the owner of the greatest library in the village (he has all the books you won’t find in the public library)

Ofc you manage to buy some, but you don’t use to do book hauls because you don’t wanna end up broken he always gets the books you want

That doesn’t mean you two don’t spend time out on bookstores and get back home late sometimes ❤

Madara

Can’t believe I couldn’t find that gif of him reading a book with his Sharingan

I don’t know but Madara and books in the same sentence sounds peculiar to me lol

I think his attitude towards books is similar to Hashirama’s in some points, except that he promptly recognizes the importance of books as knowledge and intelectual development’s tools. But in general terms he’s not the most passionate person about them

The thing is that he prefers activities outside the house, that push him to the limits of his body. You know, with this man it is about the PHYSICAL

So things like staying indoors, enjoying a good book doesn’t have appeal to him. You might love it, but to him it sounds a bit tedious

But he respects and admires this preference of yours. It’s good to see his s/o engaging in a healthy and safe activity

Sometimes, when he gets home, he might ask casually what you are reading this time, but this is not to be understood as an invitation to a long talk. He just came home, he’s tired and the last thing he wants is to hear about things in which he’s not quite interested, so it’s better just to say the book’s title or the genre

If he’s in a good mood, he will sit by your side and watch you while you read. Getting close to you and observe what you’re doing is a habit of him no matter what task you’re performing, but seeing you immersed in something you’re passionate about is different

He likes to pay attention to the way your eyes go through the lines, your lips move to repeat the characters’ sentences, your expression changing to follow your emotions and the delicate manners with which your fingers touch the pages

If you stop reading to look at him, he won’t even try to disguise 😁

And if you ask him what is it, he will just smug and continue to stare at you

Observing you is like a hobby to him, it’s his way to get in touch with you

Now, talking about your readings is something complicated when you have a partner like Madara

I believe the best way to talk about books with him is doing it indirectly. For example, instead of saying things like “I’ve read it in a book that if you…”, just say “Maybe it’s just the case that they will…”. Just bring out the idea itself and leave the source aside

He knows that you probably found it in one of your books, but he will not be bothered. Instead, he will praise the fact that your readings turn you into a smart and observing person, with a deep understanding of the world and its people

As you can imagine, going with you to buy books is to him what going with a s/o to buy shoes is to other men. Yes, he is that guy that tries to make you walk in another direction so that you won’t pass in front of a bookstore or the village’s library bc he knows that once you step into these places, you won’t leave so soon

Bc of this you use to go alone to do your book hauls or to ask your friends to go with you. Sometimes you wish you could make Madara change his mind, for you love his company, but you’re ok knowing that it’s not going to happen and try to concentrate on being in good terms with him ❤

[chibinekochan]

Angel in hell  - part 2

Obey me! Angel Reader Au. 

Gen. reader insert. 

part 1 |

2k words

An angel in the Devildom? Well, this is nothing new. 

Together with exchange student veterans Simeon and Luke you get chosen to be an exchange student in the Devildom.

Due to an accident, you end up sharing the dorm with 7 demon brothers. 

The local demons are all acting very strange around you.  

Is this because you are an angel or is there a hidden reason?

______________________________

  "Mammon you will show them the room." Lucifer moved over to Diavolo. 

Mammon looks very surprised. "Wait why me? Come on don't do this to me!" He sounds very upset. 

"Don't waste my time and just do it." Lucifer just brushes Mammon off. 

"Let Satan do it, it was his fault after all." Mammon isn't done complaining. 

"Hey, why do you drag me into this?" Satan glares at Mammon. 

You watch the scene and feel pretty uncomfortable. The demons must hate angels. "It's alright just give me a map or something. I don't want to inconvenience any of you." You don't want them to hate you. 

"No, it's alright. I will lead you to your room." Satan looks a bit guilty. 

"Well, that's settled then." Lucifer just seems glad that the discussion is over. 

You feel a bit better after hearing this.

  "Alright, then we should grab some of the luggage and then go to our rooms, and don't forget to give me your new numbers later." Simeon reminds you and Luke. You had almost forgotten about the new phone that you received.

You follow after Simeon, with Satan and Mammon in toe. They walk a bit behind you like they keep a distance from you on purpose. 

You grab your most essential luggage, knowing that the rest will be delivered later.

You start to pull your suitcase when Mammon steps in front of you. 

"I can take that for you… If it's too heavy for you…" Mammon tries to be nice. 

You appreciate the effort. " Thank you... Umm Mammon was your name right?" You give him a polite smile. 

"Y-yeah that's right." Mammon stutters for a moment and is unable to look at your face. For a moment it seemed like he is in pain. 

"We should go. I have dinner duty tonight. So we should hurry up." Satan seems to bring Mammon out of his daze. 

You wonder what that was about. Maybe he was insulted that you weren't sure about his name? 

"You take turns with dinners, right? Simeon told me about that. I can cook too so it won't be an issue for me. I might need some demon recipes though." You try to lighten the mood a little bit, at least. 

"I have some cookbooks you can borrow some and I can help you… I

I mean if you want to." Satan offers with such kindness, you wonder why he seemed so defensive earlier. 

"That would be very nice of you." You smile at him. You truly feel grateful to be included like this. Maybe they are not bad after all? 

"Don't worry about it. I mean it's not like we…" Satan stops himself, a shadow crosses his face. "I mean we aren't as bad as you might think." Satan glosses over this.

  You wonder what he tried to tell you. 

"Yeah, I'm sure we will get along just fine. Not just us both, I want to become friends with you all, if possible." You say this mainly to encourage yourself. 

You can see Mammon almost jump in the corner of your eye. He doesn't add anything to the conversation. 

"Here we are, this is… your room." Mammon stops in front of the door. His voice is unusually quiet.

He has a sad expression while his hand stops just over the door knop. Then he takes a breath and opens the door.

  Inside you can see Beelzebub. With a stack of boxes. 

You are confused but don't say anything.

  "What are you doing?" Satan seems to be just as confused as you are. 

"I just wanted to move….you know their belongings out of the room…" Beel seems to fight with something. 

"Come on, we talked about this. This isn't supposed to be a museum." Mammon sounds frustrated. 

"I know… I, I just can't bear the thought that even this will get destroyed… we only have this much left." Beel looks towards the boxes. The atmosphere gets heavy again. 

Your eyes wander between the boys. They all seem to be in so much pain. 

"I don't know what is going on but... If I shouldn't be here then I won't stay. I won't tell Lucifer." You feel bad for them. Seeing them like this breaks your heart. 

"No, don't do that! I mean I will just put these in storage." Beel shoots the idea down with almost harshly sounding words. 

"Yeah don't feel bad. It's not your fault." Satan looks at you, with a kind expression. 

"Yeah, it's your fault…" Beel glares at Satan for a moment. "I will go and bring these away now." Beel grabs the whole stack of boxes and carries them like they are nothing.

  It's pretty impressive to you. 

Satan's expression has clouded over. "I'm sorry… It's just very hard on him." 

"It's alright. I won't pry but I guess this room. It is somehow very important to you all. I promise to take good care of it." You honestly don't want them to feel any worse than they already do. 

"I know you will." Satan smiles gently. For a moment it seems like he is about to pat your head but drops his hand. 

“Well duh...I mean you are an angel and all ummmmm...I think we should go now and let you unpack…” Mammon seems to be uneasy.

“Thank you both for showing me the room.” You gracefully bow to them.

“No problem. Oh, and if you need anything you can call me anytime.” Satan smiles lightly.

“Same here...I mean as long as it's not like 3 am or something...unless you are in trouble. Just call me, okay?” Mammon seems unsure of how to word things the right way. 

"Sure, I will call you if I need help. If you need anything you can call me too." You want to be kind to Mammon too. It only seems right. 

"If you offer him that, he will never stop calling you." Satan chuckles lightly. 

"Hey, don't act like I'm unreliable! You know I'm not right?!" Mammon seems offended and looks at you like he expects you to agree. You look confused to Mammon. 

"Ah right, you don't know that…" Mammon sighs. Satan pats him on his shoulder. 

"We will go now and let you unpack. Just call if you need someone to lead you to the dining." Satan kindly offers you and you nod. 

"Thank you both." You give them both a kind smile and they seem a bit uneasy.

  Then they leave your room and you start unpacking. 

Demons sure are strange.

  You are done unpacking and feel rather hungry. You decide to find the kitchen by yourself. 

You wander around for a while but don't have any luck. 

Then you realize that you don't even know where you are. 

You need a map.

  Lost as you are, you find yourself in front of a dorm room. So you hope, pray and knock. 

"Password." You can hear the muffled voice of Levi inside. 

"Sorry, I don't know the password. I just need some help." You hope that he will just help you. 

"You should know the password… Oh-Oh, wait no YOU don't know it… This is such a bad idea." Inside his room, Levi seems to argue with himself. 

You hear the door open and Levi standing behind the door. He doesn't even look at you. 

"Thank you for opening the door. I fear that I got lost." You feel very sorry for bothering Levi. 

"How could you get lost? Oh, wait… Well, where do you need to go?"  Levi seems to be rather unwilling to help you.

"I need to find my room and the kitchen…" You admit a bit shyly. 

"Hold on, I will just draw you a map." Levi leaves you standing. He seems pretty cold towards you. 

You can take a peek into his room, it's filled to the brim with strange stuff. You have seen similar things somewhere before. 

Your eyes then find a big map on the wall."Oh, that's the world map from tsl." You are pleasantly surprised to see it.

  Levi turns to you, and suddenly his face lights up. "Do you still remember tsl? It's hard to forget. I mean I still watch it all the time. I have some new super limited Henry merch." Levi seems suddenly very excited. 

"Tsl is very popular in heaven. So Henry is your favorite character?" You think it's a good thing that you have found some common ground. 

"Yeah of course! I mean that will never change. Do you still remember Henry in that one scene between him and the 2nd lord, that was so amazing? I still get cold chills just by thinking about it." Levi seems to vividly remember the whole thing. 

"Sorry, I have only read the books so far I'm sure it's very amazing." You almost feel bad telling Levi that. 

"We already… I-I mean we-we could watch it again. I mean for the first time ever. Ahhh I'm so bad at this just ignore all of this." Levi seems flustered all of a sudden. 

You don't understand why he behaves like this. "I would like to watch the tsl anime with you." You feel like it will be a very interesting experience. 

"You would? Oh wow… You-You are still… I-I m-mean you are so nice… don't mind me I talk nonsense all the time." Levi almost seems to sweat. 

Maybe he just has issues talking to people or angels? You don't mind either way.

  "I look forward to it." You give him a polite smile. 

Levi let's out some incoherent silebels. 

He then takes a deep breath. “Same here...umm here's the map...I would go with you but that it just wouldn't fit in my schedule? Yeah, that sounds about right...I mean I'm a very busy demon.” Levi's eyes shift like crazy around the room.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me.” You are grateful regardless of Levi's strange behavior.   

Levi laughs a bit awkwardly and you leave his room.

  With the map in hand, you make your way into the kitchen.

You hear some strange noises from inside of the kitchen. It sounds like someone making a huge ruckus.

Carefully you peek into the room.

  You see Beel ransacking the fridge. It looks like a disaster zone. 

You wonder if you should just leave. He looks rather busy after all.

Then your stomach starts to rumble. Talk about bad timing.

  Beel turns to you. If you expect him to be mad or something, you are proven wrong.

He looks way kinder than before.

  “Oh hey there. I'm sorry about earlier...I was pretty mean, right? Here umm a cookie...I haven't eaten it yet so Ummm you can have it.” Beel seems to be very sorry and he holds the cookie out for you. 

You think it's a sweet gesture, take it. 

"It's alright. We all have bad days. I will not hold it against you." You don't know why Beel was so upset. He seems completely different now. 

"You are very nice." Beel gives you a genuine smile, it makes you smile back at him. 

Then your stomach rumbles again. 

"You should eat that before you faint. Wait, that's something that only happens to me. Well, regardless you should eat." Beel seems concerned. 

You do just that. "It tastes really good." You are a bit surprised. This is the first demon food that you ever had. 

"Yeah I know how...they are very tasty." It seems like Beel wanted to say something else but then corrects himself.

You nod a bit confused and finish the cookie. "Do you need some help cleaning this up?" You don't know what caused this mess, even when it seems likely that it was Beel. 

"Thanks for the offer but I

I should clean this myself. It's my mess after all." Beel declines but his voice are softer than before. 

"I will gladly help you Beel and together it will go faster anyway." You insist on it.

  Beel nods, a little bit troubled, and then lets you help him clean up. He does most of the work though.

    Then you head back to your room for a while.

   Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

 It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him.  She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

[lesbian-deadpool]

“Soulmates”

Part One Of Three: Everything Hurts

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,339

Warnings: Unrequited love, relationship difficulties, cannon storyline (its a warning try me lol), I think that’s it.

Request: For the anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires, who wanted angst. Well, you got it, buddy.

Summary: You were her soulmate. But she wasn’t yours.

A/N: Thanks to @missmonsters2 for helping me out with this idea. Parts of this fic are inspired by ‘Peach Scone by Hobo Johnson and The LoveMakers’ I so hope this was angsty enough.

(Not my GIF)

***

You were being pushed through the door, of your shared apartment, by two hands on your back. The woman they belonged to giggling cutely. Not a care in the world. And only slightly intoxicated.

The door had only just closed behind you when the red-head had helped you spin around to face her. Your lips colliding fiercely, as soon as your eyes met.

Natasha was tugging at your clothes, as were you with hers, frantically trying to find the zipper to her tight dress.

You guys had just gotten back from one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties and were near enough running on pure bliss. It was the last one you would be attending for a while. As it was yours and Natasha’s leaving party and wouldn't be in the tower enough to attend every party. You enjoyed yourselves, no matter how bittersweet it was. You were sad that you were retiring from the superhero life, but were over joked to be starting this new chapter with your fiancé.

And you knew the perfect way to finish off the celebration.

“Leaving with a bang” as they say.

“Natasha?” You asked, shaking the Black Widow gently, I mean, you weren’t entirely insane, “Natasha?”

With a mumble she awoke, blinking groggily at your face, using her arms to lift her up off her stomach slightly, from where she had fallen asleep on the common room’s sofa.

“You were whimpering,” you told her, with a worried look on her face, “Are you okay?”

“Umm...”

How was she supposed to tell you she was having a sex dream about you, where you had the life she wished you had together?

“Yeah, it was just a nightmare.”

That’s right! She wasn’t.

“I’m fine now,” she said standing up, “Thanks for waking me.”

“Anytime.” You smiled, cocking your head to the side. And Natasha swore she didn't know she could fall for you any harder.

“Well, see you around, Y/N,” Natasha uttered, beginning to make her way to her bedroom.

“Oh, yeah, shoot! I gotta meet Penny for our date. Bye, Nat!”

Ah, Penny. The woman Natasha hated for no other reason than the fact that she was with you. You. Perfect, wonderful, you.

The love of Natasha’s life.

Now, Natasha wasn’t one to believe in the childish theory of soulmates.

But if she were to think about the term ‘soulmates’, and picked it apart to its very core, converting it into a science. Now science. Natasha believed science. And she would be left with no other reason than to believe with everything she had, that you two were meant to be.

That you were “soulmates”.

Or as close as you could get.

But, sadly. Life never worked out in Natasha’s favour.

As you believed that Penny was the closest thing you could get to a soulmate. As did your brunette girlfriend. And the rest of the fucking world!

The team and high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents commenting on how perfect you two were together when she came over to visit. How you two were “meant to be”.

Natasha could hardly bare it. Sadness filling her up to her brim every time she saw you together, you, or if somebody else mentioned her, anything that involved you two together.

She hated it. With a tearful passion. It made knots appear in her stomach, and twist so unnaturally, that she thought she could be ripped in half by the wrenching pain. Absolutely nauseous, as she had to fight off tears tooth and nail.

But no matter how heartbroken Natasha was, that you had found, the seemingly, perfect person, that sadly wasn't her. She was happy for you. Beyond so. All she wanted was for you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with her like she wished.

She loved you. And you were happy. And at the heart of it all, that’s all that truly mattered.

“Bye!” she could only call out softly, as you disappeared in the elevator. Wanting, more than anything, to be able to ask you ‘not to go’, to ‘stay with her, please’, to ‘realise how much she is in love with you’, and beg for you to ‘give her a chance’. But she didn’t. And she never would. For as long as you were with your ‘one and only’. Natasha wasn’t even sure you had heard her say her goodbye.

With a frown, the Assassin sullenly walked away, towards her bedroom, where her sheets, crappy daytime TV reruns, and her many thoughts of you, to keep her company until she inedibility fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Natasha smiled as soon as she saw you sitting in the common room, her smile dropping when she noticed how you sad you looked, “Y/N?”

You gave an unceremonious groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. Natasha quickly coming to sit by your side.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, hand coming to caress at the back of your neck comfortingly, whilst the other rested just above your knee.

“Penny and I had a fight.”

You felt Natasha’s grip tense but thought nothing of it.

“What happened?” Natasha asked, voice slightly harder than it was before.

You sighed.

“She said I spent too much time here. Working. Whatever.”

“Well, you are an Avenger. You kind of need to be here a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You nodded. “But... it just felt like she was giving me an ultimatum, y’know?”

Natasha thought about your situation for a short while, her hand that was previously on your neck, now rubbing up and down your back.

How could she do this to you?

You were trying to save the world, fighting so that she, and everyone else, could live without fear. Day in, day out, this is what you did. You managed to balance the hero life and your life with her, better than anyone she had ever seen.

And yet, that still wasn't enough.

Natasha wanted to say all those things. Every single one of them.

But she knew it would only make things worse.

So much worse.

So instead she said the things that you wanted her to say. That she would want if she was in your situation. The things she could tell were true.

“I’m sure she’ll come around, you just gotta give her time to think it through.”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, thinking about Natasha’s words deeply, “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Nat.”

“It’s no problem.”

It was a problem. It was a big heart-wrenching problem. But she vowed to never tell you that.

***

A coo from Wanda made Natasha look over her shoulder, to where the brunette witch was leaning over the kitchen island. Following her gaze, she saw what Wanda was looking as. It was you. And Penny. On the couch, huddled together doing a crossword together, as your hand brushed through her hair.

A look of disdain broke through Natasha’s conceded barrier. Hurt shining in her eyes, but still unable to remove them from your forms.

Unknown to the red-head, she had moved to stand beside Wanda.

“Natasha?” Wanda called out to her, regaining her attention.

“Huh?”

Natasha schooled her features and turned to the younger woman.

“Sorry, what did you say, Wanda?”

Giggling, she repeated herself, “I said: Don’t you think they belong together, Nat?”

She took another long look at you two. Seeing how happy you looked together.

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding sadly. Feeling like her heart was about to tear in half, and be ripped right out through her chest at the same time, “They’re happy.”

“Are you okay, Nat?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” Natasha said, she could tell that Wanda doubted her. Damn you, and your ability to make her well-tuned skill break, without actually doing anything. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You just seem... sad?” The young brunet cocked her head to the side, obviously worried about Natasha. But not quite there to knowing why Natasha seemed off, somehow.

“I’m fine, Wanda. Just a little tired.”

“Oh. Well, maybe I could make you some tea tonight, to help you sleep?”

“That would be nice.” Natasha smiled. “Thank you, Wan.”

Natasha was still in the kitchen.

Wanda had left to go chat with Clint about something.

So while she was minding her own business, flicking through a random cookbook that was left upon the counter, from when Wanda had used it the day before. Sipping the coffee from her steaming cup.

When a voice drew her attention towards them.

“Hi.”

Penny.

The brunette was pleasant enough, a bright smile tugging on her face.

Natasha faced her fully, glancing over to where you now sat chatting with Tony. The ex-playboy talking animatedly, probably something he was currently working on. Your face split into a grin, excited to hear what he was making, throwing you ideas at him, which made the both of giddy like school children.

A smile tugged at the corner of Natasha’s lips at the sight, then she remembered the woman standing in front of her.

“Hi, Penny,” she greeted, “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just thought that I’d come and hi.” Penny shrugged. “We haven’t really talked that much. And I know how much you mean to Y/N, and how much she would love it if we got to know each other a bit better.”

Oh, what fresh hell is this? Natasha thought.

“This is technically the first time we’ve properly spoken,” she continued, her nervousness showing through at Natasha’s silence.

Yeah, there’s a reason for that. Just can’t tell you.

Now, Natasha wasn't entirely cruel. But she had to admit that she wanted to see the girl squirm, only because of her disdain for you and her being together.

But wanting and doing, were very different things entirely.

“Oh, yeah. Y/N has told me so much about you,” Natasha said, making Penny smile. And Natasha remembered that she had no right to hate her as much as she did, “All of the things you do for her. How much you love her,” she listed off. “It’s so great. Y/N deserves it. You should keep doing those things.”

“I don’t ever plan on stopping,” Penny told her honestly, that bright smile still on her face.

Natasha pulled a tight-lipped smile, one that conveyed sadness. But lucky for her, Penny couldn’t read her the way her friends could, or at all, really.

“Yeah, they’re so great. Y/N was one of the first people to care for me when no one else did. I don’t think I ever felt love until I met her.” At this moment Natasha hated herself, because of the word vomit pouring out of her mouth.

Penny cooed softly. “Well, that’s my, Y/N.” Poor, clueless Penny.

Natasha hated her calling you, ‘her Y/N’. She had glanced down when Penny said that, hiding the tears that started to burn behind her eyes.

God. She couldn’t handle this much longer.

“She’s so lucky to have friends like you.”

‘Friends’.

“I’m lucky to have them.”

And she was.

Natasha felt so fucking lucky, that she was graced with a person like you. With all the things she had ever done. With all the pain she caused. The hell she has made. You. For some strange, unknown reason, chose to look at her with your bright eyes, looking past all that. Making Natasha feel like the only person in the world, you would ever look at like that.

Then you met Penny.

And now she truly knew what you looked like when you saw someone as your one and only. Because she would watch you look at Penny that way.

That’s when she realised you would never look at her that way. And she was stupid enough to believe you had seen her that way before.

So, Natasha was left alone, with the thoughts of you, and being with you. Like she always had.

“I don’ want her to get hurt, y’know?” Natasha said, but before Penny could reply, she continued, wanting nothing more than to get out of there, and that situation, which hurt her more than she liked to admit, “Good for you guys, though. For finding each other. I’m so happy for you.”

She’s lying through her fucking teeth right now. But at the same time, she meant every word she spoke.

Because, who was Natasha to get in between two people, who believed they had found the love of their life.

“Well.” Natasha pointed over her shoulder, with her thumb, in the direction of the room's exit. “I’ve got things I need to do. So... see you around, Penny.”

“Oh,” Penny said surprised at Natasha’s sudden leave, calling to the red-head as she walked away, “Okay, bye Natasha! It was nice talking to you!”

“You too, Penny.”

***

“Natasha?”

“Y/N?” Natasha spun around, her voice breathless, praying beyond everything that it wasn’t happening to you too. If the world were to do anything for her, just once, grant her one wish. She hoped it would be this one.

But life was never that fair, was it?

You looked away from your slowly vanishing hands and into Natasha’s eyes, they were quickly filling with tears. Taking a step towards her, you almost stumbled, and the red-head rushed to you.

Natasha held you in her arms, slowly lowering you to the ground, letting you rest partly in her lap. She rocked back and forth, as tears splashed across your face.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t cry,” you said, feeling the energy rapidly leaving your body. You knew this was the end. Yet all you could care about was Natasha crying above you. Because of you. And what was happening to you.

“Please,” she begged softly, watching your eyes slowly close, “Please don't leave me.”

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, as your body quickly turned to ash.

“I’m in love with you.”

Was the last thing she ever got to say to you, in a heartbroken whisper. And that was the last thing you heard.

Then you were gone.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.22

What Happens After 2 AM... Doesn’t Hate To Be a Disaster

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)  x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4420

Summary: Celebrations are in order! And when it comes to the Avengers, it’s always ‘the more the merrier’.

Warnings: swearing, brief angst, nightmares, guilt trips, attempt at humour, fluff

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Tony took off, too eager to try and get in touch with his friend via intergalactical channel. You almost felt sorry for not witnessing it, but as the biggest excitement tuned down, everyone once more invested in their own business, you and Steve were the only ones left in the kitchen – and were approached by Natasha.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say the spy even looked shy in her supposedly casual stance.

“Hey, uhm… you guys mind if I ask someone to tag along?” she threw to the open as if it wasn’t a big deal. Her plan didn’t work, because you nearly fell off of the stool with how quickly you spun to her fully.

One corner of her lips twitched at your clumsiness, but then she casted her gaze down, only making your eyebrow rise.

“Oh?”

“It’s just… a friend.”

Riiight. She was so full of shit. A teasing smile slowly spread on your face and you exchanged a meaningful wordless conversation with Steve who had insisted on him cleaning up.

“A friend, you say?” you pried, unable to hide the suggestive tone – and not even trying. She shrugged it off, clearly downplaying it once again.

“For now. A little flirting here and there maybe…”

She fooled no one, but you were in too much of a light mood to torture her and actually call her out on the fact that unless she was thinking about getting serious, she wouldn’t have wanted to introduce the mystery person to the team.

“Good for you, Natasha,” you noted instead and you might have imagined it only, but her ‘casual stance’ eased for real. “As for me, I’m all for it. I might be glad to take some attention off me.”

“And vice versa,” she pointed out and it dawned to you just how sneaky her planning was. It shouldn’t surprise you – she was a spy after all and one brilliant woman to begin with.

“Smart. I’d love to meet them.”

“I’m sure he will be too. Thanks. Uhm… Steve?” she hummed in his direction, just to make sure he was alright with it too.

The man in question raised his hands as if he wanted to say it was not his decision to make – and sent a spray of tiny drops of water your general direction with that movement. You snorted at that unattractively.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s her party, so it’s her call,” he stated with a grin and dried his hands.

“Then I say yes, of course he can come, Nat-- I meant-“ not Nat. You wanted to bit your cheek at the silly slip, probably caused by hearing the name so often, but the redhead smirked.

“Nat’s fine. I’m still honoured, by the way. Naming yourself after me...”

“Would have done it again in a heartbeat,” you reassured her with a matching smirk, relieved. She winked at you and at Steve, spinning on her heels and walking away. It was the spur of the moment what you blurted out before she could leave. “And Nat? He’s a really lucky guy. I hope he knows that.”

“Thanks,” she threw over her shoulder almost carelessly, but once again, you knew better. Natasha Romanoff felt like any other human being, only she didn’t show it as often as you for instance.

You glanced at Steve as he circled the bar and you exchanged a brief smile with him. You simply couldn’t stop smiling today. You couldn’t say you minded.

Steve’s fingers found your face and hair, caressing softly and his lips brushed yours. It seemed he couldn’t stop touching you today. Once again, you couldn’t say you minded.

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You were purposely postponing the inevitable question of what was coming next; and Steve didn’t push you. It was as if the two of you had made a deal about working out worries and obstacles later, except you hadn’t.

Chances were that Steve was avoiding the topic, because there was so much to go over and you couldn’t quite blame him. Should you go public with your resurrection? Or was it safer and overall better to keep you hidden? Perhaps you should tell at least your family and friends? What about you having a job – you couldn’t exactly sit around all days long doing nothing. The paperwork if you officially came back. The scandal. Were you even allowed to tell anyone about such thing as coming back from the dead?

Oh yeah, you were very much happy that Steve was ignoring the obvious problems in making as expertly as you were.

So, you idled. You cuddled, you watched movies, stole kisses, you spied on him while he trained with his teammates (after you spent about twenty minutes on a treadmill and decided you had to either focus on running or on ogling Steve, choosing the latter, obviously) and momentarily was searching for recipe for the best cookies, because why the hell not bake when having the time on your hands.

Relaxing for the whole day, you did not expect the sudden burst of thunderclap and lightning that followed. You jumped in your seat nearly falling off of the bar stool for the second time that day and shot Steve, who was sitting on a couch with an actual cookbook, a puzzled look.

He sighed when Tony passed the room, a grin plastered on his face.

Right. Calling Thor. God of thunder. Apparently, it worked.

“Brother Anthony. Where is the fight?” the thunderous voice demanded from the hall, your chest vibrating with the decibels of it.

“There’s no fight,” Tony responded light-heartedly. “Party is in order.”

“A party?”

“Yep,” Tony hummed, clearly amused by the shock he had caused his friend.

“You’re… you’re doing well then?” the god lowered his voice a fraction, but still was loud enough for you to hear him clearly despite the pair not being in the room with you. “How is the Captain? I requested of Heimdall to watch over him, but Loki orchestrated an escape from his prison, so I was too preoccupied to visit sooner.”

Oh. Oh. Even Thor knew just how harsh life had been to Steve lately. Also, you forgot how strangely he spoke – orchestrated, who did ever say the word orchestrated in a casual converstion?

You spared a glance at the Steve, not surprised he didn’t meet your gaze, truly engrossed in the book all of sudden. His skin paled a little, besides his ears that turned an uncomfortable shade of red as if they were on fire.

You bit your lip and decided to say nothing. What was there to say, really? He had been mourning; you wouldn’t exactly expect to find out he had been playing the welcome committee during Thor’s last visit, whenever that had been.

“See for yourself, Point Break.”

You rolled your eyes at Tony’s dramatics, and watched the God of Thunder himself, the walking rock he was, basically tiptoe into the room, eyes instantly focused on Steve. You remained graciously unnoticed. It was almost as endearing as hilarious.

Steve lowered his book (laying it down without bothering to mark the page he had been ‘reading’, while avoiding your gaze really) and stood up, offering a short hug to the God, who was adorably perplexed at such behaviour.

“Hello, Thor. It’s good to see you,” Steve welcomed him warmly, lightly patting his friend on his back. Tony watched amusedly as the men retreated, one of them utterly confused, shooting him a not-so-subtle puzzled look.

“Brother Steven, you-- look well! I am pleased to see that you are feeling better…”

“Use that famous beyond-eyes eyes of yours, Thor,” Tony snorted in laughter, gesturing vaguely around his own face. “I imagine you’ll be surprised at what you’ll see.”

To your surprise, Thor actually examined Steve with an absent gaze, blinking after few seconds, understanding mixing with confusion on his face now.

“Oh… you are… bonded,” he let out in disbelief, quickly switching to warmer voice. And nope, he still hadn’t noticed you. The corner of your lips twitched. “I am happy for you, brother. I could sense your sorrow for your soulmate during my last visit here without taking as much as a glance at you. You deserve another soulmate, one that can make your heart equally happy. I hope you do not feel unfaithful for you love again – I believe you still carry your love for your past partner in your heart and her soul knows that even in afterlife.”

Steve smiled at him, sad tones in the otherwise wide smile. “More than you know, Thor. But thank you. Would you like to meet her? She’s why we are celebrating and why we invited you to join us.”

“Of course. I’d be honoured to meet your lady-“

“You can,” you made your presence known at last, causing the God to snap his head to you at instant. You offered a grin and a tiny wave. “Hey, Thor. Long time, no see.”

The poor Asgardian stared at you incredulously, his eyes wider than Steve’s and Tony’s smiles. Then he shook his head, joining all of you in the lifted spirits.

“…now I understand why Heimdall had that secretive smile on his face when I was leaving… my lady! I am delighted to see you alive!”

He crossed the room in swift strides, nearly making you back out with how fierce he looked at the moment. But he wouldn’t punch you, right?

Nope, he wouldn’t.

Instead, he pulled you into his strong arms, lifting you a foot above the ground, squeezing you in a bone-crushing hug that brushed your tender ribs. You were so surprised you didn’t even hiss in pain. He released you as quickly as he embraced you, greeting you with his typical kiss on the back of your hand. Was there a hint of red in his cheeks as if he was embarrassed at the open display of friendly affection that preceded his gentleman’s manners?

You shook off the thought quickly, dropping a little curtsy to entertain your company. You met Steve’s eyes behind Thor’s enormous shoulder and he squinted at you playfully as if he was warning you to stop what could be considered flirtation. You winked at him, earning a gape from him and a chuckle from Tony.

“But… how?” Thor’s voice brought your attention back to him and you saw nothing but wonder on his face. “I can see your spirit, it is still glowing magnificently, clear of dark forces that could have tried to bring you back to life despite the natural order. This must have happened differently… how?”

“It’s a long story, Thor. Can you stay?” you asked hopefully, pleased by the warmth in his eyes when he nodded.

“To celebrate your return, the reunion of soulmates with one of the strongest bonds I have ever had the chance to witness? ...with pleasure, my lady.”

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Asking Thor to join was a good plan. The Avengers had introduced some of the board games they knew to him, highly amused by his frustration during monopoly; to be fair, everyone but Tony was frustrated, so no one was mad when the game ended; with the billionaire’s victory, naturally. But it wasn’t just that; he also got Steve tipsy thanks to some special liquor that was meant for ‘no mere mortals’ and Steve with his cheeks red and a smile more relaxed than you had ever witnessed was a sight to behold.

Also, Thor wasn’t the only special guest. Sam had joined you; Natasha’s special friend. It was very much clear he was special and not only because of their body language. He proved to be worthy of being her man by surviving the grilling he was put through; you didn’t blame Natasha that she had chosen this occasion of all to introduce him, because naturally, there were enough distractions… like you coming back from dead… and such.

You came to like Sam immediately. He was another person to join your verbal combat with Clint and Tony, he was funny, but somehow knowing the limits of everyone despite barely meeting them and he was another person who was giving away the friendly vibe that was impossible not to love. He was an amazing match to Natasha, who was used to hiding her feelings, making her crawl from her tough shell. Match made in Heaven. He was a therapist, a former soldier and apparently their encounter was a story they wouldn’t share until they were completely trashed. You couldn’t wait.

The family-feels-filled party was officially ending at two a.m. You were dead on your feet by then, which resulted in Steve nearly carrying you to your common suite, earning a streak of ‘awww’ that registered even in your sleepy brain. You had no care in the world, curling in Steve’s embrace on the bed and falling asleep as soon as you felt his arms relax around you.

You didn’t quite count on the retelling your story about what preceded the re-encounter with your soulmate to cause your dreams going off rails; again. Snapping your eyes into the dark, your heart was hammering in your ribcage, the remnants of a nightmare slowly leaving your mind.  Sparing once glance at Steve’s fast asleep face, you carefully wiggled away and went to brush your teeth. Instantly recognizing you wouldn’t fall asleep any time soon, you decided to wander the Tower in your pyjama, a thin sweater over your shoulders.

Maybe a tea would make you good, calm your restless brain?

Heading for the kitchen and common area, you didn’t expect to find the light on; and you sure as hell didn’t expect Samuel Wilson being the person occupying it.

“Hey,” he greeted you in low voice and a tired smile on his own. “Can’t sleep?”

You couldn’t help the sigh that was drawn to your lips. “Nope. I didn’t want to wake up Steve, he could use a few hours extra, not less.”

“I bet,” the man hummed thoughtfully, motioning for you to sit in a kind offer. You shook your head and gestured towards the kettle.

“Tea?”

“Nah. Thanks.”

You went to make a cup for yourself only then, keeping the talk up. “What about you?”

“Nat’s in the shower. Woke me up.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you teased him with a chuckle and his face scrunched as if he tasted lemon and was not expecting the taste.

“Nightmares are kind of a moodkiller.”

“Ah,” escaped your lips intelligently as you sat beside him, placing the tea on the table. Honestly, you weren’t surprised at how brusque he was after the evening you spent together, but at the same time, you were – a little. You offered him a half smile. “She looks happy though. You do that.”

He smiled a tiny smile back, but his crinkling eyes said more than the curl of his lips. “I hope so, ‘cause I’m trying. Nat’s amazing. She could have anyone, but deserves the best. For some reason, the Universe seems to think it’s me.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,“ you hummed, recalling the feeling way too clearly. Sam’s eyes bulged then, guilt and shock and only then you realized what he said. Oh. Oh.  The Universe. Natasha was Sam’s soulmate. Now you understood why they ended up not sharing their meet-cute yet. “Your secret is safe with me, just in case you wonder. And I can see the two of you being soulmates. I mean… at least you used to be a soldier, like her. And you still help people.”

You could feel his relief rolling off in waves. It was quite funny how afraid he was, probably having been promised death delivered by Black Widow if he shared. Then, his eyes turned curious, gentle brown wondering.

“You’re still self-conscious about your soulmate?”

“No!” you blurted out automatically, hesitating when his eyebrow rose, calling you out on your bullshit without words. You huffed. “Yes? I mean… no. It’s just-- sometimes… I guess it was just being confronted with it again when I met him for the second time… like, second time, the first time. It kinda hit me again. That our worlds are so different, mine’s so… plain and normal., while his… well.”

Getting it out felt good, but your admission sent the room into heavy silence, soaking through your skin, making you question whether you had told him too much. Why did you even say that? To Sam, of all people? You had just met him tonight!

You must have scared him off. Freaked him out. Now he was about to leave and tell on you and he would never talk to you-

“Did Natasha tell you what kind of therapy I do?” he asked kindly instead, causing you to release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

You shook your head, intrigued, happy to learn more about him and ignore the silly overshare slip you had managed.

“Soulmates,” he said simply, your heart stopping at the single word. What? … like… what exactly was he doing? Huh? “I deal with people who lost their soulmates. And I spent a good portion of time digging into relationships, soulmates-related or not… and I can tell you that sometimes when people are exactly the same, they are a disaster in making.”

Well. That was loop that returned to your case faster than expected. “What… uhm, what do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m not in the battlefield anymore, but maybe… I could be good for Nat. Grounding. Just like you can be good for Steve, be exactly what he needs,” he explained, his eyes locked with yours, not releasing you; yet, you didn’t feel trapped. Damn, he was good. “Do you feel that you two… work?”

You blinked at the sudden stupid question. “Of course I do.”

He grinned victoriously and you realized you just proved his point, so you chuckled self-depreciatingly.

“That’s because it’s not always about being the same in every aspect of your lives. It’s not about similarity – it’s about completion. About two people who simply fit. From what I saw so far, from what you told me, you two fit. That’s what’s important.”

Yeah, it seemed the Universe’s choices in soulmates were pretty swell; Sam was one of the kindest and most amiable people you had ever met and Natasha deserved nothing less.

But now, it wasn’t about Nat and Sam; no, Sam had spoken to you about this for your benefit. You smiled at him softly, reaching out and squeezing his hand for a short second. He returned the courtesy, letting your mouth speak your mind.

“Thank you. I… I think you two do as well. I guess it was just heavy dreams and everything that happened…” you shrugged, already feeling calmer. You couldn’t recall what particular dream was making you lose sleep tonight, but it left you with a strange feeling in your stomach that now seemed to resolve into nothing.

Sam shrugged, huffing with an undertone of bitterness that quickly disappeared.

“Well, we sit here at four a.m. Both of us. Every single person in this building has shit to deal with. You’ve been blown up – you came back from death, much like Steve did, in a way. He’s seen you die on top of that. Nat’s past is a case of its own and… and I saw my soulmate fall from the sky and for some reason I’m blessed with another… I’m just a firm believer in handling that kind of things together, that’s why I lead group sessions rather than individual ones.”

Your lips parted at his admission. He had lost his soulmate? For real? And he found the strength to deal and to help others? Yeah, Nat definitely deserved this guy. You just hoped neither of them would have to go through losing one another – in battlefield or anywhere else.

“Nat… is your second?” you pried carefully, only making certain.

Judging by how absent his gaze grow for few moments, she was.  

“Yeah.”

As if talking about her summoned her, she appeared in the door behind Sam’s back, observing silently and motioning for you not to babble out on her when you noticed her.

“Oh. Uhm… I’m sorry for your loss,” you whispered honestly and Sam smiled at you sadly, but undeniably grateful for such simple words.

“Thank you. I guess… the Universe does have a strange sense of humour. She came to me to help Steve, because she knew I lost my own and could relate and that’s how we found each other. It clicks in a weird way and I’m glad it seems to be working out so far.”

No way. Shit. Natasha had been… looking for a therapist for Steve? Just how bad Steve had been? The icy fist squeezing your heart gave you enough of an answer. Bad enough. You tried to silence the irrational guilt that gnawed at your stomach; it wasn’t exactly your fault, was it?

Curiosity was also knocking at your door, but you repressed it as well. As much as you’d like to ask whether Sam ended up having a session with Steve despite usually doing group ones, it felt wrong. Not to mention that Sam was a respectful and respecting man, who probably wouldn’t answer anyway.

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed with his musing instead, your own mind set off. “I thought it was rare to have two soulmarks and here we are.”

He snorted in an unattractive amusement. “Well, I have thought the same as you. And yet here we are. With you, coming back from the death as if two marks weren’t rare enough on their own.”

“That’s fair. But I suppose that… who else than people who spent smaller or larger part of their life saving the world deserves more than one chance at happiness?”

“True that,” he said with a light curl to his lips despite his eyes flickering behind you for a fraction of a second.

Letting your mind wander, you continued speaking, paying no mind you must bore him. “Or maybe it’s getting less rare. Maybe it’s part of something bigger, what we have yet to understand. Something… something might be changing. Cosmic…or maybe I’m just babbling. It’s just a feeling, something is in the air. A change.”

“That’s some heavy conversation to handle at four a.m,” a new voice spoke to the silence that had settled after your monologue and you whirled around, nearly jumping out of your skin.

“Steve!” you yelped, shocked and embarrassed. How much had he heard? Oh god…

Steve only shrugged and exchanged a look with Natasha, standing in the other doorway, which caused Sam to turn to his soulmate as well.

“Yeah, no shit,” Nat agreed, smirking.

“Hey, Nat,” Sam hummed, clearly less embarrassed at being eavesdropped on than you were.

“How about we cut this short and actually try to get some sleep?” she offered, carefree.

“Yeah, try,” you mimicked wryly with a sigh.

“We can try together,” Steve coaxed as he walked to you, running his hand through your hair tenderly. “Come with me, doll?”

How could a girl resist a sleepy supersoldier, when he combined his puppy eyes with being shirtless and inviting her back to his bed?

Couldn’t. The answer was: she couldn’t. You were a girl; hence you stood no chance.

“Sure,” you mumbled in a slight haze, before you managed to look back at your loyal listener. Sam had a smirk on his face, seeing what a goner you were for Steve, but his eyes were still kind.  ”Thank you, Sam. Must be that face of yours, making me verbally vomit my emotions.”

“Did you just compliment my face?” he asked, fake-shocked and turned to his own soulmate, scandalized. “Nat, watch out! She might wanna steal me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were her,” Natasha grinned at him and he chuckled, comeback prepared.

“And why is that?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile turned fond and you felt like you were missing something. Ah, private joke perhaps?

Not that you cared much as Steve squeezed your shoulder lightly, his thumb slipping under the sweater you hadn’t bothered buttoning up, caressing your bare arm.

“You’re so corny,” the spy snickered.

Sam stuck out tongue in response, at which Nat placed a palm over her chest in theatrics. You chuckled and rose to your feet.

“Well, this looks like the right time to leave. Night, guys!”

“Please, as if you are about to sleep! You fool no one!” Sam called after you and you would swear you heard a slap after that, making you giggle.

Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side and pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering in your hair then.

“I thought we agreed that we fit perfectly,” he hummed, only a trace of accusation in his warm timbre.

You sighed and curled up to him as close as it was possible while walking.

“We do. I… it really was just a strange dream, I guess, and this… whole thing. I saw it from a new perspective, you know? Basically an outsider who had no clue how soulmates worked at first. I went through the shock of you being my soulmate twice.”

“Ah, so you thought I was too handsome-“

You slapped his chest playfully as it instantly started shaking with hushed laughter, showing you he was only joking. You snuggled into his warmth, hoping your face didn’t quite had on display that yeah, he wasn’t that wrong. It was exactly that and like twenty other things about him and that was before you even met him. You didn’t expect him to ever understand that, not really, but Sam was right; you worked as a couple, or you liked to think so. Nothing else mattered.

Reaching your room, he released you from his embrace only to keep his hand on your shoulder to spin you, making you face him. You reluctantly raised your gaze, meeting his soft smile.

“I love you. You’re my everything and we are meant to be. Well, at least I believe that,” he mused, a fraction of doubt flashing in his eyes until you shook your head and planted a kiss right to his lips, feeling the smile widen. “If you’re not convinced… well. I’m making it my newest personal mission to prove it to you.”

Your eyebrow rose in challenge at his suggestive tone. “Are you, now?”

You couldn’t imagine saying no to that, but truth to be told, you were getting tired again; after spilling the beans to Sam, sharing your worries and getting them out of your chest, you felt like you would be able to actually fall asleep again.

“Yeah, doll. And I think I’ll start right in the morning after we get some sleep.”

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Epilogue

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Thank you for reading! (Potentially for leaving likes and reblogging)

There’s an epilogue left (full chapter-length), but you know me – I’m considering a short bonus chapter that I’m not sure will fit into the timeline – just something for fun, I guess. We’ll see.

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XII

Eve arrived at school at exactly seven in the morning, a whole hour before class was supposed to start. She had gotten there in record time too, legs sore with how eager she was to leave the house.

You see, Eve had miscalculated her father’s arrival.

Severely.

Rather than arriving as she had slept, he walked through the door just in time for breakfast. Shirt crumpled, hair ruffled, a sated look in his brown eyes. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. They were too tired for that. Yes, long gone was the happy couple trying to make it all work. In their place, the shell of who they once were, wilting husks with only overwhelming sadness and a want for temporary pleasure filling it.

Breakfast was somehow worse than dinner. Far from suffocating, she felt as if she were choking despite how well she chewed her serving of eggs. The dining room, already nowhere near welcoming before, seemed to taint everything in it, the sour mood permeating it seeping into her orange juice, making it taste as if it had gone bad weeks ago. (It hadn’t, though. She even helped her mother load groceries into the refrigerator. The juice had been there for no more than two days.)

Eve sat on that on a wooden courtyard bench, the very same one she sat on just eleven days ago, legs sore from how fast she pedaled, aching almost as much as she ached to get out of that horrid hou-

“Shut up.” Her mind echoed. It was painful, how hard she hard to try to stop herself from saying things she shouldn’t, from doing things she shouldn’t. “You should be grateful you even have a family. You know how people here feel about broken homes and single moms…”

“Eve!” Elizabeth came up from behind her, slender arms wrapping around her in a hug. She was in a good mood, giggling behind her manicured hands, cheeks tinted the signature pink of love – or simply infatuation. It was hard to tell, really, if your friend truly loved a man when you yourself were incapable of such things, try as she might, no matter how hard she forced herself to.

Nothing came of it. Nothing would ever come of it.

“So, I’m assuming you had a fun night?”

Just because Eve didn’t understand what was so thrilling about kissing boys and all that came after it, didn’t mean she wouldn’t listen to Elizabeth’s excited ramblings of it. She knew what was expected of her. One day, hopefully not one day soon, she would find a boy she could tolerate, a decent one she would at least come to love as a friend; she would marry him and lie with him, as a good wife does and bear his children.

And she would tolerate it.

Just because she was like Lilith, didn’t mean she had to act like her, didn’t mean she had to act on what she felt for her.

“Not just a night!” Elizabeth’s dark eyes twinkled, gesturing wildly and almost obscenely with her hands. “I was with him every night during the weekend and Monday night. I got Mary to vouch for me so we could go out.”

“Out?”

The brunette nodded, clearly deliberate in stating that they went out in order to say: “He just got his driver’s license so we went out on his motorcycle to celebrate!”

“Motorcycle?” Eve perked up, pleasantly surprised her friend wasn’t here to brag about her sex life and the fact that Zachariah could drive. (Really, the last thing she needed was a detailed description of a blowjob, especially considering that her breakfast wasn’t sitting right with her, though that may just be her lingering dread speaking.)

“Yup! Since he’ll be on a scholarship for college next year, he convinced his parents to let him use the money they set aside for it to buy a bike.”

She went on about the boy and the places he’d taken her, a genuine joy in her every motion, in her every word, excitement clear to all who would lay eyes on her.

Oh, Eve could feel her happiness, potent, so close yet completely unattainable to the likes of her. That wasn’t a new realization, not by any means, no, but God, it was different this time; a bitter bile rising in her, leaving the taste of acid and envy and a sorrow not unlike that of resignment, of loss.

But between Elizabeth’s giggles and how nice the boy seemed to be, the taste would soon fade into a sweet sugar cookie sort of fondness.

Only a hint of that resignment remained, a tangy, rotten after taste.

...

Unlike the first day of their newly implemented schedule, today was not so tense.

Rather, the two girls sat next to each other, not even a ruler’s length apart, not tense but tenuous both of them lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and drowning in a sea of emotions either too scary to name or too muddled to be sure of, everything mixing and melding and melting like a soup with a certain ingredient you couldn’t quite place.

The memory of yesterday was burned into their minds, playing again and again on an endless loop for reasons they dare not say, the same words spoken and heard from slightly different perspectives with slightly different thoughts accompanying it.

For Lilith, yesterday was a sign of hope for Eve. She was willing to disobey, allowing herself the occasional indulgence with a bit of coaxing. All Eve needed was a nudge, a gentle push in the right direction. The redhead could imagine it quite vividly, the girl standing before her mother, letting lies slip from her lips, pretending to have been forced into a place of opposition she so evidently wanted to be in. Eve hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that her mother was the only thing keeping her from the club, either too tired to make up an excuse or just feeling comfortable enough to open up about it to her.

For Eve, yesterday was the end of playing dumb, the end of turning a blind eye to her own desires and the undeniable humanity of people… like Lilith. She could hardly believe all that had happened despite it being so clear in her head. Between what see had seen in the locker room and what had happened over lunch and the things she’d willingly done during club time… it was all too much.

Yesterday was the end of life as she knew it. Or rather, it was the beginning of the end.

After all, progress took time and it was by no means linear. Especially not during matters of this nature.

“So what did your mom say?” Lilith said. She was trying to separate what she felt for that woman from her voice, and she was doing well, disdain for her considered. Really, fussing over every little detail of her daughter was one thing but the fact that the concern she displayed was not for said daughter but for her future husband was something she couldn’t forgive. Still, she kept her language plain and her tone neutral. Most people didn’t take kindly to other’s insulting their mothers.

“Oh, I haven’t told her.” The way Eve’s voice trembled when she said that “oh” sent arrows through her heart, the dread palpable and utterly unnerving. “She hasn’t asked yet and I didn’t have a good time to bring it up so I’ll just wait for her to say something. Maybe she’s assuming I joined the book club again?”

A lie by omission was better than an outright one but it was a lie nonetheless and the guilt of it didn’t do much to ease the girl’s tension, though the fact that she would be able to avoid that conversation for a while longer did.

“Speaking of books,” Lilith coughed, deciding to change the topic before Eve withdrew into her mind “what did you guys do in that club? Just read all day and discuss books? Is there even anything good in that library?”

“Well, most of it is theology and reference books, yeah, but those can be good! There are a few volumes of Sherlock Holmes near the history section! It’s not a complete collection at all but definitely better than nothing.”

She could already feel the dopey grin making it’s way onto her face. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, Lilith would be hard pressed to find a time Eve had been this happy about anything. Unbridled joy was a good look on everyone. The gleam in their eyes that only came from a genuine liking for something, the way they’d gesticulate, unable to contain all their passion.

Granted, Eve didn’t gesture so much as flap her hands about, but while joy looked good on everyone, it also looked different in everyone and Lilith found this eccentricity of hers adorable to no small degree.

“They have Phantom of the Opera tucked away somewhere near this compilation of Edgar Allan Poe I’ve been able to read a few times. A bit macabre but still good! Oh, you know they have books on gardening, too! I can show you next time we go and you can check out one or two if you want! The ones on herbs was fun but I think you’ll find the one on flower language an interesting read. It’s not exactly about gardening, but still. Did you know that the way you tied a bouquet could completely change the meaning of all the flowers you were trying to send?”

She spoke in a mix of short, rapid-fire sentences and long-winded rants, switching with no real pattern, rambling and occasionally straying to go on a tangent about a specific book or mention something about gardening, none of which Lilith understood, being unable to name any flowers by appearance other than rose, daisy, and sunflower, though she listened eagerly nonetheless.

“But back to books! Near the back, just by the cookbook – oh, and um, don’t tell anyone but –” Eve scooted her wooden chair across the wooden floor, mindlessly brushing Lilith’s hair back, placing her lip just two centimeters scant of her ear. “There are books hidden there, by older girls, I think. Ones that graduated a really long time ago.”

Eve’s ivory-like hands cupped the small space around Lilith’s ear, shielding their words from any listening ears, anything that happened behind her hands hidden from prying eyes. In the midst of her whispering, she realized she could kiss Lilith; a gentle peck on the shell of her ear. No one needed to know. Just a quick press of the lips, it wouldn’t take longer than a second… or two.

And though she ignored the impulse, the thought lingered.

“Love poems and romance novels. I’m pretty sure they wrote it all themselves. Two of them are just a bunch of papers with holes punched in the side tied together by string, no cover. Technically more manuscript than book but you know what I mean. The others are leather bound journals, hand-written.”

“No kidding?” The other asked, hushed, nothing anyone further than Eve would catch. She didn’t dare say it louder, both unwilling to let anyone eavesdrop on them and scared that the excessive movement of her jaw would lead Eve farther from her.

“Nope, they’re there.” She pulled away from the girl’s ear but didn’t bother to move her seat back to where it was, their legs pressed together beneath the table they shared. “I haven’t been able to read much of any of them cause I’m scared I’ll get too absorbed to notice anyone walking past but their poems are really good! I can show you sometime, along with the gardening books.”

“We can go there later, during lunch. I’ll keep watch for while you read.”

The offer turned the girl’s waning grin into a megawatt smile, dimpled and rosy cheeked, she looked like a Raphaelite painting, a masterpiece.

“Really?”

“Sure! I’m always up for a bit of casual disobedience.” She replied with a wink and a deep chuckle, using amusement as a cover for endearment.

“Holy cow, thank you so much! But I’m pretty sure we’re not actually breaking any rules, I–”

Smack!

“Everyone bring out your composition notebook! We’re going to use the rest of homeroom to learn how to read sheet music before proceeding to the music room so if you want to fool around on the piano you’d best master this quickly.”

With that, Eve jerked away from Lilith, bringing her chair along with her and causing a loud, grating noise to make it’s way through the now silent room, every head whipping around to face them, the eyes now bearing into them, mostly shocked, some irritated, with one judgmental look from the front, from Sister Bernadette.

“No movement of chairs unless otherwise stated!”

“But-”

“Put the seat back where it was immediately or get detention!”

Lilith then pulled the girl down into her seat, cutting off another protest and brought the seat back to where it was before the nun entered, effectively ridding all the space between them.

Only when the woman turned to face the blackboard did she whisper to Eve: “Don’t argue, even if they’re wrong. They’ll just call it disrespectful and send you to the principal’s.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I’m just not used to getting yelled at here so I wasn’t sure about– I didn’t know what to do. Sorry, again…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She gave the blonde a teasing jab along with a soft smile, looking at the girl only from the corner of her sky blue eye so as not to invoke the further ire of the clearly on-edge teacher. “’Sides, the jokes on them. They’re still wrong and we get to stay like this. That’s a win-win if I’ve ever seen one, yeah?”

Eve huffed, a small laugh, in part a sort of thanks for the given consolation, in part a sort of reassurance to the other that she’d be okay, that she’d bounce back.

“Yeah.”

In the end, they weren’t able to go to the music room.

...

The hours passed, only a few words passing between the girls every so often, most of it questions related to the work they were assigned. They were careful, Eve unwilling to anger any other authority figures, Lilith trying to fly under the radar, admittedly rather afraid of being called into Mother Cecilia’s office over even trivial matters, knowing it would lead to yet another interrogation regarding the fire.

But finally, the lunch bell rang, granting them freedom and the ability to be enthusiastic without repercussion. (As long as they weren’t too noisy, of course.) All the anticipation and excitement led to Eve shooting out of her chair and practically sprinting to the library, books shoved haphazardly into her book bag as Lilith followed not too far behind her, pleasantly surprised at her actions, though with more emphasis on the pleasant and not so much on the surprised.

“It’s right this way,” The blonde said, not bothering to drop her bag down in her usual seat as they ventured deeper into the library.

Eventually, they reached the deepest, mustiest park of the library, all the shelves covered in a thin sheen of dust save for a single row level with their knees. The sun streaming in from the arching windows only served to accentuate how unkempt the place was, illuminating the dust particles that flew into the air when Eve took to her knees to retrieve the books she spoke so eagerly about.

“The last time I’ve been able to peek at them was a few weeks before summer, so sorry for the dust. You’re not asthmatic, right?” She pulled out a few of the recipe books, setting them aside before reaching in deeper to grab a stack of papers, bound with string, it’s outer most page containing nothing more than a title and a name. Sticking her arm in a bit more, she pulled out two leather journals, putting them down atop the manuscript before taking a few more cookbooks from the shelf and grabbing the last journal along with manuscript type book.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Lilith crouched down next to her, looking at the stack Eve made. The paper ones were practically identical save for a difference in thickness while the leather-bound books varied in colour, one the usual coffee brown, the other a matte black, and the last one a fine, wine-red.

“So, how’d you find all this anyway?” The redhead asked, taking the brown book from the stack, flicking through a random page and instantly regretting it as a cloud of dust came from it, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit, Eve rushing to her and patting her back as her lungs tried to expel themselves through her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not asthmatic?”

“Eve, I’m not sure how to break it to you, but anyone that gets hit with a face-full of dust is gonna cough a bit. I’ll live.”

“Good point.” She reached over to her bag and took a tumbler from it. “Water?”

Lilith’s fingers brushed against Eve’s as the dark green bottle switched hands, reminiscent of the brief touch they shared the first time they met, on that fateful, windy day in the courtyard.

“Thanks.”

There were a handful of things she expected to happen today, things she prepared an appropriate response for. Watching Lilith gulp down water like a dying man, seeing her throat work with every sip, eyes following the stray drops that rolled down her chin and her neck, making it’s way to the opening of her shirt before finally stopping, absorbed by the fabric that now clung to parts of her chest, was evidently not one of those things.

“T-thanks to you, too… Lilith.”

The girl in question merely raised an eyebrow and snorted.

“If you wanted to start with this book, you could’ve just said so.”

Lilith passed the book she was holding to her, instead grabbing the red one and holding it out an arm’s length away and flapping it about, effectively getting most of the dust out.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, content to exist in the same space, unburdened by the unspoken as they read. Sock-clad legs parallel to each other, pressed flush against the flesh, they looked so similar to how they did yesterday, this morning.

Lighter, though. Somehow.

Perhaps it was the lack of looming dread, the weight of anxiety gone from Eve’s mind, for now at least. Perhaps it was the lack of fear, Lilith’s worry for Eve gone, again, if only for now.

...

As Eve went on, she became enamored by the prose, the delicate descriptions crafted from simple every day life and feelings, invested by the admittedly somewhat familiar protagonist, Nina, and her best friend, Rosalie, or as Nina would so fondly call her, Rosie.

Bit by bit, though, things were changing between them. Or maybe they haven’t changed at all and she was just blind to it. Either way though, things became different, odd, queer.

“I carded my hands through her soft, black hair just like I had so many times before. “Will you braid it for me?” She asked, lifting her head from off my lap, resting on her elbows. Not quite lying down, not quite sitting up.”

She couldn’t help but think that the first sentence implied something.

“Rosalie would get her blazer dirty, stomach pressed into the grass as she traced patterns on my lap, the fabric of my skirt shifting, spiraling. “Of course,” I couldn’t say no if I wanted to, but why would I even consider refusing her?”

The way Nina spoke about Rosalie, the way Rosalie spoke to her in turn, the affection they showed to each other, the way she would describe Rosalie in text was akin to that of love… romantic love.

Eve brushed the thoughts aside though, knowing she was probably just projecting her own perversions on the perfectly normal, heterosexual girls.

“We sat there and spoke of the future, a house deep in the woods, an aged, fat cat. Preferably a tabby. I plucked flowers, giving them a new home with her as I wove it into the braid. Call me sacrilegious but she looked like a God, of-the-earth, of me. She was my God. I’d get in trouble if I ever said that out loud. But then again, I’d get in trouble for practically everything I did with Rosie”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t just Eve.

“After finishing the braid, I took a compact mirror from my pocket. “What do you think?” She giggled, deep, brown eyes looking around at the empty field before shimmying over to me, laying a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely.” She moved once more, settling on my lap, lips trailing across my forehead, my eye, my nose, my cheek. Tease. At long last, though, her lips met mine, pressing against me with a soft passion-”

She dropped the book, hands by her head as a sort of surrender to whatever god may be watching her, judging her, face flushed, chest heaving.

Lilith looked up from her book. “You okay?”

She read that. She enjoyed that.

That knowledge was the straw that broke the camel’s still recovering back.

The guilt from yesterday and everyday before that built up in her lungs, drowning her, hastening her hellish damnation. Her thoughts were consumed by apologies and prayers and pleas for a mercy she wasn’t deserving of.

Tears fell from her face like angels from the sky, a testament to her sins, her guilt.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Suffocating, stifling, sinful guilt.

Crashing down on her as if she was being smitten, painful and shameful and rightful guilt.

She sobbed and shook, hands over her mouth to stop herself from wailing her anguish, her agony, her guilt.

But a pair hands weren’t enough to contain everything in her and all that spilled out. Nothing was.

Whimpers escaped through the gaps of her fingers, Lilith forgetting her shock and rushing over to comfort her.

It only made her cry harder. Lilith’s touch burned.

Eve clung to her though, rising to her knees, hands clutching at Lilith’s shirt.

It was yesterday all over again.

It was worse.

She couldn’t deny what she was anymore. Every passing second made it harder to craft lies and alibis and that would be a sin too and she’d go to hell regardless.

Burying her face in the crook of Lilith’s neck in a futile attempt to silence herself, Eve could smell the sweet, apple cinnamon perfume the girl had sprayed on earlier.

The way the scent made her face flush, even with everything going on and everything she was feeling was sick.

It twisted her stomach.

She felt disgusting, sinful, wrong, guilty.

But as she sobbed and shuddered and breathed the scent in…

It twisted her stomach.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

...

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eve.” She whispered, soft, the words meant for one person and one person only.

Lilith wasn’t a naturally soothing person. Never in her life did she have to console someone in such a way, her friends all preferring to be distracted from their sorrows by quips and jokes. This was different, though. Eve was different.

Eve made her soft and kind to a degree she could hardly fathom. Gone was her icy exterior and harsh features, traded in for a comforting smile and gentle hands.

The girl sobbed and prayed into her shoulder, unable to hear her over muttered prayers and the sound of her own heartbeat, a frantic thump in her heaving chest.

From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like Eve was the one doing the comforting, seeming to pray over Lilith in a manner akin to that to someone being exorcised, a two-person prayer circle.

“Eve,” She whispered, gently trying to pry the girl away from her so she could talk, immediately stopping when the blonde only cried harder at the gesture. “I’m gonna need you to take deep breaths, Eve. Can you do that for me, please?”

The girl hiccupped, body wracked by sobs though clearly trying to follow.

“That’s right, just like that.”

Lilith’s spindly hands made her way up and down Eve’s back in tranquil motions.

“Wanna tell me what’s making you cry? I won’t tell anyone not even Paula and Joan.”

Eve shook her head, not even lifting her head from the crook of Lilith’s neck, her tip of her nose drawing a line from where her neck sloped down to her shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea-ah…”

Breathing still ragged, eyes still red-rimmed, cheeks still tear-stained, she pulled away from Lilith, sniveling.

“I’m s-sorry, I don’t know why I’m even crying-”

She cut the blonde off, though. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. But please don’t lie to me. You know why you’re crying. I’m not gonna make you talk about it, but you know.”

“Okay.” Eve whispered, a sort of willing surrender.

It was evident to Lilith that she wanted to talk. Shame held her back, unfortunate and burdensome. She didn’t speak, instead picking up the book from where it fell, opening to the page she had last read, finger tapping the paragraph before sliding the book across the small gap between them.

She skimmed over the paragraph and a few thereafter, finding nothing of note until she finally saw what Eve meant.

“This is what you were crying over?”

All she got in response was a nod, the girl looking to be on the brink of tears again.

“Why?”

Eve shook her head again. Her lip trembled, jutting out like a child trying their best not to cry.

“If I guess right will you tell me?”

Nothing.

“Want me to stop?”

Again, there was no reply.

“Can you tell me what you want me to do?”

A shrug of the shoulders. Nothing else.

“Do you know what you want me to do?”

She shook her head no, a few tears going with it. The only thing that left her mouth was a shaky sigh as she carded her hands through her hair. Tired. Eve looked tired. She was all that and more.

Lilith looked away from her, the pity she felt too much. There was nothing she could do. If only for a moment, she felt the degree of helplessness Eve felt, knowing she couldn’t help. It wasn’t foreign to her, helplessness. It was like seeing an old friend.

She could never bring herself to be angry or even annoyed at what was happening to Eve. Not when it’s happened to her, to Paula, to Joan, to Julia, to Colette.

Lost in thought, she was snapped back to reality as Eve dragged her closer, making her face away as the girl hugged her from behind.

Eve cried into her. It wasn’t the way she cried mere minutes ago, however. It was calmer, no hiccups or shaking. Only tears streaming down the girl’s face and soaking into Lilith’s shirt with a sniffle every once and a while.

Time passed and Lilith grew bolder, hand wandering to where Eve’s were wrapped around her stomach. Her touch was tentative, Eve’s hand treated like a fine porcelain piece.

“Is this okay?”

“No.” She said.

But she didn’t push Lilith’s away, instead opting to hold it, their fingers weaving together, slotting together as if their very flesh and bone were sculpted to be together, to intertwine, to love.

How cruel of God to craft two people for each other the turn to create a world were they were not to be.

“None of this is okay.”

______________________

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